PZA Boy Stories

WannabeWhitman

The Adventures of Stampley Plantation

Chapters 4-5

Chapter 4
The Bribe (Part 2)

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

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

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

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

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

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

Out of nowhere, Lil Rooster said, "Hey, Thad 3; I hear 'Lij been turned into the new massuh's pussy. That true???"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"My Mama," Lil Rooster claimed convincingly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He decided to take his teasing to another level.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

All Thad knew was that he wasn't about to let anybody call his big brother a girl, especially a white man's girl.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Elijah's smile turned once again to a troubled frown when he remembered the high price he and his brother would have to pay for their reward.

"Ummmmm 3;" Elijah stuttered, not sure how to prepare his little brother for the trials to come. "Before Massuh helps us, he wants 3; he wants me to bring you with me to the Big House."

Thad's mouth dropped open in surprise.

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

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

"Sometimes 3; sometimes he makes me do gross things," Elijah added guiltily, looking at the floor. "He might ask you to do gross things too, but the thing is, Thad, we gotta do 'em or we'll never see Daddy again!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

James laughed at Elijah's half-truth.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

James laughed at the boy's diplomatic answer.

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

James sat Elijah back down between his legs and fondled the boy's soft six inches [15 cm].

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

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

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

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

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

Thad looked away, embarrassed and disbelieving.

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

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

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

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

"I was too scared to do anything about it 3; until now, that is. You're my slave, meaning I can do anything I want with you. Some Masters enjoy whipping their niggers 3; but me, I prefer other pleasures."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thad looked up at his brother in disgusted surprise.

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

James shoved Elijah down to all fours on the dirty wooden floor, just four or five feet [1.20-1.50 m] from the boy's little brother. James hastily stripped off his own shirt, pants, and shoes until he was standing completely naked in front of the stunned little ten-year-old.

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

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

"What the 3; ?!?" Thad cried out in sincere surprise. Suddenly Lil Rooster's obnoxious charade made complete sense. The ten-year-old stared at the sight before him as if aliens had just dropped from the sky.

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

Thad looked on, appalled and entranced.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Elijah's body stiffened with shame.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Stop hurting my brother!" Thad cried out in between heaving sobs. "Please stop hurting him, Massuh James! I'm sorry, 'Lij, I'm so sorry, 'Lij 3; I wish I could stop him but I can't."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Awwwwww, HELL NO!!!" Elijah shouted, forgetting for a moment that he was in the presence of a white man who could whip, sell, or lynch him with impunity. He clasped his hand to his mouth in hasty contrition. "I mean 3; please no, Massuh James! Don't make me do nothin' to hurt my little brother! Show us some mercy, Massuh James!"

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

"The way I see it," James explained calmly, "this IS mercy. Like it or not, Thad's gonna see and do things you can't protect him from. And isn't it better he learn them from an older brother who loves him, rather than someone like me who just might not show him any 3; mercy???"

Elijah looked anxiously at his little brother.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

James smiled in admiration at the naked little-boy-chest in front of him, and continued stroking his seven inches [18 cm] to life. He could easily circle Thad's skinny arms with his index finger and thumb. Thad's chest was flat as a washboard, with only the faintest hints of where the muscles of young manhood might develop in future years. He had the smallest nipples James had ever seen, cute specks of dark brown standing out from Thad's toffee-colored complexion. His belly button jutted out in the same way as his older brother's.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Elijah tried to cleanse his mind of these dirty thoughts, reminding himself of the pain such action inflicted on his own young body, and the even greater pain he knew getting fucked in the ass would cause his brother. He knew he had little choice in the matter, but he could at least choose not to enjoy his brother's suffering 3; couldn't he???

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thad stood up on wobbly knees, looking scared and shell-shocked. His eyes shot wide in dismay when he saw Elijah's rock-hard monster, grown to its full nine inches [23 cm], jutting out menacingly before him.

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

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

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

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

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

Positioning himself behind his brother's tiny bubble-butt, Elijah awkwardly poked his thick brown cock at his brother's small wrinkled hole. His manhood looked grotesquely huge in contrast to Thad's frail little body. He rubbed his cock against the saliva still smeared around Thad's asshole, left over from Elijah's probing fingers. Realizing that wouldn't be enough lubrication, Elijah spit in his hand and stroked up and down on his dick until it was thoroughly wet. He nervously pushed the thick dark head of his African python against his little brother's asshole, pressing harder and harder until it finally broke the surface and sank two or three inches [5-8 cm] into the depths beneath.

Thad's body convulsed in a pain beyond screams.

Elijah kept still as long as he could, allowing Thad to grow accustomed to the burning sensation. Eventually the warm wet bowels beckoned his cock deeper, and he shoved it in another two inches [5 cm], splitting open Thad's narrow virgin tunnel.

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

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

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

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

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

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

James felt like he was on the brink of orgasm. He smiled in amusement at Elijah's unexpected enthusiasm. His jaw dropped in awe when he realized Thad's tiny ass had taken all nine, thick inches [23 cm] of Elijah's African beast. Surely the poor boy would be limping for weeks!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chapter 5
Jacob

James was having a hell of a nightmare.

Dreams during daytime naps always seem the most disturbing, but this was unusually intense. James tossed and moaned in his sleep, the naked slumbering bodies of Elijah and Thad still pulled against his body.

James was kneeling on the dusty wooden floor, fucking Elijah on all fours just as he had no more than an hour earlier while the boy's little brother sat in the chair and watched.

Only instead of Thad sitting on the chair, it was James's mother, who'd died from yellow fever when he was twenty years old. Growing up, his father was always away on long business trips to England, leaving his mother to raise him alone. James had never been as close to another human being as he'd been to his mother, and it took him two years before his heart-wrenching grief dulled into a more general, bearable sadness.

