The Adventures of Stampley Plantation
By WannabeWhitman (Mm, M+g, nc, rape, interr, hist, ds, va)
DISCLAIMER: This story is a homosexual fantasy involving slavery in the
antebellum South, non-consensual sex with minors, and racial epithets. If you think
any of this might offend you, DO NOT READ. If you live in a country, state, or
jurisdiction that prohibits you from reading this material, DO NOT READ. If you are a
minor, DO NOT READ. I realize these stories might contain material distasteful, even
shocking, to some, but nobody is forcing you to read it. Keep in mind these are only
FANTASIES based on our country's racial history and my own conflicted
imagination. My intention is not to condone or encourage racism, sex with minors, or
Although this story is set in the antebellum South, I have not done extensive research
and cannot guarantee complete historical accuracy. Most of the names, however, are
taken from actual records of slave-owners and their slaves.
Any and all feedback is welcome and desired! I would love to hear advice on how my
writing might improve, suggestions for future characters or storylines, stories and
fantasies of your own, and anything else you might want to share. E-mail me at
Chapter 2: Surrender
James Stampley woke up the next morning with a hangover of shame and self-
Nothing wakes up one's sleeping conscience faster than an explosive, ball-draining
orgasm, and as James blinked awake to the first rays of sunlight creeping through
his bedroom windows, he recalled his rampage of lust from just several hours
earlier and for a moment hoped it had all been nothing more than a bad dream.
The warm body of the naked slave boy sleeping soundly in his arms, however,
reminded James that his previous night's indulgence had been all too real.
James blinked his eyes in shame when he looked at Elijah's angelic, peacefully
slumbering face, dried tear-streaks still on the boy's brown cheeks. In his mind he
could still hear echoes of the boy's screaming and sobbing at having his virgin ass
torn open by James's furiously pounding cock. The sounds of the boy's forced
submission seemed distant and discordant with the peaceful sounds of morning
drifting through the bedroom windows. James looked down at Elijah's sleeping face
with tenderness, and wondered what demons had possessed him to steal the boy's
innocence so sadistically, to take pleasure from the boy's body with no regard for
his cries of pain and resistance. And even worse, to find arousing the sounds of
Elijah helplessly gagging on his dick, or to find excitement in calling him degrading
and hateful names James had never uttered - and never imagined he'd WANT to
utter - before that night.
James had seen the light in Elijah's eyes as the boy had described his childhood
games to the older white man, but still made the choice to extinguish it. He had
known Elijah's mother and little brother were probably suffering through a tearful,
sleepless night waiting for the boy's return, and still James had ravaged his little
body mercilessly just half a mile away. He realized that his adult dick would cause
the boy's untouched asshole enormous pain, especially since spit was his only
lubrication, but had still chosen to plunge pitilessly into its virgin depths.
James was already beginning to see the truth in the old Abolitionist mantra that the
institution of slavery dehumanizes the Master as well as the slave.
Despite these feelings of guilt, James's dick stubbornly sprung to life as it found
itself accidentally nestled between Elijah's smooth, warm ass-cheeks, still sticky
from cum that had leaked out of the boy's asshole during the night. The smell of
Elijah's nappy Negro hair, the feel of his soft skin beneath James's hands, and the
beauty of the boy's angelic sleeping face only made James's dick come to life even
Yes, he had behaved no better than a beast the night before, but James couldn't
deny how wonderful it had felt to sink himself deep into the boy's hot, squishy
insides, or to feel his dick buried in Elijah's warm, unwilling mouth. Even in his
most vivid virginal fantasies, James had never anticipated pleasure as intense and
addicting as he'd discovered the night before. As guilty as he felt, James couldn't
bear the thought of never knowing such pleasure again.
Perhaps one final fuck before sending the boy home, James thought. He could be
slow and gentle this time, giving the boy time to get accustomed to the new
sensations. While these negotiations continued, James's body was already making
up its mind. His hands softly stroked the length of the boy's neck to his crotch.
James's nose began nuzzling Elijah's hair, and his lips began tasting the salty skin
of his neck. His dick jerked to its full length, pressing against the tightly sealed
crack of the boy's ass.
But just when James's body was reaching a state of arousal that would surely wake
the sleeping Elijah, he remembered something that caused him to freeze his
Abel, the mulatto houseboy, would be arriving at any moment to empty James's
chamber pot and pour fresh water for his morning-wash. In his impulsive passion of
the night before, James had nearly forgotten his own routine. He was already
ashamed enough to have Mr. Potter and that ugly overseer aware of his moment of
moral weakness, and he most certainly didn't want Abel or the other slaves to know.
He had to admit, a small part of him found the idea of the stunning mulatto
houseboy innocently going about his work, stumbling upon the naked Master
fucking the ass of one of his younger slaves, looking at the scene in shock and
confusion - to be intensely arousing. But in his early-morning state of moral
ambivalence, James was in no mood to suffer the inevitable awkwardness of such a
moment, not to mention the rumors it might inspire, or the embarrassment it would
most certainly cause Elijah.
There was no choice but to send Elijah from his bed as speedily as possible. For a
moment, James wondered if his recollection of Abel's impending arrival was an act
of divine Providence, rescuing him from the moment's temptation.
James gently but urgently began shaking the sleeping slave boy awake.
"Wake up, Elijah! Elijah, wake up! It's time for you to go home!"
James had to intensify his efforts before the boy finally awoke from his deep
slumber, opening his eyes with a startled look, first of confusion, struggling to recall
where he was, then terror. James looked away in shame, realizing HE was the
source of the boy's fear.
"It's okay, Elijah, I'm not going to hurt you," James said comfortingly. "It's time
for you to go, before your mother and brother get too worried about you."
James realized the words probably sounded hollow and absurd to the boy's ears.
Elijah sat up in the bed, rubbed his eyes and looked around the room like he was
"After you've dressed," James instructed, "take the stairs and exit out the front
doors. Please be careful that nobody sees you."
"Yes, Massuh, I'll be careful, Massuh," Elijah replied as if talking in his sleep.
He stumbled out of bed in a sleepy daze and began hurriedly putting on the clothes
that were still where he'd left them when ordered to strip the night before.
James hoped it was just his guilty imagination, but he thought to himself that the
boy looked lost and sad, like a mere shell of the animated, talkative boy that had
first entered his room. Deep down James knew it was too late, but he wanted to say
something kind to Elijah, something to conclude things between them on a positive
"Oh, and Elijah...." James added, as the boy started to leave the room. "I didn't
fully introduce myself to you last night. My name is James Stampley. You can call
me Ja....Master James," James said, catching himself before committing to an
informality he might later regret.
"Yes, Massuh James," Elijah replied impatiently, looking at the floor, before
dashing out the bedroom door.
James sat alone for a moment on the edge of the bed, naked and disheveled, asking
himself what the hell it was he'd just done. The smell of anal sex and Elijah's skin
still lingered in the air, stirring little spasms of sadness and longing in James only
seconds after the slave boy's abrupt departure.
Although he felt foolish for thinking it, James had to admit that a part of him
already missed his slave boy's presence.
