Date: Mon, 19 Dec 2011 18:23:02 -0500
From: lokiaga@austin.rr.com
Subject: Rue Dauphine 8

Rue Dauphine 8
Lance Kyle

Scott Barnes woke up with a sense of peace, also that he was being watched.
He was.  King, the massive black slave who had shared his uncle's bed now
shared his, and was lying next to him on his side, head propped up on the
elbow of a thick arm, looking at Scott's naked body.  King reached out an
arm and gently rubbed Scott's chest.

"You sure do look like your uncle, Masta," he said.  "Of course he was
older when...when I first met him, but you sure look like him."  Scott
nodded, smiling; that would certainly explain the passion with which the
big man had made love to him last night.  They exchanged one long kiss and
were then distracted by a sound in the doorway.

There stood James and Niobe, both naked.  James's penis bobbed with his
morning erection.  Niobe, accustomed to her nakedness in front of James and
Scott, stood proudly, her arched back pushing out her grapefruit sized
brown breasts.  She looked at King appraisingly, but did not care that this
was the first time he had seen her naked.  Boy and girl hurried to the bed
and piled in, gleefully.

"We looked in the other bedroom and you wasn' there, Masta," said James.
"So we knew to try here," said Niobe.  The thirteen year old boy and
fourteen year old girl squirmed in between the two men, Niobe on King's
side, James on Scott's side.  Much hugging and tickling ensued for a
moment, and then the increasingly rampant state of the penises, two plum
black and one dusky rose, gave pause to all four people.  They knew what
would happen if they went further.  And so they went.

King rolled over on his back and pulled Niobe on top of him.  Her torso
stretched out on his entirely above his penis so that it rose like a flag
staff down between her legs.  King hugged the fourteen year old brown girl
to his massive chest, running his hands down her back and rubbing, now
massaging, now playfully slapping her bottom.  Next to him Scott had done
the same with James, but their groins met, their rampant penises rubbing
together as a small thick patch of kinky pubic hair met a larger dirty
blonde one.  Scott hugged the boy to his chest tightly, burying his face in
the boy's crinkly, crisp black hair, and he also ran his hands up and down
the boy's back and bottom.

Silence and giggles gave way to heavier breathing, the occasional gasp.
The boy and girl slid up and began long, passionate kisses with the men,
hands still exploring, prodding, rubbing.  Scott reached for the goose
grease and pressed some into James's anus, then rubbed some around his
penis, and pushed James back down a little in the direction of his standing
cock.  Likewise, King broke off a kiss with Niobe and pushed her to a
sitting position with his hands against her round brown breasts, and then
pushed her back toward his massive, swollen member.  Both boy and girl
squatted above the erections of the man beneath them, and then at the same
time slid down onto it.  Both gasped, but did not hesitate.  Niobe had the
worst of it, having to accommodate King's thick, long African member.  Girl
and boy were fully landed each on a man's cock, squatting there, and then
by common consent the rhythm began.

Sometimes the boy or girl squatted upright, bouncing up and down, impaled
on a huge plum black cock or a more manageable dusky rose one.  Sometimes a
boy or girl would bend forward and lie down on the torso of their adult
lover, while the man in question bent his legs and pushed up, his thighs
making a backstop.  Sometimes a boy or girl would arch up over the man,
using his or her hands palm down against the chest of the man as a support.
Shifting positions, pumping now harder and faster, all four seemed involved
together as one.  Boy and girl sometimes linked arms or put arms over the
shoulder of the one riding the wave next to them.  Faster and faster,
pounding and pounding, and then Scott erupted first, pushing his pelvis up,
grasping James's dark brown thighs tightly as he shot like a fountain up
inside the boy.  Then with a tremendous bellow King did the same, shooting
his African sperm well up inside the girl as he clutched her tightly to his
chest.  Again and then again each man erupted in long, chained out orgasms,
struggling, until, exhausted, each man collapsed flat against the bed and
pulled their young partner down onto their chests.

