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From: Michael Michael <wannabewhitman@yahoo.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} The Adventures of Stampley Plantation: Chapter 3 (Mmb nc hist interr ds va)
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Date: Fri, 28 Jul 2006 00:10:01 -0400
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<1st attachment, "The Adventures of Stampley Plantation - Chapter 3.doc" begin>

The Adventures of Stampley Plantation

By WannabeWhitman (Mmb, nc, rape, ds, 1st, hist, interr, va)

DISCLAIMER:  This story is a homosexual fantasy involving slavery
in the antebellum South, non-consensual sex with minors, and
racial epithets. If you think any of this might offend you, DO
NOT READ. If you live in a country, state, or jurisdiction that
prohibits you from reading this material, DO NOT READ. If you are
a minor, DO NOT READ. I realize these stories might contain
material distasteful, even shocking, to some, but nobody is
forcing you to read it. Keep in mind these are only FANTASIES
based on our country's racial history and my own conflicted
imagination. My intention is not to condone or encourage racism,
sex with minors, or rape. 

Although this story is set in the antebellum South, I have not
done extensive research and cannot guarantee complete historical
accuracy. Most of the names, however, are taken from actual
records of slave-owners and their slaves. 

Any and all feedback is welcome and desired! I would love to hear
advice on how my writing might improve, characters or scenes you
particularly enjoy, suggestions for future characters or
storylines, stories and fantasies of your own, and anything else
you might want to share. E-mail me at <a
href="mailto:WannabeWhitman@yahoo.com">WannabeWhitman@yahoo.com</
a>. 

Chapter 3: The Bribe

Elijah was dreaming of escape. 

He was out of breath, running for his very life through a dark
forest in the middle of the night. His mother and little brother
were with him, and together they were using the stars and full
moon to guide them North. He could hear the blood-curdling howls
of the hounds in fast pursuit of the three runaways. But his fear
didn't matter, because at that moment he was FREE. Free from his
Master's clammy groping hands. Free from the sweaty grunts and
searing pain every time his Master mounted him from behind. Free
from the helpless feeling of knowing his teenage body was not his
own, but rather subject to his Master's every whim and
perversion. 

He was running, running, running from the yelping of the hounds,
but large tree branches kept getting in his way. One thick branch
in particular hung menacingly in his way, hitting him in the face
and blocking his path as he tried to duck beneath it. He cried
out for his mother and Thad, but they were nowhere to be found.
He felt like the tree branch was suffocating him........

Elijah jerked awake from his dream with terror in his eyes. 

He was still in Master James's bed. The full moon pouring through
the bedroom windows and the sound of coyotes howling in the
distance told him it was still in the deep of night. 

The tree branch of Elijah's dream was actually his Master's
rock-hard dick, poking and pushing for an entrance into his
sleepy mouth. As soon as Elijah woke up enough to realize what
was happening, he turned his head away in disgust. He recalled
that only a few hours earlier, that same dick had been shoved
inside his shit-hole. Even though Master James had cleaned it
off, the thought of putting it in his mouth was anything but
appetizing. 

Elijah felt his Master grabbing a handful of hair at the back of
his head, forcing his face to confront the veiny monster
demanding attention from his tired mouth. Elijah knew resistance
was futile. Clenching his eyes shut in disgust, he reluctantly
let his Master's cock push past his lips and deep into his mouth.


James straddled Elijah's face, clutching a clump of nappy hair at
the back of the boy's head, thus forcing his mouth's submission
to every urgent thrust. 

James was especially turned on by the spontaneity of the act. In
the past when he'd woken from sleep with midnight cravings, all
he could do was splash cold water on his cock, or relieve himself
with a quick, frustrating jerk-off. But tonight, when dreams of
Elijah's cum-drenched face had awakened James's dick, all he had
to do was turn to the naked slave-boy sleeping beside him for
immediate satisfaction. 

James was thrilled by the idea that a boy as innocent and
beautiful as Elijah had no choice but to serve his sexual needs
at any time of the night or day. He was also beginning to realize
his power to destroy the slave-boy's innocence, slowly and
methodically, orgasm by orgasm, until all purity and resistance
had been irreversibly eradicated. He knew without a doubt that
this power lay within his reach; it was now only a question of
the extent to which he'd explore and enjoy that power. 

Part of him viewed his newfound power with shame and fear. Why on
earth would a decent, compassionate man like he want to turn a
happy, spirited young boy into an exploited animal, a hollow
shell of a human being? But a deeper, darker part of James
couldn't resist his curiosity to witness firsthand what such a
transformation would look like, especially if HE were the one
responsible for the boy's corruption.

Even though James had reached explosive climax just hours ago, he
couldn't believe how good it felt to plunge his dick into
Elijah's half-asleep mouth. The sight of the boy's tightly shut
eyes and facial grimaces under the moonlight only intensified his
mounting pleasure. With his left hand, James rubbed Elijah's
forehead, cheeks, and chin, savoring the smoothness of the boy's
brown skin. With his right hand, he enjoyed the feel of Elijah's
wooly, disheveled hair clutched in his fingers. 

He forced Elijah's face into his crotch, stabbing his cock deeper
and deeper into the boy's helpless mouth. Every time his dick hit
the back of Elijah's throat, James could hear moans, gasps, and
cries of protest coming from the boy's mouth, creating a rhythmic
accompaniment to every thrust. If James happened to slam his dick
into the boy's mouth with extra violence, these sounds would be
punctuated with a rise in volume, gagging noises, or increased
sense of panic in Elijah's gasps for air. Rather than awaken
James's latent compassion, however, these sounds only further
enflamed James's lust. 

Elijah tried in vain to make his mind and spirit leave his body
until the assault was over. He tried to imagine himself fishing
with Thad and Moses, or listening to the stories his father used
to tell him and his little brother. Rather than relieve his
anguish, however, these attempts only intensified his pain and
sense of shame. Wherever his father was, Elijah hoped he was
still alive so that he couldn't look down and see his eldest son
with the Master's cock stuffed in his mouth, like a hog roasting
on a spit at Christmastime. 

Elijah no longer felt the same fear for his life that he'd
experienced during his first oral assault two days earlier. He
knew his Master's dick could choke him, but not to the point of
actual suffocation. This time around, Elijah knew the thrusting
attack would eventually be over. 

It was still hell on earth while it lasted, though. The Master's
dick tasted salty and clammy, and shot bolts of pain throughout
his body every time it stabbed the insides of his cheeks or the
back of his throat. Since he hadn't had anything to drink for
several hours, Elijah's lips and mouth were parched, forcing him
to strain to produce more saliva before the Master noticed
anything was wrong. 

James noticed that it was taking him longer to climax this time.
Too bad for the boy, he thought to himself. 

The extra time allowed James to throw back his head, close his
eyes, and relish every stroke of the boy's hot tongue against his
shaft; every suction of Elijah's thick Negro lips as his own cock
slurped in and out of their nearly-virgin opening; every glimpse
by moonlight of the boy's angry, panicked eyes when they'd open
wide after a particularly brutal thrust. 

Every few minutes, James took his dick out of Elijah's mouth and
smacked its hardness against the boy's chin, lips, cheeks, and
forehead. He liked wiping a trail of precum from the boy's ear,
down his neck, across his Adam's apple, and up to his other ear,
a mark of degradation on the caramel-skinned slave-boy. It only
took seconds of such playfulness, however, before James's dick
would miss the wet tightness of Elijah's mouth and dive back into
its warm resting-place.

The suction of Elijah's stiff lips and awkward wriggling of his
tongue soon had another stream of hot semen surging from deep
within James's balls to the head of his dick. Having already
released a load of cum into Elijah's ass two nights before, and
having splattered his face with hot juices just a few hours
earlier, James now felt an urgent desire to unleash his orgasm in
the slave-boy's unsuspecting mouth. He tightened his grip on the
back of Elijah's head and thrust his cock deep into the boy's
throat, holding it there as he pumped stream after stream of
steamy liquid down the boy's esophagus. 

Elijah's body fought to free itself as he felt the sudden
explosion of runny fluid in the back of his throat, but James's
strong hands held him firmly in place. The older white man's cum
had a pungent odor and sour taste, and Elijah's throat gagged to
refuse it entrance into the boy's healthy young body. Choking and
sputtering, Elijah felt his mouth filling with the hot, bitter
fluid until it ran out the corners of his mouth, down his chin,
and into a puddle on his naked brown chest. 

"Swallow it!" James hissed in frustration.

Elijah squeezed his eyes shut and tried desperately to open his
throat to the slimy, disgusting liquid. Some of it oozed into his
throat and he gulped it down hurriedly.

"Listen, boy," James warned sternly. "Don't let this happen
again. Next time you'll know what's coming, and you'd better
swallow every drop. Like this........" 

James scooped up gobs of cum from Elijah's chin, neck, and chest,
then shoved them into the boy's slobbery mouth. 

"Lick my fingers clean," James ordered, enjoying the thrill of
mastery over the visibly repulsed boy. 

Elijah resentfully licked the white gooey fluid off the older
white man's fingers, doing everything within his power to avoid
puking from the acrid taste. He almost preferred having his
Master's spunk shot deep into his bowels; at least that way he
wouldn't be forced to see, smell, or taste it.

Even after Elijah had licked his fingers thoroughly clean, James
continued to probe the boy's warm mouth with his fingers. James
got a sadistic thrill from looking down at Elijah's clenched eyes
while he grabbed the boy's tongue and rubbed his fingers along
the ridges of small white teeth. James even poked his index
finger into the back of Elijah's throat, just to hear his raspy
adolescent gagging one more time. 

His body spent from its second orgasm of the evening, James's
sadism soon gave way to resumed tenderness. He  pulled the boy
into a close embrace facing him. In that position, he gently
stroked Elijah's wildly matted hair and kissed the boy's sore
mouth. His tongue explored all the places his fingers had just
fondled, and he sucked on Elijah's cute little tongue. 

James sensed the tension in Elijah's body. He knew the boy wasn't
reciprocating his tenderness, but by that point he didn't care.
Elijah was his PROPERTY, after all, and existed solely to feed
his sexual appetites and keep his loneliness at bay. He could
keep him a sexual prisoner like this for weeks, months, even
YEARS at a time. 

James's kissing became slower and clumsier, until eventually he
fell asleep in mid-kiss. 

Elijah waited until his Master was safely asleep, then squirmed
out of his embrace to face the opposite wall. His esophagus still
burned from the tangy taste of his Master's juices, and his body
felt dirty from the sticky cum still caked on his face and chest.
But as miserable as he felt, Elijah was relieved to have his
ordeal over with, for another few hours at least.

Next thing he knew, Elijah was being shaken awake by a bony white
hand on his shoulder. His eyes shot open and he tried to remember
where he was. 

"Wake up, my little black beauty," James said kindly, but the
words made Elijah cringe. James was wearing pants and sitting on
the edge of the bed. He was holding a wide metal tray that
carried several plates of steaming, delicious-smelling food and a
glass pitcher filled with an orange liquid.

"Time for breakfast, Elijah," James explained, nudging the boy
awake. "Becky must think I have a monstrous appetite this
morning," he laughed, winking at Elijah. James wanted Elijah to
forget his sexual brutality during these moments of quiet
intimacy, but Elijah only nodded with a far-away look in his
eyes. 

James moved to sit with his back against the bed's headboard, the
tray resting on his lap, and motioned for Elijah to sit up beside
him. The boy sleepily moved into place beside his cheerful
Master, wiping his eyes and looking down at the food laid before
him. There were hot flaky biscuits drenched in melted butter and
strawberry jam; slices of crispy bacon; two bowls of steaming
oatmeal; and chunks of freshly cut watermelon. 

Elijah's eyes opened wide in wonder at the feast in front of him.
James smiled, realizing this was probably the first decent meal
of the teenage boy's life. 

"Eat all you want," James encouraged. "I can even ask for more if
you'd like. Poor Becky might think I've lost my mind, but she'll
cook up more if I ask." 

Elijah stared at the food in shock. His pride urged him to refuse
his Master's kindness, but his growling stomach insisted
otherwise. Elijah's bony ribcage wasn't just the look of awkward
adolescence; it was also a sign of severe under-nourishment.
Master Walt had never let his slaves starve, but he certainly
wasn't generous with food rations. Other than Christmastime,
Elijah's diet consisted primarily of cornbread, gruel (basically
mashed corn), fried potatoes, boiled greens, and fish if he and
his buddies were lucky enough to catch some. With the exception
of the occasional rabbit or squirrel, meat was a rare delicacy,
and fruit was even scarcer. Even with the food Elijah was
accustomed to, portions were small and never fully satisfied his
hunger. Elijah knew that white folks in the big house lived
better than their slaves, but he'd never imagined prosperity
quite like this. The temptation to sample such wealth was too
strong. Elijah reached forward, grabbed one of the warm biscuits,
and then greedily crammed it into his hungry mouth. 

