Chapter 5
Williamsburg: Planning a Wrestling Match

There was a dull thud as the belt connected with Jason's ample tan ass. Even in the dim candle light of the small room Billy could see that he had left a mark on the Duke's son.

"That's it, Gany. More. Whip me like I whipped you," said Jase in a low voice as he lay there across the bed on his stomach with his elbows buried in the bed quilt and his knees on the floor.

Again, Billy reminded himself that Cleavon had been very clear that he was to do whatever pleased the customer. Raising his arm to strike again, he let himself be submerged completely in the role that the other boy, his customer, wanted him to play.

"Yes, Jase. I will. You should never have whipped me like that."

The second blow was even harder than the first. There was a suppressed cry from the boy on the bed as the belt bit into his flesh. Billy wasn't sure, but he thought that he could see a tear run down Jason's cheek as he lay there taking each blow in succession as they rained down on him one after another.

Finally, at ten lashes, for that's really what they were, the Duke's son yelled out in a voice that was cracking with emotion, "There, that's how many I gave you. Now we're even."

Billy (as Ganymede) was ready for the eleventh lash when he heard this. Wanting to please his customer, he instantly dropped the belt and reached over to where the small container held the oil that he would have normally used to reduce his own pain and smeared some of it on his hand. Without being told, he began to rub it on Jase's now-bruised and reddened buttocks. As he did so, he murmured softly, "Yes. now, we're even. Lie still while I rub this oil on your butt-cheeks. It will help to ease the pain."

Jason lay there on his belly and cried softly into the quilt as Billy continued to rub his sore butt with the oil.

When he thought that he had done all that he could with the oil, Billy sat down on the edge of the bed beside the crying boy and slowly eased him into his arms. Somehow, he knew that what the Duke's son wanted at the moment was compassion and not sex. Jason buried his face on Billy's shoulder and cried, no, sobbed. Finally, after several minutes had passed, he at last stopped, wiping his face with the back of his hand.

Still playing his role as Ganymede, Billy thought that this was now the time to seal their meeting with sex. He spoke softly and tenderly into Jason's ear saying, "Would you like to have sex like we did before your father discovered us?"

Once more, Jason wiped his hand across his face and then replied, "Yes, Gany, I would. We need to feed our love. My father should never be able to keep us apart."

The Duke's son sat up gingerly on the edge of the bed facing Billy. Even with the quilt underneath Jason's bruised butt, it was obvious to Billy that it was painful for him to be in that position. The boy winced as he found a position that minimized the pain and then slowly stroked his cock into its full 5-inch [12½ cm] erection. As he continued to run his clenched fingers up and down the now rock-hard brown organ, he said, "You have a good mouth. Suck me like you did in the summer house in the garden at the palace."

Billy knelt down. He took Jason's cock in his hand. Carefully, he wrapped his fingers around the pulsating organ and added a couple of more strokes of his own. Then, he pointed it at his mouth and licked the head of it as he looked up into the older boy's eyes with undisguised, if not altogether real, lust. It felt good to be satisfying the boy who would one day be the Duke of Norfolk. In addition, Billy understood that he needed to make a good impression. He had been told repeatedly since being sold into slavery that life as a brothel boy could be good, if he proved to be talented in the sexual arts.

Jason was one of those boys with a short foreskin that did not fully cover the tip of his glans when he was flaccid. Now that he was fully erect, his foreskin pulled back completely exposing the helmet-head that was his smooth brown glans. Billy's lips and tongue began to work on the boy's cock in earnest as he fondled the shaft with his fingers. The erection, while still that of a boy, was thick and full and hinted at what must become a really large cock once the boy was fully grown. However, the way that it pulsated and dripped precum was hardly the action of a boy. With a growing confidence in his ability as a cocksucker, Billy worked Jase's fat cock past the entrance to his throat. It only took moments before Billy's lips were pressing against the older boy's thin ring of curly black pubic hair. As he moved in and out and sucked on the shaft, he could hear Jase almost purring as his eyes glazed over and he surrendered himself to the magic of Billy's mouth.

***

Down the hall in the Blue Boy's best guest room, the Duke of Norfolk was having his own session with Ganymede and Cupid.

The Duke was an impressive man in his own right. He stood six feet [1.85 m] tall and, if they had had a scale, he would have tipped it at 185 lbs [83 kg]. While in his mid-forties, he was still physically fit, even if more than a little thick in the middle. He still enjoyed going out among his subjects, now and then doing a little manual labor to impress them while keeping up his image as a strong leader of his people.

"Yes… that's it, Cupid… let me feel you suck it with everything that you've got… ahhh, yes!" The Duke's hands were pressing against the back of the boy's head, keeping him from backing off of the man's thick 6-inch [15 cm] long, rock-hard, thick brown penis.

Ganymede had his own hard five inches [12½ cm] of boy-meat firmly planted in the younger boy's anus. While his backside still burned from the beating that Jase had given him at the Duke's command, that did not stop him from fucking the nine-year-old's dark-tan well-used ass with vigor.

The Duke smiled as he watched Gany doing his best to cum before his master so as to give the older man even more stimulation than Cupid's eager and experienced mouth could provide. Although only in the Duke's stable of slaves for a short while, he already knew that the man was stimulated by the sight of others having sex. Like the rest of those boys who had started out in one of the brothels, he had from the first learned that pleasing a client, or a master, was what counted and ensured you the good life of a brothel boy.

Ganymede's efforts didn't take long to produce results. "Master, I'm going to cum!" the boy cried out in a loud voice.

"Don't pull out. Cum in Cupid's ass," instructed the Duke, as the younger boy sucked hungrily at his hard penis. It was only seconds later that Gany rose up on the balls of his feet as he plunged in and out of Cupid's inviting rounded ass. His eyes were glazed and his breathing ragged as he stroked the side of his lover's butt with his free hand, crying out as he climaxed. This, plus Cupid's expert sucking, brought the Duke to a quick climax of his own.

The talented nine-year-old tried to swallow the man's cum but there was just too much of it, too fast, for him to get all of it down. Some of it dribbled out of his mouth and down his chin and onto his chest. As inconspicuously as possible, the boy reached for a piece of clean cloth on the nightstand beside the bed and wiped it from his chin and upper body.

Both the Duke and Gany were sweat covered and panting from their exertions. Even Cupid was spent after sucking the Duke to a successful climax. The three of them just lay there for a couple of minutes as their bodies came down from the exertions of their mutual sexual highs.

Then Ganymede did as he had been taught in his training days. In a low, respectful voice, he asked the Duke, "Sire, would you like some wine now that you have had your needs attended?"

"Yes, that would be fine. Perhaps, a glass of white wine this evening would be just the thing," replied the older man as he propped up on one elbow while he watched Cupid lick and wipe his penis clean of any remaining cum. Unconsciously, he tousled the boy's curly black hair and smiled. Yes, this has been a good evening, he thought to himself.

It took a few minutes for Gany and Cupid to remove the evidence of his exertions from the Duke before dressing him. Carefully, they rubbed his body with a damp cloth that they dipped in clean water that was kept for that purpose in a salt-glazed bowl on a chest near the bed. Once they had him clean, they dressed him, while he finished his glass of wine. They followed this with wiping the sweat from each other and got ready to accompany the Duke in whatever his next pleasure might be.

***

As it was, the Duke had decided that it was time to see how his son had enjoyed his session with Billy. The Duke strode down the short hallway to the room where Jason and Billy had been enjoying their own form of sex mixed, as it was, with flagellation.

It was not in the older man's nature to knock on any door in his duchy. He turned the knob and pushed the door open as he exclaimed in a loud voice, "How was it? Did the 'whitey' satisfy you? If not, I have two boys here with me who could suck the varnish off a newel post."

Jason was sitting on the edge of the bed but fortunately had already put his pants back on, although he was still bare from the waist up. Billy, who stood beside him, was still naked and wiping the sweat from Jase's upper body.

"Yes, father, it was great! Billy is also very talented when it comes to sucking. I think that he could match your two boys in sucking the varnish off that newel post," exclaimed Jason in an excited voice and with a big grin on his face.

"I hope that you will let me come back again. This was a lot of fun. Maybe we could even have Billy come over to the palace for a visit and some more fun in private. Is that something that we could do?" asked Jason in his best excited boyish voice.

Billy was the only one in the room other than Jason who knew that only minutes before he had been beating the Duke's son's ass with a belt. He hoped that the Duke thought that Jase's performance was the real thing and not something concocted just to make him feel that everything was alright when it really wasn't. Silently, he prayed that the man would never see his son's bruised and battered ass. No matter how much Jase had urged him on, Billy had no doubts that the Duke would take out his wrath, if not his vengeance, on him if he learned that he had beaten his son with a belt. After all, it was well known in the bay area that this duke had once had a man castrated who had, in ignorance, laid a hand on a member of the ducal family in anger.

As it was, the Duke believed what Jason was saying. He walked over to the bed and enveloped his son in a big hug. Then he said, "Finish getting dressed and meet me downstairs; we need to get back to the palace. I'll think about having Billy here come over there one day soon for some more 'fun' as you say. I would also like to test his talents." With that, he turned and left the room. Moments later, they could hear his footsteps on the stairs followed by those of Ganymede, Cupid, and his bodyguards as they trailed after him.

"Help me finish dressing. You did well," said Jason. "I know that I can convince him to have you come over to the palace. It won't be long before we see each other again." With that, he wrapped his arms around Billy and held his naked body close to himself as he kissed him full on the mouth. His hands caressed the younger boy's ass cheeks as their tongues met and explored each other's mouths. Somehow, both knew that they were promising more for their future meeting, however soon that might be.

***

Back in the public room of the brothel, eight of the other ten boys were still entertaining other customers while the other two were already upstairs satisfying their own customers' needs. With varying success, they flashed their bodies at the patrons and encouraged them to buy drinks. Meanwhile, Nkomo was trying to promote the idea of a wrestling match featuring Seth and the slave of a planter from a small plantation just outside of town on the old Richmond Road.

The man on the other side of the table was lean and wiry. If he had been standing, he would have stood about five feet nine inches [1.75 m] tall and weighed only 145 lbs [65 kg], if that much. His face had that ruddy light red-brown look of a man of part African heritage, who had spent much of his life working the land. His clothes, while neat and clean, were obviously of home-spun fabric that had been crafted by someone who knew well the art of sewing but only had inferior fabric with which to work.

Seth stood beside the table as Nkomo ran his free hand over the teenager's naked body. The planter had not taken his eyes off the boy since the brothel owner had started talking. From the way that his master was fondling him, Seth could not keep from getting an erection. His penis was beginning to stand up, working its way toward its full four and a half inches [11½ cm] of rock-hard boy meat. The boy's breathing was ragged as the man continued to alternate between running his hand over his abs and up and down the hard shaft of his penis.

From the way that he looked at the boy, it was obvious that the planter would soon be taking the teenager up to a room for more than a closer examination of his wrestling skills.

"Seth here is a good wrestler. I'd like to see him put up against your boy, Luke. How would you feel about a match here in Williamsburg next Saturday when people are in town for market day?" asked Nkomo, as he continued to run his hand over Seth's abs, drifting down into the boy's package, slowing only momentarily to stroke the boy's penis.

All the customers in the common room rose as the Duke and his son came down the stairs. The two guards with him had been waiting in the hall while both the father and the son had had sex. As it was, he couldn't help but hear Nkomo discussing the idea of a wrestling match as he entered.

"Did I hear you correctly? You sartwo are planning a wrestling match between this whitey and one of this man's slaves. Is that correct?" asked the Duke.

"Yes, sire. We were discussing just such a match when you came down the stairs," replied Nkomo as he made a slight bow in the direction of the man.

"The Duke of Washington is sending an emissary to see me. He is expected to arrive Saturday before noon. Let's schedule your match for early that evening. It would give me something with which to entertain my guest as well as show him how my people enjoy life here in the Duchy of Norfolk. Additionally, it will also allow both of you to secure plenty of bets on the outcome of the match."

"As you wish, your highness. Your wisdom is legendary," replied the brothel owner.

"Cut the crap, Nkomo. We both know each other too well. I'll expect my usual share of the profits after the match," said the Duke, as his voice took on a hard edge.

"Yes of course, sir. I understand," responded Nkomo.

The planter also bowed slightly and replied, "I, too, understand."

"Good. It's always nice when we all understand each other," said the Duke sarcastically as he reached out and took a clean glass from the bar and poured himself a small dram [a short ounce or about 4 grams] of wine from an open bottle.

Once he had finished his drink, he wiped his mouth with a napkin that was lying on the bar. Then, he turned and walked out the door and into the street trailed by Jason and the two body guards. With that, Nkomo turned back to the planter, whose name by the way was Cyrus, and said, "It looks like we have a wrestling match next Saturday night that we need to arrange."

***

The match was planned for early evening right after the day's marketing activities came to a close but early enough so that there was still enough sunlight left to illuminate the site. This would enable the crowd to get a good view of the match without resorting to torchlight in an age that had long ago forgotten what electric lights were.

The actual location where the wrestling would take place was on the grass behind what had been called the 'Court House' when it was built in the 18th century. These days, the building served as a sort of city hall for the small town that Williamsburg had once again become. The area around the building was still known as 'Market Square' as it had been since the founding of the town five centuries earlier. Now, as much as in Colonial days, merchants had set up tents or spread their wares on blankets or pieces of canvas on the grass in the area on both sides of what they now called 'Gloucester Street'.

Since Nkomo, Cyrus the planter, and the Duke all expected to make a profit from the match, bleachers had been set up around the area that was roped off as the rink where the match would take place. You or I would have recognized the bleachers from our school days, but to the 23rd century residents of the town, they just represented salvage from a site that they no longer even recognized as the school that it had once been in the 'Golden Age'.

On up the street in the palace stables, the Duke's stable hands had prepared an area where the two wrestlers would gather before the match. Once they were ready, they would parade down the street in front of the palace to Gloucester Street and then to the rink so that the public could get a good look at them before the match. After all, increasing the number and amount of the bets on the outcome of the match was to the advantage of everyone concerned.

Nkomo and Seth arrived first at the stables along with Billy and Cupid in tow. The Duke's chief groom had been appointed as the referee by the Duke himself. 'Old Jomo', as he was called, had been a good wrestler in his younger years and still coached and trained some of the Duke's slaves when the Duke wished it. He had a reputation as a fair and impartial referee so that neither Nkomo or Cyrus had any concerns about him judging the match fairly. Nkomo and Jomo were old friends and stood visiting with each other while they waited for the other wrestler and his master.

Cyrus, and his boy Luke, arrived a few minutes later on a big farm wagon pulled by two stout draft horses. They climbed down from the wagon and stood facing Nkomo and Seth. The two boys began to take off their clothes until they faced each other in nothing but knee-length shorts. The two began limbering up while trying to intimidate each other with looks on their faces that were designed to project toughness.

Whereas Seth was a "whitey," Luke was what four hundred years earlier would have been called a "Mandingo." He was a deep tan and stood six feet [1.85 cm] tall and weighed a very muscular 190 lbs [85 kg] This compared to Seth's five foot ten [1.79] and 185 lbs [84 kg].

The upper bodies of both Seth and Luke were muscular and well-defined from a life composed of both hard work and the training that they had done to keep them in top shape for matches such as this one. Both had well-developed biceps and pectoral muscles. However, whereas Seth was well built with a good, if somewhat lean build, Luke appeared to be massive by comparison. This was due to his particularly large, hard arms and prominent pecs that always impressed the crowd. Whichever one of them won the match, it would not be an easy victory.

There was a creaking as the stable door opened and the Duke entered accompanied by his son and what the assemblage assumed was the emissary from the Duke of Washington. All of the men and boys in the stable bowed to the Duke, acknowledging his authority.

"Hear me," said the Duke, "I think that it is time to give the citizens of Williamsburg a really good show. I have decided that the match this evening should be a contest like those that were supposedly held long ago in a land called 'Rome.' My grandfather used to tell me stories about it when I was a child. In order to make this a truly fair fight and to better entertain the people of Williamsburg, I have decided that these boys will wrestle naked and covered with oil as they once did in those stories of times long ago."

Neither Nkomo or Cyrus had anticipated this turn of events. The brothel-keeper stammered for a moment before replying, "If it please your grace, then so be it. However, I must admit that I have never witnessed such a contest before."

Cyrus was quick to add, "Neither have I, sire."

"Then we are happy to contribute to your education," laughed the Duke, with a look in his eyes that only hinted at whatever his true reasons were for ordering the naked match.

With that, the Duke gestured to the two already half-naked teenaged boys. "Strip." Then motioning to the two nearby stable hands he added, "Bring a couple of jugs of the oil that you use to wipe down the horses and oil down these two so that they are both well covered with oil."

Then, turning back to Nkomo and Cyrus he added, "I think that two out of three falls should decide the match. Do you not agree?" Both of the men bowed to the Duke indicating their acceptance of his conditions for the match, even though the wrestlers were their slaves and technically it was their right to determine the conditions of the match.

Neither Seth nor Luke had expected to be wrestling naked before anyone, much less the Duke and his entourage, much less half the town. They had no problem stripping naked for their masters whenever and wherever it was demanded of them. However, it was just that the idea of having to wrestle naked was not something that they had ever experienced before.

Slowly, they dropped their shorts and stepped out of them. Luke's larger size and particularly large thick penis first caught the eye of the Duke and the other men. Then they looked at Seth with his rare ash-blond pubic hair. Neither boy could do anything as they were minutely examined in their mutual nakedness by the eyes of the men in the stable. As slaves, they were used to being examined naked by strangers. Seth was also used to servicing the customers of the boy-brothel while Luke was used to pleasuring his master back on the plantation. As a result, both stood there unfazed by the eyes that now looked at them with varying degrees of lust.

In response to the Duke's command, Jomo had dispatched two young stable hands to fetch oil from a cupboard on one side of the stable. They now returned with two earthen pottery jugs of oil. They came over to where the two boys stood and started to oil their naked bodies. Everyone in the stable stood there pondering the unspoken fact that this would make it a lot more difficult for either wrestler to hold the other in the coming match. Of course, as the stable hands oiled the two teenagers, they included their boy parts. This was enough to cause them to become aroused. By the time that they were finished, both of the boys were rock-hard.

***

Jomo had the Duke's open carriage waiting outside the stable. Once he had seated himself in it along with his son, the now-naked and oiled boys lined up behind it with their masters following them along with any others in the entourage.

Seeing that Billy and Cupid were with Nkomo's group, the Duke ordered the boys to lead the procession to the rink. With everyone in place, they set off.

So far in his young life, Billy had only seen boys wrestling for fun along the Choptank riverbank. Even he could see that the mud of the river didn't compare to the slipperiness of the oil. When he added in the youth and nudity of the boys, he could only imagine what this match would be like to see!

Chapter 6
Williamsburg: Naked Oil Wrestling on Market Square

Many of the Williamsburg townspeople had already gathered at the site of the match and awaited the arrival of the wrestlers. The relatively few people who still remained on Gloucester Street gaped at the naked well-oiled boys as they paraded past them. While much had changed over the years, whistles and jibes were still the greetings of choice for a spectacle of this sort. Only when they realized that the Duke was following the boys in his carriage did they bow and cheer their popular leader as he passed.