For the rest of that day, James's emotional anguish was excruciating.
For hours at a time, James could think of nothing but the brutality with which he
had treated Elijah, and the emotional scars it must have inflicted on him. He
thought with astonishment of how easily he'd succumbed to temptation, treating
Elijah like a brute beast whose only purpose was to satisfy the cravings of its Master
- simply because the laws of the corrupt country in which he lived tolerated, even
encouraged, such behavior. He even briefly considered the idea of freeing Elijah and
his family as absolution for the awful way he'd treated the boy, going so far as to
compose half a letter to a local attorney experienced in the legal complexities of
manumissions, before tearing it in two and telling himself the matter needed more
time for reflection.
By far the worst part of the day, however, was enduring Mr. Potter's cocky, teasing
looks over dinner. Mr. Potter seemed to find it especially amusing to lick his lips and
make crude suggestive gestures in Abel's direction every time the oblivious
houseboy left the dining room to fetch more wine or clear their plates, as if to say,
"Now there, Little Jimmy, is another fine specimen of nigger-boy pussy -- why not
take HIM to your bed tonight???"
Despite James's visible discomfort with the subject, Mr. Potter's teasing only
intensified while the two men enjoyed their after-dinner smoke on the front
"So, Little Jimmy, how was your first piece of nigger pussy?" he asked bluntly.
"Nigger-BOY pussy, I reckon I should say," he added with an obnoxious laugh.
"Now didn't I tell you ain't nothin' in this world like nigger pussy? Hell, give me
some tight nigger-girl cunt over a white broad's sloppy pussy any day."
"I'm not proud of what I did last night," James replied, fidgeting with his glass of
wine. "And if you don't mind, I'd rather not talk about it."
Mr. Potter stopped grinning for a moment.
"Come on now, Little Jimmy, don't go beatin' yourself over the head over what you
done to the nigger," he said, patting his deceased friend's nephew on the knee. For a
brief moment, a look almost resembling human sympathy seemed to pass over his
"Ain't no point to feelin' guilty over somethin' as natural as the sun settin' at night
and risin' in the mornin'. Niggers is just doin' what God made 'em for. God made
the white man smarter and stronger, and then gave him niggers just like he gave
him beasts and women, to work for him and do his bidding. Ain't no harm in
treatin' 'em like animals if that's what they is."
Mr. Potter paused, taking a deep reflective puff on his cigar and looking west
toward the setting sun.
"Don't worry, Little Jimmy," he continued. "The guilt'll go away by and by. Give it
a couple weeks, maybe three. You'll get used to the idea of a different nigger-boy
every night soon enough."
"What if I don't WANT to get used to it?!?" James snapped, looking up from
scowling at the porch. He was simultaneously irritated by and envious of Mr.
Potter's amoral attitude toward the whole thing.
"Shiiiiiit, son, once upon a time I thought the same damn thing, believe it or not,"
Mr. Potter smiled, although his tone of voice turned the calmest and most
sympathetic James had ever heard it. Perhaps he's had too much wine, James
"You ain't the first to feel that way, and you sure as hell ain't gonna be the last."
Mr. Potter paused, as if deciding whether or not to continue.
"I remember my first nigger pussy like it was yesterday. My Papa gave it to me as a
present when I turned 15 - probably same as his Papa'd done for him, I imagine.
Didn't even take it from our stock neither - got her from a special Atlanta auction, I
He took James's look of reluctant curiosity as encouragement to continue with his
"Took me to the overseer quarters late that night, and there she was, standin' there
shakin' and cryin', surrounded by a good five or six of my Papa's overseers. Poor
little nigger couldn't of been any older than 13. Black as midnight, too, real pretty
little thing. They'd pushed one of the overseer's beds to the middle of the room, and
the little nigger was already naked and tied by her wrists to the bedposts. 'Virgin
same as you,' Papa told me. 'Now strip, fuck her, and prove your manhood to my
men.' Those was his exact words. I reckon he figured the plantation would be mine
soon enough, and what better way to prove my worth to my future employees than
rapin' a little nigger girl right in front of their very eyes? Then the bastard up and
left me in the room with 'em. 'Fore he left, he told 'em they could take whatever I
left over, but warned, 'Any of you touch my boy, I'll rip your tongue out and hang
you with it same as I'd hang a nigger.'"
Mr. Potter laughed bitterly, shaking his head and taking a nervous puff on his cigar.
"My old man left me to prove my manhood, and all's I could keep from doin' was
pissin' my pants. Hell, I was probably more scared of being bare-ass-naked in front
of Papa's men than I was of tryin' to fuck pussy for the first time. And somethin'
didn't feel right in my gut 'bout the whole thing. I gotta admit, pretty as the little
nigger's body looked to my horny teenaged dick, I felt sorta bad for her. The nigger
bein' my own age and all, and layin' there blubberin' her eyes out and kickin' up
her feet, lookin' like she'd seen Lucifer himself come up outta Hell."
Mr. Potter's voice sounded distant and resentful; for a moment he seemed
transformed into the scared 15-year-old boy of that late night over four decades ago.
"I even tried to leave, but my son-of-a-bitch Papa'd locked the door on me. I
realized that was Papa's way of makin' me into a man. I knew if I backed out I'd
never be anything more than a bitch or a nigger in my Papa's eyes, and the eyes of
his men. So I whipped out my dick and fucked the little nigger all the same. Fucked
her while my Papa's men stood around the bed jackin' their dicks - hell, some of
them cocksuckers was probably turned on more by the sight of my naked ass than
the actual nigger-girl. Papa wouldn't have said nothin' 'bout it if he didn't have no
reason to worry."
Mr. Potter chuckled to himself, finding the thought of his Papa's overseers lusting
over his teenaged buttocks strange, funny, and flattering all at the same time.
James didn't want to admit it, but he found his cock lengthening at the image of the
horny overseers jacking off to the sight of their Master's teenage-boy-ass pumping
up and down into the virgin folds of Negro-girl flesh beneath him.
"The second I was finished, one of them horny bastards climbed right back on top
of the little nigger to take my place. Takin' turns like. And Papa didn't come back
for me till each of 'em had his way with her at least twice. Poor little nigger
probably took a dozen or more loads up inside her virgin pussy that night. When
they was done with her pussy they flipped her over and pounded her ass just as
many times. Poor thing was nearly passed out, the men's juices oozing out both
holes by the time they was done with her. And fuck if I can ever forget the look on
that nigger-girl's face. Gave me nightmares for months."
Mr. Potter's voice trailed off and for a moment he seemed to forget James's
presence beside him.
James's dick was still semi-hard, but his heart went out to the sensitive teenage boy
trapped inside the gruff man smoking next to him.
But several moments later, Mr. Potter's emotional candor disappeared as suddenly
as it had materialized.
As if startled into a recollection of the manly, racist facade he had to maintain in
order to preserve his pride as a Southern gentleman, Mr. Potter took an aggressive
puff on his cigar and declared, "But that was a hell of a long time ago, Little Jimmy.