James was horrified at his mother's unexpected presence in this perverse, embarrassing context. He stopped fucking Elijah and looked at his mother with the shocked and apologetic expression of a toddler who's just been caught in an act of disobedience. Instead of looking angry and appalled, however, his mother retained the calm, angelic expression she almost always had on her face when alive. She merely looked sad and disappointed, which made her son feel all the more ashamed.

"James Arthur Stampley," she said in the scolding tone no son ever wants to hear from the mother he loves. "What are you doing??? I realize I've abandoned you for the last ten years, but I know I raised you better than this! Why are you hurting that poor Negro boy???"

James opened his mouth to explain, but no words would come out. He tried to pull his dick out of Elijah, but his body was frozen to his slave-boy's in mid-fuck.

"Didn't I teach you about the Golden Rule, son?" his mother continued in a soft, sad voice. "Didn't I tell you to treat all God's creatures with kindness, no matter how dark or light their skin might be colored? Didn't I raise you better than to do such vile things to a helpless Negro boy?"

James struggled frantically to disentangle his body from Elijah's, which now felt cold and limp like a corpse's. Sounds of apology and explanation choked in his throat.

"And such words I heard come out of your mouth!" his mother exclaimed, shaking her head in disappointment. "Such ugly, hateful words! Treating this cute little Negro boy worse than you'd treat a dog or a horse! What have you turned into, son?"

Tears of shame and remorse ran down James's face. Finally words came to him and he cried out, "I'm sorry, Mama! Please forgive me, Mama! I'm so weak, Mama, and the temptation was so strong. Please forgive me, Mama!"

"You know what must be done, James," his mother said quietly.

"What?!? What must I do, Mama? Please tell me what to do!" James begged.

"You know what must be done," was all she said in reply. She repeated this mysterious mantra over and over.

"Tell me, Mama! Please tell me! I'm so sorry, Mama, I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry 3;"

James was shouting his apologies when he felt two tiny hands tugging on his arm.

"Wake up, Massuh James! You'se just havin' a bad dream!" he heard a child's voice coming from above him.

James's eyes shot open in terror and confusion. He saw the faces of Thad and Elijah looking down at him with concern. As soon as he remembered where he was, he bolted into a sitting position and looked at the wooden chair still sitting in the middle of the bedroom. It was empty. He lay back down, forehead still covered in sweat and chest still heaving from the emotional exertions of his nightmare.

Normally the presence of the two gorgeous slave-boys still nude and sitting at his sides would have been a welcome comfort after an unpleasant dream. But this afternoon was different. Thad and Elijah were reminders of his guilt, and he wanted desperately to be alone with the thoughts of his dead mother. He looked at the stopwatch on the table beside the bed and saw that it was already 2:15 p.m., nearly time for them to leave before Abel would come to clean the room.

"I'd like for you boys to go now," James said wearily.

Unmistakable looks of relief crossed both boys' faces. Elijah and Thad scrambled to retrieve their scattered clothes. James almost regretted his decision when he saw Elijah's beautiful dick – now crusted with cum, spit, and his little brother's ass-juices – dangling heavily as Elijah lifted his legs into his pants. James glanced at Thad, whose perfectly rounded bottom wiggled in the air as he bent over to collect his pants. The recollection of Elijah's thick dark dick forcing its way into the little bum flashed across James's mind, making his dick stir with its own curiosity to explore the forbidden pleasures of Thad's ten-year-old ass.

The memory of his disappointed mother chased this momentary lust away, however, and he turned to stare out the window at the afternoon sun. He looked back as the two brothers, now clothed in their tattered rags, started to leave the room.

"Oh, and Elijah 3;" James said hurriedly. "Don't 3; don't worry about coming back tonight."

Elijah looked startled, and could barely disguise his joy at the news. It had been ten nights since he'd enjoyed a peaceful night's sleep in his own bed.

"I'm afraid I'm not feeling well," James added, looking back out the window. "I'll send someone for you when I want to see you again."

"You gonna look for Daddy, like you promised us?" Elijah asked shyly, hoping his curiosity wouldn't enrage Master James and ruin the night's temporary freedom.

"I'll 3; I'll see what I can do, Elijah," James said guiltily, still looking away from the boys. "I enjoyed meeting you, Thad," he added, turning back for one last look at the beautiful little boy he had so far just barely touched.

"Thank you, Massuh James," Thad whispered, his eyes frozen on the ground. His asshole was still throbbing with pain, and he was impatient to get to the creek where he could clean and cool its fiery discomfort.

After the boys left, James put on his clothes, stripped the bed-sheets, grabbed clean clothes, and headed downstairs to his private bathroom in the east wing of the house. He'd ordered Abel to have a hot bath waiting for him every day at three o'clock.

As he sank his weary body into the hot water of his tin washtub – nearly twice the size of the one he'd seen Abel use – James reflected on his behavior with Elijah and Thad earlier that day.

In the calm of his sleeping sex drive (thanks to his recently emptied balls), James's domination and degradation of the two brothers seemed like the actions of a cruel madman, someone separate from and offensive to the sensibilities of the good person he felt himself to be at that moment.

Deep down, James knew he still believed slavery was evil. He knew he still believed in the ideals of human equality that made America, still in its infancy, such a unique and wonderful country. He knew that he didn't really believe a smart, handsome, good-natured boy like Elijah was a 'dumb nigger' or 'dirty pickaninny.'

In fact, he felt a strong pang of affection just thinking of the boy's cute stories, told in that raspy voice somewhere between a boy's and a man's. He wanted to know every action, thought, and feeling of Elijah's young life, inside and out. This is absurd, he thought to himself. What would people think if they knew a wealthy, now-powerful slave-owner like himself was spending every waking moment obsessing over a 14-year-old Negro boy?

Then again, he reassured himself, switch the gender and his was a story countless other slave-owners experienced in secret. He recalled reading the novel Clotel by William Wells Brown, along with other narratives of ex-slaves distributed by his Abolitionist friends, and hearing numerous lectures by former slaves in Boston. Even though people didn't talk about it, everybody knew Masters raped their slaves. For proof, all one had to do was look at the dozens of shades of color in the Negro population. In 1855, it was nearly impossible to find a purebred African anymore.