Seth and Luke entered the makeshift arena first, and walked around its perimeter waving at the crowd. In the gathering twilight, their naked oiled bodies reflected the light of the torches that had been set up so that they shone like living bronze statues. Their well-defined muscles and half-erect cocks aroused more than just the interest of both the men and women that made up the crowd. This was obvious by the lust that shown on their faces as they were transfixed by the erotic tableau that was unfolding before them. Cheers for one or the other of the boys rose from the crowd while betting on which one would be the winner of the match took place on the sidelines.

A small platform at one side of the arena held several chairs that were reserved for the Duke and his party. This included the owners of the two slaves as well as the Duke's son and the envoy from the Duke of Washington.

Once the ducal party was in their seats, Jomo faced the dais and bowed to the Duke. Then he said in a loud voice, "Sire, I give you Seth, the pride of the Blue Boy Brothel and Luke, the pride of Sherwood plantation. For your pleasure and entertainment, they will wrestle with two out of three falls determining the winner of the match."

The Duke waved his hand in the direction of Jomo and the naked, oiled teenagers and called out, "Let the match begin."

Seth and Luke stood facing each other with each looking the other up and down. They both stretched and flexed trying to intimidate each other. Then, they began limbering up. As the light of the torches reflected off their naked and oiled bodies, the effect continued to increase their sex appeal with the crowd. If one looked closely, they could see more than one hand fingering a barely covered cock among the aroused spectators.

Cleavon Spinks circulated among the crowd soliciting bets per instructions from Nkomo. Bets were written on small pieces of paper that were placed in a small bag that he carried for that purpose. No matter which boy won the match, both the brothel owner and the planter stood to make a tidy profit even after the Duke took his cut.

Next, Jomo tied a red piece of cloth on the left ankle of Seth and a blue piece on the left ankle of Luke. Unlike wrestling in the Golden Age, the only rules for this match were no biting, kicking in the balls, or poking in the eyes. Otherwise, pretty much anything was fair game, including pinning your opponent and forcing a hard cock down his throat, or up his butt.

Both boys took their positions at opposite sides of the clearing and assumed a crouching stance. Jomo looked from one wrestler to the other. Satisfied that both were ready, he blew a whistle that he had produced from somewhere signaling the start of the match. Seth and Luke slowly circled one another, sizing each other up. Both of the naked, shiny teens glared at each other as though they could somehow force the other to submit by will alone. Suddenly, Seth lunged at Luke. With his left arm raised and his right lowered like he was going to grab him by the balls, Seth rushed Luke with the objective of throwing him off balance and taking him down. Luke, trying to avoid being grabbed, was just a second too slow to sidestep the attack. Seth managed to get him in an arm lock and quickly used one leg to throw the big farm boy off balance. The resulting takedown found both of the naked slippery boys on the grass, with Seth on top of Luke trying hard to hold onto his position in the slick oil that covered them both.

Jomo, performing as the referee, called out, "Ten points red, takedown."

Luke struggled to free himself from the position, and then gasped as Seth used one hand to grab his balls. The big farm boy yelled as his testicles were squeezed by the white boy. Seth held onto the bigger boy for a lingering moment as he continued to squeeze the well-oiled jewels.

"Five points red, ball grab," again ruled Jomo.

Although the takedown had left Seth in the better position, the oil on their bodies made it difficult for him to exploit his advantage. Somehow, Luke broke free of Seth's clutch hold on his balls. While struggling in the slick oil that covered them both, he managed to throw Seth off-balance just enough to roll him over and onto his side. In the seconds that took, the tables were turned, and now Luke was on top of Seth.

"Five points blue, reverse," ruled Jomo.

The match sexually excited both boys. The rubbing of their naked bodies against one another had caused both of them to become fully erect. In this new position, Luke had the advantage of having his hard penis up against Seth's lower back. The sweat and oil that covered both of the struggling boys added to the erotic effect this was having on each of them. Luke worked until he had Seth in an arm bar. Once he had the white teen's well-oiled upper body spread-eagled in the hold, his one free hand felt for his opponent's hard cock. Standing straight up, it was an inviting target nestled there among his short ash-blond pubic hair. Luke wrapped his hand around the hard organ and slid it up and down using the oil that was already there as a lubricant.

"Five points blue, hand on cock," again ruled Jomo.

Luke grunted and struggling quickly broke the hold and pulled away from Seth.

"Five points red, escaping hold," announced Jomo.

Struggling, both boys quickly got to their feet and rushed at each other, trying hard to gain an advantage over the other. There was a loud noise as they slapped against each other's slick, oily body. Then, they grabbed one another around the neck, and dug their feet into the grassy turf in an attempt to steady themselves. As they faced each other, they pressed against one another with only the grunts of their struggle and the cheers and taunts of the leering, half-drunken crowd yelling for them to pin this one or that one. Their slick, muscular, naked bodies glistened in the torchlight. Their faces were only inches apart. Then, Luke pressed against Seth and their lips met and they kissed as the farm boy held the brothel boy close to him and did not let him go.

"Lip-lock, five points, red and blue," chortled Jomo.

Both boys held their wet, passionate kiss and slowly moved their hands down to each other's cocks. Then Seth suddenly dropped to his knees and slid Luke's hard cock into his mouth. Luke struggled to free himself, but Seth was holding him tightly around his legs at the knees and he was unable to break the hold.

"Mouth on cock, ten points, red," announced Jomo. Then he separated the two boys and the circling started again.

This give and take went on for what must have been another fifteen minutes until Luke threw Seth off balance and, in a surprise move, pinned the whitey to the ground with Luke receiving 20 points for the final pin.

Seth remained crouched on the ground as Jomo raised Luke's arm in the air in the traditional sign of victory. The crowd cheered wildly as the naked, muscular, and now sweaty boy paraded around the makeshift arena, acknowledging their cheers.

When Luke had Seth pinned beneath him he couldn't help but admire the curving shape of the white boy's ass. While he was pinned, Seth could feel the heat emanating from Luke's hard cock and knew that in response his own penis was straining to add to its length. The close contact of the match kept both boys fully aroused while the light of the torches reflected off their oily bodies. Now, as he paraded around the arena, Luke thought of just how much he wanted to win the match just so he would have the right to do whatever he wanted with Seth as the loser. As a result, his penis was fully erect and dripping precum in anticipation of victory. His rock-hard cock standing out from his body drove the crowd wild as they realized that one of these boys would soon be pinning the other to the ground with more than just a wrestling hold. Just thinking about what was coming caused many in the crowd to rub their crotches openly as erections seemed to spring up like mushrooms after a spring rain.

***

Jomo found it hard to be heard over the noisy crowd but was finally able to announce a five-minute break between the rounds of the match. Billy and Cupid, wearing only their skimpiest tight shorts that covered (but barely concealed) their manhood, circulated among the crowd selling beer while Cleavon took in more bets on the outcome of the match. Billy was wide-eyed. He couldn't believe that Seth and Luke were wrestling naked in front of this large crowd in, of all things, a public place. Since being a slave, he had learned that your body was not your own and that you could be ordered to do all sorts of things that only a short time ago would never have entered his mind. Nevertheless, he had not realized until the match just how different life as a slave actually was from what he had known as a free boy up on the banks of the Choptank. Stools were produced from somewhere and both wrestlers dropped on them to catch their breath, have a little water, and have more oil rubbed on their naked bodies. These duties were handled by two of the Duke's stable hands. In addition to the wrestlers' overall bodies, each used a generous amount of oil to rub the boys' hard penises taking care not to cause either one to climax before the match was decided.

***

On the little platform where the Duke and his party sat, beer was poured from a pitcher for he and his guests. As their glasses were filled, the envoy from the Duke of Washington turned to his host and said, "An excellent match, sire. We have not its equal in our city. Sometime in the future, I would hope that you would permit these boys to compete in Washington."

"We would enjoy that opportunity very much. What say you that we discuss this further in the morning when we are all thinking straight?"

"As you wish sire," replied the envoy.

***

The second fall came as something of a surprise. Halfway through the round, Seth lunged at Luke but in doing so stumbled and lost his balance, falling face down on the grass of the makeshift arena. Momentarily stunned by the fall, Seth just lay there for a second too long. Taking advantage of his opportunity, Luke leaped on his opponent and straddled him. He reached down and pulled Seth up slightly while sitting on his back. He took a moment and rubbed his rock-hard cock up and down against the white boy's hole. The crowd went wild and roared its approval thinking that he was about to ram his man meat home.

Seth struggled to free himself, but before he could do anything, the big farm boy had both of his arms pinned across his thighs with his knees. Once Luke had Seth's arms held firmly where he wanted them, he reached forward and cupped his hands around his opponent's chin in such a manner that his fingers were interlocked. Leaning back while pulling on his opponent's chin he applied pressure to Luke's back in a reverse chin lock.

"Ten points blue, chin lock," ruled Jomo.

No matter how much the white boy tried, he could not break the hold. The two of them remained like that for at least two full minutes. Their muscles were tense and straining with their bodies covered in oil and sweat that glistened in the torch light. It would not have crossed their minds, but they seemed like a living recreation of some ancient Roman statue. Finally, Seth was forced to tap out, yielding the round.

Jomo called out "Winner, blue by tap out." Then, he took Luke's arm and raised it in the sign of victory, and added in a loud voice, "Two out of three falls. Blue is the winner of the match." The crowd roared their agreement and erupted in cheers and clapping.

The Duke rose from his chair and raised his hands calling for silence. Once the crowd had calmed down, he addressed them saying, "Both wrestlers did well here today. Luke, the farm boy, is the winner and as such may claim his prize."

The muscular tan teenager bowed to the Duke and then turned to Seth who was still lying on the ground on his stomach. He bent over and whispered something in his ear. Then the whitey raised up on his hands and knees. He hung his head down dejectedly seeming to look at the ground as he waited for the inevitable.

Luke took a minute and savored the moment of his triumph. Slowly, he stroked his already rock-hard cock. Calmly, he made sure that it was well lubricated. Those closest to him in the front seats could see that it was already throbbing and dripping precum in anticipation of sex with the white boy on the ground before him.

Seth reached up and took the hard cock in his hand, running his clenched fingers up and down it a few times. Then, he opened his mouth and began to lick and suck on it. Luke stood there glassy-eyed, leaning back a little as the white boy fulfilled his fantasies with his mouth.

Before Seth could bring him to climax, Luke pulled him away from his man-meat and pushed him over so that his butt was in the air. The way he was positioned meant that his hole was a waiting target. Luke held Seth by the shoulders and lined up his penis with the other boy's hole. For a few moments, he played with him, thrusting his hard cock over the surface of the white boy's ass so as to signal what was coming next. Then, he backed off, aimed, and thrust his firm, erect cock into Seth's boy hole.

The crowd could see a flash of pain as it crossed Seth's face when Luke's thick cock was thrust deep into him. Fortunately, the oil that coated his penis was enough lubricant to convert the pain into pleasure in only a few thrusts. Shouts from the onlookers rang out and they began to count the strokes as Luke rode the boy on the ground beneath him. Luke grasped Seth's wide-spread legs and plunged forward aching to get as much of his penis inside the other boy as he possibly could. His organ rubbed Seth's prostate and the big farm boy's eyes glazed over as he was carried blissfully to the peak of sexual pleasure. In response, the white boy squeezed his butt muscles around the big farm boy's erect penis as hard as he could. To Luke it felt wonderful. With a yell, he began to shake as the other boy's butt alternated between clasping hard and releasing, throbbing strong and fast all-around his shaft. The two teenagers gasped and moaned and all too soon Luke ejaculated repeatedly straight into Seth's pulsating boy hole.

Watching the two teenagers have sex had caused more than one man in the audience to have a hand inside his pants. As the live sex show played out in front of them, hands quietly slid up and down erect throbbing penises. As the boys climaxed, there were several cries of passion along with those of approval as they too reached orgasm right there in the stands.

***

Later that evening, The Duke, Nkomo, and Cyrus met at the palace to divide up their profits from the bets that had been made at the wrestling match. A fire burned in the fireplace of the Duke's reception room. The three men sat around a small game table and counted out the funds by candlelight so that all could see the 'take' and would have no question about their share of the profits.

"The plan worked perfectly," said the Duke, as he sipped his wine.

"Yes, sire, it did and Luke certainly aided in satisfying the audience when he fucked Nkomo's boy at the end of the match. The crowd really loved watching the sex," responded Cyrus.

"Give the audience what they want, I always say," answered Nkomo, as he nibbled on a few nuts from the small bowl of them that was on the table.

"Arranging in advance to have Luke win the match certainly ensured us of some tidy profits," chuckled the Duke, as he reached for the decanter of wine in order to refill his glass.

"Yes, there's nothing like planning ahead. That public performance will make my boy Seth more attractive to those who want their way with an older boy and leasing Luke to me will also assure you of more profit than you could manage by just having him service the occasional visitor to your plantation. This arrangement will benefit all of us," stated Nkomo as he raised his glass for a toast as the three of them smiled knowingly at one another across the table.

Chapter 7
Williamsburg: Morning After Sex

Business was brisk at the Blue Boy that evening. It wasn't until well after midnight that the patrons had all had their fill of drinks and sex and left to sleep it off. Every boy in Nkomo's stable had serviced more than one 'guest' that evening with some having even satisfied three or four during the evening's business.

Late that night in a garret-room[*], Seth and Luke shared a bed. The reward for their performance in the evening's naked wrestling match was a night in a private room and a good bottle of wine. [* a garret is a small cramped room, usually in an attic. ed.]

They lay side by side, naked on the bed. Seth's hand was around Luke's hard massive seven-inch [18 cm] penis slowly sliding up and down. Even though the young Mandingo had already serviced three guests of the boy-brothel that evening, the very fact that he was with Seth and had him alone to himself was enough to get him hard. The difference was that he wanted to get hard with Seth, not because he had to get hard.

Seth sighed. He whispered softly to the other boy saying, "Do you think that you could beat me in a fair match?" As he spoke, he continued to run his fingers up and down the other boy's cock ensuring that it remained fully rigid while they talked.

Luke swallowed hard before answering. "Who knows? Do you think that we will ever get the opportunity to find out, or will it always be that the masters will tell us who will win?" came the answer in a dejected tone of voice.

"Maybe we can have a real match someday," replied Seth wistfully.

Luke moved his hand down and enveloped Seth's hard penis in it. Slowly, he began to run his own clutched fingers around the whitey's rock-hard cock. Then, he turned toward the other boy and snuggled closer to him. Their lips met in a tender kiss that grew more intense the longer that it lasted. Their tongues probed each other's mouth and found entrance. Their breathing grew ragged. Hands that only a moment before had only slowly stroked boy meat increased their pace until they were rapidly, almost violently, sliding up and down each other's penis. Eyes glazed as their passion erupted with bursts of cum that landed on each other's bellies. There was muffled laughter and then they licked it from each other's bodies. Another brief kiss followed and then they wrapped their arms around each other. Together they drifted off into a sleep wrought of passion and a day full of exhausting struggle that stemmed from their wrestling both on the field, and with the Blue Boy's customers.

***

Adam Rydell was the Duke of Washington's envoy to the Duke of Norfolk. He was the son of a prominent family headed by his father, Lord Rosslyn. The lord was the Duke's righthand man so that it was no surprise that his son was being groomed for big things in the Duke's administration. Being used as an envoy to a neighboring duchy was just the sort of mission that showed that the Duke trusted him and wanted him to gain experience in what passed for public service in 23^rd century-feudal America.

Like many African-Americans when the plague had broken out, Adam had what was really a light brown skin tone and not the almost black hue of those of pure African heritage. He was a good-looking young man with a face that gave no hint of his racial background. He kept his kinky black hair cut very short, almost shaved, so that his perfectly formed head complimented his good looks. In any society he would have turned the heads of both men and woman of any race. He stood six feet tall [1.85 m] and weighed a trim 175 lbs [80 kg]. He had enjoyed the sport of wrestling when he was younger. Now, at thirty, he still had good pecs and arms as well as a taut body. He maintained his well-defined six-pack by working out regularly with weights in the small private gym in the basement of the family home on what had once been the Virginia side of the Potomac.

In the guest room of the Duke's palace, he let Brutus, his slave boy, undress him. He was horny after having earlier watched those two naked and oiled slave boys. Their wrestling on the grass in that temporary stadium in the Williamsburg market place was more erotic than he ever imagined that it would be.

As he was being undressed, he wondered to himself whether he could have taken either one of those slave boys back when he was their age. The more that he thought about it, the harder his cock got. By the time Brutus undid his belt and lowered his pants, his five and a half inch [14 cm] penis was as hard as marble.

Adam looked at Brutus and calmly ordered, "Take off your clothes. I need some relief after watching all of that sex that the Duke of Norfolk was showing me as entertainment."

Brutus was a fifteen-year-old teenager. He stood about 5 foot 9 inches tall [1.75 m] and weighed around 145 pounds [65 kg] with light chestnut-brown wavy hair. Most likely, he was the child of a light brown man and an almost white woman. As a result, his natural skin color was that light shade of beige that had once passed for a good suntan among the whites who had predominated in American society before the plague. Adam had purchased him in the slave market of Washington only a year ago after "testing" him in the private rooms of the market as to his ability to perform a good blow job.

The boy was not surprised by Adam's words. He had quickly learned what aroused the man that now lay on the bed. He stood there and did as his master ordered. First, he unbuttoned his off-white shirt and took it off, and then carefully placed it on the bench at the end of the bed. He kicked off his shoes, then reached down and slipped out of his socks. Lastly, he untied the sash that served as an ornamental belt and let his black cotton pants fall to the floor. Stepping out of them, he then scooped them up and placed them beside the shirt on the bench. Slowly he turned to face his master, who was sprawled out naked on the bed, and had been taking in his every move.

Adam stroked his cock as he eyed the naked boy standing at the foot of the bed. Looking at the lean, muscular form of his slave was something that he liked to do when he could. As a result, he kept young Brutus naked as much as possible when they were alone. Having no immediate family of his own, he liked to look at the boy with an undisguised lust that was perfectly permissible for someone of his station in what amounted to the feudal society of his day.

He let his eyes wander slowly over Brutus's well-developed chest, letting his eyes linger on his dime-sized brown nipples. The boy's well-defined abs, that pulsated with his breathing, next caught his attention. Then, ever so slowly, his eyes shifted to his smooth, clean-shaven, pubic area. In its center, Brutus's three-inch [7½ cm] flaccid penis was just beginning to rise in response to what he knew was coming from his master.

"Come to me," commanded Adam.

Knowing how much Adam liked to look at him, Brutus slowly climbed onto the bed. He stopped for a moment resting on his knees and looked back at his master. Adam swallowed hard and then nodded his head, silently signaling him to proceed. The boy leaned forward on his hands and then slowly turned over as he lay down on his back. Using both hands, he took hold of his ankles and pulled his legs up close to his chest so that his rosebud was fully exposed. His cock drooling in anticipation, Adam got up on his knees and centered his hard organ on the waiting opening. Slowly and deliberately, he shoved his hard penis into the boy.

Brutus had a penis which, when flaccid, was 3 inches [7½ cm] in length, and when erect was very respectable at 6 inches [15 cm], especially for a boy of fifteen. The darker glans protruded from a short foreskin that served as a slightly asymmetrical cap to the boy's penis. Overall, his package was somewhat darker than the rest of him which only added to his allure. His master's current attraction, his butt-hole, was large enough to accommodate the man's penis, yet tight enough to make its use as a sex hole pleasurable to both the boy and the man.

