The Adventures of Stampley Plantation - Chapter 9

 

The Adventures of Stampley Plantation

By WannabeWhitman (M+M, rape, hist, interr, nc, ds, bd, ws, va)

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

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

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

Chapter 9: The Punishment (Part 1)

James was having another nightmare.

This time, he was back in the clearing by the creek, where just two days earlier he'd been brutally raped by Jacob the stable-boy. His dream was forcing him to suffer the ordeal again: the helplessness of being suffocated by Jacob's cock; the humiliation of being shoved to the ground on all fours, then gagged and spit on as Jacob mounted him from behind; the pain of having his virgin asshole ripped open by Jacob's manhood; his confusion as he felt the pain give way to flashes of guilty pleasure, enjoying the taboo thrill of surrendering his body to the aggressive desire of a strapping African buck like Jacob; and the feeling of having his insides flooded by the young man's hot semen. But worst of all was the realization that it was his fault. He'd allowed his obsessive desire to spoil the camaraderie he'd struggled to initiate all morning, ruining any chance of a happy, healthy relationship between the white man and Negro.

Everything in the dream felt horribly real. James could taste the coarseness of the cloth stuffed in his mouth. He could feel the clumps of grass and dirt scratched out of the ground as he braced himself against the brutal rhythm of Jacob's thrusts.

James's sleeping lips parted in a silent scream, and his arms and legs jerked as if trying to run away.

"Master James! Master James!" Jacob repeated urgently, over and over as he slammed his muscular hips into the older white man's body.

Suddenly Jacob's deep voice took on a higher, huskier tone.

"Master James! Wake up, Master James! You're having a bad dream, Master James!"

James's eyes shot open, darting wildly around the room in confusion and alarm.

It took him a minute to recognize the faces of Elijah and Abel looking down at him with concern. He was lying in the middle of his bed, and both boys were reclining naked on each side, shaking his arms to wake him up.

He shivered with a mixture of arousal and regret as he recalled the morning's depravity, when he'd savored the pleasures of Abel's mouth and ass and watched as Elijah pummeled the mulatto's butt with greedy abandon.

Based on the intense heat and brightness of the room, James guessed it was midday, meaning he'd been asleep for several hours. His two slave-boys had probably fallen asleep as well; or perhaps they'd lain awake, impatiently awaiting their next instructions.

James's heart pounded in his chest as his body slowly realized he'd only been having a nightmare. The clearing in the woods was miles away, and James's asshole, while still a bit sore, was clean and safe from violation.

But something didn't feel right. He couldn't put his finger on what it was exactly, but something prevented him from feeling secure and at ease.

He slowly realized that the source of this sustained anxiety was a sound, drifting through his open bedroom windows. It was the most terrifying sound he'd ever heard, something between blood-curdling shrieks and the deep, menacing rumbles of thunder. At first it sounded like a harmless hum in the distance, but it grew louder and louder until it pierced the peaceful afternoon with its high-pitched screams. Soon the sound surrounded the house, shaking its very foundations.

Abel and Elijah exchanged knowing glances and looked anxiously at James to gauge his reaction.

A chill crept up James's spine when he realized the sound's origin: It was the howls of bloodhounds. And that could mean only one thing: Mr. Potter's "nigger hunt" was over.

James stumbled out of bed and stuck his head out of one of the bedroom windows. In the distance, he saw what appeared to be Mr. Potter and six other men approaching the plantation-house on horseback. An army of bloodhounds sprinted beside the horses, announcing their arrival with boastful barking.

James peered closer to see if the posse returned in victory or defeat. He gasped in horror when he noticed the filthy, battered body of Jacob, half-stumbling, half- dragging behind Mr. Potter's horse by a rope binding his hands together, attached on the other end to the white man's saddle.

The men let out a chorus of shouts and cheers as they galloped up to the house.

"Little Jimmy!" Mr. Potter hollered toward the house. "Get your scrawny little Yankee ass out here and see why they call me the best damn nigger-catcher this side of the Ohio River!"

James scrambled to find his clothes, which he'd tossed in a pile beside the bed the night before.

"I'll....I'll be right down!" James shouted toward the window as he struggled to pull on his full-body cotton undergarment. He felt a rising dread at the thought of facing Jacob again.

"Master James?" Abel spoke up hesitatingly. His eyes looked swollen as if from crying, and James noticed streaks of spit and semen caked in the corners of his pretty lips. "What do you want Elijah and me to do?"

James whirled around to face the two boys on the bed. His mind raced to decide what to do with them. He hadn't contemplated the future of their services beyond the morning's spontaneous pleasure.

"Abel, I'd like you to bathe, get dressed, and resume your daily duties," James instructed as he hurriedly stepped into his dark cotton pants. "Please tell your mother I was ill from yesterday's events, and that I asked you to nurse me throughout the night. I'll....I'll let you know when I wish to....see you again," James added, blushing.

Abel looked away, annoyed and ashamed. James thought the boy's beauty seemed somehow tarnished by the morning's degradations, but perhaps it was only the swollen sleepiness to be expected after a long nap.

James rushed into his closet and came out with a crisp, clean white shirt.

"Elijah," James began as he slipped his arms through its sleeves. "I'd like you to stay with me today. And maybe later we can talk more about getting your father back."

Elijah glanced at the floor in disappointment. But at least his strategy to stay in Master James's affections was working.

Abel and Elijah crawled out of bed and threw on their clothes. Abel cast a sullen look in Elijah's direction, recalling the pain caused by the younger field slave's selfish eagerness earlier that morning. Elijah looked in the other direction until Abel left the room.

Once he was fully dressed, James descended nervously down the marble staircase, with Elijah following obediently behind.

By the time James stepped outside to the front porch, Mr. Potter and his men had pulled their horses to a halt several feet away. Grinning proudly from ear to ear, Mr. Potter jumped off his horse, walked up to the verandah, and greeted James with a boisterous pat on the back.

"What did I tell you, Little Jimmy?" Mr. Potter boasted. "Didn't I promise to have that stable-nigger back to you before sundown?"

James nodded distractedly, hesitant to look in the direction of the captured Negro. He felt uneasy and unprepared for this part of his new position as slave-owner.

"Thank you kindly for your services, Mr. Potter," James said, feigning a grateful smile. "As you know, I'm rather, um....inexperienced in these matters, and I have no idea how I could have managed without you."

"Ain't nothin' at all," Mr. Potter replied, still smiling and patting James on the back. "Hell, huntin' niggers is almost better than fuckin', ain't it, boys?!?"

The six men on horseback responded with raucous cheers and laughter.

Elijah recognized three of them as Stampley overseers, including Mr. Snopes, the man who'd taken him to James's bedroom that first night over two weeks ago. He detected the smell of liquor in the air, and guessed they'd been drinking in celebration.

Mr. Potter noticed Elijah standing a few feet behind James. The slave-boy shuffled his feet nervously, and watched the scene in front of him with anxious curiosity. Nodding in Elijah's direction, Mr. Potter gave James a knowing wink. James blushed and realized the other men, with the exception of Mr. Snopes, were staring at Elijah with surprise. The boy's tattered clothes made it obvious he was a field slave, and it was highly unusual for a field slave with such an unkempt appearance to stand beside a Master on the plantation-house verandah.

"I....I was just giving this boy a lecture about morals," James said weakly, struggling to explain Elijah's presence.

Elijah cocked his head in confusion.

"Becky caught him stealing tomatoes from the garden, and I was just trying to decide how best to punish him when you all arrived. I....I suppose your timing is fortunate, so the boy can see what happens to niggers who don't know their proper place around here."

James thought he sounded ridiculous, but hoped his explanation seemed sincere enough to convince the men and earn some respect and credibility in their eyes. Besides, it wasn't a total lie. Part of him hoped the sight of the captured slave would scare Elijah into continued submission, dampening any thoughts of rebellion or escape.

Mr. Potter's eyes sparkled with satisfaction at hearing his young prot‚g‚ utter the word "nigger" for the first time.

Elijah looked perplexed. He started to defend himself, but quickly determined that doing so in front of so many white men would be the height of foolishness.

"You're damn right about it bein' good timing," Mr. Potter exclaimed. "Only thing better than huntin' niggers is PUNISHIN' niggers! And this here's one nigger who's had it comin'. Attacking one of the richest men in Georgia! That's one stupid-ass nigger, if you ask me. Don't you want a better look at him, Little Jimmy?"

James nodded in nervous assent, glancing over where Jacob lay face down in the dirt. For a second, James wondered if the young man was dead.