"There you go," James said, laughing sympathetically at the boy's
raw display of hunger. He watched in amusement as Elijah devoured
his breakfast like a madman, shoveling food into his mouth faster
than his skinny arms could reach for it.  

"Easy now, Elijah," James warned, still chuckling. "Don't make
yourself sick! It's not going anywhere, so take your time." 

He reached out and took his own bite of biscuit, watching Elijah
out of the corner of his eye. 

"Most slaves would kill to be in your place right now," James
explained. He wasn't sure if it was true, but it hit the
persuasive note he was aiming for. Elijah continued inhaling his
breakfast, seemingly indifferent to his Master's words.

"I know you're probably not fond of the........things I make you
do when we're together," James continued. "But you'll see that
being my personal slave has its advantages. No other slaves get
to sleep on such a soft bed, for example, or wake up to such a
feast. Besides, I think I've treated you with more kindness than
the overseers probably treat your mother in the fields." 

Elijah didn't look up, but resented the Master mentioning his
mother so casually. He focused on the pleasant sensations of
breakfast, and tried to ignore his Master's annoying rambling. 

James poured Elijah a glass of orange juice. The boy stared at it
curiously, then gulped it down greedily. It was his first taste
of orange juice; water was the only liquid he'd ever drank with
breakfast. He liked its sweet, cool taste, and it helped wash
from his mouth the smell of morning breath and aftertaste of
swallowed cum.

"Refreshing, isn't it?" James asked, smiling and stroking the
boy's greasy, nappy head. "What I'm trying to tell you, Elijah,
is that if you continue trying to make ME happy, I'll do my best
to make sure that YOU'RE happy too. I have to confess, I'm
already growing quite fond of you." 

Elijah wanted to spit his food in his Master's face and tell him
the way to make him TRULY happy would be to send him back to his
mother and little brother, and never make him do another
disgusting thing with him ever again. But he remembered the
Master's threats from two nights before, and knew his fate as a
slave-boy was to submit to suffering without challenge or
complaint. 

"Thank you, Massuh James," Elijah mumbled with his mouth full of
bacon. "This breakfast's real good, Massuh. I know you'se been
kind to me, Massuh James." He remembered his mother's advice,
telling his Master everything he wanted to hear. 

James got goose bumps at the sound of the teenage boy's raspy,
grateful voice. His dick also twitched at the sight of Elijah's
brown naked body, covered in crumbs and remnants of dried cum
from the previous night's adventures. 

Even the sight of Elijah EATING was arousing to James. He enjoyed
watching the eager gulps of his slave-boy's Adam's apple,
imagining the food being swallowed deep into the boy's insides
where it would be digested into a part of the boy's beauty,
sweat, energy, and shit. He knew it was crazy, but part of him
envied the food's contact with the most intimate and unreachable
parts of the boy's breathtaking body. 

Swept up in a moment of impulsive passion, James took Elijah's
cheeks in both hands, interrupting his breakfast and pulling him
close for a deep, tender kiss. He licked the crumbs off the boy's
fleshy Negro lips, sucking tenderly at Elijah's half-open mouth
still full of half-chewed food. 

Elijah rolled his eyes back to look at the ceiling, frustrated
with his Master's interruption of his breakfast. He watched in
silent protest as James moved the breakfast tray to the floor,
stood to remove his pants, and climbed back beside him,
smothering his face with aggressive kisses. 

"Damn," Elijah thought sourly. "He ain't even gonna let me finish
eatin' before he takes his way with me again." 

"You can finish your breakfast later," James assured him
breathlessly, caught up in his growing frenzy of lust. "Now it's
time for you to EARN it."

He pulled Elijah down into a horizontal position on his back, and
covered the slave-boy's scrawny naked body with his own nude,
pale, middle-aged flesh. 

He grabbed Elijah's face in both hands and devoured it with his
mouth, relishing the smell and taste of sleepy boy. He nuzzled
the boy's neck and grinded his dick against his legs while Elijah
stared at the ceiling above him in boredom and despair. 

This moment of passion, begun with a flash of tender foreplay,
quickly turned into something urgent and animalistic. James's
dick was already fully hard and poking hungrily around the warm
crevices of the boy's thighs and buttocks. He felt a greedy,
overwhelming desire to fuck the boy quickly and without mercy. He
had watched Elijah's breakfast slide eagerly down his throat, and
now he longed to feel the boy's insides again before they became
polluted from digestion. 

James shoved Elijah's legs into the air and pushed the boy's
knees against his chest. Elijah's ass tensed in anticipation of
its second violation in several hours, its third in the boy's
entire young life. 

James leaned across the bed and reached down to the abandoned
breakfast tray on the floor. He scooped up a glob of melting
butter from one of the dishes, returned to his position between
his slave-boy's spread legs, and smeared it all around Elijah's
dark, wrinkled asshole. The boy's asshole tightened at first
touch, then loosened slightly, then tightened again, panting in
dread of the assault just seconds away. 

James pushed one, then two of his butter-drenched fingers into
Elijah's resistant asshole, watching the boy wince in pain as he
did so. This was a new and interesting sensation, he thought, the
feel of his FINGERS exploring the boy's forbidden insides. He
loved the panicked grip of the boy's asshole as it fought
fiercely to expel the unwanted intruders. He savored the silky,
slimy feel of the boy's rectum as his fingers wriggled their way
deeper and deeper. He smiled as he watched the boy gasp in
protest, then cover his face with his right arm in frustration
and embarrassment. 

James removed his fingers, but just before he started to wipe
them on the bed-sheets, he had a wicked impulse to make Elijah
lick them clean. The idea of the boy being forced to taste the
melted butter mixed with the slime from his rectum was
surprisingly and sadistically exciting to James. Without warning
or permission, James shoved his gooey fingers into Elijah's
horrified mouth. 

"Lick them clean!" James ordered, enjoying his command over the
boy. 

Elijah started to choke, but had no choice but to suck his own
slimy insides off his Master's fingers. He longed for another
drink of orange juice to rinse out the nasty taste and musky
smell of James's fingers. 

James nearly climaxed right then, just watching Elijah's
expressions of surprise and disgust. 

He knew it was time to fuck the boy's warm, greasy asshole  
briefly but brutally. He placed his eager cock against the boy's
tight opening, then fully entered the boy in one forceful thrust.


Elijah screamed in protest so loudly that James worried for a
second that Mr. Potter, Becky, or Abel would come running to see
who'd been murdered. James smothered the boy's screams with his
right hand, pressing down on the boy's face as he used his dick
as a battering ram to open Elijah's tight entryway. The warm
melted butter intensified the normal pleasures of ass-fucking,
and allowed James's dick to sink deeper into Elijah's guts than
on his first two fuckings. 

With a threatening look, James removed his hand from Elijah's
mouth. Elijah substituted his screams of agony with quick,
guttural gasps of pain that accompanied every thrust. Every gasp
was paired with a clenching-shut of the boy's eyes in misery and
endurance. These sights and sounds provided physical proof of
James's power over Elijah, inspiring him to slam his adult body
into the boy's scrawny frame with even greater intensity.

It only took a dozen brutal thrusts into his slave-boy's lanky
brown body before James felt a weaker but still-powerful orgasm
building up within him. He leaned down and smothered Elijah's
cries by shoving his tongue into the boy's gaping mouth, tasting
sweet remnants of biscuits and bacon mixed with the fouler taste
of butter and ass-juices. He lunged his body deeper and deeper
into Elijah, thrilled by the feeling of the boy's sprawled legs
and feet wrapped around his back. Finally, James buried his head
into the sweaty nape of Elijah's neck and focused all his energy
on the orgasm to come. He whispered Elijah's name over and over
in his slave-boy's ear, grunting in defeated ecstasy as he heaved
his body into Elijah's one final time, emptying what was left of
his body's semen supply deep into his slave-boy's waiting bowels.


He lay atop Elijah's body, his softening dick still inside the
boy's butter-greased ass, sweating and panting for breath, for
what felt like hours to Elijah's restless body. 

Finally Elijah worked up the nerve to ask hesitantly, "Can I
finish eatin' now, Massuh James?" 

James lifted his head up to look down at his shy, scared
slave-boy. He chuckled at the boy's simple request, uttered with
such simplicity and candor. His chuckle turned into long,
convulsive laughter atop Elijah's frail, confused body. Still
laughing uncontrollably, James rolled off the boy and onto his
back. He reached down to the floor, lifted up the tray, and put
it on Elijah's lap, laughing the entire time. 

Now he was laughing at far more than Elijah's nervous request. He
was laughing at the irony and absurdity of life. He was laughing
at the fact that barely two weeks earlier he'd been a Northern
virgin prude, scared of sex and judgmental toward slavery, and
here he was, naked and sweaty and laughing after fucking the hell
out of a scared, innocent 14-year-old Negro slave   for the THIRD
time in two days. He was laughing at how far he'd fallen, and
wondering how far he still had to fall. 

And it was in that exact moment that James Stampley surrendered
himself to his folly, wherever it might lead him. 

*****************************************************************
**    


James's encounters with Elijah fell into a pleasantly predictable
routine for the next five days. 

Using an old stopwatch James had given him and taught him how to
use, Elijah snuck up to his Master's bedroom every night at nine
o'clock. James was usually lonely and horny following the absence
of his favorite slave-boy, and typically tore off Elijah's
clothes before the boy had the chance to utter a greeting. 

James then enjoyed a couple hours of groping, licking, sucking,
and fucking, collapsing at the end of his climax into a deep but
temporary sleep, suffocating the small boy in his arms. 

If Elijah was lucky, James slept soundly until morning. Most
nights, however, James woke up around two or three in the morning
to push his cock into his sleeping slave-boy's mouth, or poke its
reddish head against the boy's tiny asshole, usually still wet
and squishy from an ass-fucking just a few hours earlier. 

Elijah's favorite part of the routine   in fact, the only part of
the routine from which he derived any satisfaction whatsoever  
was breakfast. The deliciousness of Becky's cooking was only
slightly less amazing to the deprived slave-boy than the apparent
limitlessness of its supply. 

Breakfast was usually followed by another sexual act. This was
then followed by another few hours of sleep as the morning sun
warmed the naked sleeping bodies of Master and slave. 

Around noon, James fetched lunch for himself and Elijah, every
bit as plentiful and tasty as breakfast. 

In the afternoons, James frequently became talkative and
emotional. Depleted of all sexual drive by this point, he usually
began to feel guilty for the preceding hours' abuses. So in those
final afternoon hours, James treated Elijah with extra kindness,
asking the boy countless questions about his life. Elijah usually
answered in reluctant mumbling at first, but grew more eager and
talkative as the afternoon wore on. Regardless of the unpleasant
circumstances, Elijah was a normal teenage boy and loved to talk
about himself, especially to an eager adult listener.  

Who was his best friend? ("Thad, I reckon, then Lil Rooster"). 

What was his favorite food? ("Probably Mama's catfish, but Miss
Becky's biscuits is a close second"). 

What were his biggest fears? (Lightning and Rattlesnakes). 

What did he remember about his father? (his deep voice, the
exciting adventure stories he used to tell him and Thad, the
strange scar across his cheek, the prayer he always used to say
before supper, the way he snored at night after a long day in the
fields, the first time he showed Elijah how to fish, their
subsequent father-son fishing trips every Sunday afternoon). 

Sometimes as he listened to Elijah's cute ramblings, James felt
an overwhelming sense of remorse for the pain he'd caused the
young boy's body and spirit. He longed to restore the boy's
virginity. He wanted to write up manumission papers and send
Elijah, his mother, and little brother off to safety and freedom
in the North. He felt a need to apologize for all the ugly,
brutal things he'd said or done to the boy in the past week. 

But a deeper, darker need had now taken hold of James's mind, a
need to POSSESS the boy COMPLETELY   flesh, mind, and spirit.
Elijah's precocious stories only made this need more urgent and
uncompromising. 

Around 2:30 p.m. each day, James gave Elijah permission to leave,
and the boy dashed off with a hurried, "See ya tomorrow, Massuh
James." James then lay in bed for another fifteen minutes, dizzy
and delirious from the memories of the previous night and day. He
felt as if he were stumbling through a dream; everything seemed
strangely, blissfully surreal. Sometimes he even wondered if he
wasn't falling in love with Elijah. 

James always snapped himself out of these afternoon daydreams by
remembering that Abel could walk in the room at any time after
three o'clock. He stripped the soiled bed-sheets and left them in
a pile for Abel to collect later. After this, James grabbed a
clean set of clothes and headed downstairs for a hot bath. 