By now, Brutus knew to expect Adam's hard driving dick, the kind that makes your eyes water. Secretly, he wanted to be pinned against the bed or the wall or the floor while his butt was hammered. He wanted his ass to feel every thrust, every pain, every thrill of it as Adam's rock-hard penis pounded him. Somehow, he needed it. He just needed it. Horny from the foreplay, Brutus' cock felt harder than usual and had started leaking, so he opened wide and took it because he knew that his master wasn't quitting until the job was done.

As he thrust in and out, the thirty-year-old diplomat could not help but think that life could not get much better than this.

***

Early the next morning high up in his garret, the small attic window allowed the first rays of the sun to fall on Billy's young face, warming it. As he began his slow rise to a waking state, his dreams of naked wrestling, with him opposite the Duke's son, began to fade.

Rubbing his eyes and slowly stretching out his arms, Billy suddenly realized that there was someone in bed with him. Startled, and not quite fully awake, he struggled to remember the night before. Then it came to him, it was Cyrus who was stretched out next to him on the bed. The planter was still fast asleep. Having arrived late from his meeting with the Duke, he had satisfied his own passions with Billy before falling into an alcohol-induced sleep. While not a common practice, Billy was aware that there were times when a customer spent the night at the Blue Boy.

Quietly, he got out of bed and went over to the low chest of drawers that was the room's only other piece of furniture besides the bed. Together with the pitcher of water, and the basin that sat there, he used one of the clean towels that was alongside of them to carefully wash his face and sponge off his body. After all, if a customer wanted more sex in the morning, a boy had to be ready to satisfy his wants and needs.

Since Cyrus was asleep, Billy took the opportunity to take a good look at his 'customer.' The man on the other side of the bed was lean and wiry. If he had been standing, he would have stood about five feet nine inches tall [1.75 m] and weighed a slender 145 lbs [66 kg]. His face had that light ruddy-red-brown look of a man with part African heritage, who had spent much of his life working outdoors in the sun. Billy noted that he had little in the way of body hair except for that of his pubic area which was both black and dense but cut short.

Making sure that he did not wake him, Billy slipped on his pants and silently opened the door. With a quick look back to ensure that the man was still sleeping, he went in search of food and drink that would constitute a light breakfast for his customer. After all, the Blue Boy had a reputation for taking good care of those who frequented its premises.

***

Meanwhile, over at the palace, Adam was preparing for his next meeting with the Duke. With Brutus' assistance, Adam finished dressing and went down the big central staircase of the palace. At the bottom, one of the palace servants escorted him to the same room where, the night before, the Duke had met with Nkomo and Cyrus. Now, however, it was set for an intimate breakfast.

The present Duke's ancestor had moved into the palace when it became apparent that the plague was killing off the majority of the people of his day. Establishing his rule from this building had had the dual effect of establishing and projecting his authority among the survivors, as well as saving the building from falling into ruin. As a result, even after all these years, most of the original 18^th century furnishings were still in place. Newer than the furniture, however, was a painting above the fireplace, a portrait of the first Duke, founder of the ruling dynasty.

Adam stood there looking up at the portrait while he waited for the current Duke to join him. The young man was a trade envoy. The lands of the Duke of Norfolk produced food while the Duchy of Washington, with its vast array of long empty office buildings, had a lot of surplus manufactured products as well as salvaged building materials with which to trade.

Adam had not been in the room for long when the Duke came through the door. The older man greeted him warmly and motioned to the nearby servant to bring them breakfast.

Over the food that followed, the two of them agreed on an exchange of goods that would be beneficial for both parties. The Duke of Norfolk needed building materials, both to repair and rebuild the housing for his subjects, as well as for the military installations in his duchy. Washington, as always, needed food to augment what they were able to produce in their own duchy, which was never enough to feed their population.

The collapse of the American government had left a wealth of now useless office space and office furnishings in Washington that, even after 200 years, still yielded salvage that provided many things that the existing feudal society could not produce. For the most part, these were things made of metal, like office furniture, that could be melted down for reuse in a time when metal refining was almost a lost art.

***

Billy returned to the garret with a plate of bread and cheese along with a mug of mulled wine punch. As he opened the door, he could see that Cyrus was just waking up. The planter sat up on the edge of the bed still naked and smiled knowingly at the boy as he entered the room.

The man gestured to Billy to put the tray on the bureau. "Come to me," he said. "I want more of you."

Billy set the tray down and turned to face his customer. Without having to be told, he unfastened his pants and let them fall to the floor. He stepped out of them and stood facing Cyrus. Anticipating what was coming next, his four-inch [10 cm] penis had started to rise rapidly. The plump white rod of warm rigid flesh, with its short foreskin, was fascinating to the brown man on the bed. Billy stroked the shaft with his thumb and forefinger, repeating the motion several times. He suppressed a giggle as his erection slapped against the soft hairless skin of his lower belly.

Cyrus liked to suck the cocks of boys. However, this was something that he felt was better kept a secret lest he somehow appear to be unmanly to other men. After all, this was a time when planters were often known for how many children they had fathered with their female slaves. Here, in a garret-room at the Blue Boy, he could indulge his secret passion with no one being the wiser.

Slowly, Billy moved up closer to the older man. The planter reached out and closed his own fingers around the boy's hard penis. He looked at it intently, taking in every detail as he stroked it.

"Lie down on the bed," he commanded.

Billy lay back against the quilt that covered the bed and spread his legs. Cyrus got down on his knees in front of the boy. He continued to hold the young whitey's erection firmly in one hand while he slowly licked the hard piece of boy meat that was before him. It was apparent that he was enjoying every minute that he did so. Then, he closed his lips around it and began to suck. With his other hand, he jacked his own cock. It did not take long for Billy to climax with several large bursts of cum. Cyrus followed him with his own spurts of gray-white fluid. Afterwards, both Cyrus and Billy lay on the bed, breathing hard. Both were convinced that they had had some really good sex. Then, they turned to the food and wine that awaited them on the bureau.

***

In his office at the Blue Boy, Nkomo sat behind his desk and counted the profits from the night before. A smile crossed his face as counted the coins. Between the bets on the wrestling match and the extra customers that it had brought to the brothel, he had done quite well for himself. Even after giving Cyrus and the Duke their share, he had accumulated more than he would normally make in two Saturday nights during a normal business week.

He rang the small hand bell that sat on his desk. In what seemed like only a moment, the slender, small-framed form of 13-year-old Deon came through the door and stood with his head bowed before Nkomo's desk.

"Cleavon tells me that the tinsmith from over on Francis Street was in last night and treated you badly. Is that true? Tell me honestly," inquired Nkomo of his slave.

"Master, he was drunk and used his belt to beat me once we were in the room where no one could see us," replied the boy meekly, not wanting to provoke his master if he spoke ill of a paying customer.

Nkomo looked up and down the ledger in front of him and then said coldly, "There is no record that he paid for that privilege. Did he leave marks on you? I want to see for myself. Strip and show me your body," commanded the older man.

In response, the boy pulled off the rough cotton shirt that he wore. He followed this with unbuckling his belt and letting his oversized cotton pants drop to the floor. Nkomo looked him up and down as he stood there naked with his eyes fixed on the floor. The boy scratched his surprisingly large flaccid penis as he slowly and deliberately turned so that his back was on full view. Even with his dark brown almost black skin, it was obvious that there were several large welts on his back. In two or three places it was clear that the skin had been broken where there was dried blood visible against the dark skin.

Nkomo hissed under his breath and rang the bell again, this time violently.

In response, Cleavon appeared in the doorway saying, "Yes, master?"

"Go over to the tinsmith's shop on Francis Street and tell that bastard that he owes me for whipping Deon, my slave boy, without paying. If he gives you any lip, tell him I said that he will not be welcome back in the Blue Boy until he pays up!"

"Immediately, master," replied the younger man.

Nkomo waved him out of the room and turned back to the naked boy who stood before him. "Get cook to give you some grease to put on those welts. For the next day or two, I want you to keep your shirt on in the common room. Just let customers see your chest and keep the light down to one candle in the room when you take care of a customer's needs. They won't care if you're marked with some welts when you're sucking them off or they're buried deep within you," instructed the owner of the Blue Boy.

"Yes, master. I understand," answered the boy.

Nkomo waved his hand, dismissing him. The boy picked up his clothes from the floor and then turned and left the room, still naked. Secretly, a smile crossed his face as he thought to himself, that should teach that bastard not to beat me without paying the master!

***

Cleavon left the brothel and hurried the two blocks to the tinsmith's shop on Francis Street. With few people able to read and write in the 23^rd century, the sign over the open door of the barn-like shop was a silver-colored tankard that meant to passers-by that within was a tin shop.

When he entered the shop, the tinsmith was assembling a mold on the big wooden workbench that stood in the middle of the shop. His apprentice boy was close beside him, watching him work on the mold. The room was uncomfortably hot from the fire on the grate that stood at the far end of the room. Both the man and the boy were shirtless but wore leather aprons to protect themselves from any molten metal that might spill from the mold when it was filled with liquid tin.

The tinsmith was a big man of true African heritage. He was solidly built and stood a little over six feet tall [1.90 m], and must have weighed close to 200 lbs [90 kg]. His skin color was almost black. Kinky black hair that was cut short crowned his distinctly African features. From hard work, he had developed heavily muscled arms and well-defined pecs.

At first, the smith, whose name was Marcus, did not notice Cleavon and continued working on the mold in front of him. Nkomo's messenger stood there, looked at him, and winced. This is not someone with whom I would want to tangle, he thought to himself, as he watched the muscles of the bigger man's arms bulge as they assembled the mold.

In contrast, the apprentice boy was rail thin. He appeared to be about thirteen, or maybe fourteen. Cleavon guessed that he was about five feet five inches tall [1.70 m] and could not have weighed more than 135 lbs [61 kg]. Since his skin tone was light brown, Cleavon felt that it was unlikely that he was the smith's son.

The boy looked up and saw Cleavon standing there admiring him, and alerted the smith by saying, "Master, there is a man here to see you."

The smith turned to look at the smaller man. Slowly and deliberately, he looked him up and down before saying, "What can I do for you?"

"Nkomo, the owner of the Blue Boy, sent me over to see you," replied Cleavon.

"About what?" asked the big man quizzically.

"It seems that you were there last night and beat one of his boys without paying for the privilege. He wants you to settle accounts," explained the other man.

"What the hell is he talking about?" demanded Marcus. "Yes, I was in there last night for a pint or two, but I don't remember beating any of his boys."

"Several of his staff would disagree with you," retorted Cleavon. "They claim that you took Deon, one of the smaller boys, up to one of the private rooms for some sex. When you left, the boy had welts on his back that were not there before you went into the room. They are saying that you were drunk at the time."

"Oh, crap! I must have gotten drunk by mixing what I had before I stopped in at the Blue Boy with what I drank there. If I mix different kinds of alcohol, I get drunk very quickly," explained the big man.

"That would do it for most men," answered Cleavon.

"Ok, tell Nkomo that I'll stop by tomorrow and settle up."

The smith noticed that Cleavon had not taken his eyes off his apprentice while talking to him. He reached out and grabbed the boy by the arm and pulled him up close to him. Without any warning he bent down and kissed the boy hard on the mouth while using one of his big hands to squeeze the boy's slim ass, as the other one continued to hold him close.

Marcus looked at the boy and said, "Kwame, this man would like to see what you look like naked."

Turning back toward the smaller man he asked, "You would like to see that, wouldn't you?

Cleavon shifted his weight nervously. He wasn't sure how to answer the smith. He thought to himself that yes, he would like to see the boy naked. At the same time, he knew that could not trade anything owed to Nkomo, his master, for the man's debt.

Finally, he decided that it would be best to just answer truthfully. "I always appreciate seeing good naked boy-flesh like Kwame here, however, I just work for Mr. Nkomo. Please understand that I can't negotiate any change in what you owe him, even if you gave me sex with your boy."

Marcus smiled and nodded in the direction of the boy. In response, the youngster untied the leather apron that he was wearing and took it off. He laid it on the work table and turned, facing Cleavon. He was so thin that his ribs stood out prominently making him look even more undernourished than he actually was. Next, he untied the length of lite line that held up his ragged cotton pants. They dropped to the floor of the smithy and he stood there naked, facing the two men. His three-inch [8 cm] flaccid dark brown penis, topped by a small tuft of black hair, twitched, inviting closer examination.

"He's definitely a good-looking boy," replied Cleavon diplomatically, as he looked the smith's naked apprentice up and down and wondered what the man had in mind.

The smith took off his own leather apron and laid it on the work bench. Then, he pulled the naked boy up to him and held him close, pressing his body against his own bare chest. Slowly, he proceeded to lick the side of Kwame's face with his tongue, while he used one hand to feel his hardening penis. In response, the boy's cock quickly hardened to its full 4 and a half inch [11cm] size. Marcus took his time as he continued to feel the boy's penis with one hand while the other began to roam over the slim chest with its small dark brown nipples.

With his free hand, the smith undid the leather belt that held up his own pants and pushed them down to mid-thigh revealing his own hard, thick, black, 7-inch organ.

Suddenly, Marcus shoved the boy face down over the work bench and kicked his feet apart so that his hole was a waiting target. Without any foreplay, the smith rammed his rock-hard cock into the boy. Tears ran down Kwame's face which seemed to excite the man. The pace of his thrusts increased until there was almost no pause between them.

Cleavon was startled as the apprentice screamed in pain from the invasion of his body by the man-sized piece of black meat. He could not help but think that even if the boy was indentured to the smith, the man was, in effect, raping the boy.

Marcus quickly reached orgasm and emptied his seed into the boy. Just as quickly, he withdrew his still-dripping penis from the crying child. He took a rag from the work bench and wiped off his piece of black meat. Satisfied that he had removed the remaining cum, he pulled up his pants and reached for his belt that lay on the workbench.

"Like I said, tell Nkomo that I'll be over to settle accounts," echoed Marcus as he secured his pants.

"I will," replied Cleavon. Then he turned toward the door and left the smithy.

As he headed back to The Blue Boy, he could not help but wonder at what he had just seen. Why had the smith in effect raped his apprentice boy right there in front of me? It wasn't like I could forgive any of his debt to Nkomo. What did he hope to gain? Was that just to show me how tough he was?

These were the thoughts that ran through his head that morning as he headed back to the brothel on the other side of Market Square.

Chapter 8
Fredericksburg: The Raid on Chatham Manor

Since it was early in the day, there was little activity at the Blue Boy as Cleavon entered the common room. Only two older men sat at one of the tables drinking and talking in low whispers. One of the boys, whose job it was to serve drinks, came up to their table to see if they wanted another round, but he was waved off as they continued their conversation. Cleavon recognized the men as 'regulars' and nodded to them as he continued through the room on his way to the back where Nkomo's office was located.

As he reached the door of his master's office he could hear panting sounds and realized that Nkomo must be enjoying the services of one of the boys to fulfill his own needs. Knowing that the older man did not want to be interrupted when he was having sex, he waited until the sounds coming from the office ceased. Only then did he knock discreetly.

There was a short silence and then "Come," came the command from within.

Cleavon opened the door slowly and looked in. Young Deon stood there naked holding his pants while Nkomo stood behind his desk arranging his own clothes as he finished fastening his belt.

A slender, small-framed boy of 13, Deon stumbled as he stood on one leg trying to step into his rough cotton pants. The youngster's surprisingly large flaccid penis wobbled as he turned so that all of his back side was on full view. Inwardly, Cleavon winced. The large welts on Deon's back only served to remind him of the days when he was forced to endure a beating now and then from a customer who got off on that sort of thing.

"What do you want?" asked Nkomo in a gruff voice, obviously none too happy about his man's knock on the door just as he finished ass-fucking his slave boy.

"I went over on Francis Street and spoke with Marcus, the smith, about the beating that he gave this boy without paying for the right to do it. He said that he didn't remember doing it, but that he had been drinking before coming to the Blue Boy and then mixing what he was drinking once he was here. He said that would have been enough to make him drunk and forget what he had been doing the night before when he woke up this morning. He plans to come over and settle up with you later today," reported Cleavon.

He hesitated before adding, "Strangely enough, he raped Kwame, his apprentice boy, right in front of me while I stood there. I know that the boy is his to do with pretty much as he pleases, but I was surprised that he was willing to rape the kid with me standing there."

Nkomo cocked an eyebrow, shifted his weight, and then laughed. "He was just sending me a message," replied the brothel owner. "That means that he's willing to let me have Kwame for a few days to pay off his debt. That kid's going to get a good ass pounding until he's paid off what Marcus owes me."

***

After the Duke and Adam Rydell had finished their trade negotiations, they concluded their discussions with a drink. While it was still early in the day, Adam was, after all, a diplomat and took the offered glass. Slowly, he drank the alcoholic amber liquid without hesitation. Secretly, he hoped that this was all that the Duke wanted to drink. Alcohol was not really his thing. Trying to move things in another direction, he said, "You have beautiful gardens around the palace. It's something of which you can be justly proud. I doubt that there is anything like them anywhere in the Tidewater."

The Duke beamed. One of the things that had been handed down in his family was the need to maintain a strong, imposing image so that his subjects knew that he was both important and in charge. In response he replied, "I'm glad that you like my gardens. Their design dates back almost four hundred years before the great plague to the days when the palace was originally built. When this building was restored more than 250 years ago, they were replanted in the original 18^th century style. Would you like to see them up close? I would be pleased to show you a few of the more important plantings."

Adam gave a slight bow to the Duke and answered saying, "It would be an honor to see them, sire."

The two men walked through the paneled stair hall and into the ball room of the palace. Adam was surprised to see the portraits of what were obviously long dead kings and queens on the walls of the room. Sensing his surprise, the Duke said, "These are portraits of some kings and queens of England that hung here in the 18^th century. They were here when my ancestor moved into the palace. He kept them to show visitors that he was now the master of the palace in the same tradition that the paintings represented."

Adam thought to himself that the ancestor had been a master of public relations, but only nodded his head in response. Then he added, "A wise move on his part, sire."

Exiting the door to the gardens, the Duke and Adam stood there a moment on the stone landing looking across at the trimmed greenery. Over the centuries, the yaupon hollies that lined the graveled path that were once trimmed into cylindrical shapes had grown to be huge and much more tree-like than had been intended for the original 18^th century formal garden. Two teenaged boys worked at trimming the one nearest the landing. Except for loin cloths, the boys worked naked in the warmth of the morning sun.

The boys had their backs to the two men and did not see them. The one on the left playfully poked the other one in the ribs eliciting a squeal and an imperfect cut of the branch on which he was working.

Adam could see the face of the Duke darken. His voice was loud and threatening as he hollered at them, "What do you two think you are doing? You're supposed to be trimming those damn things, not playing with them here in the garden."

Both boys jumped as though they had been struck by lightning. Wide-eyed, they turned and quickly fell to one knee and bowed their heads before the Duke. Adam could see that they were quaking in fear.

Hearing the Duke yelling at the boys, the head gardener came running up the gravel pathway. Stopping a few feet away, he bowed to the unhappy man and asked, "Sire, what is the matter here?"

"These slackers are playing when they should be working. That's the problem!" responded the Duke in an angry voice. "Strip them and have them lie down on the grass. Then, give me your whip," he ordered.

The head gardener was an older man whose name was Denis. He was a dark-skinned black man who stood about 5 foot 10 (about 1.8 m) tall and weighed about 180 lbs (82 kg). He had spent his whole life in the service of the Dukes of Norfolk. Little known was the fact that he was the half-brother of the present Duke, a bastard child of one of the present Duke's father's female slaves. Showing his displeasure, he frowned and motioned for the boys to stand up and face him.