Mr. Potter leapt off the porch and strode over to his horse. He snatched up the rope that was attached to his saddle on one end and the runaway's hands on the other. With a violent yank of the rope, Mr. Potter jerked Jacob to his feet.

James flinched from the sight in front of him.

At first, James barely recognized the captured slave. Jacob's tangled wooly hair was littered with leaves, twigs, and dirt. Angry, bloodshot eyes stared out from a face caked with mud and dried blood. The boy's shirt and pants, ragged under normal circumstances, were now scarcely more than shredded strips of cloth clinging to the young man's sweat-soaked body. The dark skin exposed through the tattered rags was covered with cuts and bruises.

"Hello, Jacob," James said softly, meeting the stable-boy's defiant gaze with a stern but sympathetic look.

James trembled with conflicting emotions. Part of him actually felt sorry for Jacob. He tried to imagine how lonely and terrifying it must feel to be a captured runaway, surrounded by white men eager to watch him suffer a long, painful death. He wondered just how deep and dark a despair must afflict a person after tasting freedom for the first time, only to have it snatched away forever. Deep down, James had half-hoped that Jacob would miraculously outrun Mr. Potter's expert team of slave-catchers, making his way to freedom and safety in the North. James's first impulse was to release Jacob from his ropes and comfort him by bathing and doctoring his wounds.

But James also found himself disturbingly aroused by the sight of the young buck in bondage. Jacob was a handsome man under normal conditions, but the image of the proud African's muscular teenage body covered in dirt and bound by ropes was a sight of breathtaking beauty. An intense rush of lust for Jacob's lanky teenage body corrupted James's sincere compassion. James realized that despite the fiery hatred in Jacob's eyes, the young man was completely at his mercy. Jacob's helplessness inspired within James a hunger for revenge, intensified by the knowledge that his vengeance could be as cruel and imaginative as he liked.

James fought to expel such awful thoughts from his mind. James's mother had always called him a "sensitive soul" due to his love of animals and kindness toward other children growing up. He'd always been one to avoid violence and conflict, and he still hoped he could spare Jacob the punishment suffered by slaves guilty of similar crimes. He simply wanted Jacob washed and rested, so he could enjoy the young man in the privacy of his bedroom, just as he'd done with Elijah and Abel.

James locked eyes with Jacob, but could only meet the stable-boy's insolent stare for a couple seconds before looking nervously away.

"You're....you're lucky to have me as a Master, you know," James fumbled to answer Jacob's accusatory look. "If you belonged to Mr. Potter here, or anybody else for that matter, you'd probably be hanging dead from a tree right now. But me....that kind of cruelty just isn't in me, I'm afraid."

Mr. Potter scowled. James heard disappointed grumbling from the men on horseback, but ignored them and continued:

"I know the white folks in these parts will call it Northern squeamishness or Yankee self-righteousness, and perhaps they're right. But I can't see the point in killing or mutilating somebody for doing what I'd have done in the same circumstances. Like my Uncle Walt, I've tried to treat my slaves with nothing but kindness since arriving here. So you should consider yourself lucky, Jacob."

Jacob's bloodshot eyes burrowed into James with unflinching hostility.

Jacob stifled a cynical laugh, wondering if Master Walt's nephew knew about the overseers that raped his mother and sister, or the whippings ordered out of petty jealousy, or the sudden sale of his elderly father as revenge; and if Master James DID know, would he still consider his uncle's behavior "kind"?

The white man's patronizing ignorance made Jacob sick with rage. After two days of non-stop running, Jacob's mind was feverish from fatigue. He'd sprinted through woods, dashed over fields, and swam across creeks and rivers. By day, he'd hidden in snake-infested swamps and hollowed-out tree-trunks, eating wild fruit for sustenance. By night, he'd run until his tired body collapsed. When he'd heard the howls of the bloodhounds, he had no choice but to scurry up the nearest tree to avoid having his legs or arms ripped off by the vicious dogs.

And now that Jacob's running was over, the adrenaline-rush of temporary liberty gave way to nauseating terror. He knew he was as good as dead. He figured James would be too ashamed to tell the whole story, but attacking a white man was still enough to guarantee torture, mutilation, and most likely death as punishment. He felt a strangling sense of sorrow and panic when he realized he might only have a few more hours to live. But refusing to surrender his Negro pride was his only remaining source of strength and independence.

"What I'm trying to say," James explained sympathetically, "is that I'm extending you an offer of forgiveness. All I ask is that you apologize for your rebelliousness, and promise me it will never happen again."

The six men on horseback groaned, and looked at Mr. Potter with scowls of disbelief.

"Now look here, Little Jimmy," Mr. Potter interrupted. "That ain't the way we do things in these parts, and you'd be makin' a big mistake not to make an example of this uppity nigger while you've got the chance...."

James held up his hand for Mr. Potter to hush.

"I thank you for your services, Mr. Potter," James said firmly. "But he's still my property, isn't he? And that means it's up to me to determine the young man's punishment."

James shivered as he uttered the words, thrilled by his new authority.

"It's up to you, Jacob," James continued, looking into the stable-boy's eyes. "I give you my word that no violence will come to you, if only you'll apologize and promise to be a dutiful slave from this point on."

Jacob glared and shot a huge wad of spit in James's direction.

"Fuck you," he snarled.

James gasped in surprise at the young man's disdain for his generous offer.

The words barely escaped Jacob's lips before Mr. Potter had his rifle cocked and aimed at Jacob's head, the tip of its barrel just inches from the young man's defiant face.

"What did you just say, nigger?!?" Mr. Potter barked angrily.

"You deaf, cracker?" Jacob replied, trying to hide the fear in his eyes.

Mr. Potter pressed the end of his rifle into the flesh of Jacob's forehead.

"Fuck Massuh James!" Jacob shouted. "And fuck you too! Fuck all y'all." He nodded toward the six men on horseback. "He had it comin' to him. You'se all got it comin' for what you been doin' to niggers!"

Mr. Potter laughed derisively. "You're one DAMN foolish nigger, you know that, boy? I oughta blow your monkey brains out right now for talkin' to a white man like that."

"Please, let me handle this," James pleaded, pressing gently on Mr. Potter's arm for him to lower his rifle.

Mr. Potter shrugged him off and glared at Jacob. Jacob's chest heaved furiously up and down, and his large African nostrils flared in defiance.

"I have half a mind to shoot the son of a bitch dead and pay you back in cash or niggers," Mr. Potter said, spitting to the side. "What d'ya think, boys? What do we do with uppity niggers like this in Potter County?"

"Cut the coon's eyes out and feed 'em to him!" shouted one of the overseers from the Potter Plantation.

"Nawwww, that ain't no fun," said another. "I say we tie the nigger to a tree and burn him alive!"

"I like whippin' best," chimed in the last of Mr. Potter's three overseers. "Just whip him 'til there ain't nothin' left to whip, like we did to Isaac Grubbs' nigger last year!"

The remaining three men on horseback laughed uneasily, but otherwise stayed quiet. They were three of James's own overseers, and didn't want to say anything rash that might jeopardize their employment.

James cringed at the men's sadistic suggestions. His Abolitionist friends were frequently criticized for exaggerating the horrors of slavery, but perhaps they'd been too GENEROUS in their depictions of the barbaric South.

"I'm with you, McGreevey," Mr. Potter replied. "I say we whip his ugly black hide right off his back."

The burly man sighed and dropped the gun to his side.

"But goddammit, Little Jimmy, you're kin to Walt Stampley, God rest his soul, and I ain't gonna disrespect the dead by goin' against your wishes."

The men on horseback spewed out a string of curses in protest. Jacob let out a tiny gasp of relief.

"But I'd like to have a word with you in private, if you don't mind," Mr. Potter added gruffly, grabbing James by the shoulder and leading him to the far end of the verandah. Still resting his hand on James's shoulder, Mr. Potter spoke in a low voice:

"Now listen here, Little Jimmy. I think this love of niggers is amusin', I really do, and even kinda sweet in a queer Yankee way. But you've got to understand, the men that work for you ain't used to lettin' niggers get away with the kind of shit you've been takin' from that stable-nigger. THEY'RE the ones in the fields with your niggers, day in and day out, not you. And they've got to know you ain't some sissified nigger-lover who's gonna start changin' the rules and underminin' their authority, you understand?"

James nodded reluctantly.

"These men make their living keepin' niggers in line," Mr. Potter continued, his breath reeking of liquor and cigars. "But if they can't trust that you've got their backs, if they can't count on the threat of the whip to back up their orders, then they can't do their job, you see? And if they can't do their job, the whole goddamn system'll fall to pieces."