But what the slave narratives and lectures documented, the thing that few white folks wanted to admit, was the frequency with which Masters, sons, overseers, wives, and daughters fell insanely and obsessively in love with their slaves. With whites and Negroes living and working together in such unnatural intimacy, it was a wonder it didn't happen more frequently. Obsessive love is destructive even in the most equal of romantic partnerships, but add to it slavery's gift to one partner of complete power over the other, and tragedy was almost inevitable.

None of this offered much comfort to James as he distractedly stood to scrub his body with the soap and bristled brush Abel had dutifully laid on the stool beside his washtub.

If he truly loved Elijah, why did he get such a thrill from seeing the boy hurt and humiliated? Wouldn't a true and noble love be willing to sacrifice his own pleasure for the sake of Elijah's happiness? What was it within him that found it exciting to witness the corruption of Elijah and Thad's innocence? He'd also never uttered hateful, degrading names for Negroes before coming to Georgia. Was there something toxic in the Southern air that polluted one's mind with ugly words and callous brutality toward one's fellow human beings?

James had only been at Stampley Plantation for a little over three weeks, and already he'd turned into the lecherous Mr. Potter, calling slaves filthy names and laughing as he watched a Negro slave rape his little brother.

Was this whole thing just a sick practical joke?!? James laughed cynically to himself as he imagined Mr. Potter, Elijah, Thad, his friends from Boston, even his Uncle Walter, bursting into the room at any minute, laughing and shouting, "SURPRISE!!!!" Then revealing that the whole thing had been an elaborate trick to test his true feelings about slavery in the South. A test he had failed miserably and inexcusably.

James winced with shame as he remembered the dream of his dead mother. He wasn't a spiritual man, so he didn't believe his mother had literally visited him from the afterlife. But the vivid sight of her face, blurry in his memory for so many years, looking at him with sorrow and disappointment in her eyes, had filled him with shame and self-loathing. He interpreted her visitation as a message from his conscience, a message worth listening to.

"You know what must be done, James." The chilling words still rang in his ears. What exactly had his mother meant by that?

His first thought was that she was telling him to do what he'd intended to do three weeks ago when he first arrived at Stampley Plantation: Free all 248 of his slaves, sell the property, and enjoy the rest of his life traveling and enjoying life as an independently wealthy bachelor.

But James became dizzy and depressed when he thought about turning his back on the temptations of his new life, the possibilities he would never again have an opportunity to explore. If he freed his slaves and moved North, he'd be lucky to find two or three free Negroes interested in having sex with him. And even then, they'd probably be eager, sissy sodomites, not masculine, virgin boys and men new and reluctant to the world of male-male sex. He wouldn't be able to enjoy boys as young as Elijah and Thad without fear of being exiled or executed. He wouldn't have the same uninhibited power to do and say whatever he pleased during a sexual encounter.

A mother's rebuke is a powerful deterrent, but could he really set free the 150-plus boys and men on his plantation, knowing that as things currently stood, he could enjoy every single one, and thousands more, in limitless combinations, positions, and fetishes, every single day for the rest of his life?!? Was he willing to let his conscience rob him of the chance to sample Thad's virgin mouth and near-virgin ass?

James's mind did somersaults to come up with a less extreme and painful interpretation of his mother's haunting words. She mentioned nothing of the other slaves, he rationalized. She merely seemed concerned with Elijah's welfare. Perhaps she was simply reminding him to keep his promise to the boy, to make up for the child's suffering by reuniting him with his father. The longer he thought on it, the more convincing his theory seemed.

Yes, he eagerly told himself. He wouldn't do anything as rash as freeing his slaves just yet, but he could perform an act of kindness that would keep his word, appease his dead mother/conscience, and inspire the gratitude, perhaps even love, of the boy he was developing such intense feelings for.

Satisfied and relieved with this hasty and morally dubious compromise, James finished his bath and resumed his afternoon routine with renewed vigor.

He spent an hour rummaging through papers in his Uncle's study, hoping to find records of slave sales, or at the very least the name of the attorney his Uncle used to arrange such transactions. He didn't have any luck. It became quickly obvious that Uncle Walter hadn't cared much for keeping records, or at least not for keeping them organized. It looked like his Uncle had consulted at least a dozen different attorneys over the past five years, and none seemed to stand out as an expert on the legalities of slave sales and purchases.

That night over supper, James asked Mr. Potter where he could find the attorney most likely to have overseen, or at least be knowledgeable of, all slave sales on the Stampley Plantation over the past ten years.

After some curious teasing, Mr. Potter gave him the names of three prominent attorneys and the owner of the nearest slave-market. All of them resided in the small metropolis of Columbus, Georgia, about a day's wagon-ride south of Potter County.

Impatient to pursue his intentions before changing his mind, James asked Mr. Potter to arrange a wagon and driver for early the next morning. He would spend the night in Columbus, conduct his business the following day, and return to Stampley Plantation three days later. Mr. Potter offered to accompany him on the trip, but James politely refused. He knew the talkative man wouldn't give him the time he needed to think, and besides, this was something he wanted to do on his own.

The fresh air and change of scenery would do him some good, James reflected as he went to bed later that night, the first night he'd gone to bed alone for over a week. It would help him clear his head and get some desperately needed perspective on the past three weeks. At the very least, it would get his mind off the slave-boy that made his heart do back-flips every time he pictured him.

Or so James hoped.

***

Only two things kept Jacob the stable-boy from stealing one of the overseer's guns and blowing his brains out: Fucking pussy, and hating white folks.

He loved the one as much as he despised the other, and pursued both with equal enthusiasm. Other than his little sister Laney, they were the only two things in the world that made it worth getting out of bed each morning.