Turning to look at them he admonished them saying, "I'm ashamed of you two. You know better than to goof off while you're supposed to be working. Now strip off those rags and lie down on the grass and take your punishment. You've earned it." With that he turned to hand his whip to the Duke.

The boys slowly untied their loin cloths and let them drop to the gravel of the path. They stood there for a moment, fear plainly visible in their eyes.

Both of the boys were about five feet nine inches [about 1.8 m] tall and weighed approximately 150 lbs [68 kg]. From a life of hard work, they were lean, muscular young men. Their light brown bodies were sweat-stained from working in the heat. Each had prominent four-inch [10 cm] penises that hung over good-sized balls that were carried close to their bodies.

"Wait. I have a better idea," said the Duke. "What are their names?"

"Master, we call the garden slaves by the name of their position on the staff. These two are 'Siete' and 'Ocho' after the tradition that the first duke began," replied Dennis respectfully.

"Yes, now I remember," replied the Duke. "Since you two want to play, let's play. Siete, get down on your knees. My guest and I will enjoy seeing how well the two of you can play. Obviously, you also need more training in maintenance work, if you are going to continue to work in my garden."

Ocho stood there wide-eyed as his friend reached out his hand and took his hardening penis in his right hand. With his left, he played with Ocho's balls. While the unfortunate teenager was not happy about the three men standing there watching, his penis was fully hard in only seconds. Siete took the boy meat in his warm mouth and sucked on it vigorously. Ocho gasped as his teenaged body responded to the stimulation that his erection received from his friend's mouth.

It was easy to see that it felt good. In all honesty, everyone there knew exactly how it felt to be on the receiving end of such passion. Those watching could sense when the boy was about to shoot. Then, his nuts clenched and cum shot from his rock-hard penis into Siete's mouth. The cocksucker gagged on the big load of cum as he tried to swallow the large amount of that the horny boy produced. The excess dribbled down his chin and onto his chest and belly, with some dripping onto the ground. Of necessity, he released Ocho's penis and his head dropped to the grass of the parterre.

Turning to the head gardener, the Duke said, "Take these two to the barnyard and give each of them five lashes on their bare asses. That should teach them to work and not play."

"Yes, sire," replied Dennis with a slight bow. He motioned to the two boys to follow him. "It will be done as you have ordered." Then, he herded the naked boys toward a gate in the high brick wall that surrounded the section of the garden where they stood.

The Duke turned to Adam and said, "I'm sorry for the breach of discipline. I assure you that this is not the way my palace usually functions."

"It is nothing, sire. We all have to discipline our slaves from time to time," replied the young envoy diplomatically. "Otherwise, there would be no order to things."

"So, true. So, true," mused the Duke, and turning to a large shrub, he added, "This is one of the famous camellias that were planted by my great-grandmother. You must return when it is in bloom."

***

That afternoon, Nkomo paced up and down in the Duke's reception room. He was pissed. He had other things to do besides running back and forth to the palace every time the Duke got some wild hair up his ass. Fortunately, he didn't have long to wait.

As the Duke strode into the room, it was obvious that the middle-aged man was in good spirits. Taking his cue, Nkomo hid his irritation, bowed, and asked, "Good afternoon, sire. How may I be of service?"

"I've been meeting with Adam Ruddell, that young envoy from the court of the Duke of Washington. It seems that the Duke has heard of our wrestlers here in Williamsburg. I would like for us to stage a match in Washington. In addition to the diplomatic benefits, we should be able to make a good profit from the bets that we can make during the match."

Nkomo smiled and thought to himself, This hasn't been a wasted trip after all.

***

Three days later Adam Ruddell, and what was fast becoming the Williamsburg wrestling team, reached the outskirts of Fredericksburg in what was the southern reach of the Duke of Washington's authority. It had not been a pleasant trip. While the most direct route would have been up the peninsula to Richmond along what had once been the interstate highway (I-64), the Richmond area was still fairly lawless with neither the Duke of Norfolk nor the Duke of Washington able to fully subjugate the few people who still lived there.

When the plague had killed off much of the population of that city, two rival gangs had fought over what was left. Even now, these two lawless bands continued their feud, constantly threatening the poor wretches of that area. However, in the past year it had been rumored that a leader had arisen among them who was having some success in getting the two rival gangs to work together.

The people who lived there were considered to be the dregs of the feudal society that constituted America in the 23^rd century. Life was cheap among them and even an official party of a landed duke was not entirely safe on the roads around what was once the capitol of Virginia.

Discretion dictated a more circumspect route to avoid the bandits that lay in wait for the unwary traveler who ventured along that road. As a result, the travelers had gone north from Williamsburg and crossed the York River. Following what had once been Highway 17, they found themselves in the friendly (and relatively well defended) area around Fredericksburg, some 60 miles north of what was left of Richmond.

Unfortunately, the road was poorly, if at all, maintained and they found themselves forced to go around some of the larger potholes, and even ford a small stream along the way. Since they had brought the wrestling team in a wagon, this slowed them down considerably in the process.

As he stood there looking at Fredericksburg as it lay before him, Adam Ruddell thought to himself that the next time he had to go to Williamsburg he was definitely going to go by ship. Dragging along this team of wrestlers had meant that they made even slower progress than he would normally have expected.

In addition to the two guards that he had brought with him from Washington and his man-servant, Brutus, he had with him in his party both Seth and Luke. These were the very same two wrestlers who had performed in the very erotic nude wrestling match on Market Square, there in Williamsburg.

Whereas Seth was a 'whitey', Luke was what four hundred years earlier would have been called a 'Mandingo'. He was a deep tan and stood six feet [1.85 m] tall and weighed a very muscular 190 lbs [86 kg]. This compared to Seth's five foot ten [1.80] and 185 lbs [84 kg].

Adam looked the two of them over as they stood there beside him, while he rested on his horse. He could not fail to be impressed. Even in the loose-fitting slave clothing, he could easily see that their upper bodies were muscular and well-defined. It crossed his mind that this was most likely from a life composed of both hard work and the training for matches such as the one planned for Washington. Both had well-developed biceps and pectoral muscles. However, where Seth looked well-built with a good, if somewhat lean, build, Luke had the appearance of being massive by comparison. It was the bigger man's particularly large hard arms and prominent pecs that gave this impression. These were what always impressed the crowd when he wrestled.

In addition, Nkomo had decided to send Cleavon along to manage the wrestling team. In order to give him some help in tending to the wrestlers and their needs, he had included Billy and the tinsmith's boy, Kwame. Secretly, when the opportunity arose, he had directed Cleavon to rent out the two boys as well as the two wrestlers for sexual favors as a way to increase the profits from the Washington performance.

The Duke of Norfolk himself would have gone with them, however, a formal invitation from his equal, the Duke of Washington, would have been required for that to happen.

***

Adam Ruddell knew the Duke of Washington's man in Fredericksburg through his son, Greg. Both had trained together in their duke's military only a few years earlier. "Lord Chatham," as he was known, took his title from the name of the estate that had become the seat of his authority in the local area. Chatham Manor had been built in 1771 on the north side of the Rappahannock River in Stafford County, Virginia opposite Fredericksburg. Prior to the plague, the Georgian-style mansion and its outbuildings had been restored to their pre-Civil War condition and served as part of the military park that commemorated that war. It was to this estate that Adam and the wrestling team headed with the intent of bedding down there before striking out in the direction of Washington.

As Adam considered the desirability of having his servant sleep at his feet (or perhaps closer), there came a rustling sound from down the trail that indicated approaching riders. The young diplomat's hand, as well as those of the two men-at-arms who were serving as his guards, instinctively went to the pommels of their swords. One never knew what one might find on the road. Even if he were the Duke's man, one could not be too careful.

Swords eased their way back into their scabbards as it become apparent that it was Lord Chatham's son, Greg, who approached. He was returning with the guard, Tyree, who Adam had sent ahead to scout the trail and inform Lord Chatham that they were on their way to his estate wanting to spend the night.

Greg was a good-looking young man who would have been considered handsome in any society. He was a deep tan and stood six feet [1.85 m] tall. His firm body was lightly muscled with him weighing about 160 lbs [around 73 kg].

The young man rode up to where Adam was stopped, still mounted on his horse.

"Adam, you old dog, what brings you to Fredericksburg? I thought that they couldn't get you out of Washington with a stick," exclaimed Lord Chatham's son, an old friend of the young diplomat.

"Good to see you, too," responded Adam lightheartedly. "I'm on my way back from the court of the Duke of Norfolk. I was conducting some trade negotiations with him. He decided to send some of his best wrestlers with me for a demonstration match in Washington as a diplomatic gesture to our Duke."

"Maybe you can have them give us a little demonstration while you're here. Father has always had an eye for good boy-flesh. Boys that can wrestle would just add to it as far as he's concerned. Let's get on down to the house. Maybe we can catch him home from his rounds in the town. I know that he will be glad to see you," said Greg, with a big smile on his face.

***

Lord Chatham had indeed been glad to see Adam and his group of travelers. That night, as he was being undressed by Brutus, the young diplomat pondered whether or not Luke and Seth should do more than just give the older man a little demonstration of their skills. The more that he thought about the wrestlers, the harder his cock got. By the time Brutus undid his belt and lowered his pants, his five and a half inch [14 cm] penis was rock hard.

However erotic his thoughts were, they were interrupted by a knock on the door to his room. Adam hastily adjusted his shirt tail to cover his erection and motioned to Brutus to see who was there.

Brutus cautiously opened the door to reveal Greg standing there holding a bottle and two glasses.

"I thought that you might want a nightcap before calling it a day," said his friend with a wink and big smile on his handsome face.

Adam motioned him over to where he was sitting on the side of the bed. "I was hoping that you might drop by. I can still remember the good times that we had when we were in the Duke's army," he answered, as patted a place by his side.

Adam turned to Brutus and calmly ordered, "Take off your clothes. I'm sure that my guest and I need some relief after a hard day on horseback."

You will recall that Brutus was a fifteen-year-old teenager. He stood about 5 foot 9 inches tall [1.75 m] and weighed around 145 pounds [65 kg] with light chestnut-brown wavy hair. Looking at him, you would most likely have assumed him to be the child of a light brown man and an almost white woman. As a result, his natural skin color was that light shade of beige that had once passed for a good suntan among the whites who had dominated American society before the plague.

The boy was not surprised by Adam's words. He had quickly learned what aroused the man that now sat on the bed with his friend. He stood there and did as his master ordered. First, he unbuttoned his shirt and took it off, and then carefully placed it on a chair beside the bed. Sitting down, he took off his shoes, and then reached down and slipped off his socks. Lastly, he stood up and let his black cotton pants fall to the floor. Stepping out of them, he scooped them up and placed them beside the shirt on the chair. Slowly he turned to face his master, who was still sitting on the bed with his erection poking out from beneath his shirt.

Greg stroked his cock through his pants as he eyed the naked boy standing there beside the bed. In addition to friendship, both Adam and Greg enjoyed naked boy flesh. Adam turned to his friend and said, "What do you think of Brutus? I bought him in the Washington slave market just last year. He can do remarkable things with his mouth. I would welcome your opinion of his skills."

Greg let his eyes wander slowly over Brutus's well-developed chest. He let his eyes linger on the boy's abs as they pulsated with his breathing. Slowly, he let his gaze move down to a smooth, clean-shaven, pubic area. In its center, Brutus's three-inch [7� cm] flaccid penis was just beginning to rise in response to what he knew was coming.

"Help my friend to undress," commanded Adam.

Knowing how much Adam liked to look at him, Brutus walked slowly in the direction of the bed. He stopped for a moment and looked directly at his master. Adam swallowed hard and then nodded his head, silently signaling him to proceed. Greg stood up and allowed the boy to unbutton his shirt and slip it off. Brutus then knelt and undid the man's pants and the rest of his clothing. His already erect penis sprang from its confinement and pulsated slightly. For a moment, the boy licked it in anticipation of more to come. Looking up, he motioned for the man to sit back down. Then, he removed his shoes and socks.

Now naked, Greg leaned backward and lay down on the bed. Brutus leaned forward and took the young man's hard boy-meat in his hand. Opening wide, he enveloped the hard organ with his mouth and began to suck on it. His action was vigorous with a regular up and down motion. With one hand he played with the man's balls as he used the other to caress his nipples. Greg lay there and moaned softly as Brutus expertly worked to bring him to orgasm.

Brutus stopped sucking and grasped the shaft of Greg's penis. His fingers, already well lubricated, flew over the young man's flesh. Rapidly twisting and turning as they raced up and down his penis, stimulating every nerve. Each time his hand reached the top of the shaft, his thumb caressed the glans. Suddenly, Greg's body stiffened; his legs lifted, his knees straightened, and his muscles locked solidly. Brutus smiled as semen shot into the air.

Adam stroked his own hard dick and smiled. He was pleased that Brutus had lived up to his reputation. With his hand he motioned for the boy to come to him. They smiled at each other as both knew what the other wanted.

Just at that moment, screams penetrated the evening quiet, and the flicker of flames cast their glow through the window of the room. Only moments before, sex had dominated the thinking and actions of the two men and the slave boy. Life was about to change for all of them, and not for the better.

***

Seth and Luke, along with Billy, had been housed in a slave cabin for the night. All three of them were asleep after a hard day on the road when they were awakened by the shouts and screams that were now coming from the direction of the big house. Rushing to the windows of their cabin, they could see flames coming from the upper part of the barn. More importantly, there were also flames beginning to come from the guard house which was just across the barnyard from where they were staying.

"What the Hell is going on?" yelled Seth, as he realized that there were two of Lord Chatham's guards lying on the ground motionless in the space between where he stood and the burning guard house.

Suddenly, there was an explosion in the guard house which blew out its windows and tore the door to the small building from its hinges. The boys in the slave cabin had never experienced an explosion before. The shock wave knocked all three to the floor in a combination fall and dive. Slowly and fearfully, they got to their feet, not sure if they should run or hide. Then, looking out their now shattered window panes, they could see the destruction of the guard house as the flames leapt higher and brighter as it engulfed the small building.

"Where are the guards?" yelled Luke in a frightened voice.

"I don't see any. What's happening?" replied an equally frightened Seth.

"What caused that big noise and all of that fire?" hollered a terrified Billy, as he remembered legendary stories of 'big bangs' from tales told around the campfire at the family shack on the Choptank.

It was at least a couple of minutes before they decided to barricade the door to their cabin and wait to be told what to do. After all, they were slaves and had been trained only to act when told to do so. Besides, this looked like a good time to lie low and not stick their necks out since they had no weapons and, on top of that, no training in how to use any if they had had them.

***

Jo-Jo was a lieutenant in the 'Blue' gang that currently shared power in the Richmond area with the 'Gold' gang. This was his first mission outside of his hometown. He wanted it to go well so that he could prove his worth to his gang and to those whom he served. He was a big man who stood a couple of inches over six feet [about 1.9 m] tall and would have tipped the scales at 190 lbs [86 kg], if scales had still existed. He was one of those men whose well-developed pecs were what would have most impressed you if you had met him.

Little more than a year ago, a charismatic leader had risen from among the outlaws that vied for power and control in the ruins of Richmond. In what would prove to be a historic meeting between the leaders of the two rival gangs, and the man that they called 'The Colonel', he had been able to convince them to work together. If they did this, they would not only control the Richmond area itself, but would also be able to extend their control beyond what had once been the suburbs of that city to include the whole county and beyond.

What made his point and got their attention was the explosion that he arranged for them as a demonstration of his power. What made this possible after two hundred years of modern 'Dark Ages' was the fact that The Colonel was a scientist in the truest sense of the word. He had been taught to read and write in a tight-knit family that was descended from an artillery officer who had been in the American Army at the time of the plague. The books that he had preserved had provided the knowledge of how to make explosives. The senior male in his family had, for the past two hundred years, inherited the original title of The Colonel. Since the time his father had died, and he had become The Colonel, he had taught himself how to make explosives. Using them to take power was just the natural outcome of his studies.

Jo-Jo and his band of ten mounted men had been sent to raid the estate because they knew that Lord Chatham kept gold and silver there with which to pay his men and the others that were part of his staff. While the Richmond raiders knew that they could not carry off anything large and still make good their escape, they were certain that they could carry enough gold and silver coins in saddle bags to make the raid worthwhile. Additionally, The Colonel, and those who worked on the explosives for him, had fashioned crude but effective explosives in the form of what had once been known as hand grenades. These could be used to deter those who would try to kill or capture them after the raid.

The night raid of the Chatham estate was remarkably successful. When they had arrived, surprise had been with them and the men from Richmond had easily overcome the few guards that were awake. The fires that they had set in the barn and guard house were a diversion to attract attention while they stormed the main house and helped themselves to Lord Chatham's gold and silver.

***

When Jo-Jo and a select few of his men entered the main house, Lord Chatham was in bed with Kwame. Earlier in the evening Adam Rudell had discovered that the older man liked having his way with boys and that his taste ran to slender ones. A polite offer of Kwame to share his bed had been welcomed much like a similar offer might have been made with a slave boy prior to the American Civil War more than 300 years earlier.

As the men from Richmond's Blue Gang entered his room, Lord Chatham had poor Kwame tied up naked with his ankles tied to his wrists and positioned so that the boy's hole was a waiting target. As they looked at the scene before them, they were startled, surprised, and not a little amused to find the older man half naked on the bed with his pants around his ankles and his penis fully inserted in the boy. Thus engaged, Lord Chatham was in no position to react when Jo-Jo and his men pointed their swords at his throat (and his ass) and demanded the key to his strong box.

The master of Chatham Manor's first instinct was to scream for help from his guards, but the swords pointed at him caused him to think better of that idea. Instead, he slowly and carefully replied, "First let me pull up my pants. I don't have the key on me."

The men from Richmond stood there and burst out laughing at the sight of the viceroy of the Duke of Washington with his pants down around his ankles and his dick up the ass of a boy.

Jo-Jo replied, "Yes, you might want to do that. Otherwise, they might find you in the morning dead with your dick still buried in a boy's ass. I would imagine that would not be the best way to be remembered by your master, the Duke."

Lord Chatham turned an even deeper shade of red than he already was and started to pull out of the slender boy beneath him on the bed. Kwame cried out loudly in pain as the older man's large hard penis was hastily withdrawn from his young body. Once free, the Lord reached down pulling up his pants as his rapidly deflating cock retreated into the folds of his garments.

"You'll never get away with raiding the estate of the Duke of Washington's man in Fredericksburg," a still defiant Lord Chatham said in a condescending voice, as he rearranged his clothes and tried to regain at least some semblance of his lost dignity.

"Let us worry about that. Just produce the key and maybe we'll let you live," replied Jo-Jo, as the leader of the Richmond raiders flourished his sword in the direction of the older man's midsection.

Realizing that he was outnumbered, and not sure if the intruders would kill him, Lord Chatham fumbled on the desk beside the bed and fished out a key on a chain. Slowly and reluctantly, he handed it to Jo-Jo.

Unbeknownst to the Lord, one of his own servants there on the Chatham estate had been spying for Richmond. The result was that the raiders knew exactly where the strong box was kept. In what seemed like seconds, they had the box open on the bed and were filling a pillow case as they helped themselves to the gold and silver coins that it contained.

"Tie this old fart up and stuff something in his mouth so that he can't call for help. No need to kill him, he's useless without his guards," ordered Jo-Jo. Then he added, "Let's get out of here. We have what we came for. No need to stick around and wait for more guards to come from town to see about the fire."