"Maybe that wouldn't be such a bad thing," James muttered.

"You'd best think twice about that foolish talk, Little Jimmy," Mr. Potter snapped. He smiled and nodded toward Elijah, who was still standing nervously on the other end of the porch. "You think a pretty nigger boy like him would give up his ass to a white man like you if he wasn't a slave?!?"

James blushed and looked away. He knew Mr. Potter was right. The threat of punishment was an essential part of the sexual perks James had grown addicted to during his first month at Stampley Plantation. If he spoke out against the cruelty of punishment under slavery, he'd also have to turn his back on the same system that gave him easy, endless access to the bodies of hundreds of Negro boys and men. And that was a sacrifice he just couldn't make, at least not yet.

"How....how do you think I should have him punished, then?" James asked nervously.

Mr. Potter gave James a toothy grin. "Don't you worry your delicate little Yankee head about that! Leave it up to me, Little Jimmy, and I'll show you how it's done."

James shuffled his feet anxiously. He wanted to spare Jacob from Mr. Potter's cruelty, but also knew he had to earn the respect and loyalty of his overseers. And deep down, he felt a disturbing curiosity to witness the sadism of Southerners firsthand.

"I'll....I'll leave the punishment in your hands," James said reluctantly. "But only under two conditions: I don't want him whipped, and I don't want him maimed or....damaged....in any way."

Mr. Potter paused skeptically at first, and then broke into a devilish smirk.

"I think I can work around that. Just don't be backin' out on the deal 'fore we're through, you hear?"

James nodded in guilty agreement.

Mr. Potter reached out and shook James's hand vigorously. "You let me run the show, and I just might work things out to suit your fancy," he added with a lewd wink.

James puzzled over Mr. Potter's meaning as the two men walked back to the other end of the verandah. James looked at Jacob, who hadn't moved since his earlier outburst. James detected a slight look of worry cross Jacob's face when the stable- boy noticed Mr. Potter's enthusiastic grin.

"I'm afraid you've left me with no other choice," James sighed, unable to look at Jacob directly. "I was willing to give you another chance, but since you've refused to apologize, I've given Mr. Potter here permission to supervise your punishment."

The men on horseback let out a loud cheer of approval.

Jacob felt a growing pit in his stomach, and thought for a moment he might collapse.

Elijah's heart sank with disappointment; he'd hoped Master James would do the right thing and spare Laney's brother from a brutal punishment. He recalled the time he snuck off with some of the other boys to spy on Mr. Snopes whipping Lil Rooster's daddy, and hoped Jacob wouldn't be forced to endure worse.

"You hear that, boys?!?" Mr. Potter shouted eagerly. "Let's get this nigger to the stables, and show Mr. Stampley what we do to niggers who think they're too good for the life God gave 'em!"

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

Jacob stood in the center of the largest Stampley stable.

His hands remained tightly bound with thick rope, and his arms hung helplessly in front of him. Mr. Potter and the six overseers formed a wide circle around the captive slave. James and Elijah sat next to one another on a large bale of hale to the side of the barn, like theatergoers attending an afternoon matinee.

Sunlight poured through the stable windows. The room was thick with the smell of manure, made worse by the heat of the summer afternoon.

Jacob's heart pounded in his chest, and he tried to stifle the fear rising within him. He'd endured plenty of whippings before, but this was different. His captors showed no intention of binding his body to the stable's whipping-post, or stringing him up to the rafters. And instead of just two or three overseers supervising his punishment, there were EIGHT white men in the room, each drooling over the chance to hurt and perhaps even kill him.

Jacob looked straight ahead, his chin raised slightly in defiance. He tried to ignore the hostile stares of the white men surrounding him. He knew his last hours on earth would be filled with the most ghastly of torments, but was determined to suffer them with dignity.

Jacob watched as Mr. Potter stepped out of the circle, walked forward, and stood directly in front of him. Mr. Potter's face nearly touched Jacob's own, and Jacob could smell the stocky white man's rank breath and foul body odor.

Mr. Potter grinned wickedly and shook his head in mock disbelief.

"You've got to be one of the DUMBEST niggers I've ever seen," he declared. "Any nigger with a PEANUT for a brain would be on his knees right now, beggin' for his life and tellin' us what a stupid, ungrateful nigger he is. But not you! You're still standin' there actin' like the goddamn Pharaoh of Egypt himself."

Jacob's breathing grew heavier, but he stared into Mr. Potter's eyes without flinching.

"You know what this nigger's problem is?" Mr. Potter bellowed, looking around at the six overseers standing nearby. "He's done forgot he's a NIGGER."

The overseers nodded and grunted in agreement.

Mr. Potter met Jacob's rebellious gaze and continued:

"Just who the hell do you think you are, boy?!? You think you're some kind of African chief? Some proud Zulu warrior, or some nonsense like that?"

Mr. Potter bowed before Jacob in mock reverence, and the overseers burst into laughter. Jacob clenched his jaws shut, fighting the urge to respond to the white man's taunting.

Mr. Potter stepped back, and his grin soured into a scowl.

"Well, you ain't never been and ain't never gonna be no such goddamn thing," he snarled. "And me and my men here are going to spend as long as it takes to remind you that here in Georgia you ain't nothin' but a low-down nigger slave! You ain't no better than a mule or a chicken around these parts, and just as God gives us the beasts to serve our bidding, he gives us niggers to be our slaves. Only thing you need worry your nappy nigger head about is how to please Master Stampley, you hear?"

Jacob stared proudly ahead, ignoring Mr. Potter's lecture.

"You listenin' to me, boy?!?" Mr. Potter snapped.

Jacob gave no response beyond the grinding of his jaw muscles.

Without warning, Mr. Potter struck Jacob across the face with the back of his hand. The force and surprise of the blow sent Jacob stumbling backwards, and its sting caused Jacob's temper to flare up again.

"Go to hell!" he shouted, spitting in Mr. Potter's direction. "I hope all y'all crackers burn in hell! I'se a MAN, not your 'boy'! And I ain't no cracker's slave!"

Several of the overseers lunged toward Jacob, but Mr. Potter waved them back.

"Now that's more like it," he chuckled. "A feisty nigger like you makes these things a hell of a lot more fun!"

Mr. Potter stepped up to Jacob and snatched a fistful of his dirty tangled hair. He snapped the stable-boy's head backwards so that Jacob was staring at the roof. Leaning in close, Mr. Potter growled in Jacob's ear:

"The sooner you apologize for what you done to Master Stampley, and start actin' like a nigger slave 'stead of some high-and-mighty prince, the quicker this'll be over, you hear?"

"Fuck you!" Jacob shouted defiantly, his chest heaving with a mix of adrenaline and terror.

He winced as Mr. Potter tightened his grip, yanked Jacob's head back even further, and spit directly onto his face. Jacob seethed with hatred as he felt the white man's slimy spit slide slowly down his face, but he was powerless to wipe it off.

"You're going to get that, and worse, every time you talk back, you hear me, boy?" Mr. Potter warned.

With his free hand, he smeared the saliva all around Jacob's handsome face, leaving a trail of spit across the stable-boy's nose, cheeks, and lips. Jacob clenched his eyes shut in disgust.

"Maybe this can be one of your new duties," Mr. Potter added sarcastically. "What d'ya think, boys? You think he's good enough to be a white man's spittoon?"

The other men grunted enthusiastically.

"I say we test the nigger out first," Mr. Potter declared, grinning mischievously. "Let's see how he likes white men's spit 'fore we give him the job full-time. Give it to him, boys!"

Mr. Potter shoved Jacob to his knees. One by one, the overseers stepped forward, snorted huge wads of mucus into their throats, and pelted Jacob's face with spit. By the time the sixth overseer had contributed his spit to the mix, Jacob's face, tightened in disgust, was soaked with saliva. Gobs of mucus clung to the young man's crispy facial hair, and streams of saliva slid down his forehead, cheeks, lips, and chin before dripping onto the ground.

Elijah wrinkled his nose at the gross sight in front of him, guiltily grateful it was Jacob, not him, who was the object of the white men's wrath that afternoon.

James too found the sight distasteful, but couldn't tear his eyes away from it.

"Damn, we sure did make a mess of this nigger's face, didn't we, boys?" Mr. Potter boasted. "What d'ya say we wash the dirty coon off?"

Mr. Potter dropped his trousers to his knees, unbuttoned the front flap of his cotton undergarment, and pulled out a short but massive cock. Everyone watched in amazement as the burly man released a powerful geyser of piss directly at Jacob's face.