Murmurings, ear bitings, whispers and giggles.  This continued for long
sweet moments, as each man's dwindling penis in its turn fell out of its
young partner with a plop.  But then Scott became focally aware of James's
erection, lying straight as a pole between them as the boy lay atop his
torso.  Scott pushed the boy up and back and reaching for the goose grease,
pulled his legs up to his chest and lubricated his anus.  James, squatting
on his haunches just below Scott's buttocks, gazed wide eyed and open
mouthed.  He had not taken his master in this way before.  He felt as if he
were being admitted to some new level of intimacy, becoming one in this way
with the white master.  Quickly Scott lubricated the end of James's penis
and then lay back, holding his knees to his chest, his anus presented as a
gift to his black boy slave.

King turned on his side with Niobe in front of him, also on her side now,
holding her tightly to him with an arm around her softly rolling belly, so
they could watch the spectacle.  James scooted forward and placed the tip
of his penis at the anus, as if presenting a gift at a temple.  And then he
pushed forward and was in sooner than he thought, almost falling forward as
he fully entered his master.  Now a look of intense concentration came over
the black slave boy as he began pumping in and out of the white flesh of
his master, his eyes frantically alternating between the sight of his
purple black penis plunging in and out of the white bottom and licking the
length of his master's torso with those eyes.  Scott hooked his ankles
around the small of James's back and pulled him in tighter.  James gasped
and redoubled his efforts, working hard, grunting a little with each rapid
push, and then his eyes began to grow inward and cross a little, and then
snapped back into focus as he locked gazes with his master when he erupted,
slamming forward, shouting and weeping but never looking away from his
master's eyes as he clenched tightly and shot his semen forward.  In that
moment the black slave boy truly felt himself merging with his white master
through the connection between cock and anus, they were one and
inseparable.  That realization survived the moment of ecstasy as he plunged
forward, his penis trailing a little cum, and slammed down onto his
master's chest, heaving and whispering his love and scrabbling against
white flesh with his hands.

King and Niobe looked at each other, smiled, and nodded.  They understood
they had just witnessed something extraordinary, and although King
certainly had it in his massive penis to go again, they left the moment to
the white man and his black slave boy.  Man and boy whispered and fondled,
tears starting in their eyes, as time returned to normal.  Long minutes
later, Scott turned to King and Niobe and declared that it was time to
begin the day.

Four were quite a lot for the shower bath.  First, they waited in line
companionably to use the toilet, witnessing the efforts of the one on the
seat altogether.  Scott went first, sending a load of defecation, African
semen, and urine down the shaft, and then he entered the shower bath to
wait for Niobe, next in line.  As King relieved himself, James standing in
front of him watching, while Scott and Niobe washed each other thoroughly
in the cool water. James likewise used the toilet seat while King watched
closely, chuckling as the boy easily dropped his load of white man's semen
and feces down the chute.  James, barely fitting into the shower beside
King, did his duty with the massive black slave.  All four dried and
dressed, Niobe finishing first to slip down quickly and prepare a
breakfast.

As they ate they could hear the distant sounds of Mrs. L'Enfant and her
crew finishing the cleaning of the attic floor in the left wing.  It was
not large, and they expected to be done by the end of the day.  They talked
about the momentous events of the last couple of days, King and Scott
rehearsing again the story of the discovery of the book and ring.  James
and Niobe listened in amazement.  They thought about recent events for a
few minutes and then Niobe spoke up.

"Masta Scott," she said, "if you ken see other people, such as Masta LeRoc,
with the waterbowl, cain't he see you?"  Scott nodded.

"I have wondered that myself," he said.  "I think one must place the bowl
on a symbol of the heart and flame, such as we have in the courtyard, so
LeRoc probably cannot use it while traveling.  But when he is at home...I
wonder."