***

Down the hall, three more of Jo-Jo's men flung open the door to Adam's room and ran in with swords drawn. The two naked men and the boy who were on the bed had no time or means to react. Slowly and reluctantly they put up their hands and surrendered to the raiders from Richmond.

"Tie these guys up while I search the room. Lord Chatham has what we came for. Anything that we find in here is just extra for us three," said Willie, who was the man leading this little band as well as Jo-Jo's second in command of the raiding party.

The other two men set about securing their prisoners with short lengths of rope that they had brought along with them for that purpose. Using his pocket knife, one of raiders shredded a pillowcase for strips of cloth with which to make gags for the prisoners.

"What about me screwing the young one? I'm a three-day virgin and he looks awfully sweet," asked one of the men who held a sword on Adam, Greg, and Brutus. "Besides, a little fun won't hurt anything."

"OK, Jimmy. Do what you want with him while I finish searching the room. Just don't kill any of them. The people in the house are off limits when it comes to killing. Remember, that's our orders."

The one called Jimmy threw a wicked smile as he grabbed Brutus and threw him face down on the bed, kicking his legs apart. With his other hand he pulled his six-inch [15 cm] hard cock from his pants. As the other men stood there watching, he shoved his unlubricated hard penis into the boy's hole. Brutus screamed into his gag as he was raped by the man from Richmond.

Maybe it satisfied the one called Jimmy or maybe he just needed to cum, but it was all over in little more than two minutes. Slowly, he pulled his cock from the crying boy and wiped it with the end of the bed sheet. He was still smiling that wicked smile as he pushed his now deflating penis into his loosely fitting pants. With one last gesture he ran his hand over the boy's butt saying, "Nice tight little ass."

"How about me?" asked the man with the sword. "If Jimmy can get it off, why can't I?"

"Oh Hell. I wouldn't have let him screw that kid if I'd known that I was going to start a trend," replied Willie as he finished searching the drawers of the desk beside the bed and moved over to the closet to continue his search.

"Screw one of the other ones while I check out the closet," Willie added.

With that, the other guard (whose name was Leroy) hit Adam in the gut and knocked him face down on the bed. Like Jimmy, he kicked the man's legs apart and pulled his own hard organ out of his pants. Unable to do anything to stop him, Greg and Brutus stood there almost in shock not knowing if any of them would even care that they were about to rape an ambassador of the Duke of Washington.

Leroy took a little more time than Jimmy to get his satisfaction from Adam. First, he ran his hand over the man's smooth butt as though inspecting a piece of meat in the marketplace. Then, he parted Adam's ass cheeks and spat into his hole to give it at least a little lubrication. Adam was wide-eyed on the bed unable to believe that he was about to be raped by some low-life from a lawless backwoods gang.

The raider from Richmond eased his cock into the man's hole enjoying the tightness of the almost virgin orifice. Adam had not been the object of anal sex in years. He had almost forgotten what it felt like to have your ass speared by a hard cock. He screamed and screamed again into his gag as pain enveloped him. He had forgotten just how much anal sex could hurt.

Leroy was still sliding his fat cock in and out of Adam when Willie returned. "Hurry up and cum. We need to get out of here. If we keep Jo-Jo waiting you'll have more than a hard dick to worry about," said their leader.

At that moment, the leering man reached orgasm and emptied his seed into Adam. He grunted and pulled out of him and, like Jimmy, wiped the cum and traces of blood on the bedsheet. Then, he turned and as he adjusted his clothes said, "Ok, ok. I'm ready. Let's go."

The three men from Richmond took the money and valuables that they had found in the room and headed out the door. On the bed, Adam and Kwame softly cried tears of pain and shame as they buried their faces in the bedquilt. Greg just lay there in shock still unable to grasp what had happened. Tied up as they were, they could do little except wait to be rescued.

***

Back at the slave cabin, Seth, Luke, and Billy slowly came to the realization that, with everything that was happening, anyone who could tell them what to do was nowhere in sight and unlikely to turn up any time soon. Thoughts of freedom began to cross their minds. Luke was the first one to say anything when he informed them, "When we left Williamsburg, old Amos the washer man gave me an old printed page from the 'Golden Age.' He called it a 'map' and said that it showed the whole Chesapeake area. He showed me this thing that he called a map and marked on it what he said was the road that we were going to take to Washington. He said that maps were something that were used a lot in the Golden Age before the plague. According to Amos, this one was called a 'highway map'. It was something that was once very common, or so he said. He told me to take it with me in case I had the need or the opportunity to use it along the way."

"What did he mean 'to use it'? Did he expect you to try to run away while we were on the road to Washington?" replied a surprised and somewhat confused Seth.

Billy spoke up before Luke could answer saying, "Where I lived up on the Choptank, we had market days when we sold things that we salvaged from the ruins. One time a man was there who had what he said was a 'map'. Only it showed what he said was 'Maryland' which he claimed was an old name for where we lived. It sure looked a lot like what you have here." Even though he could not read, the boy stood there looking carefully at the old highway map of eastern Virginia that had once been part of a Rand-McNally road atlas and used his finger to trace the line on the map that Luke had said was their way from Williamsburg to Washington.

Luke looked from Seth to Billy and asked, "Haven't you ever thought what it would be like not to have anyone telling you what to do all the time? Telling you who you should suck and who should stick it up your butt while you were supposed to smile no matter how much it hurt? Well, have you?"

Seth and Bill looked at one another. There was a long pause before Seth said, "How could we get away and not get caught? You know what they do to runaway slaves if they catch them."

"Old Amos marked a place on the map where he said whites had survived the plague and where no one is a slave. I want to head for it. It's not that far west of here," explained Luke.

"How would we get there? We couldn't walk. We'd be caught for sure," questioned Seth.

"When I looked out, I saw three horses tied up to the railing out front in the barnyard. Whoever set those fires must have left their horses there up while they did it. Each one has a saddle bag that's bulging. If we take a look, I'll bet that we'll find they have food in them. After all, anyone who's going to raid this place is not going to stick around to get caught and would need provisions while running away from here, and from this town. Billy, slip out there and make sure that I'm right. Even if you're spotted, being a kid, those raiders will be too occupied to bother with you."

Five minutes later Billy was back in the cabin. He just stood there and nodded his head while grinning from ear to ear. Luke and Seth smiled back, the saddle bags did indeed hold food for the trail.

This only confirmed that this was their chance to escape their lives as slaves. Upon opening the door to their cabin, it was apparent from the noise and sounds that whatever was taking place was centered in the big house. Hurriedly, they helped themselves to the three horses. They would be miles away before they were missed. While they were in strange territory, they knew enough to follow the stars of the 'Drinking Gourd' as they called the Big Dipper, and go west away from the clutches of the Dukes of Norfolk and of Washington. No matter what their lives had been up until now, they were about to change forever.

Chapter 9
Warrenton & Fredericksburg: After the Raid

With Seth and Luke's knowledge of horses, the three boys from Williamsburg made good progress following the route that had once been highway 17 as they fled northwesterly from the Fredericksburg area. While the road was no longer maintained, its route was still clear and their mounts easily carried them around the washouts and any other obstructions that they encountered along the road itself.

On the third day, the fugitives felt that they were far enough away from Fredericksburg that they could make camp for the night and get some badly needed rest. It had rained hard during the afternoon. At twilight it was still coming down in a light drizzle that was just strong enough to keep the three of them thoroughly soaked. When they spotted what appeared to be the remains of a long-abandoned farm house, they decided to get in out of the elements and bed down for the night.

The old house looked like it would be ideal. It was a one-story brick structure, half of its roof was still in place after all of these years. Most likely, as with many structures, it had been abandoned at the time of the great plague. Inside, the main room was still intact, although old graffiti covered some of its walls indicating that on at least one other occasion it had sheltered other travelers. There was a large fireplace that even after 200 years still looked functional although it was covered in dust and dirt. Fortunately, the roof appeared to be still solid over this room, although the same could not be said for most of the other rooms in the old place.

Billy took it upon himself to scurry around and find enough dry kindling in the house with which to make a fire. Soon they had a small but effective blaze going by which they could warm themselves and start to dry out.

Seth and Luke led the horses around to the back of the house and tied them up on what had once been a concrete-floored porch. Most of its roof was also intact. No need to leave the animals out in the rain or to leave them where they might be seen. After all, it was better that any passersby think that the place was truly abandoned.

Although they were now some forty miles from Fredericksburg, fear of discovery had not left them. Even though the storm that had earlier brought heavy rain to the area was ending, every sound seemed ominous. Old growth trees and a wild unkempt privet hedge that pressed close to the house all but hid the place from the trail that was now all that remained of the old highway. In the minds of the runaways, only someone who knew the area well would look twice at an old abandoned house set well back from the road nor in it for anyone or anything.

***

As it was, they were wrong. Early the next morning they were roughly awakened by a party of armed men. Exhausted as they had been from their long ride, all three of the fugitives had fallen asleep without setting a watch the night before.

While their leader assessed the situation, a four-man patrol surrounded the runaways pointing their sabers at them. It was obvious that the man was not happy discovering these strangers in his patrol area.

"Who are you and what are you doing here?" demanded the leader of the patrol.

Before they could answer, they were surprised and somewhat shocked to realize that all four men were white. Each wore a blue cambrai shirt and navy-blue pants that constituted an informal uniform of some sort. Flat brimmed felt hats of the sort that had once been called "plantation hats" completed their outfits.

Seth looked from one to another of the men who were holding their sabers on him and his friends. He thought for a moment and then swallowed hard before deciding that, under the circumstances, telling the truth was most likely the best thing to do.

"We fled Chatham Manor when it was attacked by a large band of men. There seemed to be a big raid going on there in the Fredericksburg area and we didn't want to be killed or taken prisoner by some gang of terrorists," answered Seth truthfully.

"A raid on Chatham Manor, you say," replied the leader of the patrol. "That's the seat of Lord Chatham, the Duke of Washington's man in Fredericksburg. Who would be that stupid? All that's going to do is cause a detachment of the Duke's army to be sent out to capture and punish those who would dare to do that. Are you sure of what you speak?"

"Yes, we fled when we realized that some of Lord Chatham's men already lay dead in the barnyard and that the barn itself was burning. It was when the guard house exploded that we had our chance to escape. The raiding party was busy in the big house. They had some kind of explosives that they had stuffed into small balls and then threw them so that they would explode when they hit the ground. We're not trained in arms and thought that our best course of action was to get out of there and get out fast since we did not know if the raiders would take us prisoner or kill us," explained Seth.

Looking from one to another of the patrol, Seth hesitated and then added, "Who are you? How is it that your patrol is made up only of white men? Where we are from there are few whites who live there among us."

The four men laughed at this. Then, as the laughter faded, the leader of the patrol said, "We're a patrol from Warrenton. It lies just a few miles on up the road from here. You're in territory that is loyal to Lord Winchester. Unlike the Duke of Washington and Lord Chatham, he's our elected leader."

"As for being white, when the great plague struck, we had a few people who turned out to be immune to it and a medical man who was smart enough to make a vaccine from their blood. As a result, our area is still mainly white, just as it was before the plague struck. What is not well known these days is the fact that the percentage of the population who were white at the time of the plague varied widely from place to place. Without the vaccine, people of African ancestry were more likely to recover from the plague. After the plague ended, those places that had a higher percentage of African-Americans ended up having more people than those that didn't since most of the whites had died. We were just fortunate that we had a vaccine that saved both black and white in our county. We still have blacks in our area, just not as many as where you have been living. However, it makes no difference. Everyone is equal among our citizens.

Additionally, we have good relations with Washington. As a result, their Duke leaves us alone and we leave him and his people alone. In that way, we stay at peace with one another."

"We don't want to go back to Fredericksburg. Can we stay here?" asked Luke in a low voice.

"That would be up to Lord Winchester. We don't normally turn away anyone who wants to become part of our community, but we also don't want to be a haven for criminals who just want to escape justice. We will need to take you before his court in his capitol city for that to be determined."

***

Later that day Luke, Seth, and Billy found themselves in the jail in the court house at Warrenton. They had no choice but to await a decision on whether or not they would be sent to Lord Winchester for a hearing to determine if they could stay in his territory. That meant that the County Judge of what was still called Fauquier County would first hear their case to determine if they should be sent on to the court in the city of Winchester. Unfortunately, the judge was out of town and would not be back until the next day. In the meantime, all the three boys from Williamsburg could do was wait.

Before what in these parts was called "The Great Plague," the town of Warrenton had once boasted almost ten thousand people. Unfortunately, the vaccine that had been developed in Winchester had not reached them in time to save the majority of the county's white population. These days, two hundred years after the greater part of the county's population had died in that plague, less than two thousand people comprised the total population of the town and its immediate area. Except for those who farmed the land, they were for the most part concentrated in the buildings and homes that surrounded the town square. It was in the center of this square that the court house was located. Over the years, most of the rest of the town's abandoned buildings had been scavenged for anything of use so that only ruins marked the outer reaches of what had once been a prosperous small town with a historic past.

The patrol that the runaways in the jail cell had encountered were members of the sheriff's posse. Their job was to patrol the rural areas of the county to ensure that the peace was kept and that it remained safe for people to go about their daily business.

The man who headed the patrol that had apprehended them was John Locke, the deputy sheriff of Fauquier County. At 49 years of age, he stood six feet tall [1.80 m] and weighed a good, if somewhat heavy, 200 lbs [91 kg]. His face had that reddish-brown cast from having spent most of his life either in the fields of his farm which lay just outside of town or on horseback patrolling for the sheriff. His dark brown hair was cut short but he had a full beard. Both his hair and his beard were just beginning to turn gray. Beside the rather obvious beginnings of a gut, it was easy to see that he still had a strong, well-muscled body; particularly his arms. He looked to the three runaway slaves like a man who you did not cross without there being consequences.

John stopped outside their cell and looked at each of them in turn. Then, he cleared his throat and said in a clear calm voice, "The judge will not be back until tomorrow. Until then, you will be held here at the court house. Don't worry, we treat our prisoners fairly. A meal will be coming over from the inn on the other side of the square in a few minutes. The judge is a fair man. Make the best of your hearing with him when you come before him tomorrow. It's up to him whether or not to send you on to Winchester for an immigration decision. I'm going to leave you with Red here. He'll be with you during the night and make sure that you get your supper.

The young man to whom he pointed stood at the back of the room looking intently at the prisoners. A tall thin young white man with auburn hair, he stood about 5' 10" tall [1.80 m] and weighed at the most 150 lbs. [68 kg]. His gaze lingered on Billy as though some momentary evil thought had crossed his mind. Only Seth noticed when Red revealed himself in this way and wondered what he was thinking.

***

Bored as they were in the cell, Seth, Luke, and Billy at least felt safe. After their evening meal, they stretched out on the thin mattresses of the bunks where they were being held and soon were fast asleep.

Red waited until he was sure that the three of them were asleep before making his move. Quietly, he inserted the key into the lock of the jail cell. There was only the slightest of clicks as he unlocked the cell door. He entered and stood beside Billy's bunk for a moment before reaching down and covering the boy's mouth with one hand. When the startled boy awoke, he put the index finger of his other hand to his lips signaling him to remain quiet. Then, he whispered for the boy to follow him.

The young jailor took Billy through a door and down a hall to the point where a door opened off to the left. Red turned a key and opened the door to the room and motioned for the boy to enter. Reluctantly, he did so and found himself in what appeared to be a small room with a bed that was most likely used by the duty jailor on the night shift. Other than the single bed and a small desk and straight chair there was no other furniture in the small room. A little oil lamp on the desk was the room's only illumination.

Pulling out the chair from the desk, Red commanded, "Sit."

Billy sat down in the chair while Red stood a few inches away from him. While the young man stood there looking down at him, he said, "I knew that it had to be you. I'm sure that you don't remember me but I saw you at the Blue Boy at Williamsburg one night not long ago when I was there with my brother. We were in that town to sell some furs from animals that we had trapped along the Rappahannock. I didn't have enough money for more than one drink that night, but I sure would have liked to have had sex with a boy just once to say that I'd done it."

Now it made sense to Billy; the reason that the jailor had taken him out of his cell was so that he could have sex with him. Better to satisfy Red than to make an enemy of him, was the thought that quickly crossed his mind. He cleared his throat and said, "Take off your clothes and we'll see if we can remedy that."

Red smiled at Billy with an expression that said he knew that they understood each other. Then, he sat down on the bed and took off his boots. Next, he unbuttoned his shirt and slipped it off. His pants quickly followed and he stood there, naked, in the light of the oil lamp. He had little body hair on his freckled body but he did have, what in the dim light appeared to be, good hard pecs and firm abs. Billy could see that his nipples stood out like hard little knobs against his chest. A distinct treasure trail ran from his navel down to what appeared to be closely trimmed auburn pubes. Below that, his several-inches of boy meat were beginning to swell.

Red stood there for a moment so that Billy could get a good look at him. Then, he sat down on the bed and lay back as his penis rose to its full erect height.

Reluctantly, Billy stretched out over the edge of the bed and took Red's rock-hard dick in his hand. He lowered his head over the glans and took it in his mouth, slowly milking its hardness with his lips, consuming the precum that drooled from the sperm slit.

"Put it in your mouth all the way, kid, deep as you can.� Been wanting a good professional blow job ever since I was at the Blue Boy that time back in Williamsburg," instructed the young jailor as he ran his hand through the boy's tousled hair.

Billy continued his expert oral attention to Red's hard throbbing tool.� The room was quiet except for Red's deep breathing and low moaning.� Hard core man-to-man dick-sucking bliss continued for a few minutes until the young jailor said in a soft voice, "Can't hold back, I'm gonna cum."

Billy pressed his lips even closer to Red's body while he sucked and licked at the hard piece of man-meat. He pulled away just as Red gasped and arched his back as he climaxed with gobs of gray-white cum shooting into the night air.

After his breathing slowed somewhat, the young jailor pushed himself up on his elbows and looked up. He was confused as well as surprised when he realized that both Luke and Seth were standing in the doorway of the small room looking back at him. Luke looked down at him lying there on the bed, naked, with his still-hard cock pointing skyward. Then he said, "Guess what, Red, you forgot to lock the door to our cell when you came and got Billy."

Before what was happening could fully soak in, the two older teens had rushed Red and pinned him to the bed of the small room. Seth held his legs down on the bed while Luke straddled the struggling youth, gagging him with a piece of cloth that he had pulled from his pocket. In a matter of seconds, the two of them had the young jailor securely tied to the bed frame by his wrists. Slowly, but firmly, they forced his legs up and back so that they could tie his ankles to his wrists. This left him on the bed on his back with his boy hole an inviting target.

Luke licked his index finger and then ran it up and down Red's crack as the youth squirmed and struggled against his bonds. They could hear him squeal into his gag as the young wrestler shoved the finger into his hole. Luke looked at Billy and said, "Don't you think that you ought to give Red here a little of his own medicine. I'm sure that you didn't volunteer to suck him off. How about taking a little pleasure of your own with him?"

Billy walked the few steps around to the end of the bed and dropped his pants to the floor. With one hand he stroked his hardening penis as he looked Red in the eyes. He could see fear in the young jailor's face as he lay there not sure of what was happening. Then, Billy shifted his gaze to the auburn-haired boy's hole. He stood there a moment unbuttoning his shirt. Slowly, he took it off while never taking his eyes off Red as he struggled on the bed before him like a lamb about to be slaughtered.

