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From: WannabeWhitman <wannabewhitman@yahoo.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} The Adventures of Stampley Plantation: Chapter 8 (Mm, mm, 1st, hist, interr, nc, reluc)
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Date: Sat, 09 Dec 2006 15:10:03 -0500
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<1st attachment, "The Adventures of Stampley Plantation - Chapter 8.doc" begin>

The Adventures of Stampley Plantation

By WannabeWhitman (Mm, mm, 1st, hist, interr, nc, reluc)

NOTE TO READERS: This is an ongoing series involving slavery in
the antebellum South, non-consensual sex (sometimes with minors),
and the use of racial epithets. The material is mostly of a
homosexual nature, but includes some bisexual themes. If you
think any of this might offend you, DO NOT READ. I realize some
material may be distasteful and offensive to some readers, but
nobody is forcing you to read it. The series covers a wide range
of sexual expression, however, so just because you dislike one
chapter doesn't mean you won't enjoy others. Keep in mind these
are only FANTASIES based on America's racial history and my own
conflicted imagination about that history. My intention is not to
condone or encourage racism, sex with minors, or rape. 

Much of the eroticism is based on story and character
development. Details in one chapter might not find their erotic
climax until several chapters later. For maximum enjoyment, I
strongly recommend reading all chapters, and each chapter in its
entirety. 

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 8: The Plantation Puppeteer 

Two days earlier........

Elijah and Thad stumbled out of the Big House like newborn calves
struggling to stand on wobbling legs. Neither boy spoke a word as
they walked toward the slave cabins. They were stunned and shamed
by what they'd just suffered at the hands of their new Master,
and their youth and innocence left them tragically unprepared to
process such troubling emotions. The peace and quiet of a normal
sunny afternoon presented a sharp contrast to the dark
depravities they'd just endured, and the cheerful sounds of birds
chirping and leaves rustling in the wind seemed to mock their
disturbed states of mind. 

Elijah had left the Big House with a heavy heart on many
afternoons, but today his shame and sadness was far more severe
than usual. Before today, he'd always felt dirty and disgusted on
his hikes back to the slave cabins after being molested by Master
James. But at least on those days he could find comfort in the
fact that his shame was SOLITARY, something private and detached
that he could suffer ALONE, separate from his ordinary life in
the slave quarters. 

But Master James had spoiled all that by dragging Elijah's little
brother into one of their encounters. Elijah winced as he
recalled his helplessness and humiliation while Master James
groped, fingered, and raped him in front of the horrified Thad.
He fought back tears as he realized that his role as the strong,
perfect, admired older brother had probably been forever ruined
in Thad's mind by the image of Elijah on all fours, having a
white man's dick shoved in his shit-hole while he called himself
the degrading names he knew Master James wanted to hear. 

But that had been only half of the morning's nightmare. Elijah's
most intense shame came from the fact that he'd cooperated in
Thad's corruption, obeying the Master's orders to kiss, grope,
finger, and fuck his own innocent little brother. Not only that,
but something deep down inside had caused him to take PLEASURE in
raping his younger brother, bucking into Thad like a wild horse
and shooting his juices deep into his brother's bony little butt.


Elijah cringed as the memories of Thad's tears and screams echoed
in his mind. He knew his brother's screams were only partly due
to the pain caused by having his asshole ripped open for the very
first time; they were also screams of disillusionment and
betrayal. Thad had looked to him for leadership and protection.
Thad had probably hoped Elijah would spit in the mean Master's
face and rescue him from such a horrible fate, running far, far
away from the evils of Stampley Plantation. When Elijah failed to
do that, Thad had at least trusted Elijah's promises to be gentle
and caring, and surrendered for the sake of earning a reunion
with a father he could probably barely remember. But possessed by
some demon of desire, Elijah had enjoyed Thad's body as
enthusiastically and selfishly as Master James had enjoyed
Elijah's own body so many nights before. 

Elijah's shame could no longer be solitary. It would now
overshadow every look, every conversation, every memory between
he and Thad, standing as a constant source of tension, distrust,
and distance between them. Even if Thad could forgive him, things
would never be the same again.

As the two boys stumbled their way in a gloomy daze toward the
slave quarters, Elijah glanced nervously at Thad. The younger boy
stared sullenly at the ground. Elijah noticed there were still
tearstains on Thad's toffee-colored cheeks, and some of Master
James's dried spunk still caked in his hair. Instead of skipping
playfully across the grass, Thad dragged his feet sluggishly and
aimlessly forward, like a drunken man seeking solitude and
shelter. In the place of his usual beaming smile, there was a
look of troubled seriousness far beyond his ten years of age. 

"You........you alright, Thad?" Elijah asked gently. 

Thad's head jerked up, startled by his brother's voice. He
mumbled something Elijah couldn't understand. 

"You wanna use the outhouse?" Elijah asked kindly, thinking of
the urge he usually felt to get rid of the Master's spunk after
his ordeals in the Big House. Only this time, Elijah thought
guiltily, the juices Thad needed to expel were Elijah's own. 

Thad looked embarrassed and irritated, but nodded in assent. As
soon as they reached the outhouses on the southern edge of the
slave cabins, Thad dashed into the nearest shack. 

Elijah leaned against a nearby tree while he waited for Thad to
finish. Now that he was back in the familiar environment of his
everyday life, and aware of the stench coming from the nearby
outhouses, he felt disbelief and disgust that he'd found his
little brother's bottom even remotely tempting in a sexual way.
In broad daylight, away from Master James's oppressive presence,
Elijah found the idea of putting his fingers and dick in Thad's
shit-hole to be gross and unnatural. 

Maybe the new Master was some kind of white conjure-man who'd put
a spell on him. How else could Elijah explain that morning's
sudden desire to mount his little brother's ass the way he'd seen
Jacob mounting Sophy that afternoon in the barn?

Several minutes later, Thad exited the outhouse, avoiding eye
contact with his older brother. 

"Follow me, Thad," Elijah said. "I'll show you the secret spot
where I always wash up after........after bein' with Massuh
James." 

He led his little brother through the woods until they reached
the spot in the creek where none of the other slave children ever
swam or fished. 

"This be the best place to wash up without nobody disturbin'
you," Elijah explained. 

Thad nodded listlessly, like a boy in the midst of sleepwalking.
He stood staring blankly at the creek in front of him, hesitating
to remove his clothes. 

"Well, hurry up, now!" Elijah urged impatiently, hurriedly
unbuttoning his shirt. "We ain't got all day, Thad. We gotta be
back 'fore Mama get home." 

Thad shot his older brother a suspicious look, then slowly
unbuttoned his tattered shirt. Elijah hated the palpable new
tension between them. He and Thad had been naked around each
other hundreds of times before, but this was the first time it
had ever felt awkward or unnatural. 

"It hurtin' real bad, ain't it?" Elijah asked sympathetically.
Stripped completely naked, he stepped into the creek and sank
into its cool, soothing embrace. 

Thad's face stiffened in response to Elijah's question. 

"Yeah, it hurts somethin' awful," Thad mumbled, still looking
away from his older brother. "It feel like somethin' on fire down
there." 

"Yeah, it felt like that for me too, the first time," Elijah
explained. "Sittin' in the water helps cool it off, though." 

Thad threw his shirt to the ground, yanked his pants to his
ankles, and hurriedly jumped into the creek to hide his nudity.
He gasped in pain as the cool water made contact with his torn,
burning asshole. He bit his bottom lip to keep from crying in
front of his big brother, but despite his best efforts, salty
tears began streaming down his cheeks.

"C'mon, Thad," Elijah said reassuringly. "Things gonna be
alright, you'll see." 

He moved forward to hug his weeping brother, but Thad recoiled
from Elijah's approach. 

"I'se sorry, Thad, I promise I'se real sorry," Elijah said
desperately. "You know I love you and ain't wanna let him hurt
you like that. But we SLAVES, Thad, meanin' we ain't got no
choice 'cept to do what Massuh say." 

The tears flowed furiously down Thad's cheeks. Thad jerked his
head up from its sullen scowl, shot his brother an angry look,
and blurted out, "Yeah, but you ain't have to LIKE it!" 

Elijah flinched, painfully aware of the truth in his brother's
accusation. 

"No, it ain't like that, Thad," he stuttered.

"Why was you pantin' and moanin', then, huh, 'Lij?" Thad shot
back. "And why was your thing all hard, just like dogs when they
be in heat? And don't think I ain't feel you shoot that nasty
stuff inside me, just like Massuh did on my back!  Looked to me
like you was likin' it just the same as him, and he nothin' but
an ugly, mean white man!" 

Thad's tirade trailed off into angry sobs.

Elijah felt like he was trapped in a nightmare. It was
devastating to hear Thad so angry with him, because up to that
point he'd never expressed anything but affection and admiration
for Elijah. 

"Naw, it ain't like that, Thad, you gotta believe me!" Elijah
pleaded, feeling even worse knowing it was partly a lie. "I was
puttin' on a show for Massuh James, that's all, hopin' he'd like
it and help us get Daddy back. I ain't wanna hurt you, but you
wanna see Daddy again, don't you?" 

"Yeah," Thad mumbled, sniffling and wiping his nose with his
hand. 

"I know what Massuh made us do was nasty," Elijah continued. "But
for some reason he likes doin' gross things with boys like us,
and I was just givin' him what he wanted. Everything gonna be
alright when Daddy get back, you'll see." 

"You tellin' the truth, 'Lij?" Thad asked, his young voice eager
to trust his older brother again. "You ain't enjoy puttin' your
thing inside me?" 

"I swear on Mama and Daddy," Elijah declared, sensing that he was
winning Thad over, at least for the moment. 

Thad looked skeptical, but shrugged his shoulders and sighed, "I
just hope Massuh don't make us do none of that nasty stuff ever
again. That man give me the creeps. And my butt hurt so bad I
can't hardly walk." 

The two boys slipped into silence as they scrubbed their bodies
and washed their hair. As they put their dirty clothes back on,
Elijah turned to Thad, and in a grave tone of voice warned,
"Don't tell Mama, Thad. It be bad enough she know about me, but
if she find out Massuh been hurtin' you too, it'll prolly kill
her." 

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

The attempted deceptions of two young boys are no match for a
mother's intuition, and Phoebe had been home no more than an hour
that evening before noticing a difference in the appearance and
behavior of her youngest child. 

She first sensed something was wrong when Thad failed to greet
her with his usual smile and energetic hug when she returned from
working in the fields. Instead, she came home to both boys sound
asleep. 

Her uneasiness grew when Thad spoke no more than four words over
supper, a sharp contrast to the lively stories of his day's
adventures that usually entertained her each night. At first she
thought he might be sick, but he didn't have a fever, or seem to
be in any physical pain........except that he walked sort of
slowly and stiffly. 

Sort of the way Elijah had moved after his first night in the Big
House. 

At first she pushed the possibility from her mind. Certainly the
new Master couldn't be vile enough to take pleasure from the body
of a boy as young and undeveloped as Thad! And even if his
perversions DID involve such extremes, what was the likelihood
that out of all the slave boys on Stampley Plantation, he'd
choose BOTH of her sons for his evil purposes? 