Jacob sputtered in disgust, and struggled to stand and escape the gushing stream of warm, light-yellow piss. But Mr. Snopes shoved him back to his knees with a kick to the back.

"You ain't goin' nowhere," Mr. Potter laughed, waving his stumpy dick back and forth so that it sprayed piss across Jacob's hair, face, and upper body. "You're staying put 'til you learn your role as a good obedient nigger."

The overseers' initial surprise quickly turned to amusement, and they cheered as they watched Mr. Potter piss all over Jacob.

Jacob clenched his eyes and lips shut as the white man's urine splashed against his skin and trickled down his forehead, cheeks, and neck. He felt trapped in a slow- motion nightmare. He wanted to preserve his dignity, but that desire battled with his instinct for survival. Despite the miserable conditions of his existence, Jacob still wanted to LIVE. He wanted to tell his little sister jokes over supper. He wanted to go fishing with Solomon. He wanted to fuck many more girls and women. But were the pleasures of family and friendship worth the sacrifice of his pride, his manhood? He could already feel both slipping away as Mr. Potter drenched his ragged clothes with steamy, smelly piss.

Mr. Potter's strong stream of urine turned into a weak dribble, then ceased altogether. The large man tucked his dick away, buttoned his drawers, and pulled up his pants.

"I think he likes it, boys!" Mr. Potter declared, grinning and wiping his hands on the rear of his pants. "But I've got a feelin' he ain't learned his lesson yet, so I think the six of y'all should give him some more!"

A few of the men hesitated, uncomfortable with the idea of flopping their dicks out for all to see, for fear that their length and girth might be found lacking when compared to the other men.

Being one of the oldest and most experienced of the crew, Mr. Snopes stepped confidently forward, jerked down his pants, unbuttoned the flap of his underwear, and pulled out a shriveled, jaundiced-looking stub of a penis. He walked up to Jacob and unleashed a powerful stream of golden piss directly at the young man's thick, tightened lips. Like a mischievous child, Mr. Snopes shot piss at Jacob's neck, then into both ears, then across the top of his bushy Negro hair.

Two of the other men joined him, then another, then two more, until all six overseers surrounded Jacob in a tight circle, soaking him in hot, foul-smelling piss. The men's bladders were near-bursting after drinking all morning, and their streams of urine seemed to last for several minutes. They laughed and boasted as if competing to see who could last the longest and soak the runaway slave most thoroughly. Lines of piss crisscrossed in the air, splashing against Jacob's dark skin and running down his hair, face, and neck in tiny, angry streams.

Jacob clenched his eyes shut to keep the hot piss from stinging his eyes. His skin burned as the urine splashed against his many cuts and scratches. But the humiliation of the ordeal was far worse than the physical discomfort. How could he salvage any kind of pride or dignity after being forced to his knees and soaked in the piss of the men he hated most?

Elijah closed his eyes to block out the awful scene playing out in front of him, but the sounds of piss splashing against human flesh kept the disturbing image vividly in his mind. He resented Master James for forcing him to witness such cruelty, and wanted nothing more than to run to the familiar comforts of his cabin. He only knew Jacob as Laney's older brother, but still he felt sorry for him and wished there was something he could to rescue his fellow slave.

James shifted uneasily as he watched Jacob's punishment proceed. Part of him was shocked and sickened by the sight of the young Negro being drenched in piss, and wanted to make it stop. He shuddered to think how filthy and degraded Jacob must feel, and knew deep down that his stable-boy didn't deserve such treatment. After all, Jacob had only attacked and run away when threatened with rape. He'd only reacted out of a natural instinct for self-preservation.

But compassion is no match against the darker desires of the human soul. James continued to watch, mesmerized, as the overseers turned Jacob into a human outhouse. There was something disturbingly arousing about seeing a teenage Negro boy abused and humiliated, especially one as cocky and handsome as Jacob. In his native Africa, Jacob would probably be a prince or warrior, a leader of men and seducer of women. But in the American South, this muscular adolescent was nothing more than a cowering "nigger," the degraded plaything of the white men who enslaved him. Knowing this intensified James's arousal, and turned the sight of Jacob's piss-soaked body into a vision of twisted but thrilling beauty.

The overseers finished and tucked their dicks away. Jacob kneeled in a puddle of piss on the stable's dirt floor, and streams of urine dripped from his nappy hair and trickled down his forehead and cheeks. His piss-drenched shirt clung to his upper body, heaving with rage and resentment, and the soaked cloth revealed the dark skin and muscular frame beneath.

"Jesus Christ, you're a mess," Mr. Potter observed with amusement. "You ain't so uppity now, are you, boy?"

Jacob glared at the burly white man, but stayed silent. He knew talking back would only prolong his punishment, and tried to assure himself that silent endurance wasn't the same as surrender or submission. Perhaps if he remained proud but silent, they'd let him live another day to see his sister and friends.

"I hope you're learnin' your lesson, boy," Mr. Potter continued, walking in a slow circle around Jacob. "I loved him like a brother, but Walt Stampley never did nothin' but spoil his niggers, sparin' the whip the way he did. Lettin' a lazy boy like you run his stables was just plain foolishness, and didn't do nothin' but give you a big head. You ain't nothin' but a smelly nigger covered in white men's piss, and that's all you'll ever be 'til the day you die."

He paused and smiled sadistically.

"But I want to hear you SAY it," he taunted. "Admit you ain't nothin' but a dumb nigger and we can end this right now."

Jacob's thick lips quivered with the urge to spew profanities at the gloating white man, but he bit his tongue and looked defiantly straight ahead. He could endure his punishment, but he would NEVER betray his pride by lowering himself to the point of agreeing with the white man's hateful insults. Playing the "happy darky" was one thing. There was even a kind of power in fooling white folks on a daily basis. But actively accepting their degraded definition of him was a line Jacob refused to cross. He spat angrily on the ground to show his contempt for Mr. Potter's request.

"You stupid, stupid nigger," Mr. Potter said, shaking his head. "Looks to me like he wants some more, boys."

The other men shook their heads in vigorous agreement.

Mr. Potter grabbed a fistful of Jacob's wet, wooly hair and jerked the young slave to his feet. He stood directly in front of Jacob, his sweaty face just inches from the stable-boy's.

"You know what your problem is?" Mr. Potter snarled. "You've never known what it's like to be a nigger on the auction block."

He took hold of the neckline of Jacob's cotton shirt, already soaked and tattered, and with one violent pull ripped it completely off the teenage boy's back and tossed it to the ground. Jacob's naked ebony skin glistened from the moisture of piss and sweat.

"You've never known what it's like to be a nigger for sale," Mr. Potter continued, staring menacingly into Jacob's fiery eyes.

He ran the back of his hand slowly down the length of Jacob's smooth, muscular chest. Jacob's torso tightened in response to the touch of the white man's clammy hand.

"You've never stood in the town square in front of a bunch of white folks starin' at you, gropin' and pokin' and proddin' at your naked nigger flesh."

With his right hand, Mr. Potter crudely caressed Jacob's naked chest, poking at his bellybutton and pinching his large, pitch-black nipples. With his left hand, he groped Jacob's purple, fleshy lips between his fingers, then pried open Jacob's mouth and grabbed at his wide, strong teeth.

Jacob recoiled from the white man's probing hands, but could only shut his eyes and swallow his rage.

Elijah watched with anger and sorrow, wondering if his father had been forced to suffer the same kind of humiliating examination.

James stared in wide-eyed wonder, envying Mr. Potter's intimacy with the naked teen's muscle-rippled body.

"If you'd ever been a nigger up for sale," Mr. Potter continued, "you'd know good and well you ain't a man, but a piece of goods, somethin' to buy and sell just like a horse or saddle. In a matter of minutes, you'd be inspected by fifty or more men, even a few women, just like I'm doin' to 'ya now. Their white hands would cover every inch of your body, and you wouldn't be able to do a damn thing to stop it."

As he talked, Mr. Potter wiggled his fingers roughly around in Jacob's mouth, feeling his slick, black-purplish gums and yanking at his pink tongue. He withdrew his hands from Jacob's body and wiped them on the back of his dirty pants.

"When I'm lookin' to buy myself a strong young buck like yourself," Mr. Potter explained, "the first thing I do is check and see what's hangin' between his legs."

He grabbed at Jacob's crotch, cupping it through the stable-boy's torn and piss- splattered pants. Jacob clenched his eyes shut, powerless to resist the older white man's violating touch. He cringed as he felt the man's fingers cupping his balls and pulling at his dick through his wet pants.