For the first time since leaving the Choptank, Billy felt like he was in charge. He leaned forward on his elbows and positioned his now rock-hard penis against Red's hole. Unknown to the three from Williamsburg, Red was a virgin when it came to anal sex. To no avail, he screamed into his gag.

Taking his time, Billy pushed his hard piece of boy meat into the opening that was the young jailor's hole. Suddenly, Red went limp on the bed. He had fainted.

***

It must have been almost 7am when Red woke up the next morning. He was fully dressed and lying on the bed in the small room that only hours before had witnessed both his sexual satisfaction and his sexual humiliation. He jumped up and stood beside the bed shaking his head as he tried to clear his mind. 'Did I really have sex with that boy? Did he actually rape me?' were the thoughts that ran through his head as he stood there. Then it dawned on him: 'Holy crap, have I let the prisoners escape while I was on duty last night just because I wanted some free sex?'

Running down the hall to where the cells were, he was both surprised as well as relieved to find that the three of them were still in their cell. Luke was awake and sitting up on his bunk while the other two were still asleep.

Playing innocent, Luke said, "What time should we expect breakfast? I could sure go for some chow right about now."

Just then, there was the sound of a door opening down the hall. A voice called out, "Hey Red, you up? Have the prisoners been fed yet?" Then the door opened and John Locke strode into the room with a smile on his face.

'Is the door to the cell locked?' flashed through Red's mind as panic seized him. Just then, Luke winked at him as he said, loud enough for Locke to hear, "No breakfast for us just yet. However, Red's been taking good care of us and it must be coming soon. I just hope that your judge is willing to see us today. This looks like a nice town. I'd be willing to bet that Winchester is too."

The older man looked at him through the bars of the cell and smiled a friendly smile as he replied, "We'd like to think that we have a nice town here with some good people. Don't worry, Judge Howe is a fair man. He'll give you an impartial hearing. Assuming that he sends you on to Winchester, you'll get one there too."

Luke smile back and thought to himself, 'I sure hope so.'

***

While the three escaped slaves waited for their hearing in Warrenton, Lord Chatham was pacing up and down in his office back in Fredericksburg. Outside, the sound of men cleaning up what was left of the destroyed barn and guard house could be heard.

It had taken a full day to restore order at Chatham Manor. The raid by the outlaws from Richmond had not only caught everybody off guard, it was also completely unprecedented. In fact, all raids had ceased more than fifty years ago. Lord Chatham could only count his losses and increase his defenses as best that he could while he sent word of what had happened to the Duke of Washington along with a request for reinforcements. After all, it would be folly to go after the raiders with only the small force that he had available.

Until he knew what he was up against, there was no point in pursuing the raiders lest they turn on the men from Fredericksburg and add them to the list of those who were already dead. The rapes of Adam Ruddell and his slave, Brutus, were bad enough. However, he also counted five of his own men dead along with three wounded plus several missing slaves that belonged to the Duke of Norfolk. Then, there was the stolen gold and silver that the raiders had taken. The Duke was going to be mad as Hell when he learned what had happened. Lord Chatham knew that he would be lucky if he escaped losing his position as the Duke's man in Fredericksburg. The fact that nothing like this had ever happened before was the only thing that just might save him. When they raped the Duke's own envoy, the raiders had upped the odds that men from the Duke's army would be dispatched to help him punish those responsible.

Just thinking about all that had happened made his head ache. Turning to the crystal decanter on one end of his desk, he thought to himself, 'A glass of something strong would help right about now.' He poured himself a double shot of the amber liquid that it contained and took a drink of it. As he sat there slowly sipping it, he said aloud in a soft voice, "I hope to God that I can weather this mess."

***

Cleavon was in almost as much of a panic as Lord Chatham. Luke, Seth, and Billy had disappeared the night of the raid and were nowhere to be found. Had they been taken prisoner by the raiders? After all, good, sturdy boys like Luke and Seth would bring top dollar in any slave market in the Tidewater and Billy could be easily sold as well. What would his Duke (or Nkomo for that matter) think or do if they were not found? Cleavon shuddered at the thought. At least they were not missing nor lost due to anything that he had done or not done. After all, it was not every day that terrorists raided the estate of a duke's representative, raping and pillaging as they went.

***

It had taken awhile, but Adam Ruddell, as well as Brutus, had outwardly recovered from being raped by the terrorist raiders from Richmond. The young envoy had sworn Brutus, as well as Greg, Lord Chatham's son, to secrecy regarding what had happened that night in their room. Only Lord Chatham among those who were at the estate had been told the truth about those events. As far as the rest of the residents of Chatham Manor knew, they had only been robbed by the raiding party and left tied up in their room.

Poor Greg had suffered more in some ways than Adam and Brutus having been left in shock by the events of that night. Fortunately, once the raiders had ridden off, Lord Chatham had a man on the estate who was able to administer first aid and bring him around.

Now, three days later, Adam and Greg lay naked on the bed in Greg's room as an equally naked Brutus rubbed the two of them with a fragrant oil as part of a light massage. All three knew without any doubt that this would turn into what in years past would have been called a "happy ending massage." The unanswered question was, Was that what they really wanted?

Adam cleared his throat and reached out his hand and took Brutus by the arm effectively stopping what he was doing. "Put down that oil and get in bed with us. It's time that we faced what happened to us during the raid and moved on with our lives. This includes you." Then he pulled away from Greg and patted the bed between them indicating that the boy should get between them on the big bed.

Brutus climbed in between the two of them and rolled over on his back so that the three of them made a loose threesome on the bed. Adam put one arm around the boy and pulled him close to him. With his other arm, he reached out and pulled Greg in closer to them. The result was the three of them becoming entwined in a tight embrace with their bodies pressed up against each other. Adam could feel Brutus's heart beating next to his own chest. His hands shook slightly and his body shuddered as he embraced the two of them. His thoughts turned to what had happened the night that they were raped by the raiders from Richmond. Somehow, he knew that in their minds they were all reliving what had happened that night. He could see tears in the boy's eyes as lay there between Greg and himself. Then, Greg buried his own face in the boy's shoulder and his tears turned to sobs. Adam suddenly realized that he, too, was crying.

Several minutes passed before Adam spoke again, saying, "We've got to get over what happened the other night. It won't do us any good to dwell on it. Brutus and I were raped by the terrorists that raided the estate. It was a shock to all three of us. I feel certain that between the forces that the Duke will send and those that are already at the command of Lord Chatham they will ultimately pay for what they did. Letting what happened permanently wreck our lives would just be another victory for those bastards

The three of them lay there tightly holding onto each other as they slowly shook, with tears running down their faces. At that moment, letting it out was what they all needed. Releasing the pent-up emotions stemming from the rapes was the therapy that would enable them to move on and allow them to recapture their lives.

Slowly the tears stopped and the closeness of their bodies began to have a more normal effect on them. Flaccid penises began to get hard as they now began to rub against each other's nakedness.

Brutus, being the slave that he was, took the hardening cocks of both men in his hands and began to run them up and down, rubbing the developing erections as he went.

"Slower, Brutus. Not so fast," whispered Adam as his eyes began to glaze over. Greg just lay there moaning softly under his breath.

"Master, should I suck your cock for lubrication?" asked the boy.

Adam could see that Brutus was regaining his old confidence and replied, "No, you're doing fine. Just squeeze it for now, but not too hard." Then, turning to his friend, added, "Is that alright with you, Greg?" The nod and a grunt from Lord Chatham's son were coupled with a thumbs up that signaled his approval as he lay there entranced

"Like this?" questioned the boy as he continued to slide his clenched fingers around both men's penises stimulating them as he went.

"Yes, perfect. Feels nice. You have magic hands," said Adam. There was a pause and then he added, "I'm going to cum." Then, several spurts of gray-white liquid shot from his penis. A second later, Greg spoke for the first-time exclaiming, "I'm cumming too."

Adam pushed Brutus down on the bed between them. As the boy lay there, as if on signal, the two men began to run their hands up and down his body stimulating every nerve ending as they went. Restoring his slave's confidence was something that Adam needed to know had been achieved. He took the boy's hard cock in his hand and licked the tip of it and then circled the glans with his tongue. Brutus gasped and lay there as ecstasy rolled over him. No one had sucked his cock since he had become a slave.

This was something that Adam had never done before. It wasn't that he didn't like sucking cock, it was just something that he normally thought was not the sort of thing that a master did with a slave. However, things were different at the moment. What seemed like only seconds later, the boy shot his own cum into the air.

Then, quite suddenly, he began to laugh. Softly at first, but slowly gaining in volume and intensity as though he were working toward a second climax. Both men suddenly realized that they too were laughing. They were going to beat it. The thing that had happened to them was not going to rule their lives. The memories would always be with them, but they had beaten them back into the corners of their minds. Life would go on and not be crushed nor changed by what had happened to them that night.

***

Later that day, Lord Chatham sent word that he would like to see Cleavon. Nkomo's man wasted no time in hurrying to the office of the one who was after all the man who ruled Fredericksburg in the name of the Duke of Washington. As he stood at the office door, he ran his comb through his hair for the third time before knocking on the big panel of solid oak that made up the core of his lordship's office door. There was only a brief silence and then from within he heard, "Come."

When he entered the office, Lord Chatham was seated at his desk still sipping his drink. Cleavon give his lordship a slight bow as he stood across the desk from him, waiting to learn what came next. There was a brief silence as Lord Chatham looked the man from Williamsburg up and down. Then he motioned to a chair and said, "Please have a seat."

Still nervous and uncomfortable, Cleavon squirmed in his chair hoping that his lordship would not notice. Lord Chatham looked at him and cleared his throat before saying, "I find the boy, Kwame, to be of particular interest to me. He does a good job satisfying my, shall we say, 'needs.' I would like to buy him from your master. Do you think that could be arranged?"

'So that's what this is all about,' thought Cleavon to himself. Relaxing slightly, he in turn cleared his own throat before responding with, "If it please your lordship, it might be arranged. However, the boy is not the property of my master, only on loan to him to fulfill a debt owed to him by a smithy who is located there in Williamsburg. It would be necessary to send word to Williamsburg to confirm that he could be sold to you and what the asking price would be."

"I understand and expected that it would be necessary to communicate with Williamsburg regarding such a sale. You may not be aware of it but I can communicate with both Washington and Williamsburg using carrier pigeons. I will send one asking to buy the boy. Do you see anything that might be wrong with that?

"No, my lord. I'm sure that would speed things up and you would have an answer in short order," replied Cleavon.

"Thank you for confirming my understanding of the situation. That will be all. I'll let you know when I hear back from Williamsburg," answered Lord Chatham as he smiled politely and waved the younger man toward the door of his office.

***

Seth held the reins of his horse loosely as the thirsty animal drank from the little stream that crossed the road by way of a culvert that went under the road. Luke, Billy, and he were at last on their way from Warrenton to Winchester for their final hearing before Lord Winchester. Thinking back to the events of the previous day, he breathed a sigh of relief at how well things had gone for them as he relived them in his mind. Markham Howe, the Judge of Fauquier County, had been more than fair. It had been clear from the start that he had no love for slavery and that, unless they were criminals, Lord Winchester would soon be welcoming them to his territory as permanent residents.

The only irony was that Red, the deputy and night jailor had been sent as their escort from Warrenton to Winchester. As it was, the auburn-haired young man was quite aware that there was no way that he could say anything about the sex that he had had in the jail without the three 'prisoners' describing in detail the room where it had taken place. Since there would have been no reason for any of them to have been in that room, describing it correctly to the sheriff or the judge would have confirmed their story that they had been there with Red.

For his part, Red remained sullen and distant from the three fugitives from Williamsburg. No one could say that he was not doing his duty, but that was all. Within him, he still resented what he felt was his being used by them for their own sexual gratification. The fact that he had put Billy into a position where he had no choice but to suck his dick seemed to have gotten lost from his memory. To him, he was the victim, not the one who had initiated things in the first place.

***

As Adam Ruddell, Greg, and Brutus were finishing what could only be called finding themselves, there came loud noises from the road that led to Chatham Manor. The sounds of an approaching band of men could be heard. Then, as if on cue, a bugle sounded to let the manor staff know that the men coming up the road were friendly.

Outraged when he had learned of the raid on Chatham Manor, the Duke of Washington had immediately dispatched to Fredericksburg a force composed of forty of his best men to strengthen the garrison that was based there. Their orders included rooting out those who had challenged his authority in what in the twenty-second century was known as "the Rappahannock Province." However, the Duke was not one to recklessly order an attack on an enemy without knowing what he was up against. The orders to his military commander included the provision to scout out what the enemy strength was before taking action.

Colonel Henry Christopher was a career soldier in the service of the Duke of Washington. A man of 50, he stood six feet two [1.90 m] and weighed an easy two hundred pounds [91 kg]. He was one of those big, well-muscled black men whose dark skin would have made anyone assume that he was of pure African descent. He prided himself on keeping fit and carried himself so that he radiated what among military men is known as "command presence." If you had met him, you would have instantly known that this was not someone with whom you could fool around or take lightly without there being consequences. If you were military yourself, you knew that this was the sort of man that you would follow into battle no questions asked.

The colonel rode erect at the head of his men with his second in command, Captain Pierce, and the guidon-bearer. The forty men under his command followed on horseback, two abreast, with a supply wagon at the rear of the column. By any standard, the mounted troop was impressive as it rode up the lane and onto the grounds of Chatham Manor.

Lord Chatham, as well as just about everyone else on the estate, gathered at the front of the big house to greet the arrival of the reinforcements. Col. Christopher gave the command to halt and dismount. Walking purposefully up to the steps where Lord Chatham stood, he stopped and snapped to attention and saluted. "Sir, Col. Henry Christopher and a detachment of the First Washington Cavalry reporting for duty as ordered."

His lordship returned the salute and said, "We've been expecting you. Welcome to Fredericksburg. My steward will see to billeting your men. I regret that the terrorists destroyed our barn and our guardhouse, but we will make do with what we have. Please come into the house, I need to brief you on the situation."

Actually, Lord Chatham in reality knew very little about the raiders except that they were from Richmond and struck without warning, looting and raping as they went. Once they had looted the gold and silver that was in the big house, they had fled toward the south leaving five of his men dead and three injured. In confidence, he shared what had happened to Adam and his slave, Brutus and the fact that his own son, Greg, had been left in shock by the rapes.

As Col. Christopher sat there listening to his lordship brief him on the attack, he circled the top of his glass with his finger as he stared into space. When his lordship had finished, he looked up and said in a cold, hard voice, "We'll get the bastards who did this. The Duke of Washington is not going to let a group of undisciplined terrorists flaunt his authority let alone rape his envoy as well as assault someone in your position and steal gold and silver from his treasury."

"I knew that I could count on the Duke for help in solving this problem. I'm glad that he sent someone with your qualifications, colonel," replied Lord Chatham.

"The Duke has placed me in command of all military forces along the Rappahannock. Your men will be reporting to me for the duration. Do you have any problem with that?" replied the colonel speaking in a matter of fact tone of voice.

"No, whatever it takes to defeat the terrorists. You have my full support," replied Lord Chatham.

The two men stood up and shook hands. The colonel gave a slight bow and added, "Please excuse me. I need to see to my men. If you would have the head of your forces report to me, we will work out what we do from here."

As Colonel Christopher left the big house, he thought to himself, "Poor bastard, he'll be lucky if the Duke doesn't have his head on a platter before this is all over."

Lord Chatham sat back down at his desk and poured himself another drink. As he sipped the amber liquid, he thought to himself. "This guy's an iron prick. I just hope that he's as tough as he looks. If he can defeat those terrorists, I just may have a chance of weathering this mess."

Then he had an idea, he rang a small hand bell on his desk. A servant appeared and bowed to his lordship. "Send me that boy, Kwame. I have need of him."

***

Ten minutes later in his room, Lord Chatham lay across the side of the bed naked as an equally naked Kwame bent over him.

"Yes… that's it, Kwame… let me feel you suck it with everything that you've got… ahhh, yes!" Lord Chatham's hands were pressing against the back of the boy's head, keeping him from backing off of the man's thick 5-inch [12.5 cm] long, rock-hard light brown penis.

While he worked to satisfy his lordship with his mouth, Kwame was using his hand on his own hard four inches [10 cm] of boy meat.

Lord Chatham smiled as he watched the boy doing his best to cum before him so as to give the older man even more stimulation than the boy's eager mouth could provide. Although he had only been used as a sex object for a short time, Kwame already knew that men were often stimulated by the sight of someone else having sex. It had not taken him long to learn that pleasing a master, or a client, was what counted and ensured you good treatment either as an apprentice or as a brothel boy.

Kwame's efforts didn't take long to produce results. Pulling away from Lord Chatham's cock for a moment, the boy cried out in a loud voice, "Master, I'm going to cum!"

"Don't stop sucking! Just let me see you cum," instructed the man. The boy responded by going back to sucking hungrily at his lordship's penis. Moments later, several big spurts of pearly-white fluid shot from the boy's own hard penis followed by a few lesser ones. It was only seconds later that Lord Chatham himself came to a climax of his own.

As talented as he was, Kwame could not swallow all of the older man's cum. There was just too much of it and it came too fast for him to get all of it down his throat. The result was that some of it dribbled out of his mouth, down his chin, and onto his chest. Using a rag that had been left on the floor beside the bed for just such a need, he wiped up the excess cum and then smiled at Lord Chatham. The older man smiled back at him. It had been good for both of them.

Both Lord Chatham and Kwame were sweat-covered and panting from their exertions. The older man pulled the boy up close to him. He stroked the boy's hair with one hand while with his other he held him close to his body. The two of them just lay there for a couple of minutes as their bodies came down from the exertions of their mutual sexual highs.

Kwame thought to himself how wonderful it would be if he could remain here with this man. Lord Chatham himself was thinking of how soon could he own this boy. It's funny how some relationships, however strange, just seem to work.

***

It was like the calm before the storm. Seth, Luke, and Billy were on the road to Winchester with Red. They were unaware that he harbored revenge for his supposed rape in Warrenton. Cleavon had no idea what had happened to the three of them, except that they were missing. Meanwhile, Adam, Brutus, and Greg had rejoined the living after enduring rape and shock. Lord Chatham was hiding his fear that he might lose his position due to the terrorist raid on his manor for which he was obviously unprepared. The solution seemed to lie with whether or not the terrorists from Richmond could be defeated. That left a lot riding on the abilities of Col. Christopher and his men. The only one who was truly happy at the moment was Kwame who had not been treated this good since he had become an apprentice.

There is a Chinese saying that fits this moment in time. It goes "May you live in interesting times." It's a considered to be a curse.

Chapter 10
On the Road: Different Kinds of Rape

The road from Warrenton to Winchester followed what had once been U.S. Highway 17. Now, two hundred years after the "Great Plague" and with no maintenance, it had deteriorated into little more than a trail. The remaining asphalt did little more than reveal that it had once been a good highway that had carried trucks and automobiles through the Virginia countryside. Seth and Luke's knowledge of horses, as well as that of Red, meant that the four of them made good progress toward their destination. However, going by horseback meant that they only made about ten to twelve miles a day depending on their horses and the condition of the road.

At sundown, they reached what had once been a roadside highway rest stop. In the years since, only crumbling brick walls remained of the visitor center. However, those walls, and a few badly worn concrete picnic tables, did more to welcome the tired travelers than the prospect of camping under the trees or in the fields. Red told the boys that from his experience this would be the best place along the road to camp for the night.