He stumbled his way through dinner in a daze, sometimes snapping
out of it long enough to admire the shape of Abel's muscular
teenage ass pressing against the house-boy's silk slacks. 

After dinner, he walked to the main road and back, stretching his
stiff muscles after lounging in bed for hours. Then he suffered
through another hour or two of Mr. Potter's dirty stories and
crude humor, impatient to put out his cigar and return to his
bedroom to await the return of his special slave-boy. 

Elijah's routine was very different. 

After consuming large meals to which his starved body was
unaccustomed, not to mention being pumped full of his Master's
cum, Elijah's first stop was always one of the five outhouses on
the southern border of the slave quarters. After emptying his
bowels, Elijah snuck through the woods to a private spot he'd
found in the creek where the other children never swam or fished.
There he soaked himself in the warm creek water until the smells,
sweat, and crusty cum from his Master was completely washed off.
As soon as he felt like his body, especially his asshole, was
thoroughly clean and prepared for the coming night's ravishing,
Elijah snuck back home and crawled wearily into bed. 

He no longer played with the other children, even when Thad
begged or bribed him with tales of exciting new games or lucky
fishing holes. He rarely slept, but instead stared blankly at the
cabin walls, resigned to his depressing fate as the Master's
"personal slave." 

Phoebe tried to cheer him up when she'd get home from the fields,
singing one of his favorite songs or frying up a catfish Thad had
caught. Sometimes these efforts brought a smile to Elijah's face,
at other times just a distracted, mumbled "Thanks, Mama." 

Deep down he treasured these few hours with his mother and little
brother, but even in these private moments Elijah felt haunted by
Master James's presence. He could only get caught up in a game
with Thad, or one of his mother's stories, for ten, maybe fifteen
minutes before awful visions of the perverted acts he'd been
forced to perform just hours before would plague his restless
young mind. Even in these moments of so-called "freedom," the
reality of his new life weighed him down. He longed to be a
normal, clueless boy like Thad again, but he didn't know if or
how such a return to innocence would ever be possible. 

Usually in the middle of a competitive game, Elijah looked at the
rusty stopwatch in his pocket and realized it was close to nine
o'clock. With an apology to Thad and sad glance at his mother,
Elijah hugged them goodbye and returned to the Big House for
another night of submission to the depraved acts demanded by
Master James. 

Elijah was surprised at how quickly he got used to Master James's
disgusting uses for his young body. His shock and defiance on his
first night with the new Master now seemed like part of another
lifetime. He certainly didn't LIKE the things he was forced to do
  in fact, he still found most of them quite painful and
revolting   but he had learned how to comply, sullenly but
silently. Gross behavior like tongue-kissing, sucking dick, or
taking cock up his shit-hole   activities he never knew EXISTED,
let alone imagined himself actually DOING, just one week ago  
now seemed like things he'd been doing all his life, things he
could do in his sleep if he had to. He knew resistance would only
cause he and his family more suffering, so he simply closed his
eyes, gritted his teeth, and endured his Master's affections as
long as they lasted. 

Sometimes the nightmare lasted for what seemed like hours, until
his jaw-muscles ached and his asshole felt like it had been torn
to shreds. At other times his Master's groping was mercifully,
almost laughably short, the grunts and thrusts coming to an
abrupt end after only two or three sweaty minutes. 

Elijah still cringed inside every time his Master pulled out his
red veiny dick and pushed it against his lips, but his mouth
slowly adjusted to the unnatural feeling of having a big penis
shoved into it. He gradually learned how to relax his jaws and
throat to allow for better access and avoid gagging. He figured
out how he could use his right hand at the base of the dick so
that he wouldn't have to take as much of it into his mouth. He
got into the habit of spitting and slobbering as much as
possible, causing less friction against his lips and mouth, and
making the inevitable later entry into his asshole less painful.
He learned how to balance long, deep suction with short, quick
bobs up and down, or licking up and down the shaft, allowing for
the chance to breathe in between the heavy sucking. And, most
difficult of all, he finally reached the point where he could
swallow all of his Master's dick-juices without choking. 

Elijah still hated the feeling of having a dick crammed into his
shit-hole, but it no longer hurt as intensely as it had the first
couple times. It still shamed and disgusted him every time Master
James mounted him from behind. He wasn't sure why, but he felt
like normal boys didn't take dicks up the butt the way Sophy took
Jacob's dick that afternoon in the barn. He couldn't imagine his
father, or Jacob, or Lil Rooster allowing another man's privates
to be shoved up inside them. 

But at least now the pain wasn't as severe, and he knew what to
expect. The first time the dick pushed past his asshole always
hurt the worst, but after a few excruciatingly painful thrusts,
the burning was replaced by a dull, steady sensation. The only
feeling he could compare it to was taking a huge shit over and
over and over again. He was embarrassed to admit it to himself,
but a couple times he was even surprised to feel PLEASURE from
his Master's thrusting, making his own dangling six inches twitch
and harden. It usually only lasted a few seconds before Master
James shifted positions in a way that replaced the brief pleasure
with the more familiar feeling of pain and violation. Each time
Elijah swore he must be imagining things. 

After being fucked a dozen or more times, Elijah's asshole began
to loosen and accommodate his Master's cock more quickly and
easily. It retained its firm grip, but gradually became more
flexible and cooperative. Elijah also discovered that if he
pushed real hard, as if he was taking a shit, his asshole would
receive its intruder with less pain and difficulty.

James never dreamed a man could have so much sex on a regular
basis, and he loved every minute of it. 

He became addicted to the idea of sex without the seduction and
self-consciousness that surely would have accompanied it if he'd
been pursuing another white man or free Negro in the North. That
kind of sex demanded time and effort, but as a slave-owner he
could take pleasure from Elijah's young body at any time of the
night or day, with just a word or look. And the true beauty of it
was that he never had to consider Elijah's feelings, or worry
about the quality of his own sexual performance. He could be as
quick, clumsy, or adventurous as he wished, and he knew his young
slave-boy couldn't say a word in judgment or protest.

Sometimes James preferred the simple and familiar, settling for a
quick-thrusting blowjob or doggy-style fuck. At other times he
became more imaginative, exploring and degrading his Negro
slave's body in new and exciting ways. 

Sometimes he'd bend Elijah over with the boy's elbows leaning on
the windowsill, and fuck him aggressively as Elijah watched his
pickaninny friends playing in the distance. 

Sometimes he was content just to fuck Elijah with his fingers,
intently watching the boy's pained facial expressions as he
shoved one, two, then three, and one time even FOUR, fingers into
the boy's stretched asshole. He loved feeling the silky warm
squishiness of the boy's insides, and seeing the boy's resentment
when forced to lick his fingers clean afterwards. 

His favorite position, however, was simple. He liked to sit with
his back against the bed's headboard and make Elijah lie flat on
his stomach between his legs and worship his Master's cock and
balls with his mouth. This allowed James to watch Elijah's
clumsy, half-hearted blowjobs, but also have a full view of the
boy's plump upturned buttocks. Sometimes he would lean down to
smack, grab, or knead the boy's fleshy mounds with his hands.
Before long one or two fingers found their way to the sweaty
crevice of Elijah's ass-crack, exploring its hidden treasure in
anticipation of the more brutal plundering to come.

Sometimes James was slow and tender in his lovemaking, entering
Elijah with gradual strokes as he affectionately nibbled on the
boy's ears or neck. At other times he became rough and abusive,
devoted to causing Elijah as much pain and humiliation as
possible. In these frenzies of angry lust, James shouted insults
at Elijah such as "dumb nigger" or "dirty pickaninny bastard" as
he slammed his raging dick into the boy's helpless asshole. 

About a week after his first encounter with Elijah, James grew
frustrated with Elijah's detached attitude toward their times
together. James wasn't stupid. He saw Elijah grimace every time
James pushed his cock in the boy's mouth. He felt Elijah's body
stiffen, then grow limp, every time he climbed on top of him. At
first this resistance had been an enormous turn-on, visible proof
of the boy's innocence. But now James was becoming impatient and
annoyed. 

James was developing a strong attachment to Elijah, but he knew
deep down that his slave-boy felt nothing positive toward him in
return. He realized Elijah was only in his arms each night thanks
to an unfair and inhumane culture that legally and socially
categorized Negroes as nothing more than livestock. James knew
that if given the choice, Elijah would gladly leave and never see
his Master again. 

The fear of whippings or worse forced Elijah to surrender to his
Master's desires, but James realized that FEAR as a motivator
could only find limited success. Fear alone could never make
Elijah love him, or come to his bed with enthusiasm. As things
currently stood, Elijah would never be more than a limp rag-doll
to soak up his cum.

One evening during his post-dinner walk, James came up with a
thrilling idea. 

Perhaps it was time to explore a new aspect of his recently
discovered power as slave-master. He'd witnessed the results of
FEAR on his slave-boy's behavior, but why not try out HOPE
instead? REWARD rather than PUNISHMENT? A devious strategy began
to form in his mind. 

When Elijah came to his room that night, James ordered him to sit
on the edge of the bed. Elijah looked startled; usually he was
already half-naked and covered in his Master's saliva by this
point. James paced back and forth, searching for the right words.


"I want to talk with you about something very serious, Elijah,"
James began. "It's about your father." 

Elijah looked up with surprise and concern. 

"Yes, Massuh?" he asked, trying to conceal the curiosity in his
voice.

"Well, Elijah, I've been thinking," James continued, pulling up a
chair to sit across from the boy. "You've told me a lot of
stories about your father lately, and it's clear you love and
miss him very much." 

Elijah nodded uncomfortably, staring at the ground. None of his
nights with Master James had begun this way.

"I guess what I'm trying to say," James pushed ahead, "is that I
feel bad about what my Uncle Walt did to your family, and I want
to make it up to you." 

Elijah looked up, his brow wrinkled in confusion. "I........I
don't understand, Massuh James."

"What I'm trying to say," James explained softly, taking the
boy's hands in his own, "is that I'm going to do my best to get
your father back." 

Elijah's eyes widened in surprise. He tried to remain calm, but
his heart was already doing somersaults. "I'se confused, Massuh
James." 

"I can't promise anything," James clarified. "But I'll do
everything within my power to bring your father back. I'll write
to the attorney and slave-trader who handled your father's sale,
and see if I can track down who he was sold to. If I'm able to
find out that much, I'll offer good money to buy him back. Double
his real value, if it comes to that."

James wasn't sure how sincere his promises actually were, but he
certainly had the wealth and resources to keep them. He could
worry about that later. Right now all that mattered was making
Elijah believe him.

Elijah stared at his Master, stunned and confused. He tried to
fight back the tears welling up in his eyes. After four years,
he'd nearly given up hope of ever seeing his father again, but
now, without warning or reason, his new Master was rekindling
hope in his heart. It was too strange and good to be true. Why
would his Master want to reunite his family? Perhaps he was a
kind man after all, in spite of the forced sex and occasional
angry words. 

Elijah worked up the nerve to express his doubt. "But........why
you wanna do that, Massuh James?"

"I told you, Elijah," James explained. "I want to fix my Uncle's
mistake. I really do care about you, Elijah. I want to make you
happy. Bringing your father back WILL make you happy, won't it?"

Hope crept into Elijah's suspicious eyes. His mother had always
taught him never to trust anything from a white person's mouth,
but Master James sounded so kind and sincere. Maybe there would
be some happiness in his future after all. 

"Oh, yes, Massuh James!" Elijah said, betraying his optimism.
"That makes me real happy."

"I'm glad to hear that, Elijah," James said. "I'll do everything
I possibly can to find him and bring him back........but I'm
going to need you to do your part." 

Elijah furrowed his brow. 

"My part, Massuh?" He didn't see what he could possibly do to aid
the search for his father.

"Yes, YOUR part," James explained. "From now on, I want you to
show me some ENTHUSIASM in our........times together." 

Elijah's heart sank, and his face fell to the floor. He knew it
was too good to be true. He should have known a white man
wouldn't do nothing good for a Negro without wanting something in
return. 

"Inthoos........enthooshiazm, Massuh James?" Elijah asked,
struggling to pronounce the Master's big word. 

"In other words," James continued, "I want you to PRETEND that
you like what we do together, even if you don't. If you want me
to do everything within MY power to make YOU happy, I expect YOU
to do everything within YOUR power to make ME happy, do you
understand? That's only fair, isn't it?"

James blushed at his shameless emotional manipulation of the
helpless boy, but his dick twitched at the thought that his plan
might actually work. 

Elijah wanted to cry. It was already all he could do to suck his
Master's dick without gagging, or take his Master's dick up his
ass without crying. He didn't think he had it in him to pretend
that he actually LIKED it. 