Phoebe tried to stifle her rising panic when both Elijah and Thad
refused her friendly invitation to join her in a game of
checkers. She was used to such moody refusals from Elijah,
especially since his regular visits to the Big House. But she
couldn't remember a single time Thad had responded to such an
offer with anything but beaming grins and celebratory acrobatics
around the kitchen table. 

"What's the matter, baby?" Phoebe asked, pulling Thad into her
arms and stroking his crispy hair with her hands. She tried not
to let her voice betray the hysteria rising within her chest. 

"Nothin'," Thad mumbled, staring at the ground. 

Phoebe had never known her son to be evasive or avoid eye
contact. 

"You get in a fight today, baby?" she asked, desperately hoping
the answer was "yes." 

Thad shook his head "no." His body was stiff beneath her touch,
and Phoebe noticed a rogue tear running down his cheek. 

That was all she needed to confirm her darkest fears. She
released Thad from her embrace, and staggered up from her seat.
The room was spinning around her. She clutched the back of a
chair and shot a quizzical look in Elijah's direction. Elijah
pretended to play with a centipede crawling across the cabin's
dirt floor. 

"That bastard fetched Thad up to the Big House, didn't he?!?"
Phoebe could barely choke out the question. 

Elijah looked up with an expression that revealed everything. 

What happened next was a nightmarish blur in Elijah's memory. His
mother let out the most heartbreaking shriek he'd ever heard in
his life, then collapsed to the floor in convulsive sobs. 

"Not my baby boy........" she wailed over and over. "Not my
little Thad, not my baby boy!" 

The sobbing was followed by more hysterical screaming. Phoebe had
survived years of sexual abuse at the hands of smelly, violent
overseers. She'd endured the sale of her husband to another
plantation. She'd even stayed strong when her 14-year-old son had
been snatched away to be the sexual plaything of the new Master,
standing helplessly by while his innocence and zest for life was
slowly snuffed out before her very eyes. She'd told herself there
was nothing the white devils could do to spoil the joy she felt
because of her two sons, short of selling Elijah and Thad away
from her. 
But her imagination was no match for the white folks'
perversions, and Phoebe hadn't considered the possibility of them
snatching away Thad's innocence, at least not for several more
years. 

This was too much, she thought to herself. This was it, her
breaking point. She'd rather be raped a dozen times a day for the
rest of her life, if it meant she would spare her little boy his
suffering at the hands of the lecherous new Master. The thought
of the white man raping her young and helpless son broke her
heart and filled her with a desperate, wild rage. 

"Not my little boy........" she muttered over and over, only now
it took on a more threatening tone. 

All rationality completely fled her mind. She stood up and looked
frantically around the room, seeking out any object she could use
to inflict pain, and hopefully DEATH, on the new Master. If she
ran fast enough, she could grab the poking stick from the fire,
storm the Big House, and burn out the new Master's eyes while he
ate supper. Then she would set the entire plantation-house
ablaze. If she was lucky, she could run away with Thad and Elijah
before any of the house slaves or overseers discovered her crime.


She continued exhaling explosive screams, venting her rage as she
yanked the poking-stick from the fire. 

"Calm down, Mama!" Elijah pleaded. This was a side of his mother
he'd never seen, and it scared him. He could hear Thad crying in
the background. "Massuh James gonna help us get Daddy back! But
he axed to meet Thad first........so we HAD to do it, Mama, to
help get Daddy back!" 

Phoebe whirled around, still holding the flaming poking-stick. A
brief, intense look of compassion passed across her face. Then
she burst into cackling, maniacal laughter, which then morphed
into mournful wailing. 

"Oh baby, my poor baby," she moaned. "White folks ain't nothin'
but thieves and liars, 'Lij. White men'll promise you gold and
heaven if they think it'll help 'em have they way with you. Your
Daddy ain't never comin' back, baby." 

Elijah collapsed on his bed in stunned defeat, next to the
sobbing Thad.  

Phoebe took a deep breath and wiped her nose with her free hand.


"But the new Massuh's 'bout to be ONE white man who gonna PAY for
his sins." 

Still holding the fiery poking-stick, Phoebe stormed out the
front door and proceeded to march down the center lane between
the slave cabins, toward the Big House. 

By this time, people were coming out of their cabins to see what
all the screams were about. Penny   Lil Rooster's mother, who
lived with her husband in the cabin next door to Phoebe's   was
one of the first to see Phoebe rushing toward the Big House, and
she knew something terrible was about to happen. Not wanting to
see her friend whipped or hanged, Penny ran after Phoebe, and
tackled her to the ground. The tussle to the ground extinguished
the poking-stick's flame, and Phoebe eventually surrendered into
Penny's sympathetic arms, sobbing uncontrollably. 

Penny took Phoebe into Penny's own cabin, where she fixed the
distraught woman a hot drink made with local healing herbs. She
later informed Elijah that his mother had taken on a serious
fever, and that it would be best if she spent the next several
nights in Penny's cabin, where she'd be under constant
supervision and prevented from doing anything dangerous or
suicidal. 

To make room for Phoebe in Penny's cabin, her two sons, Lil
Rooster and Spider, would need to stay with Elijah and Thad. 

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

When Penny escorted her two sons into Elijah's cabin later that
night, kissing them goodnight and instructing them to behave, Lil
Rooster responded with a quiet, obedient "Yes, Mama." But the
instant the cabin door shut behind her, he turned immediately
back into his typically loud, cocky, obnoxious self. 

"So I guess the rumors be true, about you bein' the new Massuh's
pussy-boy and all," he said matter-of-factly, grinning and
straddling backwards one of the kitchen chairs. 

Spider, a skinny little boy about Thad's age, with the same
piercing blue eyes, high cheekbones, "good" raven-black hair, and
high-yellow skin as his older brother, sat quietly on the bed
next to the sniffling Thad. He wasn't sure what to say to comfort
his friend. 

Thad shot Lil Rooster an angry scowl, thinking about their recent
fight. 

"Damn, 'Lij," Lil Rooster continued, shifting his chair to face
Elijah, who sat sullenly on Phoebe's bed in the corner of the
cabin. "They told me the new Massuh like nigger-boys 'stead of
pussy, but I ain't wanna believe it. I see now it ain't no lie.
Yo' Mama done lost her damn mind, and seem to me there's only but
one reason for it."

"Shut your ugly yellow mouth 'bout my Mama!" Elijah blurted out,
standing up as if to fight. Elijah was used to Lil Rooster always
running his mouth, but somehow they'd managed to remain friends.
But now Lil Rooster was taking things too far. 

"Calm down, 'Lij, calm down," Lil Rooster said, laughing and
flashing a wide mouth full of pretty white teeth. "Damn, boy, I
see the new Massuh already done turned you into a little bitch,
whinin' and cryin' like you ain't got no balls 'tween yo' legs."


Elijah slumped back down on the bed with a scowl on his face. 

Lil Rooster's words hit a nerve, partly because he and the other
slave boys always felt embarrassed next to Lil Rooster when
they'd swim together naked in the creek, their own dicks looking
like tiny worms compared to Lil Rooster's gigantic gorilla. But
his words also struck a nerve because they articulated Elijah's
own sense that Master James had somehow stolen a part of his
manhood that first night his asshole was forced open by the white
man's dick, and had continued destroying his masculine pride and
confidence with every degrading act he'd been subjected to since
then.

"So what it like, bein' a pussy-boy for the new Massuh?" Lil
Rooster asked. 

Even though Lil Rooster was grinning from ear to ear, Elijah
thought he detected a hint of anxiety behind the question. 

"Ain't none of your business!" Thad blurted out angrily. 

"What you gonna do, fight me again?" Lil Rooster asked, laughing.


Spider shifted nervously on the bed, torn between defending his
friend and laughing along with his older brother. 

"You a feisty little nigger, Thad, and I can respect that," Lil
Rooster continued. "Too bad the new Massuh's gotta go and make a
little girl outta you." 

"I ain't no girl!" Thad shouted defiantly. But the memory of
being forced to all fours while Elijah mounted him from behind
taunted him far worse than anything Lil Rooster could have said.


"If you suck dick and take it up your booty-hole, you a little
bitch to my mind," Lil Rooster declared. " 'Specially if it be a
white man's dick. Hell, ain't no cracker dick comin' anywhere
CLOSE to this nigger!"

Elijah chuckled dryly to himself. 

"Somethin' funny about that, pussy-boy?" Lil Rooster asked. 

"Yeah, YOU'SE funny," Elijah explained, shaking his head. "You be
talkin' all 'white man' this, and 'cracker' that, when YOU'SE
nearly a white boy yo'self!"

Lil Rooster's bullying grin turned into a surprised frown. Even
though he and Elijah were the same age, he always behaved like
the older of the two, and he didn't like having the roles
reversed.

"Just LOOK at yo'self," Elijah continued, sensing he had the
upper hand, at least for the moment. "You nearly just as white as
Mistuh Snopes. You think you some full-blooded African just cuz
you got a big ol' dick 'tween yo' legs? Ain't nobody come from
Africa lookin' yellow as you is! You lucky Massuh James only
likes hisself some REAL niggers, cuz you sho ain't that." 

For a second, Lil Rooster was speechless. He was used to his blue
eyes, high-yellow skin, and silky dark hair being admired and
envied by dark-skinned niggers. His light complexion meant he was
a SUPERIOR nigger; he didn't like to think it might mean he was
somehow LESS THAN other niggers........or even worse, WHITE. 

"FUCK you!" was the first thing Lil Rooster could think to say in
response, his nostrils flaring in defensive anger. "At least I
ain't some nappy-headed, monkey-lookin', cocksuckin',
dick-takin', pussy-boy nigger like you is!" 

Elijah sensed things were spiraling out of control. He and Lil
Rooster had put each other through plenty of good-natured ribbing
before, but this felt different. There was a rising hostility in
the exchange that made him feel sad and regretful, like he was
losing his best friend.

"Take it easy, Roost," Elijah said nervously. "I ain't mean
nothin' by it. 'Sides, you the one started it."

But Lil Rooster was too hotheaded to calm down after having his
good looks insulted. 

" 'Take it easy, take it easy,'" he said, mocking Elijah's
peace-making with an obnoxious lisp. "Just listen to you, backin'
off from a fight like a little sissy. Hell, your little brother
more a man than you is! I guess that's cuz you used to bein' on
yo' knees suckin' Massuh's dick all day long!" 

"Shut up," Elijah mumbled, wanting this nightmare of a day to be
over with. 

"Maybe I DO got some white in me," Lil Rooster persisted. "But at
least I ain't never had no DICK in me! Never sucked no dick, and
sho as hell never will. And my booty-hole ain't but for one
thing, and it sho ain't bein' used like pussy. Hell, if that
cracker even THINKS of touchin' on me, he best be ready to lose
an eye first! Cuz I damn sho ain't no pussy-boy like you or that
nigger Nelson. You know Nelson?"

Elijah nodded. He only knew what Nelson looked like, but he'd
never noticed anything weird or bad about him.