Worn down from their journey, it wasn't long after a hurried meal of beans, jerky, and some home-made bread that they had brought with them, before they had all bedded down for the night. Leaving a small fire burning, it was not long before all four were fast asleep. Unfortunately, a good night's sleep was not to be.

Little more than an hour after they had fallen asleep, they were roughly awakened by a party of four armed men. While three of them were in their early twenties and not all that different from those on the ground, their leader appeared to be at least twice that age. His face was grizzled with the beginnings of a beard that was hardly more than the gray stubble from not having shaved for a week or more. His well-worn clothes were made from what had once been called "home-spun" fabric. A large low-crowned gray broad-brimmed felt hat partially obscured his face. About 5ft 9in tall [1.80 m] tall, with a definite gut, he still looked like he could hold his own in a fight. It was also obvious from the reddish-brown color of what could be seen of his face that he had spent much of his life working outdoors.

The four travelers from Warrenton remained lying on the ground as the leader slowly assessed the situation. After all, it was not every day that two well-built young black men, a good-looking white boy, and a young white man traveled together along this road. Since he and his men continued to point their sabers at them, there was no question as to who had the upper hand. However, it was also equally obvious that it was Red that drew the attention of the older man.

"By God, you're that son-of-a-bitch from Warrenton that raped poor Jimmy in the jail last fall. That's when he got drunk and caused a ruckus in a bar down there and ended up in lockup. I know for sure that he didn't deserve no rape," said the leader of the men accusingly as he pointed his sabre at Red.

"I don't know what you're talking about," sputtered the auburn-haired young man defiantly. "If it's any of your concern, I work for the sheriff down at Warrenton. I'm taking these three refugees from Fredericksburg to Lord Winchester to determine if they qualify to stay in his territory as freemen."

"I don't care what you're doing now," yelled the leader in a strong angry voice. "I just know that it was you that raped poor Jimmy in that damn jail. I was there in town that night and I saw you take him back to the jail myself. I also know what he said when he got home. And I know that he ain't been right in the head since that happened to him. You're the one that did it alright."

"The Hell you say, old man. I tell you that I don't know what you're talking about," hollered Red back at him, only with far less confidence than before.

Turning to the three younger men with him, the older man ordered, "You boys tie up these other three. We're gonna settle things with this red-haired pig. Jimmy didn't deserve no rape."

***

The gathering twilight found Seth, Luke, and Billy on the ground with their hands tied behind their backs. Each one was tied to a separate tree in such a way that they faced the campfire whose flames now blazed from the additional wood that their captors had added to it. Between where they were tied and the fire, Red was staked out naked on his back on the ground with his ankles tied to his wrists. This left his boy hole a beckoning target as the firelight shimmered off of his thin butt cheeks

The tall thin young white man with the auburn hair squirmed on the ground and strained at his restraints in undisguised panic, but to no avail. Only the rag that they had stuffed in his mouth kept him from screaming. If it had not been so obvious that Red was terrified, the scene would have been erotic. As it was, the boys from Fredericksburg almost pitied him. When at knife point Jimmy's friends had stripped him, Red had pissed himself. He was right to be afraid of what they were going to do to him.

The grizzled old man slowly walked up to the immobile Red stretched out there naked on the ground. He stopped and just stood there looking down at him with nothing but undisguised disgust obvious on his weathered face. His gaze never left Red's face as he bent down on one knee so that he could reach out his hand and place it on the young man's chest. Slowly, he ran its rough surface down across his captive's smooth body. When he reached Red's pubic bush, he let some of the auburn hairs wrap around his fingers. Slowly and carefully, the older man jerked pulling the hairs out by the roots. Red screamed into his gag as he arched his body. His tormentor grinned as he took Red's balls in his big hand enveloping them with a strong grip. Slowly, he rolled them around like he was examining fruit in a marketplace. Red strained as he vainly tried to break free uncertain and afraid of what might happen next. Tears could be seen flowing from his eyes as he whimpered into his gag.

Having achieved the effect that he wanted, the grizzled man snorted and slowly squeezed Red's balls just like they were truly nothing but a bunch of grapes. To those watching, it was plain that the way that the old man did it, he was squeezing his young prisoner's balls just hard enough to inflict pain but not permanent damage. However, what pain there was and his lack of experience made Red think that the man was about to crush his balls and he screamed as loud as he could into his gag.

The old man took his other hand and grabbed a handful of Red's hair, forcing his prisoner to look him directly in the face. With an expressionless face, he said, "This is nothing compared to what you're gonna feel when we cut your balls off!"

"But, let's have some fun first," said the man, as he stood up and slowly untied the length of rope that held up his pants. His stiff six inch [15 cm] erect penis protruded from a forest of gray pubic hair as he let his well-worn pants drop to the ground. Stepping out of the pants, he positioned himself so that Red would miss nothing. Then he slowly moved around the staked out young man like an animal circling its prey. When he stopped, he was standing in front of his captive's defenseless hole. With a snort, the older man lowered himself to the ground so that he was on both knees just inches from his quarry. With both hands, he parted the rounded mounds of Red's quivering butt cheeks. Extending one finger, he held it up so that his captive could see it clearly. Slowly and deliberately, he inserted it into the young man's anus. Until that night, Red's ass had been virgin territory. He screamed again, more from surprise and shock than from pain.

The older man withdrew the finger. He waited for a moment and then inserted two of his big fingers, probing his prisoner's butt as he did so. As they entered, Red screamed again, this time it truly was from pain. When the man was satisfied with his exploration, he withdrew his fingers and pressed his cock into the opening. With no regard for his captive, he pushed the full length of his six inch [15 cm] erect penis into the tight hole.

Red screamed again and again as he was raped by the older man's big cock. His captor's face remained cold and emotionless as he rocked back and forth, moving faster and faster as he approached climax. If he enjoyed having his way with Red, nothing about the look on his face revealed that. Finally, he grunted as he came in the young man's ass.

The older man pulled out of his bound captive and reached down to the scabbard on the belt of his pants. His hand found the stainless steel hunting knife with its six inch [15 cm] blade that was there and held it up for Red to see. His captive was blubbering to himself with drool running out from under one corner of his gag and dripping down onto his chest. When he saw that the older man had a knife in his hand, he squealed and urinated on the ground beneath himself. Avoiding the yellow puddle, the older man leaned forward with the knife in one hand as he grabbed Red's nut sack with the other hand. Red gave one last scream into his gag and fainted.

"Just as I figured. A gutless coward." Then, turning to the others watching, he added, "I don't believe in more than an eye for an eye. Now that this red-haired bastard's been raped, we've gotten justice for poor Jimmy. I just wish that my brother, his father, was still alive so that he could have been here to witness it and maybe screw this pissant himself."

Once again, the older man ran his rough hands over Red's limp body. Speaking to no one in particular, he was heard to say as he looked down on the inert form on the ground, "If I were greedy, I'd have these other three screw you as well as me and then maybe do it to you again myself before I left you staked out here for whoever might happen to come down the road."

Motioning to the young men with him, the older man ordered, "Release these other three. They got nothing to do with this. They can go on their way. We're leaving as soon as I hitch up my pants and you bring up the horses.

Turning toward Seth, Luke, and Billy, he spoke to them in a low flat emotionless voice. "You boys really headed up to Winchester like he said?"

"Yes sir, we are," replied Luke. "We'll take him with us and make sure that the authorities there know what he did and that he's already been punished by the family of his victim."

"You just do that," said the older man as he finished cinching up his pants. "You can also tell Lord Winchester that Moss Hardwick punished this man for raping his fifteen-year-old nephew. Will you do that?"

"Yes sir, we will," promised Luke.

As they finished talking, one of the younger men brought up the group's horses that had been tied up just out of sight in the nearby woods. Turning toward the nearest mount, the man now identified as "Hardwick" put his foot in the left stirrup and swung himself up onto the saddle with the familiar ease that only comes from long hours spent on horseback.

Looking down from his horse at the group from Fredericksburg, he added, "Sorry that you boys had to see what happened here. Still, you can't let someone like that redheaded bastard get away with rape. I feel sure that you understand that family honor had to be satisfied."

Seth, Luke, and Billy nodded in his direction and gave a short wave toward Hardwick. He, in turn, touched the brim of his hat with his free hand and turned his horse in the direction of the younger men who were already quitting the clearing.

***

Colonel Christopher looked down from his horse at the six dirty blood-spattered young men that they had taken prisoner after a brief skirmish alongside the trail of a road that ran from Fredericksburg to Richmond. The rebels' victory at Chatham Manor had been too easy and, instead of setting a proper watch and remaining vigilant for men loyal to the Duke of Washington, they had relaxed and fallen into consuming the strong alcoholic brew that they had seized in the raid. Somehow, they had also acquired a few female camp followers and a couple of boys who provided all of the sex that they needed to keep them busy as well as diverting them from any semblance of military duties.

By the time that the colonel's men had caught up with them, they were either still drinking or hung over. At any rate, it wasn't much of a fight that ended with eight of the raiding party from Richmond and their followers, dead on the ground and the six prisoners that now lay huddled on the ground in front of him along with the terrified camp followers.

By another stroke of good fortune, the gold and silver that the raiders had taken from Chatham Manor had been found still in a saddle bag that was among the things that had been recovered after the battle. That, if nothing else, would work in Lord Chatham's favor when it came to settling accounts with the Duke of Washington.

Turning to Captain Pierce, his second in command, the colonel ordered, "Make ready to lash these prisoners together and load them into the supply wagon. We'll take them back to Fredericksburg and make an example of them. No one flaunts the authority of the Duke and gets away with it. Prepare the men for the return journey. We'll leave as soon as you are ready."

"Yes sir. I'll see to it at once," replied the captain.

"Oh, captain, do we know if there are other rebels in the area or are these all there are?"

"Lord Chatham seemed to think that there were more men in the raiding party than what we have here, but he may have just been exaggerating," replied Pierce.

"That boy over there on the right looks like he might be related to the prisoner here on the ground in front of me. Bring him over here. Let's see if the two of them are related. We may be able to force some information out of the prisoner."

Captain Pierce motioned to the two men nearest him to help. Moments later they half drug, half carried the boy that the colonel had identified up to where their commander stood.

The kid was about 5 ft 6 in [1.70 m] tall and probably weighed about 140 lbs [65 kg]. He had a clear, light tan complexion with a face that under other circumstances would have been considered handsome. His somewhat curly brown hair, that was badly in need of a haircut, gave him a shaggy, unkempt look. It was obvious that at least one of his parents had been white. To the colonel, he looked fit as he strained against the two soldiers who held him.

"What's your name, boy?" demanded the colonel.

"F*** you, old man!" responded the boy defiantly, as he continued to squirm and twist trying to free himself from his captors.

"So, you want to be a hard-ass," replied the colonel. "Strip the little shit. We'll soon see just how tough he really is."

As the two continued to hold the boy, Captain Pierce stepped forward with a pocket knife in his hand. Unsure of what might happen next, even in the firelight the onlookers could see the kid's face pale. However, the captain only grabbed the boy by the homespun of his shirt and quickly slit the fabric so that he could more easily rip it up one side and pull the resulting rags from his body. Once the shirt was out of the way, Pierce cut the short length of rope that held up his pants and let them fall to his ankles. One of the men holding the boy reached down and pulled the pants off of the boy's ankles leaving him standing there in front of the colonel stark naked. Without being told, the two soldiers pulled down a big, thick low-growing branch from a tree and tied the boy's hands to it over his head. As the branch sprang upward, it left the kid barely standing on the ground.

Colonel Christopher had to admit to himself that the kid had a nice slim athletic body. He had the beginnings of well-developed arms and pecs with abs that were already fairly well-defined. A thin treasure trail ran down from his navel to an as yet sparse dark brown bush that crowned a three inch (8 cm) flaccid brown penis. Nice, plump balls that remained close to his body could be seen below that.

Turning to Captain Pierce, the colonel said in a low voice, "Now, bring up that light tan young man over there with the prisoners, who resembles this boy. Let's see what he will do to save this boy. I'm guessing that they must be brothers."

The junior officer soon had the young prisoner in front of the colonel. With the two of them side by side, it was obvious that they were related. As they stood there, two soldiers held each of them so that they could do little more than squirm. The older, still clothed prisoner just stood there and glared defiantly at the colonel while his naked brother looked sullenly at the ground.

Turning the naked boy's head so that he faced his brother, Colonel Christopher let his fingers trail down the back of the kid until he reached the crack of his ass. With his other hand, he pushed the boy's legs apart so that he could more easily take his balls in his hand. The kid winced and trembled as the colonel squeezed his immature testicles uncertain of what might come next.

Speaking to his young prisoner in a low, steady, emotionless voice the colonel asked, "Is this all of the party that raided Chatham Manor up in Fredericksburg?"

The sullen prisoner just glared at him and said nothing.

"You can make this easy or hard. Tell me what I want to know and nothing will happen to your brother. Don't talk or lie to me and I will let my men f*** him until he has to stuff a rag in his ass to keep from shitting himself."

The prisoner just stood there saying nothing.

"Have it your way." Then, turning to his second-in-command, he asked, "Captain Pierce, isn't Private Smith supposed to have the biggest cock in the troop? Have him come over here."

"Yes, sir. At once, sir." replied the captain.

A minute or so later, a big, burly, dark-black man hurried up to the colonel and saluted. Private Smith was about 6 ft 2 in [1.90 m] tall and weighed an easy 200 lbs [91 kg]. He was one of those heavily muscled black men who would have been a lineman on a football team, if there had still been a football team in this era. Just looking at him, you could tell that he was someone who could take care of himself in either a fight or a battle.

Returning the man's salute, the colonel said, "This prisoner refuses to talk. The naked boy is his brother. I understand that you have a reputation as having the biggest cock in the troop. How would you feel about helping me to get this prisoner to talk? Maybe a little man-on-boy sex with his brother would loosen his tongue."

Private Smith smiled and nervously shifted his feet from one to another as he replied saying, "Sir, it's true that I have that reputation. It's cuz I like to f***. Right now, I'm a three-day-virgin and would really like to do something about that. Nice ass on this kid. OK, if I loosen him up a little?"

"Be my guest," replied the colonel, gesturing toward the naked boy, who by now was looking more than a little scared about what might be about to happen to him.

Private Smith walked over to the boy and looked him up and down like he was sizing up a piece of meat in the marketplace. Unconcealed lust was obvious on his face. Then he grinned as he reached out one big hand and began to stroke the kid's dick while the other began fingering the boy's ass. Slowly, his index finger began to push inside. The kid gasped and tried vainly to escape but the ropes that bound him to the tree limb held fast.

Smith twisted his finger around the boy's hole probing his ass as he went deeper and deeper until his whole finger was buried inside the boy. Strangely, the kid's cock had gotten hard and was dripping precum as Smith explored his ass. Tears could be seen running down the boy's cheeks. There was no doubt in the minds of those watching that the boy was a virgin to anal sex up until this moment.

"OK, if I f*** the kid, Colonel?" asked Smith as he hesitated, waiting for a signal from his commanding officer.

Turning to the prisoner standing there helpless as his brother was about to be raped, Colonel Christopher said, "Tell me what I want to know, or the private is going to rape your brother."

The colonel could see the anguish on his captive's face. He blubbered incoherently and looked confused as he no doubt weighed in his mind telling his enemy what they wanted to know or holding out and letting his brother be raped.

"Private Smith, why don't you show this prisoner what you plan to bury in his brother if he doesn't talk? You wouldn't mind, would you?" asked the colonel in an emotionless voice.

Smith reached inside of his pants and pulled out his big black dick that was already dripping precum. It wasn't that it was all that long. It was probably just an average five inches [13 cm] or so in length. It was the fact that it was exceptionally thick. In fact, the man's penis appeared to be a good three inches [8 cm] in diameter. The prisoner did not need to be told that shoving that up his brother's ass would be very painful, especially for someone who had never taken a cock up their ass before.

"Alright then, Smith, let's see what you can do," replied Colonel Christopher.

"Yes sir, glad to oblige," relied Smith. With that, the big soldier grinned and moved around behind the boy. With both of his hands, he slowly parted the kid's butt cheeks exposing his virgin hole. Then, carefully and deliberately, he slowly shoved the head of his big exposed cock into the tight opening.

The kid screamed into his gag as the private began his anal assault.

The head of Smith's cock all but tore the boy's hole open as it entered. For a moment, the man remembered how it had been for him the first time when, as a boy, he had been overpowered and used for sex. In his mind, he could still recall the pain of being raped. It had felt like his butt was on fire and that he was about to be split open. Somehow, he knew that this was most likely what this kid was feeling at the moment. Then, lust took over and all he could feel was his own pleasure as he slid in and out of the defenseless boy, trussed up to the tree limb.

The colonel grabbed the young prisoner by the hair and pulled his head back. Looking directly into his face, he said, "Tell me what I want to know or I'll let every man in my troop do whatever they want with your brother."

The prisoner was gasping for air with tears running down his face. Colonel Christopher could see that he was struggling to keep from talking.

Just then, Private Smith gave the boy a particularly hard thrust and the kid could be heard screaming into his gag which barely contained his outcry. It was just that painful. A thin trickle of blood could be seen as it slowly made its way down the boy's leg.

The colonel held up his hand and the big man stopped raping the boy but did not withdraw his rock-hard penis from his ass.

Only inches from the distorted face of his young prisoner, the older man said, "You can make it stop. Just tell me what I want to know."

"Stop hurting Eddy! Yes, you have everybody who raided Chatham Manor. Your men killed our leader along with those other men on the ground over there. You have everybody. Just stop hurting Eddy," screamed the prisoner hysterically as tears continued to run down his face.

"Now was that so hard?" asked the colonel. With that he dropped his hand signaling to Private Smith. In response, the big black man thrust in and out of the boy one more time, shuddered, and came into the kid's young ass. With that, the kid fainted and went limp.

"You bastard!" screamed the colonel's young prisoner. "You said that you would stop hurting Eddy if I told you what you wanted to know."

"He did stop. He just finished first," replied the colonel coldly.

***

Lord Chatham stood on the steps of his manor house and surveyed the returning men of Colonel Christopher's command. Thank God they got the bastards, were the unspoken words that crossed his mind as the supply wagon stopped in front of where he stood.

Several of the soldiers hurried around to the back of the wagon and started roughly dragging the prisoners out. One by one they were forced to their knees on the ground before a truly pissed Lord Chatham, who stood there glaring at them as he slowly clenched and unclenched his fists.

The six dirty blood-spattered young prisoners had become seven with the addition of "Eddy" who the colonel had brought along just in case he needed to do some more "persuading" of his rebel brother.

Colonel Christopher rode up to the steps of the manor house, dismounted, and saluted Lord Chatham. "We have defeated the band of raiders, killing eight and returning with these seven as prisoners. However, even better is the fact that we have recovered the gold and silver that this scum took from your estate during their raid," reported the colonel.

"That is good news, colonel," replied the older man. "I only hope that you didn't lose any men in the process."

"No, sir, only a few minor injuries during the course of what was little more than rounding up a drunken rabble," replied the officer, as a faint trace of a smile momentarily crossed his weathered face.

"We need to make an example of the ones that you have captured. I want everyone around Fredericksburg to know better than to take up arms against the Duke of Washington's man and the authority that he represents," replied Lord Chatham.

"Of course, sir. What did you have in mind?" asked the officer.