Maybe his Master's promise was a trick, but what if it wasn't?
What if his father's safe and joyful return really WAS up to him?
Wouldn't it be foolish not to at least TRY? He already let Master
James use his body three, four, sometimes five times a day   how
much harder could it be to smile and moan in fake pleasure while
he was doing it? 

"I........I reckon that's fair, Massuh James," Elijah mumbled. 

James smiled, relieved his plan was working.

"Listen carefully, Elijah," James replied sternly. "I want you to
act like you LOVE everything I make you do. No arguments and no
frowns, you hear? If you fail to put on a convincing show, you
can kiss goodbye all hopes of ever seeing your father again."

"Yes, Massuh James, I'll try my best," Elijah said, trying to
muster up some eagerness in his voice. 

"Well, then, get started, boy," James commanded, eager to see the
results of his new experiment. "Take off my clothes and show me
how a good little nigger-boy sucks dick." 

James tried not to laugh when Elijah first began fumbling with
the buttons on his shirt. The boy seemed more scared and hasty
than eager and willing, but James found himself amused with the
boy's first attempts. It was clear Elijah had the right idea. 

As Elijah clumsily tried to take off his shirt, James pushed the
boy away, stood up, and pulled off all of his own clothes. I can
at least spare him the ordeal of undressing me, James thought
with a chuckle. 

Now completely naked, James lay down on his back, on the bed.
Elijah jumped up and quickly stripped out of his own clothes,
then climbed on top of his naked Master. 

James was thrilled when Elijah pressed his thick Negro lips
against his own and awkwardly tried parting them with his tongue.
James had always initiated the kissing, and Elijah had always
done little more than open his mouth and stiffly receive his
Master's tongue. But now he was licking at his Master's mouth
like a kitten lapping up milk. There was still a stiffness to his
actions, to be sure, but it was obvious the boy was making an
effort.

Elijah tried his best to imitate the way Master James usually
treated him in these situations. He covered James's lips with his
own, slurping at them awkwardly. He swirled his tongue clumsily
around the inside of the man's mouth. He did his best to act as
if he liked it, even humming in pleasure as he'd heard Master
James do so many times while engaged in the same activity. 

Elijah moved his lips to his Master's neck, kissing and licking
his way stiffly down James's body until his mouth was against the
man's red, throbbing cock. Taking a deep breath, Elijah swallowed
it in one huge gulp, choking from the over-eagerness of his first
attempt. Elijah refused to give up, diving back down on his
Master's dick with another full gulp. Taking the base in his
right hand and spitting a wet gob of saliva on the tip of the
dick, Elijah rapidly sucked up and down, up and down, quickly
getting his Master's dick slick and hot with his spit and warm
breath. 

Elijah's sucking had never been so intense. There was no need for
James to grab the back of the boy's head or hump his face, for
this time Elijah was doing an extraordinary job on his own. The
boy even moaned as he eagerly sucked up and down. James knew
Elijah was performing, acting purely out of self-interest, but
that was part of the erotic thrill. For James, the excitement lay
in his power to make Elijah perform degrading acts and pretend
like he enjoyed them. 

James felt a sadistic compulsion to test the limits of Elijah's
cooperation. 

Placing his hands beneath his own head and grinning broadly,
James taunted, "You like sucking your Master's white cock,
nigger?" 

Elijah winced, but hoped James hadn't noticed. He was already
doing his best. Why couldn't his Master just leave him alone? But
Elijah was desperate to earn his father's return, and a powerful
incentive such as the one James placed before Elijah could compel
one to do almost anything   especially a poor teenage slave boy
with so few hopes for the future. 

Elijah pulled his mouth off his Master's dick, a stream of saliva
running down his chin. He looked up and gave James the widest,
most convincing smile he could muster. 

"Oh, yes, Massuh, your thing taste real good, Massuh. Better than
Becky's biscuits." 

James laughed at the boy's corny creativity. "So your pickaninny
mouth likes white dick, huh, boy?!? Better than fried chicken?
Better than WATERMELON?!?"

Elijah cringed but played along. "Oh, yessuh, Massuh James, I sho
likes the taste of your dick. More than anything, Massuh, more
than watermelon!" 

He resumed his animated sucking as if to prove his point. When he
felt like he could hardly breathe, he'd take long licks up and
down the shaft of James's dick, moaning in pleasure like he was
tasting Christmas candy. 

"Lick my balls!" James commanded, enjoying the boy's enthusiastic
servility more than any of the preceding week's pleasures.

Elijah obeyed, burying his nose against James's large balls
reeking of sweat and semen. He closed his eyes in disgust, but
pretended like he was enjoying a delicious meal. 

James closed his eyes in ecstasy at the feel of Elijah's nervous
warm breath on his balls. 

"That's right, nigger," James barked, putting on a performance of
his own. "This will teach you your proper place in the world.
Nigger lips and nigger tongue were made for the white man's
balls. What are you, boy?!?"

Elijah was confused by the question. 

"A slave, Massuh?" Elijah answered, hoping it was the expected
reply. 

"I want to hear you tell me what you ARE!" James demanded.

"I'se a........I'se just a nigger, I 'spose, Massuh," Elijah
replied sullenly, still lapping at his Master's balls. 

"You're damn right you're a nigger, but what KIND of nigger?!?"
James taunted. He realized with more amusement than guilt how
much he was beginning to sound like Mr. Potter.

Elijah wanted to cry, but kept a silly grin on his face. 

"I'se just a dumb, dirty nigger," he confessed. 

"A dumb, dirty nigger who likes to lick white men's balls!" James
added. 

"You'se right, Massuh James," Elijah agreed. 

"Say it!" James ordered. 

"I'se a dumb, dirty nigger who likes to lick white men's balls,
cuz they sho do taste good, Massuh James," Elijah declared,
sucking his Master's balls into his mouth. 

Caught up in his sadistic frenzy, James decided to present Elijah
with the ultimate test of his feigned enthusiasm.

"Lick my asshole!" James barked. 

Elijah clenched his eyes shut in disbelief and disgust. He
remembered how good it felt when James had done that to him
several days earlier, but the idea of actually licking another
person's shit-hole was repulsive. It was the place where farts
and shit came out. He thought of the foul odors of the slave
quarter outhouses. 

Not this, he thought to himself. Anything but this. 

"Please, Massuh," Elijah begged. "I'se doin' my best to make you
happy, but please don't make me do that! I'll do anything you
wants me to, anything but that."

James was annoyed at having the illusion of enthusiasm disrupted.


"Do you want to see your father again or not?!?" he growled. "You
heard what I said   lick my ass, nigger!"

Elijah knew he had no choice but to cooperate. Wanting to get it
over with as soon as possible, he moved his tongue lower until it
nervously poked at the older white man's pink wrinkled asshole.
Elijah was surprised that it was pink instead of brown. He was
also surprised to find that his Master's ass smelled no worse
than a mixture of sweat and soap. Still, it was a gross thing to
do, and he tried his hardest to put from his mind what it was he
was actually doing   kneeling between his Master's legs and
licking the older white man's asshole like it was the most
natural thing in the world!

"Come on, nigger, you can do better than that," James insisted.
"Eat my ass like it's corn-on-the-cob, boy!"

Elijah tried to ratchet up his energy level. He lapped at his
Master's asshole with deep, long strokes of his tongue, followed
by quick, awkward pokes at the center of his Master's pucker.
After more of James's scolding, he began biting and slurping on
it as his Master had done a few days before. He spit on the
winking asshole and spread the saliva around with his tongue. He
even tried to push his small red tongue deeper into his Master's
ass   something he never in a million years thought he could ever
be made to do! 

The sight, sounds, and sensations of Elijah eagerly slurping on a
grown man's asshole for the very first time was too much for
James's aroused body. With barely a warning, his dick shot
streams of white cum into the air, splattering down onto Elijah's
hair, eyes, nose, lips, and chin. 

Realizing what was happening, Elijah dutifully moved to drink the
final few spurts of semen from his Master's dick. With no coaxing
from James, he also began licking the cum from around his lips,
even scooping some up off his forehead and feeding it to himself.


"Taste good, nigger?" James asked, laughing at the boy's
cum-drenched face. 

"Sho do, Massuh James. Your stuff taste better than mine,
Massuh," Elijah lied. 

"Come here, boy. Lay on top of me," James instructed. 

Elijah sprawled his naked brown body across his Master, the sweat
of their stomachs sticking together. 

"You did a real good job, Elijah," James said in a kinder tone of
voice, stroking the back of Elijah's tangled nappy hair. "Keep it
up and you'll be seeing your father in no time." 

*****************************************************************
******

The charade continued for three more days. 

Elijah devoured his Master's dick like a rabid dog. He smiled and
nodded and verbally agreed with the most offensive insults. He
begged his Master to fuck his tight nigger ass, and moaned in
exaggerated pleasure no matter how much his rectum was burning in
pain. At night he lay awake imagining what the reunion with his
father would be like, and in those moments all the day's
degradations seemed worth it. 

Despite his best efforts, Elijah's performance as the eager,
willing slave boy wasn't flawless. He was a sensitive teenage
boy, after all, and even the most jaded adults have trouble
concealing their true feelings every waking moment. James
occasionally caught flashes of defiance in Elijah's eyes, or
winces of pain or disgust. 

The novelty of his latest experiment began to wear off, and James
realized there was no power or threat within the slave-master's
reach that could compel a slave to reciprocate feelings of lust
or love. A slave could be raped, whipped, degraded, manipulated,
sold, and even killed, but could never be forced to love. 

Rather than help him see the futility of his behavior, Elijah's
rejection only made James feel powerless, then angry and
resentful as a result of that powerlessness. 

One morning James awoke from his sleep to the sound of sniffling.
He opened his eyes to see Elijah resting in a fetal position on
the far side of the bed, facing the bedroom windows that
overlooked the slave quarters. It was obvious the boy had been
crying. 

"What's wrong, boy?" James asked coldly. The tears might have
inspired sympathy just a few days earlier, but now they merely
provoked annoyance. 

"Nothin', Massuh," Elijah said quietly. "Just a bad dream, I
reckon." 

James knew the boy was lying and wanted to hear the truth,
regardless of how it might hurt his fragile ego. 

"Go ahead, Elijah, you can tell me what's the matter," he said in
as kind a voice as he could muster.

Elijah hesitated. 

"I 'spose I just miss my little brother," he mumbled. "This the
best time to fish, so I reckon that's what put my mind to it." 

James felt a pang of jealousy, then anger. Suddenly he was struck
with a tempting idea. Turning it over in his mind, temptation
quickly evolved into full-fledged obsession.

"If you miss your little brother so much," James said hurriedly,
before his conscience could scare him away from the idea that had
taken shape in his mind, "then I think it's about time I invite
him to join in on our fun."

Elijah felt dread stabbing at his stomach. He cringed to think
that his own careless words had planted such an idea in James's
mind.

Elijah tried to sound calm and collected: "Oh, no, Massuh, he
probably busy with the other boys anyway. I'll be okay, Massuh
James, don't worry about me. I'se ungrateful to say such a thing,
Massuh."

But James was already past the point of no return: "No, I think
I've made up my mind, Elijah. You've told me so much about your
little brother, it's only fair I meet him, right? Besides, I'm
sure he'd love to see what HE could do to bring his father back
again, wouldn't he?" 

Elijah shuddered at the creepy sound of his Master's voice. How
could he have been so nave as to think his little brother was
safe from the Master's weird cravings? Was he so cocky that he
thought the Master would never desire other slave boys, including
Thad? But Thad was only ten years old! Surely the Master wouldn't
force a CHILD to do such nasty things?  

Elijah turned over and faced Master James, staring directly in
the man's eyes for what felt like the very first time.

"Please, Massuh James," Elijah pleaded, a stray tear running down
his face. "Don't do nothin' to Thad! He my only brother, Massuh,
and he just a little boy. I been the man since Daddy got sold
away, but Thad........Thad ain't never had to be a man, he only
ten, he ain't ready for the stuff a man like me can do. I'll do
ANYTHING you want, Massuh James, ANYTHING........just please
don't do nothin' to my little brother!" 

"Oh, I have no plans to HURT him," James replied with a devilish
grin. "I just want to meet him, see if he's as handsome as you.
Show him what the two of us been up to for the past week. You
don't want to keep secrets from your baby brother, now do you?" 

James was enjoying this sadistic high. If Elijah wouldn't love
him willingly, James would possess the boy in the only other way
possible   through shame and forced obedience. James knew that
even if he didn't lay a hand on Thad, having his little brother
as a witness to his rape would humiliate Elijah for life.   