"They say Nelson was a pussy-boy too," Lil Rooster continued.
"'Fore Massuh Walt bought him. And I heard some other niggers
talkin' 'bout how he STILL like doin' that nasty shit. They say
he be offerin' to suck niggers' dicks, like the white folks done
turned him into a dick-suckin' ZOMBIE or some shit like that. Is
that what you is?" 

Elijah blushed a deep purple. "It........it ain't like that," he
struggled to explain. 

He felt a sudden need to prove to his friend, and perhaps to
himself, that he had no choice but to cooperate with Master
James's demands. 

"It ain't that easy. You got no idea what the new Massuh be like,
Roost. The first night he........the first night we was
together........he told me he was gonna whip Mama and Thad and
sell 'em away from me 'less I did what I was told." 

Elijah's eyes welled up with tears as he recalled the confusion
and trauma of that first night in Master James's bedroom.

"He just be sayin' that shit to scare you into givin' it up," Lil
Rooster scoffed, ignoring Elijah's tears. "Ain't nobody can put
they dick in yo' mouth or ass 'less you let 'em. So all's I can
figure is that you LIKE that nasty shit. That true, 'Lij? You
like dick 'stead of pussy?"

"No," Elijah mumbled, still trying to fight back the tears
building up in response to the day's tragic events   the ordeal
in Master James's bedroom, the new and awful distance between he
and Thad, his mother's nervous breakdown, and now the realization
that his best friend had turned on him. 

"Huh?" Lil Rooster taunted, standing up from the chair he'd been
straddling. "I can't hear you. I axed if you like DICK 'stead of
pussy, nigger." 

"Leave him alone!" Thad shouted, feeling sorry for his older
brother.

"Yeah, leave him be, Roost," Spider's high-pitched voice chimed
in. 

But these interruptions only encouraged Lil Rooster to take his
verbal assault even further.

"Now see, ME........I likes the taste of pussy," Lil Rooster
boasted. "But sounds to me like you likes the taste of big,
sweaty dick. Hell, you prolly droolin' over mine right now!" 

Lil Rooster smiled the smile that had seduced dozens of slave
girls and women, grabbed his crotch with his right hand, and
shoved it forward with a playful, cocky thrust. 

Elijah looked away, embarrassed and uncomfortable. 

"Awwww, c'mon now, baby, don't be shy," Lil Rooster teased. "You
know you been wantin' a taste." 

Lil Rooster yanked down the front of his tattered cotton pants,
and pulled out his notoriously large dick. Even though all three
boys had seen Lil Rooster's penis plenty of times before, they
stared in wide-eyed awe and envy. Beneath a curly patch of
coal-black pubic hair, hung a dick that rivaled the length and
girth of most horses. It was a rich, golden hue, darker than the
rest of Lil Rooster's skin, and circumcised. 

Lil Rooster laughed at Elijah's blatant staring. "Look at you,
droolin' over my dick like it's Christmas dinner! You really IS a
cocksucker! Now let's see just how GOOD a little cocksucker you
is." 

He stepped forward and jiggled his huge appendage just inches
from Elijah's face. Elijah squeezed his eyes and lips shut in
resistance and embarrassment. Lil Rooster moved even closer, and
rubbed his soft, sweaty dick against Elijah's thick purple lips.


"You like that, bitch?" Lil Rooster taunted. "You like lickin'
balls too? Or just lickin' ass?" 

Both Thad and Spider scrunched up their noses in disgust.
Ass-licking was an activity from which Thad had thankfully been
spared that morning, and he couldn't imagine anybody, even Master
James, wanting to do something THAT gross. 

"I just loves havin' my balls and booty-hole licked," Lil Rooster
continued his obnoxious performance. "I betcha the new Massuh
done trained you to lick balls and booty-holes REAL good, huh?" 

"Leave me alone!" Elijah blurted out, ducking away from Lil
Rooster's dick. He exploded into loud, wrenching sobs. He flopped
onto his stomach and buried his face in his mother's blanket,
shaking with uncontrollable tears. 

Lil Rooster pulled up his pants in an arrogant gesture of
victory. 

"Damn, boy, I was just playin' witchu." He laughed nervously and
looked over at Thad and Spider. Thad glared at him resentfully,
and Spider looked awkwardly at the ground. 

"That right there, boys," Lil Rooster said, pointing at Elijah's
body, now curled into the fetal position and still heaving with
sobs, "is what they calls a PUSSY-BOY."

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

Elijah cried himself to sleep that night. It was a restless
night's sleep, thanks to the fact that he had to share his
mother's bed with Lil Rooster, whose lanky legs kept kicking him
throughout the night. He also had to suffer through the sounds of
the snoring Spider, who took Elijah's usual spot in the bed with
Thad. 

Both Elijah and Thad spent the majority of the next day in bed,
while Lil Rooster and Spider joined the other slave children in
their normal outdoor games. Thad and Elijah felt sapped of all
motivation to do anything beyond sleeping, eating, and using the
outhouse. 

At several points throughout the day, Elijah ventured sleepily
over to the cabin next door to check on his mother, who was being
nursed by one of the elderly slave women while Penny and her
husband worked in the fields. But every time, he was shooed away
by the nurse because his mother was sound asleep. 

Elijah felt like his life was spinning out of control. All the
comforts of family, home, and friendship had been snatched away,
replaced by instability and sorrow. Every time someone passed by
his cabin's door, Elijah's body grew tense with anxiety,
wondering if it would be an overseer fetching him or Thad back to
the Big House. When night approached and there was still no word
from Master James, Elijah breathed a sigh of relief and hoped it
was a sign that the white man was keeping his promise to find
their father, despite what his mother had screamed about such
promises being empty lies.

Lil Rooster didn't return to the cabin until well past midnight.
He reeked of whiskey and bragged about how he'd just fucked Laney
in her cabin while her brother Jacob was with the new Master on
an overnight trip to Columbus. 

Elijah winced with jealousy at the mention of Laney's name,
wishing it had been HIM enjoying the pretty girl instead of a
cocky jerk like Lil Rooster. But petty jealousy was quickly
forgotten when he heard the news that Master James was taking an
out-of-town trip. Elijah's heart skipped a beat when he realized
this meant that perhaps Master James was keeping his promise
after all. Perhaps he'd return with Daddy, Elijah thought
excitedly, and everything would return to normal. 

Hopeful daydreams kept Elijah awake for several hours, but
eventually he fell into a deep but troubled sleep. He dreamed of
flashbacks to the previous morning: Thad was naked and on all
fours, screaming and crying while Elijah thrust his dick into his
little brother's butt. Despite Thad's cries of pain, Elijah was
enjoying a pleasure more intense than any he'd ever experienced.
He wished he could enjoy the warm, squishy ecstasy of Thad's
tight little ass for hours on end........

Elijah jerked awake, and felt guiltily disappointed that he'd
only been dreaming. His rock-hard dick tented against his cotton
pants. He knew such behavior was wrong and repulsive; but to his
dick, it was an addictive pleasure he was eager to experience
again. 

What the hell's wrong with me? Elijah thought to himself,
sleepily rubbing his eyes. What kind of person dreams about
fucking his little brother? Still, he couldn't deny it had felt
good, far better than jerking himself off had ever felt. Part of
him, way deep down, almost hoped Master James would order him to
do it again. The idea of never enjoying Thad's ass again was
disturbingly depressing. Was Master James's desire for boys some
kind of contagious sickness that he'd passed on to Elijah? Two
days ago, the idea of putting his dick in Thad's shit-hole would
have been nauseating. But now he was wide awake in the middle of
the night, craving that very same thing. Maybe Lil Rooster was
RIGHT, and he really WAS turning into a "pussy-boy." 

Elijah looked over to see if Lil Rooster was still asleep. The
moonlight coming through the cabin windows illuminated the body
of the shirtless teenage boy. Lil Rooster was lying flat on his
stomach, his head turned away from Elijah, snoring in a drunken
slumber. Elijah noticed that at some point during the night, Lil
Rooster's pants had been pushed partway down, so that the upper
slopes of the boy's round ass-cheeks, and the top inches of his
ass-crack, were exposed. 

Elijah stared as if hypnotized by the sight. Before tonight, he'd
never given a second's thought to his friend's ass. But tonight
it suddenly fascinated him as a thing of great beauty, an
irresistible temptation. 

Transfixed, Elijah turned on his side to take a longer, closer
look at his best friend's ass. It was definitely fuller and more
muscular than Thad's bony little butt. A sheen of sweat spread
across Lil Rooster's back, glistening in the moonlight and
continuing into the crevice of the teenage boy's ass-crack. 

The sweat suggested warmth and moisture, and for a brief moment
Elijah wondered what it would feel like to bury his dick between
Lil Rooster's firm, sweaty mounds. Perhaps pushing even deeper,
into the tiny clenched circle hidden between, shoving into the
boy's hot, forbidden insides. Elijah's dick hardened as he
wondered if Lil Rooster's ass would feel as good as
Thad's........perhaps even BETTER? 

What the hell am I thinking? Elijah reflected with shame and
confusion. Lil Rooster's ass was probably filthy and smelly,
certainly not something worth staring at or getting a hard-on
about. He should be dreaming about Laney's soft, pert breasts, or
the mysterious area between her legs, not salivating over his
best friend's ass. 

Elijah felt an intense hatred for Master James, who'd poisoned
his innocent mind with such disgusting ideas. But like it or not,
the ideas were there, and hard as he tried, he couldn't shake
them out of his head long enough to fall back asleep. 

In fact, Elijah felt a sudden, irresistible urge to reach out and
touch Lil Rooster's butt. He was suddenly possessed with the
curiosity to FEEL the shape, skin, and firmness of the half-naked
ass just inches away. Maybe he could do it gently and quietly
enough that the sleeping boy would never know. Thad and Spider
were sound asleep on the other side of the room, and Lil Rooster
had been so drunk that even AWAKE he probably wouldn't know what
was happening. 

Elijah's dick twitched with excitement at the idea of cupping Lil
Rooster's half-bare ass in his hand. The room seemed eerily
quiet, and Elijah feared that even the slightest sigh would stir
Lil Rooster or one of the younger boys from their sleep. But his
aroused dick chased all caution from his mind, and he knew it was
a risk he'd have to take. 

Elijah's heart pounded in his chest as he reached slowly across
Lil Rooster's sleeping body and placed his hand gently on the
boy's left butt-cheek, resting it there before proceeding any
further. Elijah froze as Lil Rooster mumbled something in his
sleep, shifting his sprawling legs before settling back into a
deep sleep. 

Elijah laid his hand there like that for what seemed like hours,
not daring to make another move until confident he wouldn't be
caught. He shivered with a strange thrill at the firm, fleshy
feel of the ass-cheek beneath his hand, and grew eager to
continue his forbidden exploration. 

Holding his breath, Elijah cautiously lifted his hand, then
placed it down on Lil Rooster's right butt-cheek. Its taut,
muscular fleshiness felt about the same as the other one he'd
just touched. Instinctively, Elijah reached his free hand beneath
the waistband of his own pants, and played with his own dick as
he savored the taboo thrill of fondling Lil Rooster in his sleep.