He'd hated white folks for as long as he could remember. As young as five, he was already cautious and vaguely fearful of the ugly overseers, reeking of sweat and alcohol, who would sometimes stroll through the slave quarters and whistle obnoxiously at the pretty girls and women. He remembered his first sparks of anger and resentment when they'd disrupt a game of marbles with a kick of their boots, laughing as the marbles scattered in every direction.

When Jacob was eight, fear and annoyance flamed into full-blown hatred. One day three of the overseers thought it was funny to grab him from his playmates, hold his little body upside down by the feet, and dunk him head-first into one of the older women's tubs of water, dirty from washing clothes. They held his head under the water for up to a minute at a time, laughing hysterically as his arms and legs jerked and flailed in panic that they were going to drown him. They pinched and slapped his cheeks every time they'd pull him out of the bucket – water, snot, and tears gushing from his face as he screamed in helpless terror. The older Negro women who kept an eye on the slave children while their parents worked in the fields, were powerless to stop the sadistic prank. All they could do was look at the ground and shake their heads. At their age, the creative cruelties of white men were no longer capable of surprising them.

But that was mild compared to what Jacob had experienced at the hands of white men during his eighteen years on Stampley Plantation.

At the age of fourteen, four overseers, obviously drunk, stormed into his family's cabin late at night, armed with whips and guns. Two of them restrained him and his father and forced them to watch as the other two overseers raped his mother and Laney, who was only ten years old at the time. Those two switched places so that the one who'd been fucking Jacob's mother then fucked Laney, and vice versa. Then they took over guard-duty for the other two, holding back the enraged but powerless father and son while their intoxicated buddies had their way with the mother and sister.

Jacob's mother drowned herself in the creek two days later, and his father was a broken man from that day forward.

Jacob's horror at what he'd been forced to witness, and grief over his mother's suicide, quickly turned into a fierce and suffocating hatred for all things white. The only thing that stopped him from slaughtering as many white men as he could before being captured, was his deep love for Laney and his father. He knew they couldn't survive the loss of another loved one, so he repressed his desire for revenge to spare them further tragedy.

At least his life hadn't been bad as far as physical labor was concerned. Instead of being dragged off to the fields at the age of 14 or 15 like his friends, Jacob was trained by his father to be an assistant stable-hand. He learned to feed and care for Master Walt's horses and livestock, while his father worked as a driver when Master Walt or one of the overseers needed to head to town or take longer trips elsewhere. Not only was it a rare privilege to work so closely with his father, but it was also a job with relatively little oversight by the overseers, and tiring but not unbearable labor. Best of all, it spared him from extensive interaction with white folks.

Until he was fool enough to get caught fucking Becky, Master Walt's cook, one day in the hayloft when he was 17. It wasn't his fault. Becky's the one who came on to him, and his horny teenage dick had never been one to turn down easy pussy. He felt guilty afterwards, thinking about Becky's husband Abraham and son Abel, but he didn't know the half of it until Master Walt caught wind of the affair.

Apparently Master Walt had a thing for Becky years ago, and the more shameless gossips in the slave-quarters even whispered that Abel was in fact the offspring of Master Walt rather than Abraham. "Ain't nobody light as that boy done come from an African-lookin' nigger like Abraham," they concluded.

Unfortunately for Jacob, he was apparently the last Stampley slave to learn of the rumors, and by that time the damage was already done. Even though the affair had supposedly died out years ago, the news of Jacob's careless mistake awakened the passions of Master Walt's younger years, sending the older white man into a fit of petty jealousy and revenge. The Master and overseers began to find fault with everything he did or allegedly didn't do. Whippings, a relatively rare occurrence under the ownership of Master Walt, became a weekly, sometimes even daily, occurrence, with Jacob as the sole recipient of the punishments. Jacob's hatred fueled him with enough adrenaline to endure his whippings, but it wasn't enough to prepare him for Master Walt's next level of vindictiveness.

One day his father was ordered by one of the overseers to carry a bag of grain-feed from the wagon to the stable. The overseer knew the load was too heavy for the elderly man's frail shoulders, but made him do it anyway. While carrying the unwieldy burden, his father tripped and sprained his ankle. Claiming the man's injured old bones were no longer useful to him, Master Walt shipped him off to Columbus the next morning and sold him for less than the price of a saddle.

Master Walt kept many elderly slaves on the plantation. Jacob knew his father's sale was done solely to spite Jacob for putting his dick in a piece of pussy his Master fancied.

Not only did his father's sale mean more heartache for him and Laney, but it also meant more work for Jacob. Instead of purchasing or promoting a younger slave for his father's position, Master Walt required that Jacob perform the work of two slaves. If the Master or one of the overseers needed his services as a driver during the day, he had to make up for the lost time late into the night, cleaning the animal-pens and feeding the livestock.

At 18, Jacob played the role of 'happy darky' well. Hell, he'd been trained in it since birth, and his nearly pitch-black skin added a nice touch to his grinning, groveling performances. But beneath the "Yes, Massuhs" and "I'se sho sorry, Massuhs," Jacob's hatred for white people had turned into a seething contempt and intractable animosity as natural to him as breathing.

The only release Jacob found from this pent-up hostility was through fucking.

He'd been fucking girls since the age of 13, and considered himself pretty damn good at it. Sometimes he'd have to go 'steady' with one of the girls for a couple weeks before she'd lift her skirts for him, but the flings he preferred were the stolen quickies in the hayloft, woods, or slave-cabins, sometimes with married women who'd sneak away from the fields for an afternoon fuck.

Sex provided Jacob an escape from the work and tragedy of his life. He liked it because it was something he could do with absolute freedom from the white man's control. When he moved his dick in just the right way to make the girl howl and beg for more, it gave him a sense of pride and accomplishment, knowing that it was a talent for which he could take total credit.