Elijah was sobbing now. It was the first time James had seen him
break down and cry since their first encounter over a week ago. 

"Why are you doing this?" Elijah kept sobbing over and over. "Why
are you doing this to me?"

"Don't be so melodramatic," James shrugged. "What I'm doing to
you is far kinder than anything you'd feel under the overseers'
whips in the fields." 

James was actually beginning to believe his own justifications
for the ways he was hurting Elijah. 

"Besides," he continued. "I'm going to reunite you with your
father, remember?!?" 

Elijah sniffled, remembering the only glimmer of hope in his
bleak adolescent life. 

Was the potential reunion with his father worth the steep price
of introducing his little brother to the Master's brutality?
Could he trust Master James's word? His father could be dead, and
Master James might already know it. But was that a gamble he was
willing to make? Even if it was only a faint possibility, was it
a chance he could turn his back on? 

Besides, Elijah reasoned with himself, if Master James truly
wants Thad, he'll take him with or without his cooperation. And
if his little brother's corruption was inescapable, wouldn't it
be better for him to be present? Wouldn't Thad need his stronger
older brother to coach and comfort him through the nightmare? 

"It's your choice," James stated matter-of-factly. "Bring your
brother to my room in one hour, or you'll never see your father
again." 

Elijah wiped his tears with the back of his hand. He knew he had
no choice but to obey his Master's orders. 

"Yes, Massuh James," Elijah said softly. "I'll........I mean
we'll be here in one hour." 

Without another word, Elijah climbed out of bed, threw on his
clothes, looked at the rusty stopwatch in his pocket, and ran
from the Big House toward the slave quarters. 

*****************************************************************
*******  

Five days earlier, Thad had gotten into the first fistfight of
his ten-year-old life.

The rumor had been spreading throughout the slave quarters that
his older brother Elijah was spending most of his time in the Big
House. 

Some of the children believed he'd been hired as a house-slave.
Others guessed that he was going to be sold, and that the Master
was feeding him night and day to bulk him up and get the most for
his money. The more imaginative children speculated that Elijah
had secretly murdered the new Master, hidden his body, and was
now in charge of Stampley Plantation. 

Thad never knew how to respond to his friends' eager questions.
All Elijah had told him was that he was the new Master's personal
slave, but Thad knew there was more to it than that. Most people
in the slave quarters envied the slaves in the Big House, but his
mother's and brother's behavior didn't make it seem like Elijah's
new job was anything to celebrate. In fact, Thad was sure that
whatever it was the new Master made his brother do, it must be
pretty awful. Maybe Elijah had to scrub floors or shovel
horseshit out of the barn. Maybe he had to fan the Master for
hours at a time. But what puzzled Thad was that even the worst
chores he could imagine didn't seem worthy of the tears he
witnessed on his mother's and brother's faces every night. 

Other than Elijah's absence from the daily games, swimming, and
fishing, everything had seemed pretty normal until Lil Rooster
opened his big yellow mouth. 

A few of the boys were hanging out in a field behind the slave
quarters after a rowdy game of "catch a nigger." 

Out of nowhere, Lil Rooster said, "Hey, Thad........I hear 'Lij
been turned into the new massuh's pussy. That true???"

Thad whirled around in surprise. He didn't know exactly what
"pussy" meant, but he knew it had something to do with girls, and
calling another boy a girl was the gravest of insults. 

"That ain't true at all, and you know it!" Thad said defiantly.
"Take it back!"

"Awwwww, is baby brother stickin' up for the new massuh's
pussy-boy?" 

At almost 15 years of age, Lil Rooster was the resident bully of
the slave quarters, but all the kids looked up to him. Folks said
he'd gotten his name from the way he squawked like a rooster when
he was born, but since that time he'd also taken on the strutting
confidence that his name suggested. 

A lot of his cockiness was due to his looks. He had piercing blue
eyes, high-yellow skin, a full head of black, "good" hair, full
lips, and strong, high cheekbones that made him look both
masculine and feminine. Rumor had it that he was a mix of white,
Negro, and Indian. 

Even at his young age, Lil Rooster already had a reputation as a
lady's man. Gossip circulated that at 13 he'd seduced Miss Bessy,
who was more than twice his age and married at the time, and
hadn't stopped bedding females of all ages since. Out of that
rumor came another rumor that he had the biggest dick of any man
on the plantation. Some even said that his mother named him the
second she saw her newborn baby's enormous cock. 

Needless to say, all these rumors combined to make Lil Rooster an
intimidating but popular presence among the slave children. 

"I thought you was his friend," Thad protested. "You ain't
supposed to be talkin' 'bout him behind his back. Who told you
that rotten lie anyway?!?"

"My Mama," Lil Rooster claimed convincingly. 

Thad was speechless for a second, trying to think of what to
say.

"I heard her last night," Lil Rooster continued. "She was tellin'
Daddy 'bout how the new massuh likes to put his thing in boys
'stead of girls. And how he took a liking to 'Lij and made him a
full-time pussy-boy. He probably up in the Big House suckin'
Massuh's dick right now!"

Thad was confused and angry. He didn't understand half of Lil
Rooster's accusations, but he knew they were ugly, hurtful lies.
He tried to picture his brother's mouth on another man's penis,
and the whole idea seemed absurd beyond belief to his sheltered
mind. 

"That ain't nothin' but an ugly low-down lie and you knows it!"
Thad shouted. 

He ran over to Lil Rooster and shoved him with all the strength
his little body could muster. Lil Rooster was caught off guard
and fell to the ground laughing, sprawled on his back. 

"Calm down, baby brother!" Lil Rooster said, grinning the big
smile that had already charmed half the females on the
plantation. "I'se only repeatin' what I heard. It ain't your
fault if 'Lij turned sissy on us! It don't make YOU a cocksucker,
do it?" 

The other boys looked to see what Thad would say. The young boy
stuttered to come up with a worthy response.

"Or do it?" Lil Rooster asked again, laughing and grabbing the
huge bulge in his crotch. 

He decided to take his teasing to another level. 

"Hey, Moses, come over here!" he called out. 

A cute kid about Thad's age with charcoal-black skin ran over to
Lil Rooster's side. 

"You be 'Lij, and I'll be the new Massuh," Lil Rooster suggested
in a mischievous tone of voice. 

He pushed Moses down on all fours, dropped to his knees behind
him, grabbed him by the hips, and began grinding into the boy's
tiny upturned buttocks with exaggerated thrusts. 

"Oh, Elijah!!!!" Lil Rooster cried out, throwing his head back in
the air. In a melodramatic motion he moved his hand across his
forehead, as if wiping sweat from his brow. 

"I DECLARE!" he exclaimed in an accent he thought sounded like
the few white men he'd encountered. "I believes this be the best
nigger pussy I done ever tried! How DOES you make your pussy so
tight?!?" 

He accelerated his comical pumping against Moses's backside until
the two boys collapsed on their backs on the grass, laughing
hysterically. The other slave boys were laughing too, even those
like Thad who didn't completely get the joke. 

All Thad knew was that he wasn't about to let anybody call his
big brother a girl, especially a WHITE MAN'S girl. 

With Lil Rooster flat on his back, Thad saw his chance. Shouting
at the top of his lungs, he straddled Lil Rooster's chest and
began pounding away at the older teen's face with his fists. He
was only able to get in a few good punches, however, before the
bigger boy grabbed him by the throat and flipped him on his back.
Thad knew he didn't stand a chance, but he continued screaming
like a madman and throwing kicks and punches in every direction.


Lil Rooster held him down by the shoulders as if he were pinching
a butterfly between his fingers. He had an amused smile on his
face. 

"Don't you ever fuckin' hit me again, you hear?" Lil Rooster
warned. "I was just fuckin' with you anyway. I hope I'se wrong
about the whole thing anyhow. We ALL best hopes I be wrong about
it," he added softly, looking around at the other boys. 

None of the boys had been the same around Thad since that day.
They still talked to him and played with him, but they seemed
cautious and suspicious in a way Thad had never noticed before.
Almost like he was sick or something. 

He didn't tell his mother about the fight, figuring she had
enough to worry about. He'd been lucky that Lil Rooster had left
nothing more than a small red mark on his neck. 

Thad began sleeping in late, and playing alone more often. He
missed his older brother, and hated how drastically his life had
changed in just one week's time. He didn't see his older brother
as much anymore, and when he did see him, Elijah never played or
laughed like he used to. His mother cried all the time, even
though she thought he couldn't tell. And now the friends he'd
grown up with were treating him like he had cooties. 

On the morning five days after his fight with Lil Rooster, Thad
was just getting out of bed when Elijah burst through the cabin
door. His hair was sticking up all over the place, and he looked
like he'd been running from a ghost. 

"What's the matter, 'Lij?" Thad asked in surprise. 

Elijah didn't answer at first. He stared blankly ahead, like he
was trying to decide what to say. 

"Massuh James is gonna help us find Daddy!" Elijah blurted out,
his face breaking into a huge smile. "He's gonna track him down
and bring him back to us, right back to this cabin!"

Thad's eyes shot wide open. Then he started jumping up and down,
hopping all across the cabin's dirt floor and screaming for joy
at the top of his lungs. Suddenly he stopped and looked at his
older brother with confusion. 

"But 'Lij, that's like the bestest news ever!!! So why you look
like you done seen a ghost when you walked in?"

Elijah's smile turned once again to a troubled frown when he
remembered the high price he and his brother would have to pay
for their reward. 
"Ummmmm........" Elijah stuttered, not sure how to prepare his
little brother for the trials to come. "Before Massuh helps us,
he wants........he wants me to bring you with me to the Big
House." 

Thad's mouth dropped open in surprise. 

"The new Massuh wants ME?!? He wants both of us??? What for???"
he asked, trying to wrap his young brain around the circumstances
closing in on him. 

"I reckon he wants another personal slave," Elijah explained,
feeling ashamed of himself for lying to his little brother. He
was afraid if he explained the total truth all at once, Thad
would run screaming from the room and never come back. Elijah
didn't want to spoil their one slim chance at reuniting their
family. 

"Sometimes........sometimes he makes me do gross things," Elijah
added guiltily, looking at the floor. "He might ask you to do
gross things too, but the thing is, Thad, we gotta do 'em or
we'll never see Daddy again!" 

Thad felt a pit growing in his ten-year-old stomach. What did
Elijah mean by "gross things"? Was Lil Rooster right about his
big brother after all? And did that mean the Master was going to
turn HIM into a "pussy-boy" too???

"I dunno, 'Lij," Thad said with a little boy's fear in his voice.
"I'se scared. I'se more scared than I get when it thunders at
night. Massuh ain't gonna hurt us, is he?"

"Naw, he ain't gonna hurt us," Elijah said guiltily. "Besides,
I'll be with you the whole time, and I ain't gonna let nothin'
bad happen to you."

Elijah wanted to cry. He was betraying his own brother, handing
him over to the enemy when what he should be doing was taking his
little brother in his arms and protecting him from nasty white
men like Master James. 

"Listen, we ain't got much time," Elijah explained. "Do exactly
what I tell you, you hear? Take Mama's soap and wash up in the
creek. Wash REAL GOOD, the way Mama likes when she rubs her
fingers in our ears. Then meet me in front of the Big House. And
HURRY!!! Massuh James is waitin'." 

Thad fetched his mother's soap, gave his older brother a quick
hug goodbye, and ran toward the creek. 

He recalled Lil Rooster's taunting about "pussy-boys" and
"cocksuckers." The image of Lil Rooster rubbing his crotch
against Moses's rear-end flashed through his mind. He remembered
his mother's screams on the first night they took Elijah away. He
wondered why Elijah had been so insistent that he bathe in the
creek first.

Thad's little-boy-body shuddered in fear as his innocent mind
struggled to picture the possibilities. 

But hadn't the Master promised to help them find their father?
Didn't that mean he was a kind and generous man? With a Master
like that, the afternoon couldn't be TOO bad, could it?

*****************************************************************
*****


James sat fully clothed on the edge of his bed, the same way he
had on the first night he met Elijah. Standing in the middle of
the floor, facing him, were Elijah and Thad, visibly scared, the
older brother with his arm around the younger. 

"This my little brother Thad, Massuh James," Elijah said in a
nervous voice. 

Thad looked sheepishly at the ground, scared to utter a word. He
was still in shock from his walk up the marble staircase, having
never been inside such a big and fancy home in his entire life. 

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Thad," James said, grinning. 