Emboldened by his success so far, Elijah began to stroke and
massage both of Lil Rooster's buttocks -- gently, breathlessly at
first, then with lustful urgency. He knew that what he was doing
was weird and gross, but he was caught up in a frenzy of
inexplicable curiosity and desire. The mounds of Lil Rooster's
ass seemed perfectly shaped, and he enjoyed the feeling of their
flesh kneaded beneath his palm and fingers. 

Elijah's breathing grew heavier, and he stroked his own dick with
increased vigor. Occasionally, Lil Rooster shifted and moaned in
his sleep, causing Elijah to snatch his hand away in panic. Only
when Elijah could hear his friend's drunken snoring resume would
he continue his clumsy, eager groping. 

When massaging through the boy's pants grew tiresome, Elijah
boldly slipped his hand under the waistband of Lil Rooster's
pants, grasping at the naked, fleshy mounds beneath. The touch of
his friend's smooth, sweaty skin was oddly exciting, and Elijah
yanked on his own dick all the more furiously. 

Working himself into an almost feverish frenzy, he pressed his
middle finger into the tight, moist crevice of Lil Rooster's
ass-crack. But Elijah didn't dare push deep enough to touch the
boy's asshole, for fear that sudden contact with such a sensitive
body part would almost certainly wake his friend and be met with
the most unpleasant of reactions. 

Stroking his own dick faster and harder, Elijah closed his eyes
and savored the strangely stimulating touch of his friend's
muscled teenage ass. Running his fingers up and down the boy's
tightly clenched ass-crack, Elijah fantasized about prying it
open with his own throbbing dick. He imagined plunging his hungry
cock into the private, tiny hole hidden between the two mounds of
bronze flesh, just as he'd done to his little brother that
morning. 

Lil Rooster's macho pride and obnoxious bullying made the idea of
fucking him all the more appealing. Elijah pictured Lil Rooster's
cocky grin giving way to gasps of pain and cries for mercy as
Elijah ripped open his previously unexplored asshole. The image
of Lil Rooster on all fours, his body heaving forward with every
forceful thrust, was enough to push Elijah over the edge of
orgasm. Realizing what was about to happen, Elijah pulled his
hand away from Lil Rooster's ass, laid on his back, grabbed his
dick in his right hand, and shot three long ropes of creamy cum
onto his hairless, chocolate-colored stomach, stifling a cry of
concentrated euphoric pleasure. 

He lay like that for several minutes, his bony adolescent ribcage
heaving up and down from one of the strangest orgasms of his
young life. Afraid that Lil Rooster might wake up to see the
puddle of cum on Elijah's stomach, he hurriedly mopped it up with
his shirt, which had been lying on the floor beside the bed. 

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

The next morning, Elijah could barely look Lil Rooster in the
eye. 

In the post-orgasmic glare of broad daylight, he felt shame over
what he'd done the night before. To Elijah's great relief, Lil
Rooster spoke of nothing but his horrible hangover, and seemed
barely able to remember his sexual romp with Laney, let alone any
unusual occurrences while he slept.

Elijah was eager to rinse away the memories of the previous
night's compulsive behavior, and needed to clean his shirt which
was crunchy with dried cum, so Elijah spent an hour or so that
morning washing his body and clothes in the creek. 

Refreshed by his bath and encouraged by the news that Master
James was taking a trip to Columbus, Elijah decided to enjoy an
afternoon of fishing, something he hadn't done since being
subjected to the demanding schedule of a sexual slave. 

When he returned to the cabin after his wash, Elijah found Thad
still in bed, curled into the fetal position and staring sadly at
the wall, just as Elijah had done after his first encounter with
Master James. Elijah asked his little brother to join him on his
fishing trip, knowing the fresh air and comfort of a familiar
routine would do the boy some good, but Thad shook his head in
solemn refusal. It pained Elijah to see Thad so
uncharacteristically sad and sedate, especially since he knew he
was partly to blame. At least Elijah gained some comfort in his
growing confidence that their father would be home soon, and
everything would be back to normal.

These hopes were encouraged later that night. Lil Rooster burst
through the front door, breathless and wild-eyed, and announced
that he had some juicy gossip to share. According to word
spreading throughout the slave quarters, the new Master had just
returned to Stampley Plantation, bloody and dirty after being
beaten and robbed by Jacob the stable-boy, who ran away and was
now the prey for one of Mr. Potter's notorious nigger-hunts. But
the strangest part of all was that Master James showed up with a
mysterious new slave, whose age, identity, and appearance none of
the slave quarter gossips could agree on. 

Elijah's heart pounded in his chest when he heard the news. He
looked excitedly over at Thad, whose tired, sad eyes lit up with
their first flares of hope in over two days. Certainly it
couldn't be mere coincidence that two days after promising to
find their father, Master James returned to Stampley Plantation
with a "new" male slave. 

After everyone had gone to bed, Elijah still couldn't fall
asleep. His mind raced in anticipation of the reunion to come,
imagining the joy and protection it would restore to his life. He
pictured his mother breaking out of her illness to greet her
long-lost husband in a warm embrace. He envisioned Thad, laughing
and playing like a normal kid again. He looked forward to a
future when Master James would leave their family to live in
peace   father, mother, and sons -- while he used some other boy
to satisfy his cravings. Maybe Elijah and Lil Rooster could even
become regular friends again. If anybody could make everything
right again, it was Daddy.

Elijah's excited mind expected a knock on the door at any minute.
He imagined throwing the door open and jumping into his father's
arms. If this didn't happen by the next morning, he told himself,
he'd run up to the Big House to find his father and thank Master
James. Surely Master James wouldn't disapprove of such an
uninvited visit, not after going through such trouble to bring
his father back. 

Yes, that's what he'd do, Elijah decided as he finally drifted
off into sleep. Tomorrow he'd visit the Big House, and bring his
father back.

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

James was enjoying his best night's sleep since arriving at
Stampley Plantation. 

This was partly due to the fact that his battered body
desperately needed rest after the ordeals of the past two days.
But it was also largely thanks to the presence of the mulatto
slave sleeping in the bed beside him, naked and snuggled against
his body in a way Elijah had never done when sharing his bed. 

After rinsing off with a second bath the night before, James had
dried Abel off and led the nervous, naked houseboy upstairs,
where he instructed Abel to spend the night with him. The warmth
of the houseboy's smooth skin pressed against his own, combined
with the rhythm of Abel's deep breathing, easily lulled James
into a peaceful night of pleasant dreams.

The sound of soft knocking startled James from his slumber. He
blinked open his eyes and glanced toward the bedroom windows. The
faint sunlight peeking through suggested it was early morning. 

His body froze in sudden panic, fearing it might be Becky
knocking on his bedroom door, wondering why her son hadn't slept
in his own bed that night. He dreaded her reaction upon
discovering that her only son had been stolen away to be James's
sexual plaything for the night. Becky had treated him with
nothing but respect and affection since his arrival at Stampley
Plantation, and James felt a pang of guilt for betraying her nave
but endearing trust. 

James looked anxiously over at Abel, and was relieved to see the
boy still sound asleep. He scrambled out of bed, wrapped a
blanket around his nude body, and walked toward the bedroom
door.

"Who's there?" James whispered nervously. 

"It's me, Massuh James," replied a familiar voice. "Elijah."

James's brain reeled to pair the voice and name with an actual
person in his life. So much had happened in just three days   the
attack and rape by Jacob, his rescue by Frank Turner and Lucky,
seducing Abel the night before   and the memories of the
slave-boy Elijah now seemed like scenes from another lifetime.
This initial murkiness quickly gave way to a rush of relief and
recognition, and James felt the tingle of butterflies in his
stomach. After all, it was less than a week since James had
convinced himself he was falling hopelessly in love with the cute
and adorable Elijah. 

James opened the door and eagerly ushered Elijah inside, closing
the door behind him. Elijah stood there, panting to catch his
breath. The boy's eyes glowed with a happiness and excitement
that had never before accompanied Elijah's visits to James's
bedroom. 

James smiled at the sight of the handsome slave-boy, and his
stomach leapt into wild acrobatics. Seeing the scrawny,
wooly-haired slave-boy standing in tattered rags before him,
James realized how much he'd missed Elijah. Elijah's looks could
never compare with the golden Adonis lying in James's bed, but
still there was something surprisingly seductive about Elijah's
disheveled, dirty appearance   something vulnerable and innocent
 that Abel's groomed, light-skinned perfection could never match.
James felt a sudden urge to seize the teenage boy in a big bear
hug.

"I'se sorry, Massuh James," Elijah gasped, still catching his
breath. "I know you said to wait, but I ain't hardly sleep at all
last night I'se so happy, so I 'cided to come see you first thing
this mornin', hopin' you ain't gonna be mad at me for not
waitin', cuz they said you was goin' to Columbus, and then they
was sayin' you come back with somebody new, so I was thinkin' it
can't be nobody but Daddy, since you promised, and I was just
burstin' to see my Daddy again and take him back to Thad and
Mama, who's sick real bad from bein' sad and all, so I just
couldn't wait no longer, and........"

Elijah spoke so quickly that James could barely keep up with him.
When James finally realized Elijah's misunderstanding, his heart
sank and his amused smile turned into a troubled frown.

"Elijah, I'm afraid you've got it all wrong," James explained
softly, knowing he was about to break the young boy's heart. He
hated himself for getting Elijah's hopes up in the first place. 

"Your........your father's not here," James continued, wincing as
he watched Elijah's optimism fade into confused disappointment.
"I tried to keep my promise, I honestly did. But on my way to
Columbus, where I hoped to speak to the people who could help me
find him, I was attacked by my driver. The new man I brought back
with me is the slave who helped rescue me, not your father." 

Elijah staggered backwards, and for a second James thought the
boy might faint. His mouth hung open in shock and bewilderment as
he struggled to find his voice. 

"You mean........you mean my Daddy ain't here?" Elijah asked, his
raspy voice breaking with disappointment.

"I'm so sorry, Elijah," James said sympathetically. "I truly am.
I tried to find your father, and I promise I'll CONTINUE trying
to find him, but he's not here now, and there's still no
guarantee we'll be able to find him."

Elijah was dizzy with shock and grief, like someone had just
punched him in the gut. He wanted to dash out of Master James's
bedroom, run deep into the woods, and curl up in some
hollowed-out tree-trunk where he could cry. Tears burned in his
eyes as he thought of his ecstatic hopes from the night before,
hopes that now seemed reckless and foolish. Nothing had changed
after all: his mother was still sick, Thad was still distant and
depressed, and his best friend considered him a "pussy-boy." As
hard as he tried, he couldn't fight back his tears, and finally
burst into explosive sobs.

James rushed forward to comfort Elijah with a compassionate
embrace. Elijah pressed his head against the white man's naked
chest, while James tried to soothe him by stroking his tangled,
wooly hair. 

Although James embraced Elijah with the sole intention of
comforting the distraught slave-boy, he couldn't deny deriving a
selfish pleasure from the intimacy with Elijah's warm, trembling
body. As he petted Elijah's head, he breathed in the unique
smells of the teenage boy's greasy, nappy hair and sweaty Negro
skin. His dick twitched guiltily at the feel of the boy's small
body wrapped in his arms. 