I only told all that to let you know I can guess what it is you're feelin' inside. But
that it's a fuckin' waste of time and energy. Only reason I felt bad at the time was
cuz I was lookin' at things all wrong, see??? I was viewin' the little nigger girl like a
human, almost like an equal. But what Papa was aimin' to teach me is that niggers
AIN'T human, and they sure as hell ain't our equals. They ain't nothing more than
property - goods to buy, use, and sell. Soon's you look at it the right way, you'll
wipe that scowl clean off your face, and learn there ain't nothin' better than
Georgia livin'. It just takes some time, that's all. Soon enough you'll find the cryin'
and beggin's all part of the fun."
James nodded distractedly, and took another sip of his wine. He no longer had the
will to argue with Mr. Potter.
Despite his resistance to the places his imagination was taking him, James was
already picturing ELIJAH in the black slave girl's place, wrists tied to the bed-posts
in the dirty overseer quarters of the Potter plantation, only thrown on his stomach
instead of his back while the Master's son and half a dozen lecherous overseers filled
his ass repeatedly and mercilessly with their runny cum.
He felt an urgent desire to run upstairs and masturbate before allowing the previous
night's demons to overtake him once again.
"I'm afraid the wine, your story, or a combination of the two have made me ill, Mr.
Potter, and I must retire early," James lied.
Mr. Potter grinned, seeing through the young man's weak excuse. "Sure enough,
Little Jimmy. Abel did put out some mighty strong wine tonight."
"I'll be sure to think on what you've told me," James declared as he put out his
cigar and set down his glass of wine. With a nod goodnight, he rushed off the
verandah and up to his bedroom.
"Now that last statement ain't a lie," Mr. Potter thought to himself with an amused
On the second day following James's encounter with Elijah, vivid daydreams of his
sexual conquest began to crowd out guilty thoughts of the boy's damaged innocence.
James realized that temptations to sins already committed are ten times more
powerful than temptations to sins only imagined. It was easy enough to deny himself
pleasure in the abstract, but now that he KNEW what it felt like to swirl his tongue
around a boy's mouth, to feel a virgin tongue taking its first tentative licks of his
dick, to have a slave-boy's untouched asshole slowly surrender its virginity to the
persistent prodding and pushing of his cock - the temptation to experience those
ecstasies AGAIN was maddening.
Only intensifying this temptation was the knowledge that the pleasures he'd
experienced that night with Elijah were right at his fingertips. All he had to do was
say the word and they could be instantly and permanently integrated into his daily
James was also surprised to find that a kind of delirious need and jealousy had crept
into his longing for Elijah. He found himself wondering what the boy was doing at
any given moment - playing "catch a nigger" with the other pickaninnies? splashing
around in the creek with the other boys? hunting for squirrels or rabbits? sleeping?
When James wondered these things, he'd be overcome with loneliness and anger
that the boy was living life WITHOUT HIM. After the addicting power James felt
through his sexual domination of the boy, this detachment from the boy's everyday
life was a lack of control, a powerlessness he found he didn't like at all.
Sometimes James's jealousy would take an even more irrational form. Even though
he knew without a doubt he'd been the first to touch Elijah sexually, James began
wondering if Elijah was being enjoyed by one of his overseers, or perhaps one of the
older teenaged bucks. In one of his more paranoid moments, the thought even
crossed his mind that perhaps Elijah's own mother was using him as a sexual
substitute for her sold-away husband. He knew deep down the idea was outrageous,
but his body still shuddered with jealousy at the thought.
He blamed these strange feelings on Mr. Potter's story from the evening before.
Although the image of Elijah in the Negro girl's place was intensely arousing, it also
inspired a fierce feeling of possessiveness mingled with lust at the idea of his slave-
boy's body being enjoyed by numerous other men.
Once James's passions had been reawakened by his memories and possessiveness,
the all-too-familiar rationalizing began. Sometimes James persuaded himself that he
truly wanted to KNOW Elijah - not only his body, but also his thoughts, fears,
hobbies, and dreams.
At other times James would barter with his conscience. Just one week, he'd offer,
then never again. Just one more week, and then he'd free the boy, his brother, and
his mother. He even tried telling himself that a week of unpleasant and degrading
sexual services for Elijah would only make him value his eventual freedom all the
Through various acrobatics of mental diplomacy between his dick and his
conscience, James assented to ONE WEEK with Elijah - no more, no less. He would
be kinder, gentler, and spare the boy the verbal insults. He would free the boy along
with the rest of his slaves at the end of that week.
It was about an hour after supper when James reached this decision. He'd been
enjoying his post-dinner smoke alone, since Mr. Potter had been called away to deal
with a captured runaway from his own plantation.
All that remained to be worked out was an arrangement with Abel that would give
James undisturbed privacy with Elijah for hours at a time. Knowing his own fickle,
impulsive nature, James leapt from his chair on the verandah and walked to the
back of the house, looking for Abel. He wanted to finalize the plans before changing
The kitchen was spotless and empty. He heard Abraham's loud coughing coming
from a room to his left - the room shared by Abel and his parents. Abraham was
still sick and unable to serve in his normal capacity as Head Houseboy, leaving the
responsibilities to his less experienced but more than competent teenaged son.
James heard low, sweet singing coming from outside. Walking through the kitchen
and out on the back-porch, he saw Becky taking down clothes from a line where
they'd been hanging all afternoon.
"Good evening, Master James," Becky greeted him, smiling.
She was a pretty, light-skinned woman in her late thirties, slightly overweight now
but James guessed she'd been quite a beauty in her younger years. Her light skin
also suggested to him that Abel was probably a quadroon (one-fourth black),
perhaps even an octoroon (one-eighth black) rather than the mulatto (one-half
black) he'd originally assumed him to be.
Of course on some level these distinctions were absurd, since the laws of the South
lumped even octoroons, often indistinguishable in appearance from full-blooded
whites, into the same inferior, despised category of "nigger."
But on another level, these categories had a great deal of social significance to whites
and blacks alike. Considered by whites to be smarter and more physically appealing
than darker-skinned Negroes - and also due to the largely unspoken awareness that
they were almost always the progeny of the Master or one of his sons -- mulattos,
quadroons, and octoroons almost always held positions as "house slaves." Darker-
skinned Africans toiling in the fields bitterly envied these positions because they
typically involved lighter physical labor and included better meals and living
conditions, usually rooms in the Master's house itself.
"Good evening, Becky. Delicious supper tonight, as always," James said, smiling.
"Oh, go on, now, Master James, you tell me the same thing every night," Becky
replied, playfully waving him away.
James had noticed soon after his arrival how Abel and his parents spoke "proper"
English, at least while in his presence. He guessed this was probably due to them
having better access to education and more exposure to whites. Although the
grammar of his house-slaves far surpassed anything he'd ever heard come out of
Mr. Potter's mouth, James thought with amusement.
"That's because I MEAN it every night, Becky," James insisted warmly.
Other than Elijah, Becky and her family were the only slaves James had really
talked with one-on-one, and something approaching affection had developed
"I was looking for Abel," he continued. "Any idea where I might find him?"
"Oh, yes, Master James," Becky answered, taking what looked like one of Abel's
white collared shirts off the clothesline. "He's taking his bath before bed."