Thad's looks far exceeded his highest expectations. Ten-year-old
boys were definitely on the low end of the spectrum of what James
typically found attractive, but for some reason Negro boys Thad's
age were far more appealing than white boys the same age. And for
a little boy still years away from puberty, Thad was strikingly
good-looking. One could only tell the two boys were related by
looking closely, and Thad's looks far surpassed his older
brother's in attractiveness. His hair was cut close to his head
in a thin layer of crispy Negro curls. His skin was a lighter
shade of brown than Elijah's, more like the color of coffee with
lots of extra cream. He had a small, bony build, typical of a
ten-year-old Negro boy and without an ounce of body fat. Two
tempting round curves filled out the back of the boy's pants, so
tiny that James could cover the boy's ass with the width of one
hand. He had the cutest little button-nose, smaller than his
brother's and without the wide, flared nostrils typical of
African ancestry. His lips were a rich dark red, full but thinner
than Elijah's. The boy clearly has white blood running somewhere
in his veins, James thought to himself. 

"Come here, boy, and stand in front of me," James ordered kindly
but firmly. 

Thad looked up at his older brother as if asking permission.
Elijah nodded his assent, but seemed reluctant to release Thad's
arm. Thad walked slowly over to James and stood before him. 

"Let me have a look at you," James said, shaking in anticipation
of what he might do with the helpless boy's little body. He was
feeling bolder and more relaxed than his first time with Elijah.
He reached up and took the boy's face firmly in both hands,
running his fingers sensuously across the contours of the boy's
face as if he were a blind man struggling to feel out a
stranger's appearance. 

Thad's body tensed at the white man's touch, but he was still too
terrified to say anything. 

Elijah winced as he watched his Master pet his little brother
like a puppy.

James pulled Thad closer to him, so close that the front of
Thad's body pressed tightly against James's crotch. Thad could
smell coffee and biscuits on the man's breath. 

"Did your brother tell you why he brought you here today?" James
asked, curious to know the extent of Thad's innocence. 

"He says you wants another slave for yourself, Massuh," Thad
answered, looking back at his older brother for approval. Elijah
nodded nervously and looked away. 

James laughed at Elijah's half-truth.

"I guess in a way you're right," James said, smiling wickedly.
"Your brother's been doing some real good work for me this past
week, but he told me you'd be even BETTER suited to what I'm
looking for." 

Elijah started to speak up in protest, but James continued
talking over him. 

"Your brother tells me you and him like to play games, Thad. So
consider today a game. A competition between brothers to see who
can please your Master more. Doesn't that sound like fun?"

"I reckon, Massuh James," Thad mumbled, still staring at the
floor. He had a strong sense that he was being lied to.

"I'm afraid I'm going to need to see more excitement than that
before the day's over," James added sternly. "If I'm pleased by
BOTH of you, I'll keep my promise to bring your father home. You
do want to see your father again, don't you?" 

As James said this, he reached his hands around the boy and
cupped Thad's tiny round buttocks in his hands. Their smallness
was surprisingly appealing to James.  They were the tightest,
firmest two mounds of flesh he'd ever touched. James had no doubt
he was the first man to touch Thad in this way, and his dick
sprung to life at the thought of touching, tasting, and tearing
open what must be the tiniest and tastiest of treasures hidden
just beyond the boy's clenched butt-crack. 

Thad's entire body stiffened defensively, but he didn't say a
word. It felt weird to be standing so close to his Master. It
felt wrong to have the man's hands groping his bottom. Thad
wondered if having another man touch your bottom automatically
turned him into a "pussy-boy." 

"I wants to see my Daddy again real bad, Massuh James," Thad
mumbled, trying to ignore James's intrusive touching. 

"Good!" James smiled. "Do everything I say, and you'll have your
father back in no time. What do you say, Elijah, don't you think
it's time we teach your little brother here a few things?" 

James pushed Thad aside, walked to the other side of the room,
grabbed a wooden chair by the window, and placed it in the center
of the floor, facing the bed. 

"Have a seat, Thad," James ordered, motioning the boy to the
chair. 

Thad gave Elijah a confused look, then slowly walked to the chair
and sat down. 

Elijah was frozen to the floor, terrified of what would happen
next. He kept his eyes glued to the ground, hoping that by
avoiding eye contact he could somehow postpone the inevitable. 

James crossed the floor to Elijah, grabbed him firmly by the back
of the neck, and guided him to the edge of the bed. James sat on
the edge of the bed and pulled Elijah into a sitting position
between his legs, both males facing the perplexed and petrified
Thad. 

"Watch carefully, Thad," James instructed. "I'm going to show you
what your new Master likes to do with cute nigger boys like
yourself." 

Thad tensed at the sound of the ugly word, looking on in dread
and curiosity.

James began licking and biting the back and sides of Elijah's
sweaty brown neck. 

Elijah looked at the floor and closed his eyes, hoping this was a
bad dream from which he'd soon awake. 

As James nuzzled Elijah's face and neck, he slowly unbuttoned
Elijah's shirt, watching Thad intently as he did so. The
unfolding scenario was erotic beyond his wildest imagination. He
quickly realized that the only thing more thrilling than taking a
young Negro boy was taking a young Negro boy in front of his
younger and more innocent little brother.  

Thad was confused and distressed. Why was Master James holding
and kissing his brother the same way he saw the older slave men
sometimes hold and kiss their wives?

James spread open Elijah's shirt and pulled it off the boy's arms
and back. He increased the intensity of his kisses and rubbed his
hands all over Elijah's naked chest, brown and shiny with sweat.
He eagerly untied the string fastened through Elijah's
pants-waist, pushed Elijah into a standing position, then yanked
the boy's pants to the floor. 

Stepping out of them, Elijah now stood completely naked before
his little brother. Elijah looked at the floor in shame.

Thad looked away, embarrassed for his brother and increasingly
uncomfortable with the direction of the morning's activities. Of
course he'd seen Elijah naked plenty of times before, but this
was the first time it ever felt strange and shameful. 

"What do you think of your brother's dick?" James asked Thad
playfully. 

Thad looked to his brother for some sign as to how to answer. His
brother's eyes were clenched shut. 

"I don't know, Massuh James. Looks like it's 'sposed to, I
reckon," Thad answered matter-of-factly. 

James laughed at the boy's diplomatic answer. 

"You'll be mighty lucky if yours ever grows this big," James
continued. "This is what white folks call a REAL nigger dick.
Thick and long and straight from the jungles of Africa. Your big
brother's gonna make some girls real happy one of these days." 

James sat Elijah back down between his legs and fondled the boy's
soft six inches. 

Thad gasped when he saw this. Boys and men weren't supposed to
touch each other that way. But for some reason, he couldn't look
away. The whole thing felt like a blurry dream. 

Impatient with Elijah's stubbornly soft dick, James pushed him
back into a standing position, whirled him around so his backside
was facing Thad, and then shoved his head down so low that it was
nearly touching the floor. Elijah grunted in protest, uncertain
what his Master was trying to do. The curves of Elijah's ass  
rounder and fleshier than his little brother's   now jutted into
the air. 

James stood up and violently spread Elijah's ass-cheeks with both
hands, exposing the boy's shy wrinkled pucker to his little
brother's shocked eyes. 

It was the first anus Thad had ever seen. He was only barely
aware of his own anus's existence, and certainly had never had
any desire or expectation to see another boy's anus, especially
not his brother's. Thad stared at the place where his brother's
shit comes out, wrinkled his nose in disgust, and wondered why
the new Master was showing it to him.

"You turn up your nose, Thad, but this right here is a nigger
boy's most prized possession," James explained, smiling
lecherously. "You have no idea how many men have probably looked
at your brother's ass when he's walked through the slave quarters
or played with the other pickaninnies, wishing they could be
right where I'm standing this very moment." 

Thad looked away, embarrassed and disbelieving. 

Elijah gritted his teeth and stared in deep, blushing humiliation
at the dirty floor just inches from his face. Bent over and legs
spread, Elijah felt like his body was going to snap in two. It
felt weird to have his asshole exposed to his little brother.

James continued: "Of course nobody talks about it, but it's the
part of a cute boy lots of men wish they could see and touch. You
don't know it yet, but your own little asshole's probably going
to provide a lot of pleasure to many men over the next few years.
Hell, it might even give YOU some pleasure if you learn to take
the dick right."

Thad was utterly confused. For the life of him he couldn't
understand how his shit-hole could ever bring anybody pleasure.
Pieces of a disturbing puzzle floated through his virgin brain,
but he couldn't put them together in a way that made any sense.
He saw his brother's winking asshole just a few feet away. He
knew from Master James's speech that dicks had something to do
with the pleasure. He recalled Lil Rooster's exaggerated
impression of a white man complimenting Moses's tight "nigger
pussy." It vaguely seemed to connect with Master James's words,
but he still couldn't solve the mystery. He wasn't sure he wanted
to. 

"Just three weeks ago, I was one of those men drooling over the
butts of Negro boys like you and Elijah," James confessed. He
knew Thad couldn't care less, but he relished his power to
corrupt the boy's mind with his words. 

"I was too scared to do anything about it........until now, that
is. You're my slave, meaning I can do anything I want with you.
Some Masters enjoy whipping their niggers........but me, I prefer
other pleasures."

His eyes still locked on Thad, James spit crudely on his right
hand's index finger. Parting Elijah's ass-crack with his left
hand, James shoved the entire length of his finger into Elijah's
dry asshole. 

Elijah cried out from the unexpected pain. He could see between
his parted legs Thad's expression of disgust and dismay. The
younger boy's mouth literally hung open in shock. 

Thad couldn't understand why any grown man would want to put
their fingers in the place where a boy's shit comes out,
especially when it seemed to be causing Elijah so much pain. 

"Stop, Massuh James! You hurtin' my brother, Massuh!" Thad
started to jump up in protest. 

"Don't forget your FATHER, Thad," James reminded the boy loudly,
stopping Thad in his tracks. 

Thad leaned down to see his brother's face through Elijah's
spread legs. "You okay, 'Lij?" 

"I'se okay, Thad," Elijah muttered sullenly. "Do what Massuh
James tells you, else he ain't gonna let us see Daddy." 

Thad hopped his tiny body back up on the chair, squirming
uncomfortably. 

James pushed his finger in and out of Elijah's ass, making gross
squishy noises that sounded like little farts. James spit on his
middle finger, then pushed both his index and middle finger into
Elijah's stretched asshole. He closed his eyes and sighed with
pleasure at the exquisite feeling of the teenage boy's warm,
slimy insides. 

Thad thought the new Master must be insane if he actually ENJOYED
such nasty behavior. 

Spitting again onto his fingers, James slid THREE fingers into
the bent-over Elijah, whose low groans expressed the intense pain
of the intrusion. James thrust his fingers in and out of the
boy's asshole, which sucked tightly and noisily at his fingers. 

James's dick was rock-hard from the feel of the young slave boy's
taut sweaty body arched beside him, as well as the psychological
thrill of corrupting Elijah's ten-year-old brother. 

James pulled his fingers from out of Elijah's ass, yanked Elijah
upright by his wooly tangled hair, turned him around to face his
little brother, then rudely shoved his messy fingers into
Elijah's mouth. Elijah cried out in protest. 

Thad's entire body convulsed in disgust at the sight, and he
lifted both arms to cover his eyes. He felt sorry for his older
brother, but a guilty part of him deep down inside was glad it
was Elijah licking the man's slimy fingers rather than him. 

James laughed in amusement at Thad's expected (and desired)
reaction. 

"No need to cover your eyes, boy," James explained. "I'm sure
your brother's butt-juices are delicious. Why don't you tell us,
Elijah? How do they taste?" 

Elijah wanted to disappear. He knew what his Master wanted to
hear, and knew he had to play along no matter how much it might
shame him in front of his little brother. 

"They taste real good, Massuh James," Elijah mumbled quietly, the
fingers still jammed in his mouth mangling his words. 

Thad looked up at his brother in disgusted surprise. 

"See, I told you so, Thad," James teased. "Now watch your big
brother show you what a nigger boy's asshole is REALLY good for."


James shoved Elijah down to all fours on the dirty wooden floor,
just four or five feet from the boy's little brother. James
hastily stripped off his own shirt, pants, and shoes until he was
standing completely naked in front of the stunned little
ten-year-old. 

Thad had never seen a white man naked before, and the sight both
repulsed and fascinated him. The man's skin looked so pale
compared to the complexions he was accustomed to, and his dick
looked red and veiny, like those he'd seen a few times jutting
out of dogs in heat. Thad felt amused pride when he realized his
big brother's penis was almost as big soft as his Master's was
hard. 

James dropped to his knees between Elijah's legs. He spit into
his right hand, smeared the saliva on the dick jutting in front
of him, and thrust it violently into Elijah's asshole. 

"What the........?!?" Thad cried out in sincere surprise.
Suddenly Lil Rooster's obnoxious charade made complete sense. The
ten-year-old stared at the sight before him as if aliens had just
dropped from the sky. 