King spoke up.  "I think maybe your uncle put this house under some kind of
protection, Masta," he said to Scott.  "If Masta LeRoc could see into the
house that way, he would have found the ring and book's location.  Masta
Balthazar must of put a spell on the house."  They all nodded at this, it
seemed like the most logical explanation.  At that moment there was a knock
at the back door of the kitchen.  James rushed to answer it and spoke a few
words with someone.  Then he turned to King and beckoned him forward.  King
likewise had a brief discussion with someone, and then turned to Scott.

"Masta Scott, this is Antoine," he said, pulling a thin, tall, elderly
black man into the kitchen.  Antoine bobbed a little bow and lifted his
cap.  "Antoine has been able to contact the voodoo queen who was struck by
the carriage.  She is willing to meet with you.  He can take us there now"

Scott expressed his gratitude to Antoine, and pressed into his hand a
gratifyingly large tip.  Scott fetched the book and ring, which he placed
in his pocket.  He gathered hat and cane and, giving the younger people
instructions as to their daily tasks, exited the kitchen into the alley,
taking care to lock the door behind him.  The three men discussed plans and
protocol as they went along, and at the advice of Antoine, Scott stopped at
a shop and bought two bottles of rum, specifically Barbancourt, as gifts to
the woman they were about to see.

Antoine led the group into progressively seedier and wilder looking
neighborhoods of New Orleans.  Dark eyes peered at them from darkened
interiors.  Increasingly, Scott saw talismans and charms on doorways and
windows.  Scantily clothed little black children came out to gawk, some
walking a short way with them.  Scott gave every such child a coin, which
they received with gravity and then departed in joy, perhaps for a sweet
shop.

Eventually, Antoine led them to a hovel that stood a little by itself
tucked into a neighborhood of shacks and old trees by a levee.  He knocked,
a distant voice bade him enter, and he did, alone.  Standing in the street,
Scott and King looked around apprehensively.  Scott had brought the ring
but was not wearing it.  He rehearsed spells of protection he had learned
from the book, in case he needed to use them.  King fingered something in
his trouser pockets, and Scott thought it was likely the bag of charms
given to the massive black slave by his uncle.  After some minutes Antoine
appeared in the doorway and motioned them in.

Scott removed his hat and cane, leaving them behind the door.  Antoine led
the way down a narrow passageway.  The house smelled strongly of incense,
but it was largely too dark to see much as he went along.  Antoine ushered
them into a small, low ceilinged room and spoke a few words in a language
Scott did not recognize to the old woman sitting in a chair.  He recognized
her as the one who had fallen in the street.  Tables on either side of her
held burning candles, images, icons, effigies, charms, bottles, pots, and
other objects.  Antoine beckoned Scott forward.

Scott bowed low and then got down on one knee and presented the bottles to
the woman.  She looked surprised, then skeptical, then took the bottles and
examined them, then a look of pleasure flashed across her face.  She looked
hard at Scott.

"You did not push me down in the street before?"  she asked.

"No Madame, and I also apologize for handing you the handkerchief with
the...the offending image on it.  I had forgotten it was there.  This," he
said turning to gesture are King, "This is my...FRIEND, King."  King
likewise came forward and bowed.  The old woman now stared at Scott with
astonishment.

"I am Mama Désirée," she said.  She reached for a small cup and handed it
to Scott.  "Drink this," she said.  Summoning all his courage he took the
cup and looked at it.  It appeared to be tea, but he was skeptical.
Nevertheless, he drank it all down in one draught.  It WAS tea.  Some
leaves remained in the bottom.  He thanked her and returned the cup.

Mama Désirée smiled, perhaps as much at Scott's discomfiture as anything
else, and looked at the leaves.  Then she reached for a nearby bottle and
poured a few drops into the cup, swirled them again, and studied the dregs
for long moments.  Then she nodded, as if receiving a satisfactory answer.

