Date: Tue, 20 Dec 2011 18:31:06 -0500 From: lokiaga@austin.rr.com Subject: Rue Dauphine 9 Rue Dauphine 9 Lance Kyle You might think that Scott's, James's, and Niobe's sadness over King's treatment at the hands of LeRoc would dampen their morning spirits. But there is something about waking up in a tangle of naked brown and cream legs and arms, with rising morning erections unrelieved since the morning before, that will let the moment's urge overcome the heart's sorrow. All three, rising out of sleep, began the natural kind of cuddling, stretching, hugging, nuzzling, and sliding of hands that you might expect under the circumstances. Scott lay in the middle so that the two black slave children most naturally turned to him, closely inspecting his hair, the palette of his skin, the landscape of muscles beneath his cream colored skin. On one side James's erection batted against his thigh, while on the other Niobe's tight round girl breasts rubbed now his arm, now slid halfway over his own chest, nipple pressing nipple. Scott was suddenly taken by the thought that although he had accepted Niobe's sucking him a day or two before, he had not yet truly taken this slave girl whose body belonged to him. The thought was powerfully motivating. He half rose and scooted Niobe underneath him so that she now occupied the middle. He held himself up off of her, thighs outside her thighs, his now fully erect cock lying along the length her lower abdomen suggest the depth of the penetration he would shortly achieve. Knowing what was to happen, Niobe giggled, pressed her palms against his chest and abdomen, and whispered, "Masta!" James giggled as well and, giving up any claim to the white man for the moment, lay alongside Niobe, so close his iron hard plum black cock lay atop her hip. Scott lowered himself upon Niobe, causing her to sigh. His hands slid under her shoulders and then cupped them. His mouth found hers and in a long kiss he ran his tongue over and under hers, into her mouth as far as he could, rubbing her teeth, moving over every surface he could reach, and she returned the favor. He sucked first her lower and then her upper lip in between his own, reveling in their plump thickness. He leaned his head down and kissed her cheeks, her neck, back up to kiss her closed eyelids, back down now to her collarbone. Her own hands ran all over his back and sides, and she whispered "Masta! Masta Scott!" repeatedly, when her mouth was not covered by his. James yearned to rub his hands over the white man as well but he had a sense that this was Niobe's special moment. Still pulling Niobe's young chest to his with his hands curled around her shoulders, Scott moved his legs from outside the black slave girl's thighs to the inside, parting them, and rising up just a bit so that his rampant penis might drop off of her lower belly and down. Lowering himself again he gave some preliminary pushes with his penis. He was aware that the tip, slick with clear fluid now, was rubbing around the entrance to Niobe's vagina, and he heard her gasp with every push. Then quickly moving one hand, he manipulated his penis to the very entrance of her vagina and pushed as he returned his hand to her shoulder. He was inside her in a flash, and she groaned with pleasure, having fully dilated in her excitement to receive him. Now she clasped her hands around his back and pulled him down toward her as hard as he pulled up on her shoulders. White male body atop the black slave girl body, they melded into one. Scott's fluid rhythm of pumping was matched by hers, their two bodies flowing in tandem, and as he increased, so did she. She hooked her ankles around his calves to tighten the connection. They were one organism of pleasure for long, long minutes, and then Niobe began shuddering, crying out "Masta! Masta!" and breathing heavily. It was clear she had achieved orgasm. Immediately, in response to the contracting of her vagina over his impossibly tight penis, a strangled cry tore out of Scott as he clenched and pressed his groin forward. The two heaved and seethed in unison. They were a wave made in cream and dark brown, but the wave had made it to the shore and they lay still, recovering breath, now exchanging a gentle and lingering kiss. Then Scott withdrew with a plop, his cock still hard, flopped to Niobe's side and looked at James expectantly. The black slave boy understood that he was perfectly free to do what he wanted; he could have his master again, or tempt his master into a second orgasm inside of him. Instead, he opted for the best of both worlds. He quickly flung himself between Niobe's still-spread legs and looked at Scott with an expression of joy. "I is gonn' put our jizz together, Masta!" he said, and with no further ado plunged his rampant black cock fully into Niobe. The black girl gasped, but she thrust her hips up a bit to receive him. Unlike her white master, this black slave boy held himself up off of her, his palms splayed on the bed, smiling down at her, and he began a wide swinging rhythm, his buttocks a mighty pendulum, slamming in and out of the girl. Niobe brought her legs up and locked them by the ankles across the slave boy's lower back. He grunted hard and redoubled his efforts, her legs now pulling him down into her. "Masta!" he cried, "I can feel yo jizz in there! It mighty nice, Masta, all creamy like!" Scott