James blushed at Becky's surprising announcement, and his dick twitched
Becky paused and looked at James, worried. "I'm sorry, sir, he told me he was done
for the day and you didn't need him any more, so I thought it'd be okay for him to
clean himself up. You know how dirty a teenage boy can get, even when he doesn't
play outside like the other boys."
"Oh, everything's fine, Becky," James assured his Negro cook. "I just needed to
make some last-minute changes to my schedule, that's all. The storage-room off the
kitchen to my left, right?"
It was a stupid question, because James knew exactly where it was, remembering it
from his second-day tour with Mr. Potter. He took his own baths in a private room
in another wing of the house. Apparently regular baths were perks for the lighter-
"You can't miss it. Oh, and Master James...." Becky added, as James turned to
go back in the kitchen. "I hope you have a big appetite tomorrow night, because I'm
cooking up your favorite: fried dumplings!"
"My stomach's growling already," James laughed, waving goodbye and returning to
He hoped his friendliness had masked the blush on his cheeks and churning of his
stomach ever since hearing that the stunning 16-year-old houseboy Abel was just a
few feet away, naked and bathing. He knew he could just as easily have told Becky
to send her son to him when he was finished with his bath and fully clothed, but he
couldn't resist this lucky opportunity to see the boy naked. Until now the only skin
he'd seen on Abel's body was his face and hands, since the rest was always covered
in crisp, ironed serving-attire, and he felt a delirious craving to see more.
Stay focused, James coached himself. One week with ELIJAH is all you get, and
that is your sole purpose for this errand.
James noticed that the storage-room door was partly ajar. It won't hurt to sneak a
peek, he told himself. I AM the Master of this Plantation, after all -- I can do
anything I damn well please.
Pushing the door open a few more inches, James saw a large rectangular pantry-
room with wooden shelves of supplies covering three of the four walls. Large barrels
sat on the floor around the edge of the room - James guessed they contained sugar,
flour, beer, wine, and other items consumed by the household in mass quantities.
In the center of the room was a circular metallic washtub, probably four feet deep
and five feet in diameter. And standing straight up in the tub, facing away from
James, was the most breathtaking specimen of the teenage male form he'd ever
Abel was completely naked, scrubbing his chest, neck, shoulders, and back with a
soapy bristled brush as steaming, sudsy water dripped off of his glistening golden
skin. The 16-year-old houseboy's body was youthful but much more developed than
Elijah's scrawny boyish body, with slight adolescent muscles flexing down his back
and buttocks as he scrubbed.
James's eyes were magnetically drawn to Abel's midsection, where two muscular
mounds of firm, mulatto flesh protruded in almost perfect semi-circles from the
boy's back. Completely hairless, Abel's ass was more perfect and inviting than
James had ever guessed based on the shapes made out beneath the boy's silk dress-
pants. Abel's white ancestry was clear in his face and light skin, but his Negro
ancestry was unmistakable in the firm bubble-butt.
James's dick began to stiffen in his pants. The fact that he was spying on this boy's
private moment made the sight all the more appealing. He felt a strange and
surprising compulsion to run toward the boy, drop to his knees, spread the boy's
gorgeous ass-cheeks with his hands, and run his tongue up and down the previously-
untouched crack, gradually pushing forward to taste what he could only imagine
was a delicious cherry.
James considered the very real possibility that he could order the boy out of the
bath, bend him over one of the wooden barrels, and enter the boy's virgin hole right
then and there. The idea only seemed problematic when he remembered that both of
the boy's parents were only yards away and could discover them at any moment.
James realized this was an odd concern; he was the Master, after all. Their son was
HIS property, to do with what he pleased. Hell, he could fuck the boy in front of one
or both of his parents, and they wouldn't be able to do a damn thing about it. James
cringed at his own monstrous fantasies. He LIKED Becky and Abraham, he told
himself. They hadn't done anything to deserve such mistreatment, and he dreaded
the messiness of screams and tears and drama he'd have to deal with should Becky
discover her only son being raped by the Master in the pantry.
Besides, ELIJAH'S was the body he desired tonight, the goal that had led him to
this moment in the first place.
James's conflicted thoughts were interrupted when Abel turned around and caught
his Master staring. The boy's eyes lit up in surprise, and he dropped the brush into
the water beneath him. He immediately moved to cover his crotch with his hands.
"Master James!" the boy cried out in surprise, blushing and looking down to make
certain his privates were covered.
This position gave James a chance to admire the boy's taut chest, his stomach
rippled with the beginnings of six pronounced muscles, his slender arms, lanky legs,
and the tiny, dark-brown specks of nipples against his light-golden skin.
"I'm....I'm sorry, Abel, I didn't realize you were washing," James lied, looking
at the walls to avoid embarrassing the boy.
"It's alright, Master James," Abel said, smiling. "You just scared the bejesus out of
me, that's all!"
James remembered noticing Abel's winning personality when the boy greeted him
upon his arrival to Stampley Plantation. Abel had been a bit wary of him then, but
quickly warmed up to his new master in the nearly two weeks following.
"I almost thought I was going to faint for a second," the boy laughed. "Like the
women in those books Master Walt taught me how to read."
Still modestly covering his crotch, the boy sank down into the washtub in a
crouched sitting position, facing James.
"What do you need me to do, Master James?" Abel asked eagerly, his piercing
green eyes sparkling with energy.
If only you knew, James sighed to himself.
"I thought I'd done everything on Papa's list," the boy continued, wrinkling up his
face in the cutest puzzled expression. "It's a lot to remember, but I'm trying my
best, Master James."
Abel's eagerness to please made James smile, and caused his still semi-hard dick to
The boy continued, barely coming up for air: "Your chamber-pot's cleaned out, and
I poured fresh water for your nighttime wash. Did I not leave out enough cigars for
your evening smoke, Master James? Or would you like more wine? Just let me get
dressed, and I'll bring you more wine...."
"No, no, no, nothing like that Abel," James interrupted, laughing. "You haven't
done a single thing wrong. In fact, you've been doing a terrific job - even Mr. Potter
Abel blushed a deep scarlet across his golden skin at the compliment.
"I just wanted to make a few....ummmm....changes to the schedule," James
"Yes, Master???" Abel asked, and as he listened he lifted up his arms and began
absent-mindedly scrubbing at the small patches of dark silky hair in his armpits.
James desperately wished he could see the treasure hidden just beneath the sudsy
"In order to ensure my privacy, I'd like you to conduct your upstairs tasks ONLY
between 3 p.m. and 9 p.m."
Abel seemed puzzled, but nodded his head.
"In other words," James emphasized. "You are strictly forbidden from the upstairs
rooms at any other time."
"Yes, Master, that's easy enough to remember, sir," Abel assented, smiling. "But
what about your morning wash and chamber-pot?" he asked, seeming sincerely
"Just leave two pitchers of water in the evening, and that should be plenty," James
instructed. "You can empty the chamber-pot in the afternoon. Do you have any
"No, Master James, I'll do just as you say, Master. You don't have to tell me to do a
thing twice," Abel assured him.