What the hell's wrong with me? James shuddered with shame and
annoyance. This poor, heartbroken boy needed James's sympathy and
support, but in a matter of seconds James was selfishly craving
the slave-boy's flesh. The sickest part was that James was
actually AROUSED by Elijah's grief and vulnerability. Seeing
Elijah's distress and helplessness reminded James of his power
over every aspect of the boy's life. 

Perhaps it was a mistake to give Elijah's feelings any legitimacy
in the first place. James's Northern sensibilities insisted on
the equality and humanity of ALL individuals, regardless of skin
color or social class, but perhaps such idealism was unhealthy
and impractical in this brave new world of the South. If only he
could rid himself of antiquated notions like "equality" and
"compassion," and adopt the amoral attitude of a man like Mr.
Potter. After all, to men like him Negroes were the equivalent of
land and cattle, and one wouldn't worry himself over the
"feelings" of a cow or horse. 

But the scared young man, shaking and blubbering in his arms,
still seemed all-too-human to James, and wouldn't it demand a
sacrifice of his OWN humanity to ignore Elijah's suffering and
pursue his own selfish pleasure? 

James was still debating between sending Elijah back to the slave
quarters, or throwing him on the bed and taking pleasure from his
body despite the boy's tears, when he noticed that Elijah's noisy
crying had waken up Abel. The mulatto houseboy was sitting
upright in bed, rubbing his eyes and looking sleepily at the odd
scene before him. 

Elijah noticed for the first time that there was a third person
in the room, and he stopped crying. He recognized Abel as the
houseboy he'd seen on a couple occasions when sneaking away from
Master James's bedroom. Elijah noticed that Abel appeared to be
naked, and was surprised to feel a slight pang of jealousy. As
much as he despised Master James, Elijah felt strangely hurt to
realize that the older white man had abandoned him for another
slave's affections so soon. Jealousy was quickly replaced by
anger and panic, however, when Elijah realized that James's
fickle interests might seriously jeopardize the search for his
father. Elijah knew that his sexual appeal in the eyes of Master
James was his only leverage on Stampley Plantation. But what if
this light-skinned houseboy took that power away from him,
sparing Elijah from Master James's unwanted affections, but
spoiling all chances of bringing back his father? 

James was caught off guard by this unexpected meeting between his
two favorite slave-boys. 

"Ummmm, I, er, uh........Abel, this is Elijah," James stuttered.
"Elijah, this is Abel." 

Elijah mumbled a greeting but averted his eyes to the floor.
Elijah had been raised to believe that House Negroes were
smarter, cleaner, and better looking than other Negroes, and
almost as powerful as white folks. 

Abel nodded shyly in Elijah's direction. It was extremely rare
for him to meet other slaves, especially boys around his age. 

James was amused by the awkward exchange between the boys. He
wondered what each boy thought about the other, and felt a
mischievous urge to watch the uncomfortable social interaction
play out further.

"Elijah, why don't you have a seat on the bed next to Abel?"
James suggested. 

Elijah furrowed his brow skeptically, wiped his wet cheeks with
his sleeves, and nervously sat down on the edge of the bed,
facing James. 

"Abel, why don't you come out from beneath the sheets and join
Elijah on the edge of the bed?" James asked. 

Abel's eyes grew wide in surprise and embarrassment. 

"But, Master James," Abel stuttered. "I........I don't have any
clothes on, remember?" Despite the previous night's initiation,
Abel still thought it was wrong to be naked in front of other
people. 

James chuckled at Abel's endearing modesty. "Don't worry, Abel,"
he said calmly. "Being naked's nothing to be ashamed about.
Besides, Elijah's seen me naked plenty of times before. Isn't
that right, Elijah?"

Elijah blushed and looked at the floor without answering. 

Abel struggled to comprehend the circumstances that could have
led to Elijah's familiarity with Master James's nakedness.  

"Don't worry, Abel," James continued. "Here in this bedroom,
there's no such thing as rules or shame or modesty or morality,
do you understand? In this bedroom we're free to be ourselves, to
make up our OWN rules, and I say it's perfectly fine to be naked
in front of each other." 

And with that, James dropped the blanket he'd been holding around
his waist, and stood completely nude in front of the two boys on
the bed. 

Abel looked nervously away from the older white man's nakedness.
Worried that he might sabotage his newfound camaraderie with
Master James, he crawled out from beneath the sheets. He swung
his smooth, lanky legs over the edge of the bed, and sat next to
Elijah, modestly covering his crotch with both hands. Both boys
now sat on the edge of the bed about a foot apart, facing James.

"I just want to help the two of you get better acquainted," James
explained, pulling up a chair to sit about five feet from the
bed. "I like you both very much, so it's only natural that I'd
want the two of you to get to know each other. There's no need to
be so shy." 

Both boys stole nervous, skeptical glances at one another.
Neither boy knew what Master James wanted them to say to one
another. 

"How old are you?" Abel asked quietly, uneasy with the awkward
silence.

"I'se fourteen," Elijah replied, making brief, wary eye contact
with the older boy beside him. "You?"

"I'm sixteen," Abel answered. After another long pause, he asked,
"Have you been at Stampley all your life?"

"Yeah," Elijah mumbled, intimidated by the houseboy's "proper"
speech.  

"Me too," Abel said. "We probably played together when we were
little, before my mother stopped letting me play with the other
children."

"Yeah, I reckon maybe we did," Elijah replied. He vaguely
remembered playing with a white-looking boy when he was little,
until the boy mysteriously disappeared from the group one day.
"You got any brothers or sisters?" Elijah asked. 

"No, it's just me, mother, and father," Abel explained. "How
about you?" 

"I got a little brother named Thadeus, but we calls him Thad,"
Elijah said gloomily, remembering the circumstances of his
previous visit to Master James's bedroom.

"You're lucky," Abel responded, forgetting James's presence for a
moment. "I wish I had a little brother sometimes. It gets kind of
lonely up here, without any friends or brothers or sisters." 

"Yeah," Elijah shrugged. "But 'least you gets to sleep in the Big
House, and get all the food you want, and take baths,
and........and wear nice clothes," he added, looking down at his
own ragged shirt and pants in embarrassment. 

Abel felt bad for sounding so ungrateful, and both boys fell into
another tense silence. 

James enjoyed this clumsy exchange more than any play he'd ever
seen in the Boston theatre-houses. Before coming to Stampley
Plantation, he'd watched teenage boys from a distance as they
played baseball in the schoolyard, sat next to him in the
streetcar, or hung out on street corners. He'd always longed to
know the secrets of their lives: how they talked with one
another, befriended one another, played with one another, fought
with one another. It was a social world he was forbidden from
entering, but his new position as slave-owner now gave him the
power to FORCE himself into that world.

The curiosity to watch Abel and Elijah together began innocently
enough, but observing their awkward interactions suddenly
prompted James to pursue his social experiment into a more taboo
and thrilling realm. Seeing Elijah's rough African handsomeness
next to Abel's refined mulatto beauty presented James with an
opportunity too tempting to ignore. 

His conscience nagged him with the memory of his disapproving
mother in the dream that had inspired him to travel to Columbus
in search of Elijah's father just three days earlier. He
remembered the regret after his sexual assault against Jacob went
violently, tragically wrong. Wouldn't he be a fool to ignore such
glaring lessons, such generous opportunities for redemption?
Could he really dismiss Elijah's sorrow, or Abel's sweet, kind
spirit, all for his own selfish pleasures?

But the temptation to explore the two specimens of handsome Negro
flesh sitting just several feet away was too intense for James to
resist. He couldn't escape the awareness that he OWNED the young
men in front of him, meaning he could use and enjoy them in any
way he pleased. It was a privilege too enticing, too overpowering
to relinquish, at least for now.

"I think that's enough small talk for now," James said nervously,
shifting in his chair as his dick twitched slowly to life. "I
think I'd like to see you both become even BETTER acquainted."

Abel looked up, puzzled by the odd change in Master James's
voice. Elijah shot James a skeptical look, recognizing all too
well the early signs of one of the white man's mood swings.

James gulped apprehensively. Where should he begin? His mind
reeled from the possibilities. He could instruct them to do
ANYTHING. He could make them crawl on all fours and quack like
ducks if he wished. He could order them to fight like roosters in
a cockfight, or dance a jig, or piss in each other's faces. He
was the plantation puppeteer, and Elijah and Abel were his
marionettes. 

"I'd........I'd like to see you kiss one another," James said
hoarsely. His heart throbbed wildly in his chest. "On the lips."


Abel looked dumbfounded. "You want us to do WHAT, Master James?"
he asked, honestly thinking (and hoping) his hearing was playing
tricks on him. 

"You heard me," James said sternly. "I want to watch while you
and Elijah kiss one another on the lips."

Abel's body grew tense. It was weird enough kissing Master James
the night before. He'd cooperated then because it was with a
white man, whose affection and approval he greatly desired. But
now Master James was asking him to kiss another NEGRO boy. Elijah
seemed nice enough, but he was still a common, dirty field Negro,
one of the "jungle creatures" Abraham was always claiming they
were superior to. 

Abel was confused by James's behavior. He'd convinced himself
that the night before was some kind of fluke, something the new
Master did in a moment of extreme stress and exhaustion, like the
drunken nights of illicit passion he read about in Master Walt's
bawdier novels. He imagined looking back on it as a strange,
embarrassing episode in the early chapter of a wonderful
friendship with Master James, an encounter never to be repeated.
But now Master James wanted to watch while two Negro boys KISSED?
This could mean only one thing: Master James actually LIKED doing
unnatural, immoral things with boys. It also probably meant that
the new Master had already done such things with the slave-boy
sitting next to him. Abel felt a sharp pang of fear and sadness.
Perhaps Master James didn't think he was special, or want to be
his friend after all. Maybe the night before had been just one of
dozens, maybe even hundreds, of similar encounters with other
slaves. 

"But Master James," Abel protested feebly. "If you don't mind, I
have other chores I should be attending to this morning. Don't
you want me to empty the chamber-pot, or get your bath ready, or
serve you breakfast?" 

"You know I appreciate your diligence, Abel," James explained
calmly, a hint of impatience creeping into his voice. "But your
job is to please me and do what I say, do you understand? Some
Masters only have slaves to cook or clean. Others buy slaves for
breeding, or harvesting crops. But me, I have........OTHER jobs
for my slaves. Elijah here knows all about that, don't you,
Elijah?"

Elijah nodded sullenly, and gave Abel a look as if to warn him,
"It only gets worse, and we might as well cooperate." As much as
Elijah dreaded another day of male-on-male degradation, he
realized this might be his only chance to stay in James's favor
long enough to ensure the continued search for his father, and
Elijah knew he had to make the most of it. 

Elijah scooted closer to Abel on the bed, and looked closely at
the mulatto boy's face for the first time. He noticed Abel's
sparkling green eyes, red lips of medium thickness, and a slender
nose speckled with freckles. His skin was even lighter than Lil
Rooster's, and Elijah marveled at how much Abel resembled a white
boy. 

Knowing there was no point in hesitating any further, Elijah
leaned toward Abel's face and pecked awkwardly at the older boy's
lips. Abel tightened his lips in instinctive resistance, but
Elijah dove in for another peck, then another, and another. Abel
shut his eyes and tried to reciprocate by leaning his head
forward to meet Elijah's stiff kisses. 