"As soon as you've finished questioning the prisoners, we'll hang any surviving leaders of the raid in the court house square in Fredericksburg. Then, see that the rest are locked up in the jail there and we'll sell them at the next monthly slave action. Oh, first have my son take a look at the prisoners, if any of them are the ones that assaulted him and his friend, they can decide what to do with those.

"Certainly, sir. Just what I would have recommended," replied the colonel.

***

Adam Ruddell walked slowly down the line of prisoners, looking to see if he recognized any of them as the ones that had raped him and his slave, Brutus. All seven were on their knees on the ground with heads bowed so that they were looking at the ground. Dried spatters of blood, dirt, and sweat streaked their faces and tattered clothing. They're a sorry looking bunch, thought Adam, as looked at the prisoners.

Suddenly, he saw a familiar face. It was the raider that he had heard called LeRoy. It was the man who had raped him!

Adam swallowed hard and struggled to will himself not to react, as he stood there looking down at the man who had forced himself on him. Only a slight trembling in his left hand and his firmly set jaw gave any indication that things were anything but normal as he turned toward the soldier who accompanied him. "This is one of the men who assaulted my friend and me during the raid. Single him out for punishment," said Adam in a low emotionless voice.

"Yes sir, I'll inform Colonel Christopher," replied the soldier as he saluted the Duke's young diplomat. Then, turning away from the row of prisoners, Adam walked up the steps of the manor house and took the stairs to his room on the second floor. Once there he locked the door behind him. His hand shook as he poured himself a small glass of hard liquor from the decanter on the dresser and drank it down in one swallow. Collapsing on a chair, he buried his face in his hands as the pent up tears flowed from his eyes.

***

Colonel Christopher was in no mood to be patient. He had had Eddy and his brother brought to him out beyond the remaining out-buildings of the manor.

The two prisoners stood there still looking defiant in spite of the fact that Private Smith had earlier in the day raped the younger of the two.

"I have just one more question. I suggest that you answer it truthfully since your answer may determine whether or not a war with your friends back in Richmond is warranted. Was the raid on Chatham Manor ordered from Richmond or was that something that your local leader decided to do on his own? You might as well tell me," said the colonel.

The older boy shrugged and replied, "Jo-Jo was only supposed to get information on how well defended Chatham Manor was and report back. When it became apparent that it was hardly defended at all, he decided to go ahead and raid it without waiting. He wanted to prove to our leader just how good a warrior he was. The raid went really well for us. Looking back, I can see how he was foolish to let his guard down and relax and not expect that Lord Chatham would retaliate for the raid. He deserved to die at the hands of your men."

"It seems that you're a lot smarter than this Jo-Jo was," replied the colonel. "Take these two back to where we have the rest of the prisoners. I have what I wanted to know."

***

Later that day there was a hanging on the lawn of the court house square in Fredericksburg. The dead man's body was left hanging for a full day for all to see. Pinned to his ragged shirt was a crude sign that read: "This man attacked the Duke of Washington's emissary."

Nearby, in the county jail, the remaining prisoners were locked up to await the next slave auction. For them, life had forever changed. But that's another story.

Chapter 11
Winchester: Free at Last

Billy woke from a deep sleep. At his side, Seth and Luke's heavy breathing indicated that they were still asleep. As he looked down at his sleeping friends, memories of the fun that the three of them had shared the night before in this very bed flooded back into his mind. Billy grinned as he remembered how soundly his friends (and now sometimes lovers) could sleep when they had the chance. Slowly, being careful not to wake the two of them, Billy sat up on the edge of the bed in the small room that they now shared on the Masterson farm outside of Winchester.

Thinking back to the previous day, the boy could not shake a feeling of sorrow for Red. What he had done was wrong, but Billy was not sure that being raped was the punishment that he had deserved. Then, he thought to himself that at least Red had only been raped by his victim's uncle and not the other four men who were with him as might have been the case.

Upon arrival in Winchester, they had turned the auburn-haired boy over to the local sheriff and related what had happened on the trail. They also relayed Moss Hardwick's message that he had raped him in revenge for Red's rape of his fifteen-year-old nephew months earlier in Warrenton. That was enough for the sheriff to hold Red in his jail, pending a hearing.

They were, however, surprised to learn that they were being released 'on their honor' to appear before a judge the following day regarding both Red and their request for asylum. They were even more surprised when the sheriff told them to go to the Masterson farm just outside of town and tell Paul Masterson and his wife, Mary, that the sheriff had sent them to their door asking for a meal and a place to sleep for the night.

In the early light of morning, Billy stood up and stretched his naked body. Now thirteen, Billy stood about 5' 6" [1.7 m] and weighed 140 lbs. [64 kg]. His young body was naturally muscular and had been hardened by the hard work of life along the Choptank before he became a brothel boy. Although he looked more masculine than boyish, he had only recently entered puberty, as evidenced by the mere fringe of dark hair that now grew above his penis. From sleeping nude with his friends and servicing customers at the Blue Boy there in Williamsburg, he knew that his flaccid three and a half-inch [9 cm] organ was as large as that of other boys his age. For a moment, the pleasure of his sexual adventures back in Williamsburg crossed his mind, but then his thoughts turned to how much more he wanted the freedom that beckoned here in Winchester.

Seth stirred in his sleep, unconsciously pushing back the thin blanket that was their only cover on the bed. As he did so, much of his teenaged body was exposed to Billy's view. Standing there, Billy found himself thinking that the big farm boy's body looked even more attractive in the full light of morning than it had the night before. As he was admiring Seth, Luke rolled over, draping his arm over his lover's back in the process. This left Seth on his back with his penis exposed while Luke was on his stomach with his attractive backside on full view.

Billy looked at the two superb examples of boy flesh in front of him without having to shift his gaze to keep from staring. 'There's definitely an advantage to looking at sleeping nudes,' he thought to himself as his eyes lingered on the inert forms of his friends. His penis stirred and slowly became erect as he remembered their evening of pleasure only hours earlier.

Whereas Seth was a 'whitey,' Luke was what four hundred years earlier would have been called a 'Mandingo.' He was a deep tan and stood six feet [1.85 cm] tall and weighed 190 lbs. [85 kg]. This compared to Seth's five foot ten [1.79 cm] and 185 lbs. [84 kg]. The upper bodies of both Seth and Luke were muscular and well-defined from a life composed of both hard work and the training that they had been forced to do in order to keep themselves in top physical shape for the wrestling matches where their owners made money from their efforts. Both had well-developed biceps and pectoral muscles. Whereas all of the work and training had left Seth well built with a good, if somewhat lean build, Luke, on the other hand, had developed particularly large, hard arms and prominent pecs.

In spite of all of the sex of the night before, Billy felt an overwhelming urge to jerk off. He reached down and felt his stiff cock. To him, it was a fascinating toy, this plump four and a half-inch [11 cm] rod of warm, rigid flesh. Slowly, he let his fingers glide up and down the shaft. As he repeated the motion and increased the pace, he giggled to himself, thinking of how fortunate he was to be here in this room in a place that was safe and far from the slavery that he had known in the Tidewater. Each time the erection slapped against the soft hairless skin of his lower belly, a tingle ran through his body. Standing there in the morning sunlight with no one around and with his lovers fast asleep, Billy began seriously working his stiff organ. Moving his fingertips up and down the shaft felt delicious. Squeezing his hand made the sensations feel even better and caused an intense shiver of pleasure to run through his young body. The feeling increased yet again when he used the fingers of his other hand to fondle his balls.

Moments later, he went rigid as he climaxed, shooting cum across the floor in three strong bursts followed by several shorter ones. 'Sex is wonderful,' was all that he could think as he stood there beside the bed panting from his exertions.

***

Later that morning, Seth, Luke, and Billy were seated just behind the railing in the courtroom as the bailiff walked through the door. He stood there beside the judge's bench and announced in a loud voice, "All rise. Hear ye, hear ye, court is now in session. Judge Matt Parrish presiding. God save the Commonwealth. God save Lord Winchester."

A middle-aged man in a long black robe entered the courtroom and took his seat on the bench. His short, white hair and Van Dyke beard stood out in contrast to his dark clothing highlighting the serious demeanor that he projected.

The bailiff intoned, "Be seated," and those assembled in the room took their chairs.

Next there was a huddled discussion between the judge, the sheriff, and what they later learned was the public prosecutor. Finally, the judge motioned to the bailiff and told him to bring in the prisoner so that the trial could begin.

A disheveled Red was then brought into the courtroom. His hair was uncombed and his clothes were dirty and stained from his encounter with the men along the road to Winchester. In addition, his hands were shackled in front of him in steel cuffs linked by a short chain.

The sheriff explained the circumstances as to why an officer of the court in Warrenton was now standing there in chains. Pointing to Seth, Luke, and Billy, he relayed their story as to how Moss Hardwick had claimed that Red had misused his authority as a jailor and raped his nephew in the jail in Warrenton. There was a low gasp among those present in the court room when the sheriff told of how the accuser had taken his revenge by raping Red for raping his nephew.

Speaking to all present, the judge said, "It's unfortunate that Moss Hardwick did not accompany the prisoner to Winchester to bear witness to what happened in Warrenton. However, he had already filed a complaint against the prisoner a week ago. Also, Mr. Hardwick is a justice of the peace in his part of the county and, while his punishment of the prisoner was extreme, he does have the authority to take action against those who have disturbed the peace, even if the action itself happened outside of his jurisdiction. This is, of course, conditional upon the actions having affected one or more residents of his county."

Turning to where Seth, Luke, and Billy sat, he asked, "Do any of you who witnessed Moss Hardwick's action have anything to add?"

Seth stood up, cleared his throat, and said, "No, your honor, what the sheriff has said is correct regarding what happened on the road from Warrenton to Winchester. However, while we were being held in the jail at Warrenton waiting to come to Winchester to ask for asylum, Red forced Billy, our young friend here, to have oral sex with him in what I later learned was the room where the night watch of the jail sleeps."

Judge Martin looked at Red with a disgusted look on his face and said, "I've heard enough. Lord Winchester expects the law to be enforced fairly. Austin Smith called 'Red'; you are a disgrace to law enforcement in our Commonwealth. I hereby strip you of your position as a deputy sheriff of Fauquier County. Moss Hardwick had already filed a complaint against you seeking your arrest prior to your encounter with him on the road. Since he has already seen fit to punish you for your abuse of authority, I will only sentence you a half-day of public humiliation and degradation on the courthouse square, followed by 30 days on the county road gang. Said punishment to begin at one in the afternoon today."

Red looked horrified and stammered something about mercy, but the sheriff and the bailiff managed to cram a gag into his mouth and half drag half walk him out of the courtroom, sobbing as he went.

***

Seth, Luke, and Billy were on the front row of spectators as the courthouse clock chimed the one o'clock hour. The judge had insisted that they be there where they were in order to watch Red's punishment since they were so closely involved in the events on the road from Warrenton to Winchester and the fact that Billy had been one of his victims. The judge had also told them to return to his courtroom after Red's punishment so that he could rule on their request for asylum in Lord Winchester's domain.

As the sound of the clock died away, the door to the courthouse swung open and the sheriff and one of his deputies emerged dragging with them a naked Red using a rope that was securely tied around his neck. The boys could see that he was gagged with some sort of ball gag in his mouth that would prevent him from making any sound while being punished. They could also see that his hands were cuffed behind him. However, the real surprise was that his hair had been cut down to little more than auburn stubble and his pubes were gone.

Red was wide-eyed and seemed to be nearly hysterical as he was lead toward the structure that stood at one side of the courthouse square that housed the punishment stocks. At 5' 10" [1.80 m] and weighing at the most 150 lbs. [68 kg], Red was a tall thin young whitey who would make a good target while pilloried.

Billy looked intently at his former jailer, sizing him up as he was dragged toward the stocks. Red had little other body hair on his freckled body but did have good hard pecs and firm abs. Billy remembered that his nipples stood out like hard little knobs against his chest. A distinct treasure trail still ran down from his navel to what had until recently been his ample auburn pubes. Below that, his several inches of boy meat was half erect.

There was a moment when it seemed like Red's gaze caught Billy's. In the split second that they had looked directly at each other, it was as though some evil thought had crossed the older boy's mind. Billy shuttered as his former jailor was dragged past him and his friends.

The stocks on the courthouse square were part of a larger sturdy frame structure. This complex had been built using strong four by four timbers sometime in the past, as evidenced by the dark staining of the wood. It looked more like a door frame until one realized that it contained handholds that extended down from the top as well as footholds at the bottom.

The sheriff and his deputy bypassed the traditional stocks that stood at one side of the main structure and began securing Red to the overhead handholds by his wrists with his arms over his head. Once they had his hands firmly in place, they forced his feet into the footholds and secured them there. This left Red exposed, spread-eagled and naked in the frame.

The sheriff raised his hand and called for quiet. The crowd that had assembled slowly grew silent as the lawman read out the crime and the sentence. The fact that Moss Hardwick had already punished the prisoner was stressed as the reason why his sentence was so light given the seriousness of the crime.

Neither Billy, Luke, nor Seth had ever experienced anything like what they were witnessing. Of course, they had seen slaves punished, but nothing like having someone stripped and tied up on the courthouse square for all to see and for God knows what else. Suddenly, the boys from Fredericksburg were startled when the sheriff called out: "Among the prisoner's crimes, Billy, the boy down here in front of me, was forced by this man to have oral sex with him. Come up here, boy," ordered the lawman.

Reluctantly, Billy worked his way up to the platform where Red was trussed up. The sheriff pointed at him and said to the assembled townspeople, "Since this young man was abused by the prisoner, the judge has tasked me with giving him the opportunity to jack off said prisoner as a mark of his humiliation."

Billy stood there himself, almost in shock. It was one thing to give a hand job in the privacy of a room in a brothel, another to do it in public. Red screamed into his gag and squirmed in vain, trying to free himself as he heard what they were planning to do to him.

The sheriff smiled a wicked smile, amused as he was at Billy's obvious shock and reluctance to carry out this part of Red's sentence. The lawman cleared his throat and added, "As an alternative, we have 'Old Sparky' waiting for Red, if you would rather use that instead of jacking the prisoner off." This development seemed to delight the assembled townspeople and they began to call out, "Sparky, sparky, sparky."

Again, the sheriff raised his hands and signaled for silence. Once the calls for Sparky had died down, he added, "For the benefit of our young friend here and anyone else who might not be familiar with 'Old Sparky,' it's a hand-cranked generator. It's something that the first Lord Winchester saved from the days before the plague. Put simply, you stick a probe up a guy's hole and turn the crank and it generates something called electricity, which gives the guy a real thrill as a reminder of his crime. What do you say, shall we give ol' Red here something to remind him that he's not going to be abusing any more men or boys?"

Billy stood there thinking that anything would be better than having to give someone a hand job in front of a crowd and nodded his agreement with the idea of using it on Red.

Again, a big smile crossed the sheriff's face as he looked at the audience there on the courthouse square. He held up the probe for them to see. Slowly, he waved it at them, making sure that no one missed seeing it. The shout from the crowd was almost deafening as they anticipated his next move. Walking behind the prisoner, he motioned for Billy to help him part the squirming prisoner's butt cheeks.

Billy could see Red's hole clearly as he made sure that it was exposed and ready for the probe. The sheriff rubbed the metal with some sort of lubricant from a jar that was sitting on one end of the platform where Red was struggling against his bonds. Then, in one deliberate motion, he shoved it all the way into the prisoner's boy hole. Even with a gag, Billy and the sheriff could hear Red's scream of fear and pain as his body was violated with the probe from the hand generator.

The sheriff made sure that the leads to the probe were in place and connected to the generator. Then he motioned to Billy to come over so that he could show him how best to turn the crank that would generate the electricity that would go directly into Red's defenseless body.

The lawman got Billy into position and spoke into his ear, explaining how to work the crank that would produce the electricity. To the boy, it sounded simple. Taking his cue from the sheriff, Billy cranked vigorously, not sure of just what to expect.

As the current coursed through his body, Red again screamed into his gag and went rigid in the frame. He hung there with his twitching matching the rhythm of the electric current as it pulsated through his body. Adding to his humiliation, he lost control of his bladder and pissed on the ground beneath the frame where he was bound.

The crowd went wild, cheering at Red's suffering. Seth and Luke sat there wide-eyed with astonished looks on their faces. Neither had ever seen anything like this before.

At last, realizing what he was doing, Billy stopped cranking the handle of the generator. He, too, had never seen anything like it before and deep down didn't feel that this punishment was necessary. After all, Red had already been raped by Moss Hardwick in reprisal for what he had done to his nephew. He jumped up from where he was on the platform and ran down to where Seth and Luke were standing. He'd had enough. He buried his head against Luke's chest as he flung his arms around his friend. Strong arms folded around him, comforting and protecting him from what was happening on the framework above them.

Red was still conscious as the sheriff took over from Billy. He ran a hand across the auburn haired boy's sweat covered heaving chest and slowly let it slip down to his penis and testicles. With his big hand, he grasped Red's package and squeezed hard. The boy screamed into his gag wide-eyed with pain. The man smiled and patted the boy on his slim left butt cheek. Slowly and in full view of his prisoner, he returned to the generator.

The crowd could see the prisoner trying to make the word "no" through his gag. As they cheered "More, more, more," the sheriff gave the handle a swift crank sending a second surge of electricity through Red's defenseless body. He stiffened once again and then went limp. Much to the crowd's disgust, he had fainted.

Again, the sheriff called for quiet. Once the crowd had more or less settled down, he addressed them, saying, "That's it, folks. As I said when we strung the prisoner up, Moss Hardwick has already seen fit to rape him in revenge for the rape of his nephew. Judge Martin has sentenced this man to be left here until Five PM today but there will be no further punishment. When I cut him down, he will be sent to the county road gang for thirty days. Unless you just want to watch him as he is, that's all there is to see. I'll be leaving a deputy here to ensure that no one violates the judge's order."

***

Seth, Luke, and Billy made their way back into the courtroom and took seats on the front row. Once again, the bailiff called the chamber to order as Judge Martin entered and took his seat.

For a few minutes the judge sat there on the bench reviewing a written account of their request for asylum that had been forwarded to him from Warrenton by carrier pigeon the day before their arrival. Looking up, he said in a serious tone of voice, "So you boys are escaped slaves from Fredericksburg who fled when Chatham manor was raided by rabble from the Richmond. Is that correct?"

"Yes, your honor," all three responded at once.

"We don't allow slavery here in Winchester," replied the judge. "What will you do to earn a living if you are granted asylum?"

Speaking for the three of them, Luke answered, "Sir, we spent the night with the Mastersons just outside of town. They could use some help with their farm. All three of us grew up on farms or in the country. Mr. Masterson has assured us that he could use us there if we are granted asylum within the jurisdiction of Lord Winchester."

"I know Paul Masterson well," replied the judge. "He's a good man. If he will vouch for you and give you work on his farm, I'll grant you temporary asylum pending a rehearing in six months. If all is well at that time, I'll make your asylum permanent.

Luke, Seth, and Billy stood there, drinking in the fact that they were going to be free. None of them had any trouble working to earn their keep. The very fact that they would be doing it as free men and not as slaves was something that was overwhelming. Visibly shaken, all three answered at once, "Thank you, your honor."

***

Minutes later, standing on the courthouse steps, Billy, more than his friends, could appreciate what it meant to be free. He had been born a free boy and only lost his freedom because his father had needed money to pay his taxes. Now, he was free again. As he stood there, he thought to himself, 'This is my chance for a new life. I'm never going to be a slave again, no matter what.'

It was a promise that he kept for the rest of his life.

The End