smiled. By way of encouragement he gently grasped the black boy's bottom and with his hand followed it as it swung back and forth, squeezing the butt muscles. Harder and faster, a black sex machine, the boy pounded and pounded and then with a cry of desperation, his face contorted as if in agony, head twisting from side to side, James came, pushing with all his might, pushing with his toes, as he shot a torrent of semen into the black girl beneath him. Again and again he gave quick bucks with his buttocks, and then once again Niobe appeared to climax, wailing and clawing the air as her thighs and buttocks spasmed visibly. Her contractions finished the black boy off, and he in his turn toppled over to the side of the girl. All three laughed and cuddled, nuzzling in the warm afterglow. Scott and James started up a playful banter as to whether Niobe would become pregnant and if so, would it be a half white or an all brown child. She replied, "Mebbe I get a baby white on the top half and black on the bottom half!" That occasioned more laughter and joking. But soon it was time to rise. They repaired to the shower bath, first using the toilet hole one after another. Scott remained in the shower for both the slaves, enjoying the mutual soaping and cleaning that he exchanged with each one. Then they dressed and went downstairs to the kitchen building, where Niobe prepared some breakfast. They were just finishing when they heard the front door bell clang, so James scurried off to answer it, followed by Scott. Scott got there as James was letting Lawyer Toogood into the entry way. They greeted each other courteously. "I have been in communication with Mr. LeRoc, yesterday and again this morning," said Toogood. "He seems both willing and unwilling to sell the slave. But this morning he mentioned the much higher sum of," and here he handed Scott a piece of paper that made his eyebrows rise, "and although it is neither here nor there for purposes of this sale, Mr. LeRoc did say something about this sum allowing him to buy two or three...I believe the word he used was, `fresh'...servants in his place." Toogood wore a sour expression on his face; it was clear that he had read LeRoc like a book, and did not like the story. Scott thought about the matter. He wanted above all to rescue King, but the thought of the odious LeRoc procuring more hapless slaves for his molestations was repulsive. However, Scott also knew the plans he and the voodoo queens had, and he thought he saw a way out. But at that moment Niobe came in to say that Scott was wanted at the kitchen door. Distracted with so much business at once, he bade Toogood wait with a glass of cognac in the library, which the lawyer was happy to do, and Scott rushed back to the kitchen. There Niobe stood, her face a mixture of fear and determined defense of the household, as Mama Désirée stood on the kitchen threshold. She was astonished to see her master bow before this spectacle and to welcome her into the house. Mama Désirée considered Scott's welcome as if it were an important proposal, as perhaps in her world it was, and then nodded and stepped fully into the kitchen. She took a deep breath, turning her head this way and that. Then she motioned for Scott to sit down at the table. The two put their heads together, whispering over their plans. Niobe continued cleaning up from breakfast but with glances of deep distrust at Mama Désirée, and the slave girl seemed to keep an iron skillet close at hand in case she had to strike the woman in defense of her master. Scott and Mama Désirée quickly concluded their plans, the gist of which was that the voodoo queens had prepared their materials well and quickly, and plans could now be laid for the assault on LeRoc. Scott thanked her again and offered to show her the rest of the house, or to pour her a drink. Mama Désirée's eyes grew wide again; she had never heard of such invitations for her kind from a white man. But she rose and gently shook her head no, her eyes twinkling. "We must begin!" she simply said, and turning on her heel she was out the back door. Scott hurried back to the library and apologized to Toogood for the delay; but he knew now exactly what to do, after his consultation with Mama Désirée. He asked Mr. Toogood to return to LeRoc's and accept his offer, and to set a meeting one hour from that time to sign final papers and effect the transfer of the slave to Scott. Toogood agreed and crossed back over the street, being admitted to LeRoc's. Scott kept watch behind a curtain at a window, and as Toogood once again left, the minute LeRoc's door was shut, he gave an agreed upon thumbs' up sign. It was all arranged. Scott returned to the earnest study of his book to make sure he understood the plan laid with Mama Désirée. He studied until the appointed time, while James and Niobe went about their business, which now included the maintenance and upkeep of the left wing. A ring of the front door bell announced Lawyer Toogood and his assistant, who would serve as a witness. Scott put on his coat and hat and secured a cane--but he left the ring and book, not wanting LeRoc to sense their presence--and followed Toogood and his assistant across the street. Scott had little fear that LeRoc would attempt any kind of magic with two witnesses. King answered the door and admitted them, careful not to betray any sign