"No use in much talk. You are a good man, Scott Barnes," she said.  "You
keep slaves, yes.  But perhaps in a way not many white men do.  You are a
good man."  Scott did not know how to reply so he nodded and kept his eyes
downcast.  She continued: "And you, King," she said, "I can see into your
heart." She jutted out a bony finger at his chest, and he took a step back,
breathing a little heavily.  "Your heart tells me much about this
man...about his family.  Yes, much," she said.  She paused in thought.

"Your neighbor LeRoc, he wishes me ill, he wishes the servants of my
religion ill...he wishes this man," she gestured at King, "ill...This man
should be your servant instead."  Scott nodded and assured her that he had
his lawyer looking into it.  She nodded.  There was another long,
thoughtful pause.  "LeRoc seeks another ring, of..." and here she could
only whisper, " the Frères."  She cleared her throat and continued.  "He
must not obtain one.  Not yours, not another's.  We must study how to stop
him," she said.  She looked hard at Scott: "You are not wearing the ring
now," she declared.é

"No, Madame, but I have it with me, and the book," said Scott in a soft
voice.  Mama Désirée gasped and reached for something in a bag she kept in
her lap, but then paused, waiting.  Then she nodded once.  She beckoned
Antoine to come to her and spoke to him again in the language Scott could
not understand.  He immediately left the room.  Mama Désirée reached for a
large pot near her and pulled a handful of what looked like dust.  She cast
it into the air in front of her.  The dust turned to smoke with some
sparkles of light in it.  Into this small cloud, which was already
vanishing, Mama Désirée stood.  Clutching a cane and several bags she
motioned her guests down the hallway and into another room.  In it was a
table with several candles on it.  She bade them sit as she lit the
candles, then she studied some objects she had in one of the bags, humming
to herself, until there was a knock on the door and Antoine entered.  He
was accompanied by two other ancient women, dressed as was Mama Désirée.

Antoine dropped back as the two women sat at the table, greeting Mama
Désirée in a language Scott did not understand.  They glared at him
sharply, and he felt sure he heard one of them mutter "Frère" under her
breath.  Then Mama Désirée stood and began delivering to her two cronies a
speech in the same unfamiliar language.  To Scott it sounded as if she were
arguing a case.  She gestured at Scott and at King from time to time.  When
she was finished the other two old women began an animated discussion in
the mysterious language.  After a few minutes, Mama Désirée sat back down
again.

"We cannot destroy LeRoc," she said.  "Too strong, negative consequences on
us too bad."  She paused.  "But we must contain him, and we can.  However,
we must speak together of how to do this.  You have the book?" she
asked. He nodded.  "And the ring?" she asked.  Again he nodded.  "Bring out
the book and put on the ring," she said.

Scott paused for a moment.  He was taking a chance, but so were they.  But
he turned to King.  "You should return to your house.  LeRoc returns later
today, may even be there now, and will expect you.  And if I have on the
ring and he has the means to see...which he may not...he ought not find you
with me.  Return, and come back to see us when you can," he said.  King
hesitated, looking darkly at the three old women, but then agreed.  His
hand brushed the white man's shoulder softly.  King asked Antoine at the
door to return Scott safely to his home, and Antoine agreed to do so.  King
went out into the twisted streets.

Now Scott sat down and pulled out the book which he placed on the table.
He pulled out the ring.  The three women gasped, and he could sense them
securing certain objects from their belongings, below the table.  He
paused.  Then he put on the ring.  As before, nothing dramatic happened,
but he could sense everything more sharply.  The three women started,
leaned forward and looked at him in a piercing way.  They muttered among
themselves for a while and then Mama Désirée spoke.