"Well, good night then, Abel," James said slowly, reluctant to leave the naked
bathing beauty before him. But the promise of the night's more immediate rewards
urged him on.
"Good night, Master James," Abel said in his cute adolescent voice, still focused on
his battle with the dirt under his armpits.
Having overcome one temptation, it was now time for James to give in to another.
All he had to do now was visit the overseer quarters, find the ugly overseer he'd
seen two nights earlier, and discreetly ask him to find the same boy and send him to
his Master's room.
Visions of Abel's gloriously naked body flashed through James's mind as he walked
toward the overseer cabins, but he knew the night had other pleasures in store for
When Elijah stumbled home to the slave quarters two days earlier, he felt the way
he guessed some of the slave men and women felt around Christmastime after
consuming too much alcohol. The world around him seemed to be spinning, and he
found it difficult to walk straight.
In less than half a day, the boy's world had been transformed from a place of
relative safety and contentment to a place of danger and fear. He had left his home a
carefree boy who loved playing with friends and being near family, but now
returned to it a sad and scared young man with an aching asshole, knowledgeable of
perversions his former self could have never imagined.
As Elijah walked back to the slave quarters, he caught himself looking worriedly
over his shoulder every few feet, scared that Master James might drag him back to
the big house at any minute.
He could still feel some of the Master's juices sloshing around his insides, so his first
stop was one of the five outhouses on the southern edge of the slave quarters. After
emptying his bowels, he hiked to the creek, where he hoped to wash and make it
home before the other slave children woke up and started playing outdoors. There
was a time he would have boasted to his friends of his personal invitation to the
Master's house, but now he viewed it as something secretive and shameful.
Stripping off his soiled clothes, Elijah bathed more aggressively than he ever had in
his entire life. He scratched and scrubbed at his skin like a wild animal, desperately
trying to rinse all traces and odors of the older white man from his skinny body.
When he returned home, he found Thad sitting at the table, sound asleep with his
small head buried in his arms. Their mother had already left for the fields, and
Thad had obviously been trying his hardest to stay awake for his older brother's
Tears welled up in Elijah's eyes when he recalled the fun of their checkers game the
night before, a symbol for him of a better time that was now forever lost.
Closing the front door quietly, he walked over to Thad and carried him gently to
their bed in the corner, collapsing on it with him. Neither boy having had much
sleep the night before, they slept there together all morning and afternoon. Elijah's
arms spooned Thad much like his Master had spooned him earlier that morning.
At one point Thad stirred and sleepily asked, "You okay, 'Lij?" Elijah responded by
squeezing his brother's arm and nuzzling closer.
Some of the slave children knocked on the door, curious about their playmates'
unusual absence; when nobody answered, they ran off laughing, assuming the two
boys had probably just gone fishing.
When Phoebe returned home around sundown, Thad was up and preparing dinner,
but Elijah was still on the bed, curled up in a fetal position.
Tears immediately began running down Phoebe's cheeks, and she ran to cradle her
eldest boy in her arms. She'd promised herself she wouldn't cry, but the sight of her
shell-shocked son lying there looking so lost and helpless was too much for a
mother's heart to bear.
Elijah melted under his mother's touch, and his young body began sobbing
convulsively. The comfort of his mother's arms allowed him, however briefly, to be
a child again, and he released all the emotions built up over the past day.
Phoebe rocked Elijah in her arms, whispering soothing words in his ears while Thad
watched them both, confused and helpless. It didn't seem to him like Elijah had
been whipped, as his young mind had feared, and everything about his clothes and
appearance seemed normal. Thad had no idea what had happened to his older
brother in the new Master's house, but he knew it must have been really bad, maybe
even WORSE than a whipping.
"Now, now, Elijah," Phoebe said softly. "You'se alive, son, and I thank the Lord in
heaven for that much."
Elijah gasped for air in the midst of his tears, trying to calm his sobs.
"Don't forget what I told you, son," Phoebe continued. "White folks can be mighty
wicked sometimes, 'specially those with slaves. But it don't matter what white folks
do to us, they can't take away the love we feel in our hearts. They can starve us,
whip us, sell us and....hurt us, but none of that will EVER stop me from lovin'
you and Thad, you hear???"
And with that, Phoebe got up from Elijah's bed, went over to examine Thad's
supper preparations, and did her best to return to their normal routine. She knew
her son had needed her comforting arms, but at the same time she didn't want to
coddle him. She didn't know EXACTLY what Elijah had been through the night
before, but she knew that whatever it was, he was certain to see much worse in his
future. The life of a Negro slave was difficult - Lord knows she knew that firsthand
- but licking your wounds and feeling sorry for yourself didn't do anything but
make things worse. As much anguish as it caused her to see her son's wilted spirit
and hollow eyes, she was determined to continue with life as if nothing had
Both mother and son breathed a huge sigh of relief when no overseer came knocking
on their door that night.
Elijah remained in bed all the next day, other than a couple visits to the outhouses
behind their row of cabins. Sometimes he slept, at other times he stared at the
cabin's walls and tried to ward off flashbacks of the older white man gagging his
mouth and mounting him from behind.
Normally Elijah was the first to leap from bed in the morning, eager to play with the
other slave children, but today he felt weary and disinterested. His eyes had been
opened to a strange, confusing world where white men enjoyed licking inside Negro
boys' mouths, grabbing them by the hair and calling them "niggers," and shoving
their dicks into their shit-holes. Suddenly the world of silly games and splashing
around in the creek with the other kids seemed small and childish to him, remote
Every hour or two Thad would run back to the cabin from playing with the other
children, and beg Elijah to join him and the others. His brother's strange behavior
worried him, and today's games just didn't seem as much fun without Elijah's
energy and creativity.
"Come on, 'Lij, come outside, won't you???" Thad pleaded. "It ain't no fun without
you. And Lil Rooster's cheatin' again at 'catch a nigger', but I know he won't try it
if you was around to catch 'im. Plus Moses and me found us a new fishin' spot we
wanna show you."
But Elijah just shooed Thad away and turned toward the wall.
"Suit yourself, 'Lij," Thad said dejectedly. "But all of us misses you real bad. I told
'em you was sick, but I ain't tell 'em 'bout the new Massuh askin' for you. They just
think you sick."
Elijah was in the same pitiful position when Phoebe returned from the fields.
"Get your butt outta bed, young man!" she ordered. "You think you a rich little
white boy that can lazy around as he pleases??? Get up and help your Mama with
Elijah rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and reluctantly obeyed his mother's wishes.
He had to admit it felt good to stretch his stiff limbs and get his mind off his troubles
for a little while.
After supper, Phoebe talked him into joining her and Thad in a game of marbles
they'd made, like the checkers game, out of pebbles. For a good hour he enjoyed a
brief escape from his sorrow, even laughing in spite of himself at his mother's jokes,
or one of Thad's gleeful expressions when he'd win a round.
This pleasant domestic scene was rudely interrupted, however, when Mr. Snopes
flung open the front door without knocking.