of acquaintance with Scott. LeRoc was in his usual fawning, flourishing manner. "Ah, mon cher, so glad to conclude this business. Affairs of this sort are so tedious, n'est-ce pas?" he said, sniffing into his lace handkerchief. "I hope you will have luck with this servant, he has been very little use to me," said LeRoc. Scott felt the urge to tell LeRoc otherwise, but held his tongue. "Generally lazy, inclined to lie, I have found. But true, he did belong to your household when your dear, dear uncle was alive, and so perhaps his disposition will change, mon ami," said LeRoc. Scott managed a social smile and some sympathetic cluckings. Lawyer Toogood brought out the papers, explained them. There was an exchange of a draft on a bank, the signing and countersigning of papers, then the men rose and shook hands all around. King stood passively nearby, head down, witnessing his own sale. LeRoc beckoned to King and without looking at him commanded him to kneel. Then LeRoc gripped Scott's wrist very lightly between thumb and forefinger and placed it on King's crisp, crinkly head. "This man is now your master, obey him in all things," said LeRoc, adopting a grand manner suitable to an archbishop. Scott gave the black man's scalp an imperceptible squeeze before removing his hand. The white men were shaking hands again as King rose and stepped to one side when Scott suddenly turned to LeRoc. "Oh, mon ami, I forgot, I was going to ask of you: have you a Greek dictionary I might borrow? I felt sure my uncle would have one in his library but he does not. I would return it to you within a day, I merely need to make some notes." LeRoc looked surprised and gave it a moment's thought as a shadow of suspicion passed his face, but he could think of no reason to refuse. He stepped out quickly and then back as he had found such a book in his library. Scott had felt sure something like that would be there, but he had a backup idea or two in case it was not. Scott thanked him profusely and slipped the small book into the pocket of his coat. LeRoc showed them to the door and they left with another round of handshaking and thanks, King following them. Scott whirled around, for he felt sure he heard the sound of a kick, but LeRoc smiled like a seraph and King's grim face betrayed no pain. LeRoc's door closed. Scott thanked Toogood and invited him and his assistant back into his house for a drink, but the lawyer declined, giving the press of other business as a reason. Hailing them goodbye, Scott rang the bell and then unlocked the door himself, so it swung upon as James stepped up to answer it. Scott ushered King quickly inside. And then white man and slave boy enveloped the large black slave in a crushing embrace, Niobe running up to do the same as she heard James call for her. The four of them stood in a crush, and now everyone spoke at once, explaining how they had seen or heard of King's degradation, inquiring as to his health and wellbeing, King protesting himself not at all harmed, and so on for some minutes. Then they all stepped back a step, some dabbing at moist eyes. "Welcome back to your home, King," said Scott. He noted the black man had nothing with him, in fact, as King explained, only the small bag of talismans that Balthazar had given him, in his pocket. There was still time left in the morning, so Scott took King with him out the back door of the kitchen--he wanted no scrutiny from across the way--and led the way to Grant and company for the outfitting of King with a splendid new wardrobe of livery. But as Scott crossed Rue Dauphine down the block, he noted some things that others might not: an unusual amount of black birds seemed to building nests, or at any rate dropping some sort of material, atop LeRoc's house. An unusual number of squirrels likewise scampered in the gutters, concentrated around LeRoc's house, dropping--perhaps acorns? He could not tell. Scott knew these to be part of the preparations now beginning to be put in place by Mama Désirée. Scott and King went into the clothiers' business and King was satisfactorily measured. The large black slave grinned like a child at the thought of the clothing he would have for himself--real clothing, not comic opera props like the Egyptian costume he wore when Scott first saw him. Returning to the house, they passed the flower seller's again. Scott whispered a question to King. Tears started in the large man's eyes as he nodded yes. Scott purchased a large bouquet and gave them to King to carry, who breathed in their fragrance as they walked back home. Once again they entered through the alley and kitchen door. Niobe had prepared lunch and put the flowers in a vase to keep them fresh until later. The four happily ate together as Scott proposed a toast, in small beer, to King's return to the household. Then as Niobe cleaned up and Scott returned to the library to put his accounts and papers into order from the purchase of King, James led the slave up to the servants' quarters, showing him the renovations to the left wing all the way. King was delighted and more than once clapped his hands in surprise, memories of the old days before the wing was shut up flooding back to him. In the attic King picked out a room--now half of them were taken--but agreed with James that he would probably be spending his nights on the second floor of the central wing. When