"I do believe we've got ourselves a breeder here, boys," Mr. Potter announced, winking obnoxiously at Jacob. "But I reckon we better find out for sure."

He grabbed the waist of Jacob's pants with both hands, and with an aggressive tug he tore what was left of them off the young man's body.

Jacob now stood completely naked, except for the rope still binding his hands. Despite the summer afternoon's humidity, Jacob shivered, embarrassed and angry at the numerous eyes feasting on his nude and vulnerable body.

Elijah looked away at first, sharing Jacob's embarrassment. He recalled the first night James had forced him to strip against his will. But youthful curiosity got the better of him, and he glanced guiltily at Jacob's nudity, noticing with pride that his own dick was nearly as big as the older teen's.

James gasped at the spectacular beauty of Jacob's youthful, sculpted body. From where he sat, James could see the naked slave in profile. This allowed him to admire both the thick, coal-black appendage dangling between Jacob's legs, as well as the perfectly protruding semi-circles of his ass. The breathtaking sight reminded him of the lust that had overtaken him after watching Jacob swim in the creek just two days earlier, and goosebumps of desire and anticipation spread across James's body.

"Looks like I was right," Mr. Potter observed smugly. He nodded at the appendage hanging heavily between Jacob's legs, crowned by a wild patch of course pubic hair. He seized it in his right hand and flopped it around for the other men to see. "This has got to be at least seven or eight inches, I'd say. Perfect for breeding."

Jacob inhaled deeply and resisted the urge to spit in Mr. Potter's face. Jacob had never been particularly modest. In fact, his dick was one of his few sources of pride and pleasure as a slave, and he always enjoyed showing it off. But this was different, something unnatural and unsettling. Even Master James's unwelcome groping two days earlier had been motivated by awe and desire, not power and mockery. The feeling of Mr. Potter's sweaty fingers fondling his cock was a violation not only of his body, but his very manhood.

Mr. Potter yanked at Jacob's dick as if milking a cow. He cupped Jacob's enormous, charcoal-colored balls, rolling them around in his fingers.

"You've gotta hand the niggers one thing," Mr. Potter chuckled, talking over his shoulder to the other overseers. "They might be dumb as mud, but they're sure as hell hung like horses. And this one ain't even CLOSE to the biggest nigger dick I've seen! Hell, I've seen bucks with dicks as big as tree trunks, and swore they'd split my nigger girls in two 'fore knockin' 'em up. I thank God Almighty it's the ONLY thing the niggers got that's better than white folks. I guess the good Lord felt sorry for makin' the niggers into slaves and this was his way of makin' up for it."

Mr. Potter shot Jacob a mocking smile, and the other men laughed uncomfortably at the joke. The impressive size of the Negro male's genitals was common knowledge in the South, but also a source of constant insecurity and anxiety. Some Abolitionists even argued that all the hatred, oppression, and violence of slavery in the South was at its unconscious core inspired by nothing more than petty penis envy.

"I wonder how many nigger cunts he's fucked with this big ol' beast," Mr. Potter continued, pulling and squeezing Jacob's flaccid dick and heavy balls.

Jacob stood frozen, every muscle of his body rippling with annoyance and discomfort.

James's dick sprang to life as he watched the Negro teen's massive dick pawed and played with by Mr. Potter's hairy white hands.

"I bet you've got nigger bitches comin' at you day and night to get this thing 'tween their legs, don't you, boy?" Mr. Potter asked, grinning at Jacob. "How many pussies have you fucked, boy? Dozens? Hundreds? Everybody knows nigger boys like you always got pussy on the brain. Now I ain't a saint myself, but niggers are like goddamn ANIMALS when it comes to fucking."

Jacob shut his eyes and tried to ignore Mr. Potter's interrogation. He thought of the countless girls and women he'd seduced in his eighteen years on Stampley Plantation. He'd even fucked a few girls in this very barn: throwing them to the floor of one of the stalls, or across a bale of hay; lifting their skirts, and shoving his pants to his knees; then plowing into their wet pussies like a gorilla in heat.

"You think this nigger's ever fucked a white girl?" Mr. Potter asked.

"He'd be one dead nigger if he did!" the overseer Richardson growled.

"Yeah, he's probably too much a coward to try," Mr. Potter conceded. "But I wonder how many white girls he's WANTED to fuck. Knowing niggers, probably every one he sees. You know bucks like him can't WAIT to get their monkey paws on our women if they have a chance!"

The overseers grumbled in angry agreement. Jacob winced, knowing Mr. Potter's accusations were mostly true.

"Maybe he thinks he can please our women better than we can?!?" Mr. Potter asked loudly. "Maybe this big ol' dick's the reason he's gotten too big for his britches. Well, boys, I think I know a way we can take care of that!"

Mr. Potter released Jacob's dick and smiled menacingly. He walked to the side of the stable and dragged a large bale of hay to the center of the room, placing it behind Jacob.

Jacob blinked his eyes open in confused dread. He'd heard rumors of slaves on other plantations having their dicks and balls chopped off after something as minor as GLANCING at a white woman in a way deemed inappropriate by their jealous masters, and wondered if he was about to suffer the same horrific fate.

Mr. Potter seized Jacob by the shoulders and spun him around so that his back was facing his onlookers. With a brutal shove, Mr. Potter forced Jacob face-first across the bale of hay. Because his hands were tied, Jacob couldn't control his balance, and ended up with his face and upper body smashed awkwardly against the hay, his taut black buttocks jutting out toward the semi-circle of sadistic spectators.

Jacob felt uncomfortably feminine in this position, and gulped when he recalled the image of Nelson in a similar position, bent over a stool before being fucked by Jacob, Solomon, and Charlie. His eyes opened wide in surprise and horror as he felt Mr. Potter's hands smacking and kneading both of his butt-cheeks, running his fingers over the grayish welts scarring his ass's otherwise smooth dark skin.

"You know what this is, boys?" Mr. Potter asked playfully, slapping Jacob's soot- black bubble-butt. He glanced over at James, who looked as if he'd been hypnotized, and gave the younger man a lecherous wink. "This right here's what I call some damn good nigger pussy."

The other overseers reacted with puzzled and skeptical looks. They glanced at one another with nervous concern, disappointed with their torture-session's unexpected digression.

"I ain't sayin' it's good as the real thing," Mr. Potter clarified, clutching and kneading the firm fleshiness of Jacob's ebony buttocks, sweaty and crusted with mud from running through swamps, creeks, and forests for two days.

"But it's a nice tight hole, ain't it? Even TIGHTER than pussy, in fact. Ain't a better way to put this uppity nigger in his place than turnin' him into a piece of sloppy nigger cunt, just like the ones he likes to fuck!"

Mr. Potter ran his middle finger along the tight dark line of Jacob's ass-crack, pushing into the moist crevice between his muscular buttocks and up against his tiny clenched asshole.

Jacob squirmed under this alarming invasion. He bucked vigorously and struggled to escape Mr. Potter's humiliating examination of his body's most private and protected region. He wasn't about to be turned into a pussy-boy like Nelson. His asshole was strictly for shitting and farting. He never even allowed the Negro girls he fucked around with to go anywhere NEAR his asshole with their tongues or fingers, and he wasn't about to let a white man stick a finger inside him!

Jacob's fierce resistance was met with the thud of Mr. Potter's boot smashing against his skull. The pain of the brutal blow nearly knocked him unconscious. He collapsed, dizzy and defeated, back onto the bale of hay, the twin black globes of his naked rump arched invitingly into the air.

"Fuck....you," Jacob mumbled wearily. He still struggled to get up, but collapsed again like a man intoxicated or drugged. "I....I ain't no cracker's bitch!" he cried out weakly.

Elijah was filled with sympathy for Jacob, and the scene triggered memories of his own recent humiliations at the hands of Master James. He bravely nudged James and begged him to intervene before Jacob suffered any further.

James too was shocked by Mr. Potter's violence, and felt that it came dangerously close to disregarding his instructions not to damage Jacob in any way. He didn't want a reputation as a cruel master, and nearly leapt to his feet to stop things before they got out of hand.

But the sight of the proud stable-boy slumped over, his round virgin ass ripe and ready to be plucked, was undeniably arousing. James recalled the many times he'd sat behind Jacob in the wagon and drooled over the curves of his sweaty ass as it pushed against the boy's dirty pants. He'd come close to possessing the Negro teen's masculine treasure two days earlier, and now he had a second chance....if not to take Jacob's anal virginity directly, at least to enjoy a front-row seat to the defiant young slave's deflowering. Despite the urgings of his conscience and Elijah, James couldn't muster the strength to stop the scene playing out before him. Besides, hadn't he promised Mr. Potter that he wouldn't interfere?