Of course he enjoyed the feeling of a tight, wet pussy sucking on his manhood, but what he loved more than anything was the moment of climax. Fucking became a substitute for violence, his hips thrusting into the girl beneath him with the ferocity with which he longed to stab or beat a white man, any white man, to death. Sometimes he'd even forget the needs of the girl beneath him, clenching his eyes shut and visualizing scenes of blood and violence as his black, sweaty body slammed ruthlessly into her again and again. Once or twice he'd opened his eyes to see the girl staring with fear into his wild face with its distant, murderous look, and she'd futilely strain to free herself from the muscled body pinning her down. When the moment finally came for him to explode his steaming, pent-up load deep between the girl's spread legs, Jacob took it as an act of divine compassion, a chance for him to release all the pain and hatred of his young, fucked-up life. In those first hours after climax, Jacob always felt the least hateful and most contented he knew he'd probably ever feel.

On average Jacob fucked a different girl a week, sometimes as many as three different girls in one day. Rumors of his sexual skills spread quickly, and the slave girls and women eagerly threw themselves at him most of the time.

One time when he was 16, however, one of his former conquests, jealous and angry that he didn't want to settle down with her, spread a false rumor about a nasty infection on his dick, resulting in a pussy famine that lasted for nearly a month. Being a teenage boy accustomed to getting his dick wet any time he wanted, Jacob suffered the loss sharply.

Eventually Jacob became so desperate that he experimented with some of the plantation boys.

One of his buddies named Nelson had been purchased a couple years back from a plantation where the Master and several of the overseers preferred the mouths and asses of Negro boys to the mouths and pussies of Negro girls. Everybody knew it, but Nelson never liked to talk about it.

But one late night during the infamous 'pussy famine,' Jacob, Nelson, Jacob's best friend Solomon, and another buddy named Charlie, were hanging out together in the stable. They were sitting on short wooden stools and drinking some of the homemade liquor made secretly in the woods on Sundays by some of the older slave-men using dandelions or stolen corn as their main ingredients.

After having a little too much to drink, Nelson started telling Jacob and the two other teenage boys about his experiences at his former plantation. He said that at first he'd hated what the white bastards forced him to do, starting at the age of 14. But then he went on to say that eventually he got used to the feeling, and started telling them in slurred words how a wet mouth on a hard dick felt good no matter who the mouth belonged to, and that a boy's ass felt even better than pussy because it was so much tighter. He even confessed that sucking dick and taking dick up the ass wasn't as bad as it might seem based on the jokes and good-natured ribbing so common in the talk of Negro boys and men. He said it actually felt good once you got used to it.

Jacob was surprised when he first heard Nelson talk that way, because Nelson always looked and acted just as much a man as Jacob, and he couldn't imagine Nelson on all fours sucking a guy's dick, or on his back, legs spread in the air, while another boy or man fucked his ass just like it was pussy. Jacob felt sort of sorry for the kid, and could only figure that the white motherfuckers on Nelson's old plantation had raped the poor guy so many times that he eventually began believing he was nothing more than a cock-sucking piece of boy-pussy for men to enjoy.

Taking another swig of liquor from the large jug the boys were sharing, Nelson suddenly looked nervously around at Jacob and the other two and asked if they wanted to get their dicks sucked or fuck him in the ass. To see with their own eyes he wasn't lying, he said.

Of course they all laughed and told him to "shut the fuck up about that nasty shit," but those first moments of drunken, dismissive laughter were followed by an awkward silence.

It had been nearly three weeks since Jacob had fucked any pussy, and three days since he'd jacked his dick. He couldn't help but find himself at least a little bit curious to see what Nelson was talking about. For a teenage boy who loved sex as much as Jacob did, what harm could come from it? As long as it felt good and brought him to one of his fierce, ecstatic climaxes was all that Jacob cared about.

And maybe it was just the dizzying effect of the whiskey, but Nelson was actually looking good to him just then. He had smooth dark skin, not as dark as Jacob's but close; short crispy hair cut close to his head; thick, purplish-red lips; and pretty, almost feminine eyes. He would have been good-looking as either a boy or girl, Jacob thought, but Jacob liked the fact that Nelson still had a deep voice and slender, lightly muscled build normal for a teenage boy. He didn't sound, walk, or talk like a girl.

Jacob grabbed the jug from Nelson and took a long drink, looking nervously at his buddies to see if they shared his drunken curiosity. They looked back at him with the same sheepish looks, nobody wanting to be the first to admit what they all were thinking.

Sensing that his friends' curiosity was inhibited only by their stubborn masculine pride, Nelson wobbled to his feet, grabbed Jacob by the hand, and pulled him to a standing position from the short wooden stool on which he'd been sitting. Nelson dropped to his knees and began fumbling with the belt of Jacob's dirty cotton pants.

Jacob looked over at Solomon and Charlie with a nervous smile, as if to say, "I can't believe I'm about to let him do this!"

Delayed by his drunkenness but certainly not by any apparent lack of eagerness, Nelson finally unbuckled the troublesome belt, and yanked Jacob's pants down till they rested around his ankles and bare feet. Nelson wasted no time getting Jacob's dick wet, swallowing nearly all of Jacob's thick eight inches [20 cm] with his first gulp. Nelson grabbed the base of the dick with his right hand and began sucking it with ferocious eagerness, moaning and slurping on it just like a girl.

Better than a girl! Jacob had enjoyed dozens if not hundreds of blowjobs since the age of thirteen, but none had swallowed his dick as deeply and eagerly as Nelson did that night. Damn, Jacob thought to himself, those white motherfuckers had turned the poor kid into one hell of an expert cocksucker. Jacob felt a pang of guilt for taking pleasure in the result of the white men's perversions.

The warm, tight suction of Nelson's wet mouth quickly chased away all reservations, however. Jacob leaned his head back, closed his eyes, and slowly began rocking his hips so that his dick pushed in and out of Nelson's mouth.