James and King returned to the library, Scott sent James about his chores. He looked steadily at King. "Now?" he asked, and the big man smiled sadly and shook his head in agreement. Scott had with him the flowers they had bought earlier, and handed them to King. Scott, now no longer afraid, brought out his keys and the two men entered the right wing ballroom. They walked across the dusty floor and King pressed the secret lock to open the door behind the portrait. Lighting a lantern, down they went to the wood door in the stone cellar beneath. Scott unlocked the door, pushed it in enough to set the lantern on the floor. The low room lit up, revealing the coffin in the middle of the room, surrounded by the untidy mess of discarded household items. Scott smiled at King and patted his back by way of steering him in. Then Scott walked back up the narrow steps to sit on the landing by the ballroom, waiting. The smell of roses grew, overpowering the fragrance of the bouquet, and Scott thought he could hear the sound of soft voices, King's and then something whispered, little more than the wind. He waited in peace, and then heard King's voice, husky, from the bottom of the stairs, "Ready Masta." Scott went down and before he pulled the door to he saw that King had placed the vase of flowers on top of the coffin. Scott locked the door and then led the way back up the stairs, closing the secret door behind them. Scott walked back the length of the ballroom with his arm around his new slave, who smiled even as he sniffed back tears. But before they left the ballroom Scott stopped. "King," he said, "why not renovate this wing of the house as well," he suggested. "I have no more fear here. I don't know that I will have grand house parties; those seem for married folk. But why let beautiful rooms sit in dust?" King agreed that it was a splendid plan. For a few moments more the two walked around the ballroom, inspecting what was beneath sheets. Stepping back into the central wing they called James and Niobe to them and explained the plan. They showed the two young ones the ballroom first. Then all four mounted the central wing staircase to the second floor and opened the door to the right wing. This appeared to be laid out exactly like the second floor of the left wing, and they all delighted in discovering furniture of an old style but in good condition under sheets and covers. At the end of the second floor hallway of this wing was a narrow staircase going only up. Holding a lantern high, Scott led the way to a landing with a door opening into the attic. Here were also piled ancient furniture and cast off household items in one large open space, with light admitted through some dormer windows, and at the far end of this space was the metal side of the cistern. Clearly the space had been used only for storage. Scott made a note to clear this out, if for no other reason than to put the refuse of the past behind them. This tour had taken much of the afternoon. They all discussed a plan for which duties King would take over in the household economy, and then the three slaves went about their business. Scott ventured to sneak a peak around a curtain into the street. For a while he saw nothing, and then staggering down the street came an old black man dressed in rags--Scott looked more closely and saw to his delight that it was Antoine, giving the performance of a lifetime--staggering down the street as if drunk beyond control. But the man also held a bottle and dripped liquid out of it at regular intervals, but only in front of LeRoc's house and for a few yards on either side. Scott smiled to himself and withdrew. Niobe went out of her way to fix a celebratory dinner for King, which they all enjoyed, but toward the end of it Scott noticed that the black man was nodding off. When pressed, King admitted that he was exhausted from a long day and a half in the clutches of LeRoc. He still did not want to talk about it, but Scott, James, and Niobe had seen enough to understand what had happened. James helped Niobe wash up while Scott took King to the second floor of the central wing. First Scott helped King into the shower bath and tenderly soaped and scrubbed him, while staying dry himself. Then he led King to the bedroom they had shared before and put him to bed as a father might a child. Scott knew there would be plenty and plenty of time for pleasure in the future. After Scott had pulled up the sheets he was turning to go, but King grabbed his wrist lightly to detain him. "Thank you, Masta," he whispered. "Thank you." Scott bent over and kissed him lightly, once on the deep brown forehead and once on his full lips, and then departed, taking the lantern with him. Scott spent another hour studying his book, making ready for what was to come. Then he was joined by James and Niobe, and they all marched upstairs. Just as they had the night before, but this time with joy at King's arrival, they cuddled and snuggled and kissed--but despite two bobbing erections, one dusky rose and one plum black, they drifted off to sleep in a tangle of brown and cream arms. A light wind danced through the house all night, perhaps, just perhaps, laughing. Comments welcome: lokiaga@austin.rr.com Contribute to keep Nifty going, it's tax deductible and they post only your first name: http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html