"Master wants the boy again," he growled. "Guess the boy's got talent," he added,
smirking and obscenely licking his lips. "Master said the boy knows his way to the
Phoebe's heart sank within her. She knew some white men only liked the thrill of a
conquest and frequently used a particular Negro girl only once before moving on to
others. She'd hoped this would be the case with Elijah, but Snopes's ugly presence
The smile on Elijah's face from moments before faded immediately, and the pit in
his stomach returned with a vengeance. His young body shuddered in anticipation
of another violation. Unlike two nights earlier, there was now no confusion, no
hopeful curiosity that a visit to the big house might be more adventure than
nightmare. He knew what was in store for him, and resigned himself to his fate.
Looking first at his mother, then his little brother, in a gloomy and wordless
farewell, Elijah got up without protest and followed Mr. Snopes out of the cabin.
As he sat on the edge of his bed waiting for Elijah's arrival, James felt a confidence
he hadn't known two nights earlier.
Now that he'd pushed through the initial embarrassment of requesting the repeat
visit, and rationalized away his shame at forcing Elijah into a situation the boy most
certainly dreaded, James's mind and body felt freed up to enjoy the night's sexual
He also liked the idea that Elijah now KNEW what was expected of him, allowing
James to enjoy the boy's body without a lengthy, awkward "seduction."
The moment Elijah stepped sheepishly through the bedroom door, closing it quietly
behind him, James leapt off the bed and threw himself at the boy's stiffened body
like a stallion in heat.
In his mind he'd planned to make pleasant conversation first, but the sight of the
boy's scrawny brown body clothed in tattered rags inflamed him with an impatient
James seized Elijah's body in his arms and smothered his head and face with urgent
kisses. He felt like a man drinking his first drops of water after months in a barren
desert. He licked and slurped at the boy's forehead, eyebrows, earlobes, neck,
Adam's apple, and nose, relishing the delicious Negro taste of the boy's sweaty
Elijah stood awkwardly in the midst of this onslaught, eyes closed and surrendered
to his Master's gross affections.
Sucking on Elijah's thick, pliant lips, James half-carried, half-pushed his slave-
boy's young body toward the bed. He collapsed onto the bed on his back and pulled
Elijah's body on top of his.
As James continued devouring Elijah's face, now shiny with James's own saliva, his
hands greedily roamed up and down the boy's backside, spending extra time
cupping and kneading the boy's round, fleshy buttocks through the material of his
Elijah lay like a dead-weight on his Master's body, still uncomfortable with the
weird feeling of having a grown man's tongue licking around his mouth, and his
hands touching all over his body. He could feel James's rock-hard dick grinding
into his own soft dick through their pants, and began dreading the searing pain it
would cause as soon as it found its greedy way to his asshole.
James suddenly reversed positions by flipping Elijah onto his back. Now James lay
on top of him, still exploring the boy's mouth with his tongue and grinding his hips
against the boy's stomach and crotch.
Although he'd already seen the beauty hidden beneath his slave-boy's rags, James
craved the sight of the boy's naked flesh as intensely as he had the first time. Pulling
briefly away from kissing Elijah's mouth, James began hurriedly unbuttoning the
boy's shirt, yanking it out from beneath him and tossing it to the floor. He gasped at
the beautiful sight of the boy's skinny, heaving chest laid bare before him, but
continued to remove Elijah's shoes, then unfasten Elijah's pants, pulling them down
off of him and sending them flying to join the shirt and shoes on the floor beside the
Even though Elijah knew what to expect this time around, the feeling of being
stripped naked by a strange older man was still uncomfortable and unpleasant. It
made him feel weak and helpless. He turned to look blankly out the window as
James stood beside the bed and began removing his own clothing piece by piece. If
he was lucky, Elijah thought, this might be over faster than the first time, allowing
him to return home or at least find escape in sleep, even if it was in the Master's
Now completely naked, James climbed back on top of his naked brown-skinned
slave, burying his head in the crevices of the boy's neck and rubbing his fully erect
dick into the boy's stomach and against his nappy black pubic hairs. Sometimes it
nudged at Elijah's own sleeping six inches of Negro cock, and sometimes it poked
even lower into the crevice of the boy's warm ass-crack.
As he kissed and grinded into the boy, his fingers toyed with Elijah's tangled crispy
hair, savoring its unique feel against his skin. James filled the room with the sounds
of his pants and moans of pleasure, but Elijah remained eerily stiff and silent.
Eager to explore Elijah's fresh young body in a way he hadn't taken time to during
their first encounter, James moved his mouth slowly down the length of the boy's
body. He paused to taste the boy's wide, dark nipples, which stiffened under the
attention of James's tongue. He continued his descent, stopping to lap hungrily at
Elijah's cute, protruding belly button, rubbing his cheeks against the warm,
smooth-brown skin of the boy's stomach. He crept slightly lower, pressing his nose
into the boy's curly black pubic hairs, taking in a whiff of their sweaty, intoxicating
James pulled his head back and stared for a moment at Elijah's impressive
manhood, at least six inches but still soft, hanging heavily to the side above two
surprisingly large testicles. In his fumbling eagerness two nights before, James had
denied himself the exploration of the boy's massive dick, but he wasn't about to
make the same mistake twice.
He lifted the heavy piece of flesh from its resting place, savoring the feeling of its
smooth fleshiness beneath his fingers. Holding the boy's black manhood in his
delicate white fingers sent shivers down James's spine.
So THIS is the origin of so much controversy, James thought to himself. So much
envy and strife. And it's no wonder, he concluded. If this slave-boy's dick was the
average, the superiority of the black man's genitals was certainly no myth.
James also got goose bumps when he considered the great taboo he was violating,
far beyond the same-sex nature of this encounter. The black male's phallus was
strictly forbidden to white women (and by extension, white sodomites like himself);
it was something to be castrated, symbolically and sometimes literally; something
primitive, dirty and disgusting to be feared, reviled, and turned into the butt of
jokes. Yet here James lay with his face just inches from an African dick, eager to
worship it in a way that transgressed all racial and sexual boundaries.
Elijah's eyes opened wide when he felt his Master take his warm, limp dick in his
hands. He'd touched his own dick plenty of times since that day in the barn after
catching Laney in the creek, but this was the first time ANOTHER person's hand
was wrapped around his dick.
It was a completely new sensation, strange and tingly. Elijah's surprise only
increased when he felt his Master begin licking his balls the same eager way he'd
licked around inside his mouth. It was a weird feeling, ticklish but not unpleasant.
But Elijah's head jerked off the bed to look down in amazement when James
actually placed his lips over the head of Elijah's own still-sleeping dick. He couldn't
believe what was happening. Master James was beginning to do the same degrading
thing he'd forced Elijah to do two nights ago. It didn't make any sense. Although he
hadn't understood its purpose two nights ago, he quickly observed that his own
mouth around his Master's dick gave his Master great pleasure. But here was his
Master....doing the work of a slave??? Was Master James going to give HIM
pleasure? Or did he just enjoy sucking on Negro boys' dicks the same way he liked
feeling their hair and eating their faces? The shocking reversal of roles was a new
thrill for Elijah, and caused his comatose cock to twitch awake in his Master's warm
The taste of Elijah's dick was sweaty and odd to James, but the novelty of the
sensation and awareness of its taboo urged him on. He took all six soft inches in his
mouth without difficulty, burying his nose against the boy's dark pubic hairs. A
strong, sharp odor emanated from the boy's crotch, unlike anything James had ever
smelled before, even from his own sweaty crotch. Negro dick must have a smell and
taste all its own, James thought to himself.