James laughed at the sight of the two teenage boys pecking at one
another like two drunken roosters. Their clumsiness was oddly
arousing, but James was impatient to see more.

"That's more like bobbing for apples than kissing," James teased.
"Let me show you what I mean when I say 'kissing.'" 

He stood up, walked over to the bed, and dropped to his knees in
front of Elijah. He grabbed the boy by the back of the head with
both hands and lunged at him with hungry, sensuous kisses. He
licked Elijah's salty, tear-stained cheeks, nibbled on his ears,
sucked on his thick, fleshy lips, and pried open his stunned
mouth with his tongue. He licked every corner and crevice of the
young man's mouth, as if probing for hidden treasure. 

Abel watched with disgust and fascination. It pained him to see
Master James showering a common field Negro with the same
affection he'd shown Abel the night before. Nothing in Abel's
sheltered life had prepared him for the sight of sensual intimacy
between a man as pale as James and a boy as dark as Elijah. 

After a minute of ravenous kissing, James released Elijah's head
and pulled back for air. 

"Now THAT'S what I mean by kissing!" James declared, grinning.
"Elijah, I'd like you to show Abel what you've learned," he
instructed breathlessly. He stayed on his knees so that he'd have
an intimate view of the show.

Elijah apologized to Abel with his eyes, took a deep breath, and
grabbed Abel by the back of the head with both hands, just as
James had done to him. He then proceeded to assault the mulatto
boy's face with awkward but earnest kisses. Elijah lapped at
Abel's neck, and sucked on his Adam's apple. He covered Abel's
moist-red lips with his own thick-purple lips, sucking on them
like Master James had done to him so many times before. Elijah
used his tongue to force his way between Abel's lips, and darted
it around the insides of Abel's mouth. Abel tasted faintly of
fried chicken and morning breath. 

At first Abel stiffened defensively, but eventually he
surrendered to Elijah's kisses, opening his mouth a little wider
and wiggling his tongue in a kind of playful sparring match with
Elijah's. As he grew bolder and more accustomed to the sensation
of kissing another boy, Abel pushed his own tongue into Elijah's
mouth, swirling it around in nervous exploration. He tried to
push from his mind the awareness not only that he was kissing
another boy, but also a dirty Field Negro. The flavor of Elijah's
saliva was disgusting at first, tasting like fish and cornbread,
but eventually Abel grew used to it and licked at Elijah's pearly
white teeth and purplish gums more enthusiastically.

James was delighted by the dramatic improvement in both boys'
performances. It was thrilling beyond belief to see two normal
teenage boys, with healthy appetites for teenage girls, slurping
on one another's mouths simply because he'd ordered them to do
so. His dick now arched its reddish head toward his stomach, and
he stroked it from time to time as he watched his two beautiful
slaves devouring one another's faces. 

But James was dying to explore as many of the moment's erotic
possibilities as he could before reaching climax. This was like
one of the illegal sex shows that he'd read about, the risqu
performances that took place in Boston's underground clubs. Only
it was his very own private show, the actors were his slaves, and
HE was the director of the action.

"That's enough," James said excitedly. 

Abel pulled away from Elijah, gulped for air, and wiped off the
drool that was sliding down his chin, making sure the other hand
still hid his dick from Elijah and James. He hoped that the worst
was over, but gained no reassurance from the wild look in James's
usually calm and friendly eyes. 

"Take off your clothes, Elijah," James ordered. 

Elijah stood up and fumbled with the buttons on his shirt. He
shrugged it off his shoulders and tossed it to the floor, then
pushed his pants to the ground and stepped out of them,
completely naked. He reached instinctively to cover his crotch,
conscious of Abel's curious eyes taking in the sight of his naked
body. 

Abel was struck by the deep, chocolaty brown of Elijah's skin, as
well as his scrawny build and protruding ribcage, so different
from his own light skin and muscled, healthy build. He felt sorry
for the boy, thinking guiltily of his own hearty dinner the night
before. Despite his sympathy for the boy, Abel thought Elijah
looked dirty and unhealthy, and hoped he wouldn't be ordered to
touch the Field Negro any more.

"I want to see you roll around on the bed together," James
ordered. "Continue kissing, but rub your bodies together at the
same time." 

Abel looked disoriented, and sought in James's eyes some sign of
sympathy, some confirmation that it was all just a playful prank.
But all that met him there was the cold, unfamiliar stare of a
man in a crazed state of desire. The expression filled Abel with
dread and sorrow, for it was the same expression he'd seen in the
face of Master Walt's friend three years ago, before the man
tried to rape him. 

"Abel, lay on your back," James commanded gruffly. "Elijah, I
want you to rub against his body like you would if he was a
pretty girl." 

Abel resented being cast as the girl, but he knew he had no
choice but to resign himself to the assigned role. Scowling, he
inched slowly back on the bed and lay flat on his back, still
covering his crotch. Elijah walked reluctantly to the edge of the
bed, and he too was still shielding his dick from Abel's view. 

"Enough with the goddamn modesty!" James barked impatiently. 

Abel flinched, unfamiliar with this darker, angrier side to
Master James. 

"But Master James," Abel pleaded. "Boys aren't supposed to be
naked around each other, at least not like this. This isn't you,
Master James. You're not yourself today!"

"Nope, it's him alright," Elijah mumbled, hoping only Abel would
hear. 

"From this point on, you're only to speak when spoken to, do you
understand, Abel?" James snarled angrily. 

Gone were the fantasies of romance and companionship with his
charming houseboy. James knew he was sabotaging the tender
friendship he'd initiated the night before, and he hated himself
for doing it. But he was a man possessed by demons. The desire to
enjoy, abuse, degrade, and control the beautiful mulatto boy's
body was far more intense and overpowering than the lapse of
reason that for a split second had seduced him with the dream of
true friendship or romance with a Negro. 

"Consider this an EDUCATION, Abel!" James continued feverishly.
"And this bedroom is your classroom. I'm trying to give you an
education that will prove far more valuable in your future life
at Stampley Plantation than anything you'll find in my Uncle's
library. Do you understand?"

Elijah shot Abel a look that warned him not to argue any further.


"Yes, Master James," Abel sighed, staring at the ceiling and
struggling to fight back tears of disappointment and
disillusionment. Master James was destroying all his hopes of
equality and companionship with the white man. 

"Now both of you........remove those hands!" James ordered. 

Elijah shut his eyes in embarrassment and dropped his hands. Abel
gasped at the sight of the young man's massive six inches,
hanging long and thick over two enormous, dark, low-hanging
balls. He'd seen plenty of male genitals in Master Walt's art
books, and caught glimpses of his father's from time to time when
the old man got dressed in the morning, but he had no idea that a
man's dick could be so big, let alone a 14-year-old boy's. 

Abel shyly uncovered his own dick, even more insecure and
embarrassed now that he'd seen the monster dangling between
Elijah's legs. He thought his own four soft inches looked
shriveled and inferior in comparison. 

Elijah climbed onto the bed, and clumsily positioned himself on
all fours over Abel's reclined body. He looked sheepishly over
his shoulder at James, as if hoping the man had changed his mind.


James stood near the edge of the bed, pumping his red, erect
dick. 

Elijah looked down at Abel, whose eyes were shut as if he were
trying to meditate his way out of the unpleasant circumstances.
There was no denying the young man was handsome, even handsomer
than Lil Rooster, and if Abel lived in the slave quarters he'd
probably be more popular with the women than any buck on the
plantation. Elijah felt self-conscious of his gangly build and
African features   his wide nose with its flared nostrils; his
thick, chapped lips; his crispy, kinky hair; and his huge, dark
dick. He envied Abel's refined, "white" features. 

Elijah could tell Abel was scared, so he leaned down and
whispered in the older boy's ear: "It feels real gross at first,
but if we give Massuh what he want, it'll be over soon enough,
don't worry." 

Abel shut his eyes tightly and nodded nervously for Elijah to
proceed. Elijah slowly lowered himself until the entire length of
his body was pressed against Abel's. He lay still for a moment,
wondering what he should do next. He nuzzled Abel's neck and
tensely kissed the older boy on the lips. 

Abel stiffened, remembering Elijah's dirty appearance and
thinking the boy had a distinct, greasy odor. He took Elijah's
advice to heart, however, and wrapped his arms awkwardly around
the dark-skinned boy's sweaty back. 

As Elijah kissed Abel more deeply, he relaxed his body and moved
his hips in a sensual, circular motion. He grinded his crotch
against Abel's smooth, muscular stomach. He tried to imagine it
was Laney beneath him, but the firmness of Abel's body frustrated
his fantasies and kept his dick from getting hard. He was still
aware of James's ogling eyes, however, and since he was desperate
to stay in James's favor, Elijah tried his damnedest to put on a
satisfying show. He lowered his head to suck on Abel's taut,
dark-brown nipples, inspiring a moan of surprise from Abel. As he
licked the golden houseboy's nipples, Elijah pressed his hips
deeper and faster into the body beneath him, squishing his dick
against Abel's stomach. 

James stroked his dick eagerly, delighted by the sight of
Elijah's gorgeous brown bubble-butt, covered in a light sheen of
sweat, rising and falling, rising and falling. He laughed at the
two boys' stiffness, but found their clumsy discomfort intensely
arousing. Part of him wanted to join in on the fun, but he
decided to wait, knowing his involvement would break the erotic
spell of their awkward fumbling. 

As he rubbed his body against Abel's with increasing speed and
intensity, Elijah moved too low, causing his dick to slip beneath
Abel's balls and push against the smooth, sweaty crevice of the
houseboy's ass. Abel's eyes shot open in surprise, but Elijah
pretended not to notice and continued poking his thick but
still-soft dick against the older boy's ass-cheeks. 

The warmth of Abel's most private region reminded Elijah of the
pleasure he'd felt when fucking Thad, and the fantasies he'd
entertained while fondling Lil Rooster's half-naked ass in the
middle of the night. For several minutes, Elijah completely
forgot about Abel and Master James, and lost himself in a fantasy
that it was LIL ROOSTER lying beneath him. He imagined that it
was Lil Rooster's cocky, masculine face that he was devouring
with kisses. He decided it was Lil Rooster, not Abel, moaning and
shifting uncomfortably beneath his gyrating body. 

As he lost himself in these fantasies, Elijah's dick expanded
against his will until it was a throbbing nine inches poking at
Abel's ass-crack, rudely demanding entrance. Elijah savored the
sweaty warmth of the fold beneath Abel's balls, and guiltily
imagined how good it would feel to push deeper and enter the
older boy's most private of places. He kissed Abel more deeply,
moaning and licking the slick roof of Abel's mouth. He thrashed
wildly up and down, prodding against the houseboy's backside with
greater insistency. 

Elijah wondered if Master James would be upset if he attempted to
fuck Abel without permission. He knew Abel wouldn't like it, but
better him than me, Elijah thought guiltily. He was pretty sure
SOMEBODY was going to be fucked before the day was over, and he
sure as hell didn't want it to be him. 