Jacob loved the way Nelson took all of his dick in his mouth, smashing his nose into Jacob's thick patch of nappy pubic hair until the entire shaft was buried in his throat. Nelson even choked and gagged like it was all part of the fun. Most bitches were on their feet and out the door the first second they even thought they might gag, but Nelson was devouring his dick like he was competing for a ribbon at the Potter County Fair.

Just as Jacob was being transported to that place of concentrated hostility and impending release, Nelson pulled his mouth off his dick with a loud slurping noise and took a deep breath. Nelson nodded his head at Solomon to stand beside Jacob. Solomon reluctantly complied, standing awkwardly next to his friend as Nelson worked Solomon's pants to the ground.

Solomon was close to seven feet [1.80 m] tall, with a wiry build and light-golden skin. He had a long face that Jacob knew the girls found attractive, with green eyes, thin lips, and a thin layer of black fuzz above his upper lip. Jacob glanced at his friend's now-naked dick out of the corner of his eye, and almost laughed when he saw how huge it was. It still hung soft from nervousness, but even in its shrunken state it hung a thin but impressive nine or ten inches [23-25 cm] at least, its foreskin still closed around the tip. Clearly Solomon's obvious white ancestry hadn't affected the size of his manhood. Jacob thought it seemed a dick fitting with his friend's tall, lanky build.

Nelson smiled up at Solomon and shook his head back and forth in eager disbelief before scooping the sleeping giant up in his mouth for a first taste. Solomon's eyes looked drunk and dazed, but his dick sprang quickly to life under Nelson's experienced tongue-swirling. Soon it was a good eleven inches [28 cm] jerking toward the ceiling, looking like one of the long cane-poles the boys used for fishing. Even after years of cock-sucking, Nelson could only fit a little more than half of it in his mouth.

Jacob reached down and began stroking his own dick, partly to keep it hard and ready for the return of Nelson's mouth. But also because he found himself uneasily aroused by the sight of Solomon's narrow dick sliding in and out of Nelson's slobbery mouth, drool dripping from the cocksucking slave-boy's chin every time the dick slipped from out of his lips. Solomon's entire body was comically tense, his eyes shut tightly in embarrassment.

Charlie didn't wait for Nelson's invitation to join the fun. He stood up, untied the string looped through his ragged pants, and shoved them down around his ankles.

Charlie was shorter than Jacob, with a younger-looking build that nevertheless showed some tight adolescent muscles. He had a round boyish face, dark-brown skin, medium-length wooly hair, thick African nose, and a devastating smile he used frequently to woo the ladies. His dick was a thick, stubby seven inches [18 cm], and much darker than the rest of his brown skin. Jacob guessed most girls would be glad to get their hands on a dick like Charlie's, but it looked absurdly small next to Solomon's wakened monster.

Showing none of Solomon's nervousness, Charlie grabbed the back of Nelson's neck, pulling the boy's mouth off Solomon's dick and replacing it with his own rock-hard, circumcised dick. Nelson took Charlie's manhood easily into his mouth, sucking up and down the shaft with gleeful ease.

The three teenage boys stood like that for what felt like an hour, stiffly but closely together in a row, pants in crumpled piles around their bare feet. Nelson took turns gulping down each of the boy's dicks, choking and slobbering with delight. While one boy enjoyed the intense pleasure of his attention, the other two continued stroking eagerly, sometimes shutting their eyes in solitary reflection, at other times guiltily staring at the dick of the friend being sucked at the time.

Eager to see how far he could push the boundaries of his buddies' curiosity, Nelson suddenly stood and looked at his dizzy, horny friends with a mischievous smile. He unbuckled his own pants, locking eyes with the other boys as he did so. He dropped his pants to his ankles, but didn't step out of them. His own seven and a half inch [19 cm] ebony-colored cock jutted from his body at an angle almost parallel to the stable's dirt floor.

Still smiling devilishly at his friends, Nelson snorted a huge wad of spit into his mouth, then spit it directly into the palm of his right hand. Still standing, he then reached behind his back and began rubbing the spit into the crack of his ass. Without a word, Nelson grabbed one of the four stools on which the boys had been sitting, and placed it in the middle of that particular room in the stable. He then bent over, pushed the smooth shiny half-globes of his black ass toward his buddies, and grabbed the stool firmly in both hands for support.

Jacob was embarrassed to admit it, but Nelson's taut, hairless ass looked as round and inviting as any he'd ever seen on a girl. For a second he worried about getting shit on his dick, but figured Nelson knew what he was doing and wouldn't tempt them if he weren't confident they'd enjoy themselves. The three weeks without pussy and three days without shooting his load had worked Jacob into a horny frenzy. He knew his friends were too proud to go first, so he thought "what the hell," stepped out of his pants, and walked over to Nelson's welcoming buttocks, hard dick grasped eagerly in hand.

He stood there uncertainly at first, naked from the waist down. He imagined one fucked a boy's ass probably the same way one mounted a girl's pussy from behind. With his hands he grabbed Nelson's hips, partly covered by the boy's ragged shirt. He then pulled Nelson's ass toward his crotch and clumsily began poking his hungry dick into the dark crack of his friend's ass.

Having trouble finding his desired target, Jacob spread Nelson's ass-cheeks with both hands until he could see the small, black-purplish ring of his buddy's asshole. It was the first male asshole he'd ever seen, but Jacob thought it didn't look all that different from those he'd seen on girls, visible and winking sometimes when he entered them from behind.

Nelson's asshole was glistening with the spit he'd just smeared around it. Jacob could smell the distinct funky odor of a teenage boy's sweaty ass, but it didn't smell like shit or anything foul like that. Better than the way a lot of girls' pussies smelled, he thought with amusement.

Impatient to release his pent-up load, Jacob showed Nelson no tenderness as he pressed his dick against the boy's tight opening and forced his way in with an aggressive thrust. Nelson's body lurched forward to escape the intrusion, then slowly eased backwards, swallowing Jacob's dick deeper and deeper as it moved. Nelson grunted in pain and surprise at the violence of the first entry.