James held Elijah's hips tightly in both hands as he pumped
furiously into the rectum of the slave boy below him. He reached
for a pillow from the bed and placed it beneath his knees, giving
him greater comfort and a better angle for his pummeling of the
boy's brown bubble butt. He could hear Elijah panting and
groaning with every brutal thrust. 

Thad looked on, appalled and entranced. 

"Little Thad looks sort of scared," James told Elijah in the
midst of his own heavy breathing. "Tell your little brother how
your Master's dick feels!"

Elijah's head was smashed against the floor as James slammed into
his body from behind. He was looking away from his brother in
complete embarrassment. 

"It feel real nice, Thad," Elijah moaned unconvincingly. 

"You can do better than that," James barked, harshly smacking
Elijah's right butt-cheek. 

"Oh, man, Thad, there ain't no feelin' like this in the world!"
Elijah moaned. "Fuck my ass, Massuh. Fuck the shit out of me,
Massuh James!" 

"Tell your little brother who you are, boy!" James demanded
sadistically. 

Elijah's body stiffened with shame. 

"I'se just a low-down no-good nigger who loves white cocks shoved
in my ass!" 

Thad couldn't believe his eyes and ears. It pained him deeply to
see his big brother, who'd always seemed so strong and masculine
in his eyes, abused and degraded in this way. And it disappointed
him to see the proud brother he respected say such filthy things,
things he hoped he didn't mean. He wanted to rescue his brother
from his nightmare, but felt tiny and helpless compared to the
angry older white man. 

Elijah was trying hard to fight back his tears. He turned his
head to his brother and tried to communicate with his eyes that
his words were empty lies, spoken solely to satisfy Master James.
But Thad's eyes seemed magnetically drawn to the Master's dick
pumping in and out of Elijah's butt. Elijah had tried so hard to
be the man of the house since his father had been sold away, but
he knew now that this one act of submission before his little
brother's eyes had swept all his efforts away. He knew he would
never hold quite the same respect and admiration in his little
brother's eyes, and that realization broke his heart. 

James continued thrusting into Elijah's asshole, which was now
sloppy-wet with saliva and the boy's natural ass-juices. He
smacked Elijah's legs and buttocks hard with every stroke,
enjoying the sound of his hands slapping violently against the
boy's sweaty skin. He loved watching Elijah's firm teenage
ass-cheeks tense up in taut muscles every time his dick slammed
deep into his guts. He savored the heat and wetness and tightness
of Elijah's adolescent asshole. 

He looked over at the cute little Negro boy sitting on the chair
and imagined the ecstasy it would be to force his way into Thad's
tiny little butt, splitting it in two. 

Feeling an oncoming orgasm, but eager to prolong the day's
pleasures, James pulled his cock out of Elijah with a noisy
slurping sound. 

Elijah's body collapsed to the floor in relief. His respite
lasted only seconds, however, before James, still on his knees,
forced Elijah to face him on all fours so that he could feed the
boy his dick still dripping with spit and ass-slime. 

Elijah shut his eyes tightly and took James's cock in his mouth,
instinctively gagging at the first taste of his own ass-juices.
James grabbed the back of Elijah's head and impaled the boy's
face on his cock. He arched his hips in a back and forth motion,
shoving his dick repeatedly into the back of Elijah's throat. 

Thad sat on the chair with his knees now pulled to his chest. He
buried his head between his knees, lifting his eyes every few
seconds to peek at the horror before him, only to hide his eyes
again in disgust. He felt sorry for his suffering brother. For
some reason the sight of Elijah gagging on the Master's dick
disturbed him even more than the brutal ass-fucking, perhaps
because it was easier for him to imagine how awful it probably
felt. He had no idea why the grown white man would want to do
such things, and could only conclude that he was a mean, hateful
white man who got pleasure from hurting young Negro boys. 

Thad's initial curiosity in the show in front of him gave way to
the fear and panic one would expect from a boy his age. His
little-boy-body began convulsing with sobs.

"Stop hurting my brother!" Thad cried out in between heaving
sobs. "Please stop hurting him, Massuh James! I'm sorry, 'Lij,
I'm so sorry, 'Lij........I wish I could stop him but I can't." 

James had a momentary vision of the beast he'd turned himself
into, and felt a brief pang of sympathy for the tiny little boy
sobbing on the chair. 

"I think your little brother's seen enough," James said with a
disgusted shrug, more at himself than anything else. 

He released the back of Elijah's head and pulled his dick from
between the boy's thick Negro lips. He stood up, walked over to
the washbasin beside the bed, wet the cloth beside it, and washed
off his dick. He then crossed the room and stood beside Thad's
chair. 

The two boys watched his every move with bated breath,
desperately hoping this was the end of the morning's ordeal. 

Looking down at Thad, James said, "Now that you know what's
expected of you, I think it's time we break you in and give you
some practice." 

Thad tried to say something in protest, but the words caught in
his throat. He shot Elijah a look of pure panic. 

Elijah nodded his head in weak encouragement to cooperate, then
looked sadly away, ashamed that he was helpless to rescue his
little brother from his fate. 

"I'm a little worn out from all this excitement," James
continued, patting Thad on the shoulder and smiling devilishly at
Elijah. "I think I'll let big brother do the honors. He's been
working so hard for me, it's only fair to let him in on some of
the fun."

Thad's head whipped to look at Elijah in surprise and confusion.


Elijah backed away from the center of the room, shaking his head
in vehement defiance.

"Awwwwww, HELL NO!!!" Elijah shouted, forgetting for a moment
that he was in the presence of a white man who could whip, sell,
or lynch him with impunity. He clasped his hand to his mouth in
hasty contrition. "I mean........please no, Massuh James! Don't
make me do nothin' to hurt my little brother! Show us some mercy,
Massuh James!"

Elijah had been so worried about the countless ways Master James
might harm Thad, the idea of them being forced to do gross things
TOGETHER never crossed his mind.  

"The way I see it," James explained calmly, "this IS mercy. Like
it or not, Thad's gonna see and do things you can't protect him
from. And isn't it better he learn them from an older brother who
loves him, rather than someone like me who just might not show
him any........MERCY???"   

Elijah looked anxiously at his little brother. 

Thad looked back with an expression of helpless panic, clearly
waiting for his older brother to make a decision. 

Elijah felt his heart pounding in his chest. He wanted to grab
Thad by the arm and run from the Master's bedroom, far away from
the Big House, but he knew such resistance would lead to brutal
whippings for his whole family, the end of any chance to see his
father again, and probably being sold away from his mother and
brother. 

Elijah felt dizzy and trapped. He squeezed back his tears and
tried to make peace with what he realized he had to do. The idea
of sex acts with his little brother seemed weird and gross, but
not nearly as despicable or humiliating as sex acts with an older
white man. 

"I guess I don't got no choice, Massuh James," Elijah consented,
hanging his head in shame. 

Thad looked surprised and betrayed. He'd been hoping Elijah would
fight the Master and lead Thad bravely from the Big House, his
pride and purity intact. 

James smiled lustfully, trembling in anticipation of the
forbidden fantasy about to play out before his very eyes. 

"You're a smart boy, Elijah," James said. "Now here's what I want
you to do. Pretend you're the Master. Sit on the bed and repeat
EVERYTHING I just did to you, only of course you'll be doing it
to your little brother while I sit in the chair and watch. It's
that simple." 

James grabbed Thad's arm and pulled him up from the chair,
pushing him toward Elijah and the bed. The little boy stumbled as
if he was sleepwalking. James sat his naked body in the chair and
faced the show about to begin. 

This was Elijah's ultimate punishment, James thought to himself.
Forcing him to be complicit in his own little brother's
corruption. 

The two boys faced each other awkwardly, as if to say, "Are we
really about to do this???" 

Elijah's mind poured over everything he'd just been subjected to,
racing ahead to imagine himself doing the same things to his
little brother. He couldn't think of any way to avoid causing his
brother pain and humiliation. 

Elijah reached out nervously for his little brother. Pulling Thad
close to him, Elijah tenderly whispered, "This gonna hurt real
bad, but I'll try to make it easy on you as I can. Remember
Daddy."

Thad looked anxiously up into his older brother's sad eyes for
reassurance, and squeezed his hand as if to say, "It's okay. I'll
be brave for you, Mama, and Daddy." 

Elijah sat on the edge of the bed as James had done a half hour
earlier, and pulled Thad to him so that the younger boy was
sitting between his older brother's legs. Thad thought it felt
strange to be pushed so close to his brother's naked body. Elijah
could feel his little brother's body shivering with anxiety. 

Elijah closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and clumsily began
nuzzling Thad's creamy-brown neck. He licked and kissed his
brother's neck for the first time in his life. Thad stiffened
from the strange, ticklish sensation. Elijah could smell Thad's
freshly washed hair, and his little brother's skin tasted salty
but clean, sweeter than Master James's. 

James found himself intensely aroused by the taboo scene taking
place before him, and moved his right hand to his hardening dick.


Elijah licked Thad's neck, cheeks, and ears, nibbling as gently
and lovingly as possible. The weirdness of the situation creeped
him out a little bit, but at the same time he found his brother's
soft, warm skin strangely comforting. He wished something as
simple as doing this all afternoon would satisfy Master James,
but he knew there was more to come and was eager to have the
whole thing over with. 

As he tenderly pecked at the back of Thad's neck, Elijah slowly
unbuttoned his brother's tattered shirt. Whispering words of
reassurance in his little brother's ear, Elijah gently pulled the
shirt off of Thad's shoulders and arms, tossing it to the floor.


James smiled in admiration at the naked little-boy-chest in front
of him, and continued stroking his seven inches to life. He could
easily circle Thad's skinny arms with his index finger and thumb.
Thad's chest was flat as a washboard, with only the faintest
hints of where the muscles of young manhood might develop in
future years. He had the smallest nipples James had ever seen,
cute specks of dark brown standing out from Thad's toffee-colored
complexion. His belly button jutted out in the same way as his
older brother's. 

Thad shivered, more from self-consciousness than from the cool
morning breeze coming through the bedroom windows. He'd been
shirtless thousands of times, but never like this. He couldn't
comprehend why the Master was drooling at the sight of his chest
like it was a Christmas turkey. 

Elijah awkwardly rubbed his hands across his little brother's
chest. His hands wandered nervously and aimlessly, uncertain
where to devote the most attention. He fondled the little boy's
nipples, barely discernible from the rest of his soft skin. He
tickled Thad's belly button and moved his hands back up the
length of his brother's chest. It was embarrassing to be touching
his brother this way, and he knew Thad was just as uncomfortable.


Remembering his next move, Elijah clumsily untied the string
fastened through Thad's cloth pants. He whispered another word of
encouragement, then gently pushed his brother into a standing
position. Taking a deep breath, he slowly pulled the pants to the
ground, helping the trembling Thad step out of them. 

Thad's entire body stiffened. James's lascivious stares sliced
his boyish modesty into shreds like dozens of sharpened daggers.
He felt ridiculous and scared as he stood there awkwardly, his
front exposed to the ogling white man, his bottom just inches
from his embarrassed brother's face. 

James drank in the sight of the naked, trembling boy. Thad's
penis was little, hairless, and slightly darker than the rest of
his body. James could just barely make out the beginnings of
testicles bundled tightly in a brown wrinkled ball-sac.
Prepubescent penises didn't usually do much for James, but the
beauty of the entire package was a wonder to behold. If nothing
else, the taboo of the boy's youth was enough to thrill him to an
erection. Another perk of slavery, James thought to himself   the
ability to explore one's deepest, darkest fantasies, totally free
of consequences.

Feeling compassion for his exposed brother, Elijah pulled Thad
back down to a sitting position between his legs. Recalling his
next required activity, Elijah reluctantly began fondling his
little brother's soft stub of a penis. Thad's body grew tense in
his arms. Other than Master James's and his own, it was the first
dick Elijah had ever touched. 

Similarly, it was the first time anyone had touched Thad in such
a private part of his body. He was surprised at the pleasurable
tingling sensations it gave his body, but his embarrassment under
Master James's intense gaze kept him from getting hard. 

Stroking his rock-hard cock more aggressively now, James gave
Elijah a stern and urgent nod to proceed with the inevitable. 

This was the moment Elijah had been dreading most. He remembered
the shock, then disgust, then unbearable pain when his own virgin
asshole had first been violated, not so long ago. He knew his
brother's age and small size, combined with a dick which was
considerably larger than Master James's, would make Thad's
deflowering all the more difficult and agonizing. He desperately
wished he could freeze the scene and jump in his little brother's
place   anything to spare him the shock and humiliation from
which he knew his little brother would never fully be able to
recover. 