"We must pool our knowledge.  Let us consider the best way forward."  And
for long hours, the three women and Scott bent their heads together, Scott
consulting his book, the women casting certain talismans and charms onto
the table and reading their disposition.  Eventually, well into the
afternoon, a plan of strategies was formulated.  Fatigued with the effort,
Scott returned the ring and book to his pocket, rose, and bowed low to all
three women.  Mama Désirée rose and suddenly struck out her hand like a
snake, seizing Scott's hand in hers.  She grasped the hand of the old woman
next to her, and they all did so, forming a circle around the table.  Mama
Désirée began chanting, and the old women kept up a steady beat of response
behind her.  Then she stiffened, threw her head back, her eyes rolled up in
her head and she stood there like that for a moment.  A guttural voice
spoke one long sentence from within her, then she swayed and came out of
the trance, looking disoriented for a moment.  Recovering herself she
looked around and said, "Our enterprise is blessed.  Go now," she said to
Scott, "and look for us soon."

Antoine led Scott back through the strange neighborhood and into his own,
arriving there in the late afternoon hours.  Entering his house, he was
greeted by James and Niobe, who had been busy with their appointed tasks
all day. He was informed that Grant and company had delivered the remaining
livery for James, and all of the order for Niobe, which stood in boxes in
the hallway.  Mrs. L'Enfant and her crew emerged from the left wing but a
few minutes later, her face beaming with pride.

"We have finished with our restoring of this wing," she said, and gestured
grandly toward the door.  Scott and the young people entered gladly, and
she led them on a tour of both floors and the attic.  She had done a superb
job.  The sitting room and dining room were inviting, the game room looked
as if a group of sportsmen might at any minute gather there to admire the
firearms.  Scott asked James to bring the new shotguns he had purchased to
include in the collection.  A fresh smell of oil, paint, and cleaning
supplies permeated the light, airy hall.  On the second floor, each bedroom
was fresh and inviting, the late afternoon sun filtering through half
shuttered windows.  Mrs. L'Enfant led the way to the attic hallway.  Each
of the servants' rooms were plain but neat, and very clean.  James and
Niobe sorted out who would have which room, but they seemed to make a point
of reassuring Scott that their nights would most likely be spent in the
central wing.  A spirit of rebirth and cleanliness permeated the whole
wing.  Scott thanked Mrs. L'Enfant profusely, paid her well and more than
well, and told her that he might well ask for her services in restoring the
right wing before long.  She agreed and, bidding them au revoir, left the
house.

Returning downstairs Scott discovered that a note had just been left by
Lawyer Toogood.  LeRoc was resistant to restoring King to the house, but
not violently so.  Toogood was proceeding delicately, he said, and hoped to
have a resolution soon.  Scott thought then that LeRoc must have returned
and Toogood must have met with him just recently.  He wondered what was
going on across the street.

Scott sat for another hour as the twilight deepened, studying his book,
noting especially what would be useful for his combined campaign with the
voodoo queens.  Niobe prepared a meal and James busied himself moving his
and Niobe's new clothing to their respective rooms.  But he still reassured
Scott that the rooms were largely for keeping clothing and personal
effects, not for sleep.  After an hour Niobe called the males and they ate
dinner together in the kitchen.

Scott began to be increasingly concerned for what might be happening to
King.  What had LeRoc seen in water bowls in his absence, if anything?
What was the strange man's reaction to Toogood's overtures toward
purchasing King?  Scott decided to look into another bowl of water placed
on the heart and flame stones in the courtyard.  Setting this up, he put on
his ring and took a seat on a bench near the bowl, and concentrated on
summoning images from across the street.  Niobe and James sat near him; he
decided to tell them everything he saw, thinking honesty the best policy.

The surface of the water grew still, then cloudy as Scott concentrated, and
then it snapped into an image that confirmed his worst fears.  King was in
one of the rooms at LeRoc's that he had described.  The large slave was
standing up, his arms extended on either side, secured at each wrist to the
wall by chains.  His feet were secured to the floor with chains.  He was
naked, his beautiful dark brown body dripping with sweat that shone in the
lantern light.  LeRoc was there, of course, with a paddle of curious
construction, and he walked around King.  Scott could not hear what was
said, but LeRoc's pointed features were wrenched with anger, he shook his
fist at King, he spat at him, and then he whacked his slab sided, high
rolling buttocks hard with the paddle.  King flinched and cried out and
said something in response to LeRoc.  But clearly it was not what the
wizened old white man wanted to hear, for he continued circling and
paddling his large black slave.