James swirled his tongue around the base of Elijah's dick, then tightened his thin
wet lips as he retreated back to the boy's dickhead. He repeated the motion, and this
time felt the boy's cock jerk a couple times, hesitant but responsive.
With his mouth still enveloping the boy's dick, James glanced up to see Elijah
watching his every move with curiosity and wide-eyed wonder. This reminder of the
boy's innocence turned him on even more, and he increased the speed and intensity
of his sucking.
James watched in his own amazement as the boy's dick sprung to life, thickening
and hardening into a throbbing, massive beast. James lapped at the boy's balls and
licked up and down the dick's length, encouraging its speedy growth. In less than a
minute, Elijah's dick was a breathtaking nine inches, a huge monster that seemed
out of place attached to the boy's scrawny 14-year-old body.
This new size and shape made it more difficult for James to fit in his mouth.
Holding the throbbing dark meat by the base, James could only force half of its
length into his mouth before choking from the intrusion. He continued slurping it in
and out of his mouth as best he could, encouraged by Elijah's raspy, reluctant
moans of pleasure.
Elijah was guiltily enjoying these new sensations. It was the first time in both
encounters he'd felt anything resembling physical pleasure. Part of him wanted to
resist the feelings he was being made to feel by the same man who had caused him so
much physical and emotional pain. But his dick responded against his will, and
Elijah had to admit that the feeling of his Master's hot mouth engulfing his prick
was pleasurable beyond belief. It felt similar to his own hand pumping up and down
in the barn, only hotter, wetter, and ten times better.
Plus he got a secret thrill from looking down and seeing his MASTER'S head
bobbing up and down on his sweaty teenage dick, no different than he'd been forced
to do as a slave just two nights earlier.
He also liked the slurping sounds of his Master's lips going up and down his shaft,
the sounds of his strained breathing, and the occasional choking noises he'd make
when taking too much dick in his mouth. Elijah was tempted to place his hands on
the back of his Master's head, just as his Master had done to him, but he knew it
was too risky. He didn't want to do anything that might interrupt the intense and
mounting pleasure in his loins.
James was surprised by how much he enjoyed the feel of his slave-boy's thick dark
meat pumping in and out of his mouth. The act had a forbidden submissive quality,
to be sure, but it was also a subtle assertion of his control and domination of the boy
equally powerful to anything he'd done two nights before. The intensity and
duration of his slave-boy's pleasure was completely at James's mercy. Elijah's taut
boyish body writhed and trembled under his manipulations. He could take Elijah to
the brink of orgasm only to pull off and leave him begging for more.
James also got an erotic thrill from imagining his own mouth as a slave-girl's tight
virgin pussy, sucking in the boy's literal manhood as that pussy would under
different circumstances. He imagined Elijah in a field, or a barn, or a slave-cabin,
pumping his adolescent cock into one of the Negro girls, making her moan in
pleasure, perhaps even impregnating her with his hot shooting cum. But Elijah
WASN'T enjoying such a scenario the way a normal Negro boy should be. Instead
he was lying helplessly beneath a perverted older white man sucking greedily away
at his virgin cock. And THAT was a kind of power as resonant and addicting as any
other in James's mind.
Elijah's head now rested back on the bed, eyes closed in transcendent pleasure.
James pulled off the boy's dick to catch his breath, drool stretching between the
dick and his chin. He took as much of Elijah's large balls in his mouth as he could,
swirling his tongue against the soft dark skin.
Adventurous by nature, James licked slightly lower, up and down the boy's black
taint, mostly smooth with darker-colored skin in the creases of the boy's legs and
ass. Drawn by a musky, intoxicating aroma, James inched his tongue even lower,
until he was licking dangerously close to the boy's tiny wrinkled asshole.
Elijah's eyes shot open in amazement. Surely his Master wasn't going to
James himself was confused by the behavior. He remembered his sudden urge
earlier that evening to rush forward and spread Abel's firm golden ass-cheeks with
his tongue. Just days ago he would have found the idea distasteful, even disgusting -
licking another male's asshole like nothing more than a dirty dog. But now the dark
pucker between the boy's two perfect mounds attracted his tongue like a magnet.
This was the most private and intimate part of a boy's body, after all, and he
desperately wanted a taste.
James pushed Elijah's legs up and back, raising the boy's small ass to his hungry
face. There was a distinct funky smell - not dirty, but not exactly clean either. A
combination of dirt and sweat and the intestines hidden just beyond the tiny,
tempting entrance. He took a long, teasing lick first across one brown ass-cheek,
then the other. He swirled his tongue tentatively around the boy's tiny clenched
asshole, then poked a couple quick times at its wrinkled blackish-grayish-purplish
The first tastes seemed okay, salty like the rest of the boy's body, only a different
texture, and tangier. Aroused by this new forced intimacy with the boy's body,
James began licking more aggressively, eventually lapping and slurping and sucking
at Elijah's asshole like a pickaninny eating watermelon.
Elijah couldn't believe an older WHITE man would ever want to lick a Negro boy's
dirty asshole. The idea of himself doing such a thing to another person, even a girl
like Laney, made him want to throw up. But to his great surprise, the sensations his
Master's actions were sending through his body were intensely pleasurable. Before
two nights ago the only times he ever paid any attention to that part of his body was
when he wiped with leaves or dried corncobs after taking a shit in the outhouse, and
he certainly never imagined it could inspire interest from anybody else, let alone be
capable of stimulating such arousal in his young body.
The white man's licking tickled at first, but as James's tongue became more
aggressive and persistent, circling and probing the contracted ring of his anus, the
feeling grew more pleasurable. Elijah's breathing grew heavier and his body
squirmed involuntarily at the new sensations. He felt his asshole growing wetter and
warmer, and he even felt the grown man's tongue begin pushing into him, just as his
larger, harder dick had done two nights ago. Only this feeling was an ecstasy he'd
never known existed, whereas the other was a painful nightmare.
James enjoyed tormenting his slave-boy by going back and forth between gulping
down his throbbing nine inches and slobbering over his tight panting asshole. When
his mouth was on the boy's dick, James could taste a sweet, sticky substance in his
mouth, and knew the boy was ready to unleash a torrent of sperm any second. But
just when the boy's dick would begin twitching in anticipation of orgasm, James
would pull his mouth off and devote attention to licking his ass.
He could hear the frustration in Elijah's quiet sighs, moans and gasps, and got a
devilish thrill from knowing the boy was too scared and powerless to protest.
James's own dick was jutting straight out and dripping with precum, energized by
this game of simultaneously worshipping and torturing his beautiful slave boy.