Abel grew accustomed to the weird but tolerable feeling of
Elijah's sweaty body squishing against his own, but he became
alarmed when he felt the younger boy's dick lengthening and
hardening as it pushed against his ass. It was one thing for Abel
to let Master James put his dick inside him when he'd had no
other choice, but there was no way he was about to let another
boy, especially a lowly Field Negro, degrade him in such a
painful way. When Abel felt the head of Elijah's dick pry open
his ass-crack and nudge against his asshole, he couldn't take it
any more. He pushed Elijah off of him and bolted upright in the
bed. 

"I can't, Master James!" Abel exclaimed, pointing to the stunned
and embarrassed Elijah, now flat on his back and sporting an
enormous erection. "I know I let YOU put your thing inside me,
Master James, but please don't make me let HIM! He'll split me in
half with that thing!"

James stopped pumping his dick long enough to smile at Abel's
sincere terror and catch an eyeful of Elijah's expanded manhood.

"Now THAT'S what I like to see," James said, winking at Elijah.
"Somebody's ready to play." 

"No, it ain't like that, Massuh James," Elijah stuttered, looking
apologetically at Abel. "I mean........I was just........I didn't
mean to........"

"No need to apologize," James said, smiling devilishly. "You're
just showing Abel how these sessions are supposed to work. What
do you say we give Abel here his first taste of dick?"

Elijah looked hesitatingly in Abel's direction. 

Abel gulped and shook his head vehemently. "Please no, Master
James! I can't........I just can't, Master James. I'll get sick,
I'll throw up." 

Abel hated that his lifetime of flawless, faithful service to
white folks had all led up to this threat of disgusting
degradation, this one act of service he had to refuse. He
desperately wanted Master James's attention and affection, but
not like this. Anything but this. Just the THOUGHT of putting his
face near another man's dick made him nauseous. 

"I'm sure Elijah thought the same thing before HIS first time,"
James assured him. "And in less than a month, he's already turned
into quite the expert cocksucker, ain't that right, Elijah?"

Elijah's body stiffened in shame and annoyance, remembering Lil
Rooster's insults. 

"I 'spose, Massuh James," he agreed, not wanting to jeopardize
the search for his father. 

Abel looked at Elijah in amazement, dismayed as to how any
self-respecting boy could brag about doing something so
degrading. 

"Why don't you show Abel here how it's done?" James suggested,
jumping to join them on the bed. Kneeling, James grabbed a
handful of Elijah's tangled, wooly hair, shoved the boy down to
all fours, and pushed his hard, pulsating pole against the
slave-boy's unwilling lips. 

Abel stared on in shock and disgust as James jabbed his dick past
Elijah's thick lips, still wet from kissing Abel, causing Elijah
to cry out in alarm as it hit the back of his throat. James
slowly withdrew his dick, covered in slimy spit, and shoved it
back in again just as deeply. Elijah's eyes were squeezed shut in
miserable endurance, and he moaned and choked with every brutal
thrust. 

At one point, Elijah gasped for air, and pried James's hands from
the back of his neck. 

"I wanna show him another way," Elijah mumbled, looking up at
James for approval. With his right hand, he grabbed the base of
James's dick, and slurped on the upper half like a boy who hadn't
eaten in days. He settled into a bearable rhythm, bobbing up and
down energetically, using his hand to keep the lower half of
James's dick enclosed in a warm, wet grip. 

James leaned across Elijah's sloped back to grab a handful of the
boy's fleshy brown butt-cheeks, kneading and slapping them with
surprising aggression. Winking lecherously at Abel, James sucked
his middle finger into his mouth, then leaned over and slid it
between the dark, clenched line of Elijah's ass-crack. He
repeated this several times, each time pushing his finger deeper
and deeper between the folds of Elijah's ass-cheeks. 

Abel felt so sorry for Elijah that he had to look away. He also
dreaded the possibility that he'd be in the very same position
within minutes. James caught him looking away and yelled at him
to watch. Elijah let out a muffled gasp of pain as James pushed
his slick middle finger past Elijah's tightly sealed asshole,
resistant to invasion after a three-day vacation from violation.
Elijah slobbered on James's dick, trying his hardest to show the
enthusiasm he knew Master James desired, while James smacked,
groped, and fingered Elijah's ass. 

James relished the sloppy, eager sucking of Elijah's thick lips
on his dick, and he concluded with satisfaction that the boy had
developed some impressive skills over the course of the past
month. 

But James was ready to bury his dick in a fresh virgin mouth. He
slipped his dick out of Elijah's mouth, and nodded for Abel to
take the boy's place. Elijah gasped for air and collapsed on his
back in exhaustion and relief. 

Abel stared at James's dick, slick with saliva and precum, and
thought for sure he was going to throw up. But never in his life
had he disobeyed a white man, and he couldn't start now. Doing so
would only get him exiled to the fields, or worse. He knew he had
no choice but to submit to this unexpected fate, to learn how to
complete these new tasks with the excellence and diligence that
had earned him such a stellar reputation. 

Abel positioned himself on all fours, just as Elijah had been,
and looked fearfully at the throbbing red creature staring him in
the face. It was slick with Elijah's saliva, and Abel grimaced at
the thought of ingesting the other boy's spit. He nervously
grasped James's dick in his right friend, shut his eyes tightly,
and placed its tip between his thin, trembling lips. He held it
between his lips like that for a moment, not sure what to do, but
grateful that Master James was letting him take his time. 

James's cock tasted slimy and salty, and bittersweet precum oozed
from its tip. When Abel stopped to think what he was doing, he
started to gag, and had to take the dick out of his mouth for a
gulp of fresh air. Master James stroked his crispy dark curls,
coaxing him to continue. 

He put the dick back in his mouth, and attempted to fit another
couple inches. But again, the intrusion was too much, causing him
to choke and sputter in disgust. Abel looked back at Elijah, as
if to ask, "How the hell did you do this?" But all Elijah could
do was shrug sympathetically and nod for Abel to continue lest he
should provoke Master James's impatience. 

Recalling Elijah's trick, Abel formed a fist around the bottom
half of James's dick so that he wouldn't have to worry about
taking it all in his mouth at once. He wrapped his lips around
the head and proceeded to bob up and down, like a hen pecking at
seeds. In this way, he developed a system that could keep him
from vomiting. James had to warn him a couple times about
covering his teeth with his lips, but eventually he figured out
how to please his Master while sparing his own mouth the severity
of a full-on assault. When the stench and taste of dick became
too much for him, he pulled off to gasp for air, enjoying a
desperately needed rest by licking up and down the base of the
shaft, or swirling his tongue around the dark-pink edges of its
circumcised head. 

James sighed and hummed like it was the best blowjob ever. Abel
wasn't as experienced or talented as Elijah, but knowing that
James's dick was the first the young man had ever tasted, more
than made up for the occasional teeth-scratches. The sight of the
gorgeous mulatto boy on all fours, worshipping his dick with
grunts and gasps and winces of embarrassed pain, nearly pushed
James over the edge of orgasm. To avoid bringing the morning to a
premature halt, James pushed Abel off his dick and gestured for
Elijah to take James's place. 

Abel winced when he realized his Master's intentions. 

Still dazed from the assault on his own young body, Elijah
crawled over to James and perched on his knees so that both he
and James were kneeling side by side, with Abel before them on
all fours. 

Abel's eyes widened with anxiety when he saw Elijah's dick up
close. Even though it was now soft again, it still looked like a
menacing python, threatening to coil and strike at any moment.
Abel also noticed the patch of curly kinky hair above Elijah's
cock, and felt grateful for his own nest of soft, crow-black
pubic hair. Abel lifted the heavy member with his right hand and
placed the tip of it in his mouth. 

Elijah sighed with pleasure at the feeling of his dick being
engulfed in a hot, wet mouth. James had only sucked his dick once
before, and while Elijah remembered it feeling good, it was also
frustratingly brief and incomplete. The feel of Abel's lips
surrounding his thick manhood felt terrific, and he found himself
wishing the houseboy was more confident and experienced, so that
Elijah could bury his entire shaft down Abel's throat. 

Abel sucked tentatively on the tip of Elijah's cock, like a
kitten testing a bowl of milk presented to it by a stranger.
Abel's clumsy licks and slurps and sucking brought Elijah's cock
quickly to life, until it looked like a thick tree-branch
slapping and poking Abel in the face. Abel stretched his mouth as
wide as he could to receive Elijah's manhood, but he could only
manage two or three inches at a time without gagging. 

Elijah was torn between sympathy for Abel and the urgent, selfish
need to enjoy the pleasures of the older boy's body. He knew
firsthand the difficulty and humiliation of taking a dick in
one's mouth, but he also craved the pleasure he knew it could
provide. As his enjoyment mounted, Elijah's selfish desires took
complete possession of him. He seized Abel by the neck and rocked
his hips, gently at first, then more urgently, thrusting his dick
deeper and deeper into Abel's panicking mouth. 

For some reason, the houseboy's light skin only fueled Elijah's
frenzy. All roles were thrillingly reversed: House Nigger serving
Field Nigger, Older worshipping Younger, Mulatto in submission to
African. Elijah shoved his dick in and out of Abel's mouth with
increasing speed and violence, watching with guilty excitement as
slobber and precum oozed out of the corners of Abel's mouth and
dripped down his chin. 

While Elijah pummeled Abel's mouth, James turned his attention to
the handsome houseboy's muscled, hairless ass. He looked down and
shook his head in breathless amazement that any young man's ass
could be so perfect. Crouching behind Abel, James buried his face
between Abel's firm, perfectly rounded buttocks. He inhaled the
sweet, musky scent of mulatto-boy-ass. He sniffed hungrily at
Abel's asshole, savoring its smell of soap and sweat. Eager for a
taste of the young man's near-virgin rosebud, James darted his
tongue deep into Abel's ass-crack until it poked against the
tightly sealed opening buried inside. 

Abel cried out in surprise, but in doing so he only allowed
Elijah's cock easier access to the back of his throat. Abel
remembered James's bizarre fascination with his shit-hole during
their bath the night before, but this was taking things to a
whole new level. Abel could only conclude that any person
deriving pleasure from licking another male's asshole must be
afflicted with the gravest of mental illnesses.  

But James was deliriously happy as he lapped greedily at his
16-year-old houseboy's asshole. As he pressed his tongue against
the tiny opening, demanding entrance to the secret treasures of
Abel's rectum, James smacked and grasped at Abel's firm buttocks.
He still couldn't believe that such a flawless ass belonged to
HIM. He owned it, and could enjoy it as many times and in as many
ways as he wished. He could massage it, lick it, spank it, finger
it, whip it, or fuck it any time he felt the inclination. He
could take pleasure from Abel's body hundreds, maybe even
THOUSANDS, of times over the next few years, until the slave-boy
no longer held any physical appeal for him. 

Deep down, James knew Abel was more than just a pretty ass. He
recalled with a pang of regret the young man's eager friendliness
the night before. James acknowledged that Abel was a smart,
sensitive young man with hopes, fears, and dreams just like
anyone else. If James chose to free Abel from slavery, he knew
the young houseboy could easily become a successful writer,
politician, teacher, or businessman. But the possibilities within
James's reach were too seductive to pass up, and James realized
with shame that he lacked the moral strength and willpower to do
the right thing. Still, there was something liberating in this
conclusion, and James surrendered to the carnal pleasures of the
moment. 