With Jacob weakened and disoriented, Mr. Potter proceeded to grasp, squeeze, and strike the stable-boy's muscular upturned buttocks.

"Stupid nigger, you should've given up when we gave you the chance," Mr. Potter hissed, violently slapping Jacob's right ass-cheek. "Cry all you want, but today you WILL be a cracker's bitch!"

Mr. Potter's face took on a look of fierce determination. Using both hands, he pried apart Jacob's fleshy half-globes, revealing the tiny prized pucker buried deep between them. It was little more than a black-purplish dot, encircled by dark wisps of hair and clenched tightly shut against any attempted invasion.

Mr. Potter ran his finger up and down Jacob's moist ass-crack, brushing it against the crispy curls running along the base of both buttocks. A musky smell of sweat and shit wafted up from the runaway slave's mud-caked ass, an odor to be expected after two days without washing.

"You see that, boys?" Mr. Potter said enthusiastically, spreading Jacob's butt- cheeks to expose his tightly sealed asshole. "This right here's what I'm talkin' about! Fresh nigger pussy! Ain't no way in hell a hole this tight's ever been touched!"

Jacob protested hoarsely and struggled to stay conscious after the terrible blow to his head. He was aware of the large hands pawing and probing his ass, but his stunned body was powerless to do anything to stop it.

James stumbled to his feet and stepped forward to get a closer look, captivated by the sight before him. He tried to conceal the rock-hard dick tenting beneath his pants.

Elijah sighed, all-too-familiar with the white man's faraway expression. Apparently Master James wasn't the only white man with an interest in Negro boys' shit-holes, Elijah reflected with surprise. What if this obsession with ass was some kind of white-man disease that had spread to him? He squirmed uneasily and fought his own urge to get a closer look at Jacob's body. Would the older slave's asshole excite him as much as Thad's, Lil Rooster's, and Abel's?

The overseers scrunched their noses in disgust at the sight of Jacob's exposed anus, surprised by the passion with which Mr. Potter was describing a nigger buck's smelly asshole.

"Hell, no!" blurted out Foster, the youngest and most outspoken of the Stampley overseers. "I ain't tryin' to disrespect you or nothin', Mr. Potter, but I know pussy, and that for damn sure ain't a pussy!"

"Of course it ain't, literally speakin'," Mr. Potter answered, laughing at the young man's prudish but natural disgust. "But think on it like this, son. I pay upwards of a thousand dollars or more to the traders in Columbus and Atlanta for nigger-girls guaranteed to be virgins at the time of sale. I buy 'em for me, my sons, and my men, and they're worth every goddamn extra penny, ain't they, boys?"

The three Potter overseers nodded in agreement.

Mr. Potter poked crudely at Jacob's wrinkled asshole with his fingers.

"But here we got ourselves a cocky nigger buck just BEGGIN' us to teach him a lesson, with a hole I GUARANTEE ain't never been touched by a living soul....a hole just as warm and tight wrapped around a dick as any pussy....so why not turn his uppity self into our very own nigger-slut?"

The overseers glanced at each other, curious but still skeptical.

"Nah, I ain't fuckin' no coon's smelly shit-hole!" Foster insisted, shaking his head vigorously.

"Look, I ain't into fuckin' my own kind neither," Mr. Potter assured him. "But why the hell not try it, just this once? I'm tellin' you, it's the perfect punishment. We fuck the pride right out of him 'til he ain't nothin' but another silly, stooping darky!"

Mr. Potter spat a wad of saliva directly onto Jacob's dark asshole, which clenched itself even tighter at the touch of the foreign substance. He used his fingers to smear it around the stable-boy's black-purplish pucker, making it slick and shiny with bubbly spit.

Every muscle along Jacob's shoulders, back, ass, and legs rippled with rage and resistance to the burly white man's touch. The room seemed to be spinning. Girls had sometimes clutched and caressed his buttocks as he fucked them, but this was sickeningly, shamefully different. Now his ass was being played with like a piece of pussy, and Jacob dreaded what it was being prepared for.

"My....my ass ain't no pussy!" Jacob gasped, thrashing about to escape Mr. Potter's probing fingers. But the rope binding his hands allowed him little mobility, and he looked like a fish flopping around on dry land.

"We're going to see about that," Mr. Potter replied grimly.

He pressed the tip of his index finger against the wrinkled ring of Jacob's asshole, demanding entrance to the vigorously defended opening. The angrily clenched muscle fought fiercely against the intrusion, but the strength of Mr. Potter's finger broke past the protective circle and pushed into the tight, dark-moist tunnel beneath.

Jacob's mouth gaped open in a silent scream of pain. His body lurched forward to escape the violation, but because it was already smashed against the bale of hay, Jacob had no choice but to submit to the finger penetrating his virgin passageway. The pain was far worse than he'd ever imagined, and Jacob shuddered to think what a thicker and longer intruder might cause him to suffer.

Mr. Potter could only slide his finger two inches into Jacob's insides before being met with more resistance. The stable-boy's anal walls sealed themselves shut to block further invasion, and the upper two inches of the Negro teen's tunnel nearly suffocated Mr. Potter's finger with its grip.

"Damn, this nigger's ass is tight!" Mr. Potter exclaimed with growing excitement. "I've had my fingers up plenty of pussy in my time, but never felt one as tight as this!"

The other men stared with disgust and fascination as their boss shoved his finger into the runaway slave's spit-soaked asshole. Several pulled flasks out of their pockets and swigged liquor as they watched the strange scene.

Mr. Potter's cock jerked and expanded beneath his pants. The idea of raping Jacob had started out as a desire to degrade a defiant slave who dared to deem himself the white man's equal. But the sensation of Jacob's asshole sucking hungrily on his finger now aroused a more carnal motivation. He remembered the cute little pickaninny boy he'd fucked on that drunken night many years earlier. He recalled the pleasure of forcing his dick between the nigger-boy's tiny upturned buttocks, slamming into the skinny little body while the deflowered boy sobbed into the grass for his Mama. Mr. Potter realized the boy would now be around Jacob's age, and wondered if fucking a nigger man would be equally enjoyable.

Impatient to satisfy his curiosity, Mr. Potter shoved his finger completely into Jacob's ass with a brutal thrust.

Jacob grimaced in pain, and his breathing tightened into panicked gasps. His hips pushed against the bale of hay as if trying to dig an escape tunnel with his dick. The muscles of his buttocks tensed and rose, strangling Mr. Potter's finger between them.

Jacob's squirming only fueled Mr. Potter's lust. He jerked and wriggled his finger around the stable-boy's rectum in aggressive exploration. He spit on Jacob's ass and forced a second finger, then a third, into the stable-boy's fiercely resistant tunnel. Eventually he was shoving three fingers in and out of the muscled teen's tight, slimy asshole, furiously poking and prodding against the slick, silky walls of Jacob's rectum.

Jacob's eyes squeezed shut to block out the pain and humiliation of having his ass finger-fucked like a bitch's pussy. The violation of Mr. Potter's thick fingers sent shockwaves of searing pain throughout his body. The man's jagged fingernails scraped rudely against his insides. Jacob wanted to shout curses at the disgusting white man so gleefully robbing him of his masculine pride.

Goddamn filthy crackers, Jacob thought to himself in a dizzy rage. Only white men could find enjoyment from shoving fingers up another man's shit-hole.

Mr. Potter continued assaulting Jacob's ass with his right hand. With his left hand, he shoved his pants to his knees, undid the flap of his undergarment, and released his stubby erection.

James watched with envy as Mr. Potter's fingers forced their way in and out of Jacob's ass with delicious slurping sounds. His dick strained against his clothing as he tried to imagine the tightness and texture of the stable-boy's virgin tunnel.

It had been one thing to corrupt the innocence of boys like Elijah and Thad, or to take advantage of Abel's trust and admiration. But Jacob presented an entirely new thrill altogether: the opportunity to compromise a young man's masculinity by forcing him to be another man's bitch, a degraded role previously unthinkable or detestable in the average male's mind.

James also felt an awakening need for revenge, a desire to punish Jacob and restore the proper relationship of slave to master upon which the entire institution of slavery depended for its survival.