Elijah pushed Thad into a standing position, gently turned him
around so that his backside faced Master James, and then pushed
down on his brother's back so that he was bending over, ass in
the air. 

Thad squeezed his eyes shut in embarrassment, hoping it would all
be over soon. 

Elijah blushed as he reached over and grabbed his little
brother's tiny, firm globes in both hands, pulling them gently
apart to expose the tiny brown cherry between them. It felt weird
to be groping his little brother's ass. Other than teasing each
other about farts, it was a part of Thad's body he'd never really
noticed or thought about. It felt small and smooth in his hands,
and the winking hole now open to view looked ten times tinier
than Master James's small asshole. 

James gasped in delight at the sight of Thad's anus. As expected,
it was far tinier and tighter than his older brother's. He had to
stare extra hard just to spot it. To James, it appeared a
delicious fruit, not quite ripe but still too tempting not to
have at least one taste. James wondered how Elijah was going to
fit a FINGER in the tiny opening, let alone his massive manhood.


Elijah sighed deeply, whispered a warning in his little brother's
ear, licked his index finger, and then poked his fingertip
against the sealed entrance to his brother's rectum. The tiny
hole stood strong against the intruder, refusing to give way. 

Elijah looked at Master James with a pleading look, but the older
white man was lost in a lustful daze. James nodded impatiently
for Elijah to continue his efforts. 

Elijah spit a gob of saliva into his hand and smeared it all
around his brother's butt-hole. Licking his index finger again,
he pressed it against his brother's clenched anus a second time,
pushing a little bit harder but being careful not to damage
anything. Just as he was about to give up, Elijah felt his index
finger push past the stubborn barrier, slowly sinking into the
warm cavern behind it.

Thad screamed a high-pitched shriek of pain that seemed to last
forever and echo across all 3,154 acres of Stampley Plantation. 

"Take it out, 'Lij! Take it out!" Thad shouted in agony, trying
to lurch his body away from the intruder. "I'm serious, 'Lij!
Take it out!!!"

Elijah felt sorry for his brother but knew that removing his
finger now would only cause more pain in the long run. Half of
his index finger was now swallowed up in his brother's virgin
asshole. It felt like the ring of Thad's anus would choke the
circulation from his finger before they were finished. He wiggled
the tip of his finger, feeling for the first time the strange
texture of his little brother's insides. 

He grabbed the pillow off the floor, the one Master James had
been kneeling on earlier, and handed it to his brother to quiet
his blood-curdling screams. Elijah inched his finger a little
deeper, feeling his little brother's body tense up at each new
millimeter of violation. After what felt like hours of effort,
Elijah's entire finger was eventually sucked into the depths of
Thad's bony boyish mounds. 

James was hypnotized by the sight of the younger brother's virgin
body being violated by his older brother's probing finger, all in
obedience to HIS orders as their Master and owner. With his left
hand he fondled his balls; with his right hand he pumped
earnestly up and down on his rock-hard cock, wet from saliva and
precum. His voyeuristic pleasure was so intoxicating that at no
point did he consider jumping up to join the fun. There would be
time for that later. To disrupt the show now would be to break a
spell he'd been waiting a lifetime to cast. 

Even with Thad's face buried in the pillow, Elijah could still
hear his little brother's muffled screams. But the older brother
knew he had no choice but to continue. To stop now would mean
everything that came before had been endured in vain. 

Elijah slowly withdrew his finger from the grasp of his little
brother's asshole, relieved to see it come out slimy but clean.
He was glad he'd had the foresight to plan Thad's bath in the
creek. He then pushed his finger all the way back in, feeling his
brother's anal walls reluctantly making way for the unexpected
visitor. He wiggled his finger around again, trying to block out
his brother's shouts and groans. 

He wrinkled up his nose when he thought about what he was doing
poking fingers  in his brother's shit-hole! But at the same time,
against his conscious will, Elijah imagined that it was his DICK
sinking deep into Thad's hot, wet insides, and his dangling
appendage began guiltily twitching to life. 

Elijah tried to cleanse his mind of these dirty thoughts,
reminding himself of the pain such action inflicted on his own
young body, and the even greater pain he knew getting fucked in
the ass would cause his brother. He knew he had little choice in
the matter, but he could at least choose not to ENJOY his
brother's suffering........couldn't he???

Elijah hurried to get the whole thing over with. He licked his
middle finger and  pressed TWO fingers against his little
brother's tight pucker, pushing firmly until it gradually inhaled
the thickness of both fingers. Thad tried to scramble away and
escape, but Elijah held him firmly in place with his left hand.
He hated Master James for forcing him to rape his own brother. 

Elijah pushed both fingers as deep as he could, wriggling them
around to familiarize Thad with the feeling of having his rectum
filled. He thrust them in and out, in and out, listening to the
funny suction noises made by the friction of muscle, saliva,
fingers, and air-bubbles. 

The sounds made him think again of what it would feel like to
fuck his little brother, and his dick continued growing in spite
of himself. He looked down with horror at his semi-hard dick,
jerking into the air like a snake rearing its head up to strike.
How could this be happening?!? He hadn't even touched himself. It
just wasn't right to want to do to his little brother what Jacob
had done to Sophy that day in the barn. 

But it's natural to be curious, he tried to assure himself. Then
he remembered that before he'd met Master James he didn't even
know a boy's body could be put to such uses! That must be it, he
concluded angrily. Master James had somehow brainwashed him,
polluting his mind with ideas it had never considered before. 

Elijah felt like his hardening dick was going to betray his
shameful thoughts to Master James and Thad, but he was helpless
to do anything to stop it. 

Elijah now pried open Thad's anus with three spit-lubricated
fingers, stretching the hole in preparation of the larger
intruder to come. Convinced that his brother's ass was as loose
as it was going to get that morning, Elijah pulled his fingers
out. 

Thad stood up on wobbly knees, looking scared and shell-shocked.
His eyes shot wide in dismay when he saw Elijah's rock-hard
monster, grown to its full nine inches, jutting out menacingly
before him. 

Elijah looked guiltily away, holding out his slimy fingers for
Thad to lick. Thad wrinkled his nose in disgust, convinced he was
going to throw up. James laughed and continued stroking his dick.


"C'mon, Thad," Elijah coached gently. "I did it, and it ain't TOO
bad." 

Thad literally held his nose and dove in for the taste, licking
Elijah's fingers thoroughly clean in a matter of seconds. They
tasted weird and slimy, but not as gross as he'd expected. 

"This the worst part," Elijah warned, still embarrassed of the
throbbing teenage dick reaching out for his ten-year-old
brother's asshole. "I'll try my best to get this over quick." 

Elijah helped position Thad on all fours, on the cold wooden
floor where Elijah himself had been brutally raped by Master
James less than an hour earlier. Instead of using the pillow as a
kneepad, he kindly gave it to his brother to once again muffle
his inevitable screams. 

Positioning himself behind his brother's tiny bubble-butt, Elijah
awkwardly poked his thick brown cock at his brother's small
wrinkled hole. His manhood looked grotesquely huge in contrast to
Thad's frail little body. He rubbed his cock against the saliva
still smeared around Thad's asshole, left over from Elijah's
probing fingers. Realizing that wouldn't be enough lubrication,
Elijah spit in his hand and stroked up and down on his dick until
it was thoroughly wet. He nervously pushed the thick dark head of
his African python against his little brother's asshole, pressing
harder and harder until it finally broke the surface and sank two
or three inches into the depths beneath. 

Thad's body convulsed in a pain beyond screams. 

Elijah kept still as long as he could, allowing Thad to grow
accustomed to the burning sensation. Eventually the warm wet
bowels beckoned his cock deeper, and he shoved it in another two
inches, splitting open Thad's narrow virgin tunnel. 

Elijah was torn between empathy for his little brother's
excruciating pain, and an overwhelming temptation to take
pleasure from the firm round ass clutching his dick in its
unbelievably tight grasp. 

Struggling to find a comfortable position, Elijah pushed Thad
flat on his stomach so that he could rest his own body atop his
little brother's, and bury his dick fully in the younger boy's
unexplored depths. It took a surprising amount of strength for
Elijah finally to sink his shaft all the way into Thad's
ripped-open ass.

Elijah gasped in sudden pleasure at the new sensation. He was
amazed at how good it felt to have his dick totally engulfed by
the warm, squishy tightness of his brother's rectum. No wonder
Master James craves Negro boys' asses, Elijah reflected guiltily.


Delirious from this newly discovered pleasure, Elijah forgot
about Thad's pain for a moment and pumped in and out of his
brother's asshole. He was forced to take it slowly at first, so
restricted and resistant were his brother's anal walls.
Eventually he tore them wide open, however, and started slamming
in and out of his little brother's limp body with greater speed
and intensity.

Thad felt like the flames of hell were burning away at his
insides. Elijah's monster dick felt like a sharp tree branch
spearing his little body. He smashed his face into the pillow and
muffled his terrified sobs. He felt angry and betrayed that
Elijah seemed to be enjoying himself so much, after promising to
take it easy on him and get it over quickly. 

This was a fate far more painful and degrading than anything
Thad's unpolluted little mind could have ever imagined. At ten
years of age, the innocent boy had no concrete, conceptual
understanding of "virginity," but he still felt instinctively
that with every one of his brother's thrusts, something serious
and permanent was being damaged and changed inside him. He
imagined Lil Rooster in the corner of the room, pointing at him
and laughing and calling him a "pussy-boy." But wasn't that
exactly what he'd been turned into   a pussy-boy performing dirty
acts for his Master's pleasure?

James felt like he was on the brink of orgasm. He smiled in
amusement at Elijah's unexpected enthusiasm. His jaw dropped in
awe when he realized Thad's tiny ass had taken all nine, thick
inches of Elijah's African beast. Surely the poor boy would be
limping for weeks! 

Elijah was caught up in a frenzy of selfish, sweaty, irrational
lust. He slammed his huge cock again and again into his little
brother's body. Thad's face was smashed awkwardly into the
pillow, his bony little body jerking rhythmically forward in a
rocking motion with every painful thrust. The smell of Thad's
hair, skin, and ass was intoxicating as the little boy's flesh
offered up to Elijah its previously unimagined pleasures. 

This being Elijah's first time fucking another person, boy or
girl, orgasm overtook him without warning. Elijah let out a wild,
guttural scream as shot after shot of creamy teenage cum exploded
into his little brother's stunned body. 

Thad felt like someone was inflating him with hot water. He felt
his brother's thrusts weakening and moaned a sign of relief.  

Seeing that the teenage boy's out-of-control hormones had altered
the plan, James leapt to the floor and joined Elijah in his
dramatic climax. The sight of Elijah's thick dark dick still
impaling his little brother's pert golden-brown ass-cheeks was
enough to send James over the edge. Kneeling beside Thad's
prostrate body, James unleashed four ropes of thick, hot cum all
over the little boy's back and hair. With a loud sigh, he
released all the pent-up lust and guilt from the morning's
adventures. 

Elijah looked shamefacedly at James, knowing his Master had seen
him take pleasure from fucking his little brother's ass. He
pulled out his soggy, softening dick, and watched a puddle of cum
run out of Thad's asshole. The boy's anus gaped open in a dark
circle the thickness of Elijah's dick. 

James stood up and collapsed contentedly upon the bed. He called
the two slave boys to lie beside him, one on each side, resting
each arm beneath each boy's head.  The three lay there breathing
heavily, chests heaving up and down, staring up at the ceiling.

Thad, still covered in cum, felt disgusting and wanted nothing
more than to run to the creek where he could wash and cry. He
wondered if boys like Lil Rooster and Moses would be able to tell
just by looking at him that he too was a pussy-boy now. He
thought of the father he could barely remember, and wondered if
having him in their lives again would make the morning's
suffering worthwhile. 

Elijah felt a rush of guilt and regret about selfishly taking his
little brother's virginity. He wondered if Thad would ever be
able to forgive him. How quickly and darkly his life had changed
since meeting Master James! He hoped nobody else would find out
that he'd taken pleasure from the anal rape of his little
brother.

James was drunk with power and pleasure. He heard the heavy,
troubled breathing and felt the warm bodies of the two slave boys
at his side and knew he couldn't free them, or any of his slaves
for that matter. At least not yet, at least not until he'd
explored the numerous temptations of his new role as slave-owner
to their fullest.  
*****************************************************************
*******

Any and all feedback is welcome and desired! I would love to hear
advice on how my writing might improve, characters or scenes you
particularly enjoy, suggestions for future characters or
storylines, stories and fantasies of your own, and anything else
you might want to share. E-mail me at <a
href="mailto:WannabeWhitman@yahoo.com">WannabeWhitman@yahoo.com</
a>. 

  




 

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