Intoxicated by the musky smell of Abel's teenage ass, and worked
to a fever pitch of desire by the sounds of Abel slurping and
moaning and gagging on Elijah's thick cock, James decided it was
time to plunder the treasure that had offered up such exquisite
pleasures the night before. He spit into his hand and stroked his
dick until it was slick with saliva. He spread Abel's buttocks
and aimed the head of his dick at the houseboy's tiny pink
asshole. With one brutal thrust, James broke past its protective
opening and slowly sank his dick into the warm, ecstatic
squishiness of Abel's bowels. 

Abel screamed from the pain of the unexpected violation, and shot
James a careless look of anger and resentment.

James felt badly for hurting the young man, he honestly did, but
the sensation of Abel's asshole clutching at his dick was just
too intense to resist. He pushed his dick in slowly at first,
circling it around Abel's rectum in deliberate exploration. The
urge to possess the boy's body completely soon overwhelmed him,
however. He grabbed Abel's hips and accelerated the speed and
force of his thrusts until he was bucking violently into Abel's
backside. 

Abel smashed his face into the bed, hoping at least to have a
reprieve from Elijah's oral assault while James slammed into him
from behind. Elijah was close to the brink of orgasm, however,
and unwilling to abandon the addictive pleasures of Abel's mouth.
Elijah grabbed Abel by the chin and shoved his throbbing manhood
deep into Abel's weary mouth. Impaled on both ends, Abel lurched
painfully between James's dick pumping in and out of his aching
asshole, and Elijah's dick stretching his sore mouth. 

As Elijah watched James thrash into Abel's asshole like a madman,
he felt suddenly envious. He had a nagging curiosity to know if
the mulatto boy's ass felt as good as Thad's had felt. He
wondered if James would allow him to sample Abel's ass in
addition to Abel's mouth. He didn't want to betray a fellow
slave. But at the same time, he knew that since Abel had no
contact with the slave-cabin community, this was a rare
opportunity to explore his new desire in a way that wouldn't hurt
his little brother or expose himself as a "pussy-boy" to his
friends. 

Elijah made sheepish eye contact with Master James. 

"Massuh James," he spoke up nervously. "I was hopin' maybe I
might........ummmmm........you know........try doin' what you'se
doin'?"

Abel grunted in protest, his mouth still full of dick. There was
no doubt in his mind that taking Elijah's monstrous cock up his
butt would almost certainly kill him. At the very least, it would
cause irreparable damage to his insides. He shot Elijah a look of
surprise and anger for betraying him so casually. 

James paused in mid-thrust, and broke into a surprised smile. He
felt a mix of shame and satisfaction about Elijah's
transformation. In less than a month, James had taken an
innocent, nave Negro boy, shocked and disgusted by all forms of
sex between males, and corrupted him to the point that he was now
practically BEGGING to fuck another boy in the ass. James could
never have imagined such a change was possible on that first
night with the scared, reluctant slave-boy. He wondered if THIS
was the ultimate power of slavery, the ability to completely
alter another human being's personality and desires. It was a
tantalizing idea, and James found himself eager to watch the
evolution continue, not just with Elijah, but also Abel, and
Thad, and dozens of other slave-boys and men whose lives he could
disrupt and transform with just a snap of his fingers. 

Without saying a word, James pulled his dick out of Abel, moved
to the side, and motioned for Elijah to take his place. Elijah
removed his dick from Abel's mouth and hobbled on his knees to
position himself behind Abel. Abel rested his head on the bed,
his taut golden butt still arched into the air. 

Elijah's heart raced wildly in anticipation of the conquest to
come. He looked down at Abel's wrinkled asshole, still sloppy-wet
from James's spit. Elijah watched it open wide, then shut, wide,
then shut, panting in anticipation of another assault. Elijah
knew he should find this repulsive, but for some reason he felt
only awe and lust at the sight of the strange, private body part.


Nervous and inexperienced, Elijah fumbled to place the tip of his
cock against the inviting entrance. James kneeled nearby, eagerly
watching Elijah's every move. Elijah pushed clumsily against
Abel's asshole. Already loosened to accommodate James, it
stretched to receive the much thicker head of Elijah's dick.
Elijah shuddered with pleasure at the first sensation of
penetrating the houseboy's insides. 

Abel moaned in response to the increased size of the violation,
and grasped at the bed-sheets in a kind of silent scream. 

Elijah pushed with all his strength to sink his thick manhood
past the stubborn resistance of Abel's narrow rectal walls. He
watched in delirious pleasure as inch by inch of his massive pole
was sucked deeper and deeper into the houseboy's slippery dark
intestines. 

As soon as the invasion was complete, with all nine inches lodged
in Abel's clenched asshole, Elijah jerked like a wild stallion
trying to toss its rider. The sensations of having his dick
entombed between the firm, golden round globes of Abel's buttocks
were even better than he remembered them being with Thad, and
Elijah wished they could last for hours. He slammed his body
mercilessly into the body beneath him, pulling Abel backwards by
the hips so that his dick was swallowed to the hilt with every
eager thrust. Elijah once again imagined Lil Rooster in Abel's
place. He wanted to prove himself by stuffing his dick in the ass
of the cocky boy who had so obnoxiously and hurtfully challenged
his manhood.

Abel screamed like a woman giving birth. He felt Elijah stabbing
his insides like a dagger, and he half-expected Elijah's dick to
rip through his throat and burst out of his mouth at any minute.


Afraid that Abel's violent screams would wake the entire
plantation, James hobbled forward on his knees, lifted Abel so
that the boy was on all fours again, and waved his dick in Abel's
face. It was covered in a thick coating of spit, precum, and
ass-slime, and Abel dry-wretched at the sight of it. He was
thankful he hadn't eaten anything since the night before. 

Abel shook his head desperately, wanting to please Master James
but incapable of cooperating with such a revolting request. James
pressed his dick insistently against Abel's lips, smacking them
with it and wiping a string of pre-cum and ass-juice across the
boy's chin. Abel shuddered in disgust. But conscious of nothing
but his own compulsions, James used his hands to pry open Abel's
mouth and fill it with his messy appendage. Abel crinkled his
nose in disgust at the taste of his own insides. 

James stuffed Abel's mouth with his prick, rinsing it off with
every thrust down the traumatized boy's throat. James could tell
by Elijah's quick, raspy breaths that the boy was going to
explode at any minute, so he adapted the pace of his pumping to
match the speed and intensity of Elijah's fucking. 

Abel's stiffness and screams subsided, and his defeated body now
lunged limply in whatever direction the dicks impaling him
demanded. For a moment, James wondered if the boy had fainted
from the assault. For several minutes, the room echoed with
nothing but the sound of Elijah's large testicles slapping
against Abel's sweaty, slimy ass. 

The sight of Abel's body, stretched in submission before him, was
too much for James, and he flooded Abel's mouth with thick, tangy
cum. Surprised and disgusted, Abel reared back from the rush of
hot fluid filling his mouth, but James gripped Abel's head so
that his dick stayed lodged in his mouth, dumping every last drop
into the degraded boy's mouth and throat. Abel stubbornly sealed
off his throat, which caused him to sputter and choke so badly
that cum and slobber spilled out the corners of his mouth.

Elijah saw James's climax and worried that the selfish white man
might conclude the show before letting Elijah enjoy his own
climax. Elijah bucked vigorously in and out of Abel's ass, deep
and hard and fast, until the warmth and friction of Abel's
insides became so intense that he could feel his juices rushing
toward release. He pushed Abel flat against the bed, collapsed on
top of him, and nuzzled the houseboy's neck. With one final,
furious jerk of his body, Elijah spewed what seemed like
bucketfuls of his steamy 14-year-old semen into the houseboy's
prostrate body. His scrawny frame literally shook with pleasure
from the most powerful orgasm of his young life. He followed this
up with several mini-thrusts to wring every last drop from his
dick, savoring the sweet euphoria of spilling his seed deep
inside another young man's body. 

Abel burrowed his face into the bed in humiliation as he felt
Elijah's scalding juices splattering deep into his bowels. Next
to his face was a puddle of semen and slobber that had leaked
from his weary mouth. 

Never before had Abel felt so dirty and degraded. His throat was
raw and swollen, and his asshole felt like it was engulfed in
flames. Even worse than the PHYSICAL trauma, however, was the
despair and humiliation of being exploited and degraded like a
common animal. After all the years he'd taken pride in his
dignified service, proper speech, fancy clothes, and refined
manners, this is what he'd been reduced to: a naked, helpless
"nigger" with dicks crammed into his mouth and ass. 

But was this what he'd ALWAYS been? Had he simply deluded himself
to think he deserved the respect and admiration of white folks?
When Master Walt called him "special," or white people praised
his good looks, was this what they pictured? If one took away the
nice clothes and special privileges, wasn't he just a dirty,
common nigger like Elijah? If Master Walt was still alive, would
he rush to Abel's rescue, or join his nephew's sadistic fun? Abel
felt more alone and abandoned than he'd ever felt in his life,
and a stray tear escaped down his tan, freckled cheek. 

Elijah lay atop Abel's body, panting with relief and
exhilaration. Before meeting Master James, he never imagined such
pleasure existed in the world. Surely fucking a girl couldn't
feel any better? He felt guilty for showing Abel so little mercy,
but rationalized it by telling himself he was only PERFORMING for
Master James. He was playing a part, as a strategy to stay in
James's favor and ensure the continued search for his father. 

Still, he'd VOLUNTEERED to fuck Abel, which sort of made him an
accomplice, not a victim, to James's abusiveness. Maybe Lil
Rooster was right, Elijah reflected uneasily. Maybe Master James
was actually turning him into a "pussy-boy" after all. But he
only enjoyed GIVING dick, not TAKING it, Elijah reassured
himself. At least he wasn't like that slave Nelson that Lil
Rooster was telling him about. At least he didn't crave sucking
dick, or getting fucked. At least not yet. 

James collapsed beside the panting, sweaty bodies of his two
slave-boys, and threw his arm across Elijah's back. He felt dizzy
and elated. The air was thick with the smells of sweat, saliva,
semen, and teenage Negro flesh, combining to create a rich,
musky, intoxicating odor. 

This was the closest thing to paradise on earth, James thought to
himself: this unrestricted access to a limitless supply of
beautiful Negro boys like Abel and Elijah. It staggered the
imagination to picture a future of day after day, month after
month, year after year of mornings just like this, infinite
possibilities for erotic adventures with boys and men of all
ages, smells, sizes, skin complexions, and personalities. 

Just as he'd corrupted Elijah and degraded Abel, James could
determine the fates of every single one of Stampley Plantation's
248 slaves. He could orchestrate erotic entanglements involving
countless combinations and taboos: older with younger, friend
with friend, friend with enemy, father with son, daughter with
mother, brother with brother. The possibilities were endless.
Sure, the slaves on his plantation were complex, breathing,
feeling human beings. But they were also players in a private
theatrical production he could manipulate and enjoy for the rest
of his life. Because they were his puppets, and he was their
puppeteer. 

 















 





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