But more than anything, James was stricken with a suffocating urge to possess Jacob's strong, unwilling body, to sink his cock deep into the Negro teen's rebellious bowels. And James wanted to be the FIRST to enjoy Jacob's unexplored ass, the first to pry open his prized virginity.

James's delirious desire pushed aside all concerns about modesty or reputation, and he stumbled forward to claim Jacob's virginity as his own. He stood next to Mr. Potter, who was just then positioning himself over Jacob's arched buttocks. James clutched his own dick and nodded sheepishly at Jacob's prone body.

Mr. Potter looked at James with an expression of amusement mixed with disappointment.

"What the hell am I thinking?" Mr. Potter exclaimed apologetically. "It's your nigger, after all. Of course you should have the honor of fuckin' him first!"

Mr. Potter tucked away his frustrated dick, stepped to the side, and motioned for James to enjoy the feast laid out before him.

"He's all yours, Little Jimmy!" Mr. Potter insisted, patting James encouragingly on the back. "Show the uppity little nigger who's Master around here!"

Jacob glanced over his shoulder and sighed with shame and fear when he saw James standing behind him. He eyed the bulge in James's pants, and knew the creature beneath wanted to plunge into his shit-hole, which was still stinging from the assault by Mr. Potter's fingers. He tried to crawl away, but Mr. Potter stomped the heel of his boot into the small of Jacob's back, smashing his body against the hay-bale in helpless submission.

In Boston, James would have been mortified by the idea of exposing himself to other men. And the possibility of fucking another man in front of an audience would have been unthinkable. But Jacob's muscular whip-scarred buttocks beckoned James like a siren, and his lust-crazed mind was conscious only of the masculine virgin ass he was about to penetrate.

James trembled with anticipation as he stepped up behind Jacob's upturned ass. He reached slowly forward and grasped at the stable-boy's firm dark mounds, caked with mud and streaks of dried urine.

He noticed the smell of shit, piss, and sweat hanging thick in the air, but strangely enough wasn't disgusted by it. Instead, he found it oddly intoxicating, and inhaled the rich musky fragrance of the dirty runaway slave.

He gasped with delight as he kneaded Jacob's ass muscles, running his fingers along the ridges of the young man's scars. He admired the strength and shapeliness of Jacob's perfectly rounded buttocks, typical of most Negro males but no less breathtaking in their beauty.

James pressed his finger into Jacob's ass-crack and slid it along the deep cavern from the edge of Jacob's backbone until it found his moist, panting asshole. He shoved his finger into the tight, slick opening and watched with guilty arousal as Jacob's body tensed in pain and resistance.

James closed his eyes and savored the strange texture of the stable-boy's ass tunnel, circling his finger in eager exploration. It was only the third Negro butt he'd examined this way, but James was amazed at how each was unique in appearance, texture, and tightness. Jacob's asshole was more wrinkled than Elijah's, hairier than Abel's, and tighter than both despite his slightly older age.

The precum leaking from James's throbbing cock reminded him that Jacob's ass offered up greater delights to James's dick than it did his fingers. He fumbled to unfasten his belt and jerk his pants to his knees. He unbuttoned the square flap of his undergarment and freed his fire-red dick so that it jutted into the air.

Half-squatting, half-standing, James positioned himself behind Jacob's lanky, sprawled-out body. He tried to ignore Mr. Potter, who stood just a couple feet away with his boot still firmly implanted in Jacob's back.

The beauty of Jacob's muscular coal-black buttocks bent over the hay-bale was so striking that James feared his dick might unleash its pent-up fluids before finding its way to the receptacle it craved.

Eager to avoid such an embarrassing disappointment, James spat on his dick and pointed it at Jacob's tiny wrinkled hole. He pressed the tip of his cock against the tightly sealed orifice. He shook in awed disbelief that he was about to mount a black boy as proud and handsome as Jacob.

James pushed with all his might and broke past the tight circle of Jacob's anus, sighing in ecstasy as he sank three inches of his manhood into the stable-boy's forbidden tunnel.

Jacob yelled with surprise at the searing pain of the invasion. Ashamed of his weakness, he buried his face in the hay to stifle any additional screams. His wide nostrils flared with humiliated rage at having his shit-hole stuffed with another man's dick. He shut his eyes in shame, braced his body against the pain, and tightened his asshole to expel its assailant.

James had lodged less than half his cock in Jacob's rectum when his dick seemed to hit another obstacle. Desperate to plunder the deepest treasures of Jacob's intestines, James seized Jacob by his hips and heaved into his body with all the strength he could muster. The intensity of the thrust was too much for the runaway slave's weakened body. Jacob's rectal walls collapsed, allowing James to sink his hungry shaft deep into the stable-boy's hot, squishy bowels.

Jacob's face tightened in agonized suffering. He bit into the hay to smother his moans and brace himself against the excruciating pain.

The sight of Jacob gritting his teeth like a woman in childbirth only excited James all the more. The sound of the stable-boy's deep, defiant voice reduced to raspy, panicked gasps was a thing of thrilling beauty. James buried his dick up to its base in Jacob's butt, grinding his hips in circular motions as a silent declaration of victory over the stable-boy's surrendered virginity. James slowly withdrew his dick, slick with spit and shit, and then shoved it back in with brutal force.

Jacob jerked his head up in angry alarm, offering up silent howls to the stable roof.

Holding Jacob firmly by the waist, James thrust in and out of his asshole with accelerating speed and intensity. Because of the load he'd dumped in Abel's mouth earlier that morning, James was able to prolong the pleasure he was taking from Jacob's body. He savored the warm, wet suction of Jacob's surrendered insides as he pummeled the Negro teen's prostrate body. His red, veiny dick pumped in and out of Jacob's dark-purplish asshole, disappearing into the young man's untrammeled intestines.

James bucked wildly up and down, slamming his dick into Jacob's body with merciless speed and force. These frenzied gyrations were spurred on by Jacob's angry gasps each time James's dick pushed against its deepest point inside Jacob's ass.

Mr. Potter watched with jealous fascination, cheering on James's every thrust.

"God-DAMN, that looks like some good tight pussy," Mr. Potter declared.

James grunted in affirmation, then shut his eyes to focus on the pleasure Jacob's body was giving him.

"Don't it sound just like pussy, boys?" Mr. Potter asked the other onlookers. "Slurpin' and smackin' and suckin' just like a wet cunt!"

Several of the men nodded in nervous agreement and fondled their dicks through their pants. The others looked on uneasily, drowning their discomfort with gulps of liquor.

For the first several minutes of Jacob's rape, Elijah squirmed sullenly in his seat, angry with Master James and sorry for his fellow slave. But hard as he tried to shut out the scene before him, the rhythmic slurping/smacking/gurgling/farting sounds of ass-fucking grew louder and more pronounced, until Elijah could think of nothing else. At first they reminded him of his own painful rape at Master James's hands. But soon the sounds began to conjure memories of his own dick going in and out of his little brother and Abel, and his cock sprang guiltily to life. He wondered if the ass of an older boy like Jacob felt just as good, or better? He tried to fling such filthy thoughts from his mind, but the enticing sounds filling the room overwhelmed Elijah's feeble willpower. He now stood on his bale of hay, straining to get a better view of the show as he reached beneath his ragged pants and eagerly stroked his dick.

When James feared that orgasm might overtake him, he halted his pace to slow and sensual strokes, rocking softly into the tense body beneath him. He motioned for Mr. Potter to remove his foot from Jacob's back, and lay his body flat against the stable- boy's sweaty back. He nuzzled Jacob's sticky neck and savored the feeling of their warm bodies pressed so intimately together.

As he pumped his hips in slow, circular motions, James licked hungrily at Jacob's neck, cheeks, and ears, tasting the salty bitterness of sweat and dried piss. He stared at Jacob's beautiful African features: its eyes clenched in pained resentment, its nostrils flared in shame and anger, its mouth wincing with every sharp thrust of James's dick.

Drunk with lust and power, James no longer felt any sympathy for Jacob. Instead, he relished his conquest of the cocky boy's manhood. He remembered his own humiliation at Jacob's hands just two days earlier, and intensified his assault on the arrogant adolescent's virgin body.

Jacob's grunts grew louder and more desperate. James pressed his mouth against Jacob's ear and whispered the same insults Jacob had hurled at him when the roles were reversed:

"You feel that, nigger? You like that white dick up inside your pussy, nigger?"

"Fuck you," Jacob hissed between heavy panting. "I....ain't....no....pussy," he gasped to the rhythm of James's angry fucking. "And I ain't....yours....or nobody else's.... nigger.... neither!"