James's complete control in that moment reminded him that he OWNED Elijah,
that the boy's own pleasure was fun to toy with, but that it was his OWN pleasure
that mattered first and foremost.
The sight of the boy's tiny throbbing pucker, shiny and warm with saliva, eventually
became too much for him. Without warning, James flipped Elijah over on his
stomach and stuffed a pillow beneath him, forcing his boyish brown bubble-butt
into the air.
A look of surprise and sudden anxiety replaced Elijah's look of bliss from just
seconds earlier. His heart sank in dismay and disappointment at this sudden turn of
events, but he knew there wasn't a thing he could do other than submit to the
excruciating pain. This was his fate, what he'd known was coming all along; the rest
had simply been a confusingly pleasant surprise. He had no choice but to grit his
teeth, bury his head in the bed, and hope for a rapid conclusion to his Master's
James looked down with curiosity and arousal at the reddish head of his rock-hard
cock pressing up against the clenched resistance of Elijah's still-virgin-like asshole.
The ass pounding of two nights earlier had done nothing to damage the boy's
natural tightness. It took a brutal push to break past its stubborn seal, assisted by
the slick wetness left over from James's own tongue and saliva.
Elijah screamed out in pain and immediately covered his head with a pillow. There
was no crying tonight, as the pain was now expected, familiar, and inevitable.
James was also more merciful the second time around, taking his time. He looked
down with wonder at his cock slowly forcing its way, inch-by-inch, deeper into
Once he had all seven inches buried inside the boy, James savored the hot slurping
wetness of the boy's guts. He pulled out just as slowly, his dick now covered in the
slime of saliva and the boy's insides, watching the boy's anal ring gripping his cock
as if it would never let go.
Then he pushed all the way back in, a little harder and faster this time, relishing the
sound of Elijah's gasps of pain.
Elijah's pain wasn't as brutal and unfathomable as last time, but it was still searing
and relentless. It sort of felt like he was taking a huge shit over and over again, only
sometimes it burned against his insides. Sometimes Elijah could get used to taking
his Master's dick when it was all the way in his ass, but the worst pain came when
the older white man pulled nearly or all the way out, only to tear right back through
the entrance to his tender aching hole.
Elijah still couldn't believe it - one minute he'd been enjoying a game of marbles
with his mother and brother, and the next minute he had a huge white dick shoved
into his shit-hole.
James's breathing grew heavier as his own body began to rise and fall, rise and fall,
eventually ramming his dick into the boy's little body with furious speed and
intensity. Like last time, James occasionally laid his body flat against the boy's back,
the sweat of their bodies sticking together in the heat. He forced the boy's head to
face to the side so that he could smother it with kisses and witness every time the
boy's facial muscles tightened up in pain from another deep thrust.
No angry, hateful words this time; this encounter felt different somehow. James was
content just to witness Elijah's complete and delightful surrendering of his teenage
body to his Master's pleasure.
In fact, no words at all were exchanged between the Master and slave. Just James's
grunts of pleasure and Elijah's cries of pain in his raspy adolescent voice.
Finding a guilty pleasure in Elijah's pained expressions, and sensing the boy's desire
to hide his head in shame beneath the pillow, James decided to try a new position.
His hard cock still impaling the boy's small ass, he turned the confused Elijah
around on his back like he would a hog roasting on a skewer. This allowed James to
force Elijah's legs up and spread-eagle into the air as he resumed slamming his dick
in and out of the boy's tense body.
Elijah's dick had softened dramatically from the sudden pain of getting fucked, but
Elijah's pleasure was now the farthest thing from James's mind. James loved to
watch his own forehead drip sweat into Elijah's face while he fucked furiously
away. He also enjoyed looking down at the boy's cute angelic face with its eyes
clenched shut in pain, and teeth biting down on his juicy bottom lip.
Occasionally James leaned down to kiss Elijah and force his tongue down his throat,
much the same way that his dick was stabbing the boy's bowels. Something about
having Elijah's skinny hairless legs spread open beneath him intensified James's
pleasure in the boy's submissiveness. He loved this thrill of using the boy's body in
ways new and constantly changing for both of them.
As he felt the hot juices of the past two days surging within him, milked by the fierce
grip of the boy's asshole and wet silky texture of the boy's insides, James felt
suddenly possessed to abuse the boy in a way his imagination had just now
He could feel the explosion of his sperm mounting....mounting....mounting
toward its escape. But at the moment he knew its release was imminent, James
jerked his dick out of Elijah's ass with a loud slurping noise, moved onto his knees
(straddling the boy's chest), and unleashed four hot, splattering shots of cum on the
boy's startled, resentful face. Elijah's face clenched tightly in resistance and disgust,
waiting until James had shaken every last, creamy drop onto the black boy's mouth,
chin, and chest. It was Elijah's first experience smelling and feeling cum that wasn't
his own, and having it dripping all down his nose, lips, and chin made him feel
disgusted and degraded.
For James, it was a sight of beauty to behold as he panted in post-orgasmic pleasure,
catching his breath. Returning to reality from the euphoria of his climax, James
shuffled to the side of the bed, wet a cloth towel in the washbasin, and tenderly
proceeded to clean the sticky, smelly mess from the boy's face and chest. He then
wiped up the saliva and ass-juices from Elijah's asshole that was still gaping open
just as James's dick had left it, as if still waiting for its invader's return.
Without putting out the lights, James snuggled up beside the boy, wrapping his
right arm across Elijah's heaving chest. Elijah stared awkwardly at the ceiling,
reflecting on the evening's new pleasures and degradations. He missed the
familiarity of his own bed, and wished he was cuddling with Thad rather than this
strange, sweaty white man. He wondered how much longer Master James would
demand his company that night.
"You're going to be my favorite slave if you keep this up," James teased the
unhappy boy beside him. Elijah smiled weakly in response.
Remembering his new arrangement with Abel, James explained, "For the next
week, you're going to be my own personal slave, do you understand, Elijah? We're
going to do this again and again, as often as I'd like. And since I don't know how
often that's going to be, I'll need you here every day and night, to keep me company
and be available when I'm ready."
Elijah looked at his Master with surprise and disappointment written all over his
face. He couldn't imagine a life without seeing his mother and little brother.
"Don't worry," James assured him. "You can go home at three o'clock every
afternoon, as long as you're back here by nine. I'll give you one of my old watches so
you can use it to tell the time. That should give you six hours every day to see your
mother and brother, play with the other slave children, and anything else you'd like.
Do you understand this arrangement, Elijah?"
"Yes, Massuh James," Elijah replied wearily.
Elijah wondered if he truly understood. Master James had only mentioned a week,
but what about after that? Would this be the form his life as a slave would take
from this point on - a lonely, unhappy boy giving up his ass to his Master's dick
whenever it was demanded of him? Could he ever get used to the horrible pain, or
the weird, shameful way it made him feel inside? Would he ever be a NORMAL boy
Elijah tried to look into the future, but it offered him no comfort or answers.
And his heart sank with disappointment as he realized the older white man next to
him was already snoring in his ear.
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writing might improve, suggestions for future characters or storylines, stories and
fantasies of your own, and anything else you might want to share. E-mail me at