Scott was horrified, and described the scene for James and Niobe, who were
equally distressed.  King's torture continued for some minutes--who knows
how long it had already been going on--and then LeRoc drew his ring from
a pocket and with his hand described a figure in the air.  King got very
still.  LeRoc went around unchaining him, but still the big man stood,
sweat making his deep chocolate skin glisten in the lantern light.  Then
LeRoc took the slave's massive black penis in his hand and led King from
the room and down a hallway, using the penis just like a leash.

The room LeRoc took him to was a bedroom, perhaps LeRoc's.  LeRoc pushed
King along and laid him on the bed.  It was as if King had lost the ability
to move on his own, but Scott thought he could detect slow passages of
disgust and anger cross the big black man's face.  King was stretched out
on his back on the bed, and what followed Scott found truly disgusting.

LeRoc stripped off his own clothes in a fury, flinging them left and right.
What was revealed was a withered, wrinkly body, muscles and skin sagging,
and a tiny penis above shriveled balls.  Off went LeRoc's wig, revealing
straggly hairs on a balding, spotted scalp.  Then like an aged eagle
stooping to its prey, LeRoc leapt atop of the black man as he lay helpless
on his back.  LeRoc took the massive penis in his mouth, sucking and
pumping it, until it involuntarily grew to rampant stiffness.  Then
reaching for a pot of some kind of ointment or lubricant, LeRoc smeared it
over King's penis and into his own dessicated butt crack.  With what looked
like a cry, LeRoc squatted over King's penis and sat down quickly.  The
pain must have been great, unless LeRoc were used to this kind of exercise;
sadly, perhaps he was.

LeRoc now rode the massive black stallion, mouthing what must have been
cries of delight, placing King's unwilling hands wherever he wanted them on
his own body.  Up and down, up and down, LeRoc pumped the black man's penis
until Scott could see King slowly open his mouth and tilt his head.  LeRoc
pumped twice as fast, and Scott could see the black man's thighs and the
sides of his buttocks jerking.  He had certainly come to his unwilling
climax.  LeRoc shifted to a slow pumping, and then when the massive organ
must have been drained, LeRoc flung himself forward to cover King's mouth
with his.  Scott's stomach turned.  Kissing hungrily, LeRoc worked the
black man's mouth for some minutes.  Then he stretched out on King as if
the big black man were a mattress and went to sleep.  Scott continued
watching for a while, but it appeared as if the egregious LeRoc had simply
fallen asleep.  King did not move.

Sad, desperate to help but unable to do so, Scott decided there was nothing
to do and no reason to keep watching.  He did not think LeRoc would
seriously harm or kill King, as the slave was valuable property.  But it
was clear LeRoc had detected or suspected something amiss--or Lawyer
Toogood's visit had put him out of sorts--and he was taking it out on
King.  Scott took off his ring and poured the water from the bowl over the
stones, returning the bowl to the kitchen.  With an arm around James and
another around Niobe, he led the way back up to his bedroom.  All three
were sad, and softly discussed King's plight.

That evening, none of the three seemed to want to do anything but cuddle in
bed, although they were naked, and so that is what they did.  Scott hoped
and prayed that the next day would bring about advancements in his plan
with the queens or in Toogood's strategies.  Hugs and cuddles slowly began
to soothe troubled minds, and they drifted off to sleep.  But downstairs, a
sheen of light passed from the right wing, gliding over the floor, to face
a window looking across the street, and it stood there all night, whether
in watch or in sadness we do not know.


Comments welcome: lokiaga@austin.rr.com