For a second, Jacob felt like a 13-year-old virgin all over again, strange and embarrassed to have his dick suddenly shoved up his friend's shit-hole. But his experience and talent quickly took over, urged on by the warm, squishy grip of his buddy's insides. Soon Jacob was bucking wildly in and out of Nelson's half-naked body, and the slurping, sucking, mini-farting sounds of ass-fucking filled the quiet night air. These were joined by Nelson's deep grunts and groans as his body rocked forward with every one of Jacob's aggressive thrusts.

At one point Jacob pumped into Nelson so furiously that it knocked the stool from out of his hands. Solomon and Charlie laughed, but Jacob only sped up his fucking, forcing Nelson to rest both hands on his knees while Jacob held him by the hips and slammed into him from behind, Nelson's pants still in a pile around his naked feet.

Solomon and Charlie were still standing and stroking their dicks, watching the scene before them with a mixture of surprise, disgust, and fascination.

Jacob knew it was gross to be fucking a guy, but when he closed his eyes and imagined Nelson was a girl, he really couldn't tell any difference. Jacob thought to himself that for a boy who'd probably been butt-fucked dozens if not hundreds of times in his young life, Nelson still had a remarkably tight asshole. In fact, Nelson hadn't lied 3; his asshole actually felt hotter and tighter even than the handful of virgins Jacob had been lucky enough to deflower.

Soon the new yet familiar pleasures thrilling Jacob's body took him to the mental place where sex mingled with violence and lust turned to hatred. He lunged his body brutally into his friend, increasing the frequency and intensity of his thrusts to such a breakneck speed that even the experienced Nelson screamed out in surprise and protest. Jacob was deaf to his partner's cries, however, and continued pummeling the body before him as if were every ugly, spiteful white man that had ever hurt or insulted him.

Eventually he felt rising from deep within his balls the build-up of the past three days, the physical and psychological release he so desperately craved. Digging his fingers tightly into Nelson's slender hips, Jacob pulled the boy's ass firmly toward him, forcing his thick eight inches [20 cm] deep into his buddy's bowels. He stopped his thrusting and held Nelson's body still in that position as he pumped a geyser of hot, thick-white cum into his friend's thirsty asshole. He felt his body slowly depleted of all repressed frustration and hostility, until it was gradually replaced with a pleasant, restful calm.

When he was confident every last drop had been swallowed into his friend's rectum, Jacob withdrew his half-hard dick, slimy with spit, cum, and a few specks of shit. Jacob's euphoria was so intense that at that point he no longer cared. He collapsed half-naked on a bale of hay in the corner of the room.

Solomon, now more confident and comfortable than earlier, wasted no time moving in to take Jacob's place. With the lubrication of Jacob's cum, now leaking out of Nelson's panting asshole, Solomon's gigantic dick had no trouble entering his friend's ravaged backside. It still had a good three inches [7½ cm] of unexplored tunnel, however, and Nelson moaned loudly as Solomon forced his way deeper into Nelson's ass than most men could ever dream of being.

Solomon looked awkward at first, but like Jacob he rapidly adjusted to the new pleasure of fucking another male's asshole. His height made the current position uncomfortable, however, so he pushed Nelson to his knees on the dirt floor, then flat on his stomach against the ground. With both hands pressed against the floor several inches above Nelson's head, Solomon lay himself parallel to his buddy's body as if he were about to do push-ups, his lanky arms rippling with teenage muscles beneath his cotton shirt.

Once comfortable in his new position, Solomon pushed his dick once again into the warm, wet cavern of Nelson's ass. He fucked with long, slow strokes, each time burying his eleven-inch [28 cm] manhood deep into his friend's guts until his curly jungle of black pubic hairs smashed against the sweaty clenched muscles of Nelson's ass-cheeks. Nelson tucked his head beneath his arms to muffle his moans of pain mingled with ecstasy.

>From where he sat in the corner, Jacob had a full view of Solomon's smooth golden buttocks as they rose up and down above Nelson's prostrate body. Against Jacob's conscious will, his dick stirred to renewed life at the sight. He was confused and embarrassed to realize that he was drooling over his best friend's ass like it was a piece of good pussy. Never before in his life had Jacob ever looked at Solomon's ass that way. He'd seen it hundreds of times at the swimming-hole growing up, but it had never held any interest for him whatsoever, sexual or otherwise. But now as he watched the muscles of both ass-cheeks clench and ripple with every downward thrust, Jacob remembered how good Nelson's ass had felt just moments before, and imagined how much tighter, firmer, and hotter Solomon's virgin ass would feel wrapped around his own meaty eight inches [20 cm].

Jacob's dick rose to a full erection, but he knew he could only dream of plundering his best friend's masculine, untouched asshole. It didn't matter how close they were, Solomon would sure as hell punch him in the face before letting Jacob anywhere near his ass with a hard dick. That knowledge didn't stop him from enjoying the sight before him, and stroking his dick, still greasy from Nelson's insides, as he did so.

His dick now eager for a second release, Jacob jumped to his feet and walked over to where Nelson was sprawled on the ground. He kneeled uncomfortably and stretched his legs wider and lower until his dick fit nicely into Nelson's mouth, muffling the boy's moans as Solomon continued with his slow but brutally deep strokes. Nelson wrinkled his nose in disgust when he realized he was licking a dick still covered in his own ass-slime, but quickly surrendered to the humiliation and resumed his greedy sucking.

Jacob's new position placed him in an awkwardly close proximity to Solomon's body. Solomon's upper-body arched upward as his hips thrust downward, his hands pressed into Nelson's upper back for support. Squatting with his crotch stuffed in Nelson's face, Jacob found his own face perilously close to Solomon's, so close that he could see and smell the sweat from his friend's light-gold forehead dripping onto the shirt covering Nelson's back.