Jacob tried to cling to his last shred of manhood, even as the white man's dick pounded his ass like it was sweet, juicy pussy. But it was a losing battle. If given the chance, would he be able to look his buddies in the eyes again, or fuck girls with his former talent and confidence?

Jacob's defiance spurred James on to more determined and violent thrusts. He licked and bit at Jacob's neck and ears as he lunged his manhood deep into the slave's warm guts.

He closed his eyes and pictured Jacob's sweaty bubble-butt rising and falling, rising and falling as Jacob fucked some moaning Negro girl in a dirty slave-cabin, and the image made James's possession of that very same ass all the more satisfying. He flung his cock into it with wild abandon, stretching open Jacob's battered asshole and obliterating all remaining signs of his precious virginity.

The suction of Jacob's tight rectal tunnel tempted James toward an explosive climax. James rested his face against Jacob's moist neck and pounded furiously into the muscular ass beneath him. When he could hold off no longer, he heaved his body into one final thrust and fired thick, steamy cum deep into Jacob's rectum.

Jacob shuddered with disgust as he felt the warm semen soiling his insides. Surely there was nothing more degrading than feeling another man's hot baby-juices sloshing around one's intestines! He wondered if his mother and Laney had felt as he did now, when raped in front of he and his father by drunken overseers.

At least he didn't have to worry about having a white man's baby, he reflected with bitter relief. But Jacob could see the other white men circling him like vultures, stroking their dicks and getting drunker by the minute, and he knew his nightmare was far from over.

James lay limply atop Jacob for several minutes, enjoying the warmth of the stable- boy's sweat-soaked body. He was jolted out of his reverie by Mr. Potter's booming voice.

"Damn, Little Jimmy, you ain't gonna keep the nigger all for yourself, are you?"

Mr. Potter laughed and pulled lewdly at his crotch.

James lifted himself off Jacob and pulled his soft, slimy dick from the Negro's ass with a sharp plopping noise. A trail of cum and shit-juice seeped from Jacob's stretched asshole. He stumbled away from Jacob's body like a man waking reluctantly from a pleasant dream.

Suddenly James became aware of the eyes following his every move, and he blushed with embarrassment. He collapsed beside the bale of hay, weary from his exhilarating orgasm yet curious to watch Jacob's continued degradation.

Mr. Potter wasted no time taking James's place behind Jacob's bent-over body. Grabbing Jacob by the hips, he shoved his thick stump into Jacob's raw asshole without the slightest hesitation or consideration for the slave's feelings. The slick coating of James's cum allowed him entry with little resistance, and in no time he was bucking wildly into the body beneath him.

Mr. Potter stabbed Jacob's asshole with short, fast strokes, closing his eyes and grunting like a hog in heat.

Mr. Potter's stocky build gave his thrusts a violence that James's had lacked. Jacob felt like he was being ripped in two by the burly white man's thick cock. He couldn't comprehend how Nelson had participated in such a painful, degrading act so enthusiastically. To Jacob, the sensation of getting fucked felt like taking a boiling-hot shit over and over again, and he desperately hoped his suffering would soon be over.

"Damn, boys, with my eyes shut I'd swear this was pussy!" he called out, smacking Jacob's ass-cheeks so hard that he left purple handprints in the boy's ebony skin.

"Ain't as clean as pussy," he observed, looking down at his shit-smeared dick pumping in and out of Jacob's anus. "But it's for damn sure just as tight. Tighter, in fact!"

Eventually the pain grew so great for Jacob that he could no longer suppress his screams, and he matched Mr. Potter's brutal thrusts with savage shouts of pain.

"You don't sound so tough now, do you, boy?" Mr. Potter taunted, humping Jacob like a drunken jackrabbit.

"You like havin' this white dick shoved in your shitter? Well, you best get used to it, 'cause as long as you draw breath you ain't gonna be nothin' but a white man's bitch. On your knees, on your back, hung upside down, it don't matter. You'll have so many cocks stuffed in your ass and throat 'fore we're through with you, you won't remember what pussy is!"

"Go....to....hell!" Jacob shouted between his loud moans. "I....ain't....no....pussy-boy....you fat....cracker.... motherfucker!"

Mr. Potter laughed uproariously.

"You hear that, boys?" he mocked. "This nigger says he ain't a pussy-boy! Well, I guess he ain't aware of the DICK shoved in his ass-cunt!"

The other men joined Mr. Potter in laughter at the ridiculousness of Jacob's refusal to accept reality. The alcohol and sex-sounds had loosened them up, and most had begun to enjoy the afternoon's adventure.

Mr. Potter slammed his heavy body into Jacob's aching asshole. In an effort to increase the stable-boy's pain, he pulled his dick completely out, dripping with Jacob's ass-juices, then forced it back in with brutal force, ripping open Jacob's asshole each time. He did this several times in a row, causing Jacob to cry out in furious agony.

Being more experienced than James, Mr. Potter lasted much longer, pummeling Jacob's body for what seemed like hours. At times, he slapped Jacob's ass or yanked at his tangled hair while taunting the stable-boy with cruel insults. At other times, he closed his eyes and fucked in rhythm to his own groans of pleasure.

Eventually he shook with a volcanic orgasm, unleashing a geyser of scalding cum into Jacob's already-polluted bowels. He yanked his dick out of Jacob's ass and scooped up the slimy cum trickling out of Jacob's panting asshole. Pants still down around his ankles, he walked around to where Jacob's face pressed awkwardly into the bale of hay and shoved his cum-soaked fingers into the boy's shocked and disgusted mouth.

"It'll probably do you good to get some white man in you," Mr. Potter laughed, wiggling his messy fingers around the inside of Jacob's mouth.

The taste of cum and ass-slime caused the mortified stable-boy to gag. When Mr. Potter withdrew his fingers, Jacob spat and sputtered violently to rid his mouth of the nasty substance.

Mr. Potter tucked away his dick, buttoned his drawers, yanked up his pants, and looked around at the rest of the men.

"Who's next?" he bellowed. "We ain't goin' home 'til this nigger's loose as my wife's cunt, and every single one of 'ya best do your part at least once!"

Richardson and Snopes already had their pants to their knees and dicks in hand, looking at one another to see who'd be the first to try fucking a nigger boy. Foster and the three Potter overseers remained fully clothed, but looked dizzy and drunk and far more willing to follow their boss's lead than they had an hour earlier.

Jacob looked wearily around the room, and despaired when he saw that his swollen, stinging asshole was going to be fucked six more times, at the very least. He wished Mr. Potter had kicked him unconscious. At least that would have spared him the horrific pain and humiliation of being gang-raped by eight white men. And he hoped they'd go ahead and shoot him when they were done, because he'd never be able to face his sister or friends again, not after something as degrading as this.

"Jesus Christ, boys!" Mr. Potter growled impatiently. "He's just a dumb nigger. It ain't like fuckin' him's gonna turn you off to pussy for good!"

Richardson stepped nervously forward and approached Jacob's upturned bubble- butt.

"There 'ya go, he ain't gonna bite," Mr. Potter coaxed sarcastically.

Richardson held his hands behind his back, reluctant to touch the dirty stable-boy more than necessary, and flopped his flaccid dick between the firm folds of Jacob's buttocks. He slid it up and down the slave's slick ass-crack, pushing it against the warm, wet asshole. But nothing Richardson did could excite his dick into an erection.

"I sure am sorry, Mr. Potter," Richardson said sheepishly, putting his dick away in surrender. "It's 'cause I ain't used to fuckin' nigger boys, I reckon."

Mr. Potter began to reply angrily, then paused as if possessed with a new idea.

"Snopes, I'd like a word with you!" he said impatiently. He put his arm around the senior overseer's shoulders and led him to the side of the room. They talked in hushed tones, and Snopes broke into a toothless grin.

Snopes left the barn, and returned several minutes later with a beautiful young Negro girl by his side, no more than fourteen years of age.

"I'm thinkin' this pretty nigger girl might be just the thing you boys need to get your dicks hard," Mr. Potter explained with sadistic delight.

The rest of the men cheered with enthusiastic agreement, drooling at the sight of the scared little girl with nappy pigtails.

Jacob turned dizzily around to see the girl that Mr. Potter was talking about. His heart sank in despair when he recognized who it was.

It was Laney.

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

If you're enjoying this series, please let me know! I would love to hear advice on how my writing might improve, characters or scenes you particularly enjoy, suggestions for future characters or storylines, stories and fantasies of your own, and anything else you might want to share. E-mail me at WannabeWhitman@yahoo.com.