At first they were both careful to avoid eye contact, uncomfortable with this strange and sudden intimacy. Motivated by lust and alcohol, Jacob eventually dared to lock eyes with his best friend. The two teenage boys stared into each other's eyes, uneasily at first, then with the intense affection of a lifetime's friendship. It was erotic beyond Jacob's wildest imagination to look at Solomon in this way – so new and yet seemingly so natural – as they both penetrated opposite ends of Nelson's body.

Jacob was shocked to find himself staring at Solomon's red, wet lips, the lower lip bitten in concentration as Solomon pushed in and out of the ass beneath him. Jacob wondered what it would be like to kiss them, then tried to shake the thought from his mind. Fuck, he thought to himself. Three weeks without pussy and he was already turning sissy.

But hadn't he always had a strong curiosity to try new things? Hadn't he always tried to take the most pleasure he could from his wretched life? So why should this moment be any different?

The wisps of dark fuzz on Solomon's upper lip drew him like a magnet. Jacob leaned a couple inches closer, wondering how his best friend would react. Solomon turned his head away and closed his eyes, focused intently on the pleasure of Nelson's bubble butt slurping tightly on his long pole of a dick. Jacob realized with disappointment and embarrassment that kissing his friend was out of the question.

Urged on by the wet sucking noises and occasional gagging of Nelson's mouth, Jacob suddenly leaned in and rested his head clumsily and nervously against Solomon's shoulder. He could feel and smell Solomon's sweat slowly soaking through the thin scratchy material of his shirt.

His friend stiffened but didn't push him away. They remained locked in that awkward but tender embrace for several minutes. Jacob inhaled the scent of his best friend's breath and skin as he enjoyed the feel of Nelson's thick wet lips wrapped around his dick. For the first time in his life, Jacob felt the onset of orgasm without hatred or aggression. He felt nothing but intense love for his lifelong friend, and grateful pleasure from Nelson's talented mouth.

Solomon lasted longer than Jacob had the first time, but eventually shuddered to an intense climax, spitting out streams of cum to join Jacob's spunk still sloshing around Nelson's rectum. Seconds later, Jacob spurted five ropes of creamy cum down Nelson's open throat, his head still laying on Solomon's bony warm shoulder.

Like Jacob before him, Solomon had no interest in any further intimacy with the friend he'd just fucked. He gently slid out from beneath Jacob's head, pulled his dick out of Nelson's ass, stood up, cleaned off his dick with a dirty rag hanging nearby, then hastily returned to his pants and pulled them back on.

Charlie was still rock-hard and stroking, but shook his head 'no' when Nelson wearily looked back to see if he wanted to take his turn. Apparently the idea of ass-fucking was still dirty and unappealing, even for his horny inebriated mind.

Nelson stood and walked over to him, cum dripping from his ass to the floor, then kneeled to take Charlie's thick, stumpy pole in his mouth. Charlie fucked Nelson's mouth like the other two boys had fucked Nelson's ass, and within a minute or two began unloading spurts of runny cum into his friend's enthusiastic mouth.

Timed almost perfectly with Charlie's climax, Nelson oozed out a seemingly endless stream of thick cum that ran sluggishly down his dick into a creamy white puddle on the stable's dirt floor. He swallowed every last drop of the load Charlie had deposited in his mouth, then lay out on the ground in a satisfied heap.

All four boys remained silent after their explosive climaxes. Everybody was afraid to break the hypnotic spell that had made what they'd done seem okay. Nelson was the first to break the silence with a quiet chuckle. His chuckle turned into heaving, full-bodied laughter. The other three boys looked at him as if he'd lost his mind, then one by one joined him in his hearty, reassuring laughter. It was a laughter of disbelief in what they'd just done together, but also a laughter that told the others everything was going to be fine, that they'd leave the stable that night with their manhood and friendship intact and unquestioned.

It had now been nearly two years since that strange night, and based on outward appearances, Jacob sometimes wondered if he'd imagined the whole thing. Nobody had spoken of it since, at least not as a group, and they hadn't repeated the night's experimentation no matter how drunk the four of them got together.

Charlie was loaned out to another plantation and only returned to Stampley a couple times a year. Solomon took up with a new girl named Cora, and a few months later the two of them jumped the broom.

Jacob still let Nelson blow him every now and then, and they'd even fucked in the hayloft a dozen or more times in the past two years, but the rumors of Jacob's infection eventually passed and he returned to pussy on a regular basis. His encounters with Nelson were always fun, but deep down Jacob knew he'd always prefer girls. There was something about their softness and breasts and plump, jiggling asses that Jacob always missed when fucking Nelson.

Still, he couldn't deny there were times now and then when he'd find himself picturing Solomon's muscled, light-skinned ass or dark upper-lip whiskers as he pumped his dick in and out of a girl's mouth or pussy, in those moments wishing, if only for a guilty second, that his best friend's mouth or ass was the warm receptacle for his hungry cock that night.

These forbidden fantasies were at the forefront of his mind as he lay awake on this particular night, waiting for the sound of Laney's heavy breathing in the bed across the room so he could stroke off a quick release before falling asleep.

A booming knock on the door disturbed his thoughts. It was the overseer Richardson, drunk and mumbling something about Jacob needing to have the wagon ready for the new Master at dawn the next morning. Something about accompanying him on a three-day trip to Columbus and back.

Richardson slammed the door and howled drunkenly at the moon as he walked back to the overseer quarters, oblivious to the dozens of exhausted slave parents and frightened slave children he was waking from their desperately-needed rest.

Fuck, Jacob thought angrily. That's just what I fucking need right now: three days without pussy, driving around Master Walt's sissy-ass nephew to God only knows what corners of Georgia.

The news spoiled Jacob's mood for a quick jerk-off. He eventually fell into a restless and troubled sleep, dreading yet another day of forced service to the white folks he despised.

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