Date: Thu, 5 Aug 2004 07:19:38 -0700 (PDT)
From: Lance Kyle <lokiaga@prodigy.net>
Subject: Seaward Plantation war clouds 7

This story contains graphic but completely fictional
depictions of sex among men and men, and men and underage
boys and/or girls, and even nekkid women show up now and
then  If this offends you, if it is illegal for you to read
or download this, or if you are under 18, please go away.

Seaward Plantation

War clouds chapter seven

In his dream, Marcus had fallen down a well.  Mark Appleby
had warned him not to play near it, but he did nevertheless.
Somehow he knew Bundit had helped to build the well, but was
nowhere around.  Appleby extended his arm down into the
well, down, down, unnaturally far down... but Marcus, a tiny
figure at the bottom, just looked up at him.  He seemed
unable to raise his hands.... seemed paralyzed.

Appleby work with a start and a gasp, sitting up suddenly in
bed.  Well, he thought, one need not be a genius to read
THAT dream.  But... was Bundit here?  hadn't he gone?  The
events of yesterday seemed so jumbled.  Appleby was still
rubbing sleep from his eyes, deducing from the moonlight on
his bed that it was still night or very early morning, when
a dark shape, and then two, appeared in the open doorway to
his dressing chamber.

"Master?  Are you alright?  It's OK, Master Mark, we're
here," said Pan, stepping gracefully to sit on the side of
the bed.  Bacchus was but a step behind him and sat on the
other side of the bed.  Pan put both hands on Appleby's
sheet-covered knee, while Bacchus placed an open palm gently
on his back.  Their appearance in the dead of night did
nothing to reduce his disorientation at first.

"What.... huh?  Are you two sleeping in there?  Didn't....
didn't you move out?" he asked in a high, bewildered voice.

Bacchus chuckled softly, rubbing his master's back.  "Yes,
master, years ago.  But you know, we used to sleep in
there.... when we weren't sleeping with you.... and after we
came back from our watch we thought we would just sleep on
blankets in there again, in case you needed us.  Hector is
on watch at the pier now."

"Yes, and we heard you cry out once," said Pan, rubbing
Appleby's knee and thigh, squeezing gently.  "Are you
alright, master?  How can we help?"

All the events of the day before, kept mercifully at an
arm's length by sleep, came tumbling back down onto Appleby.
Bundit and Marcus were gone, for all he knew lost, taken
into slavery, dead.... no, he mustn't think that.  He bowed
his head and covered his face with his hands.  Pan and
Bacchus scooted up closer to him, now wrapping him in their
arms, leaning into him.

"I... I am alright now, thank you," said Appleby.  "How kind
of you both... what would I do without you?"  He sniffed a
little and wiped the corner of an eye.

"Master," said Pan, "Athena told us.... she gets these
feelings, you know.  She's not always right, but she is more
often than not.  She thinks Marcus will come back to you...
to us, master."  Bacchus nodded his agreement and added,
"You have to have faith in that, master, there's nothing
else you can do."  The twins embraced him again.

Pan and Bacchus were always an uplift for tired spirits, and
they worked their magic now as well.  Appleby nodded,
feeling comforted.  He reached out to hug the twins, pulling
them in toward him as all three sat on the bed.  He was not
surprised to find that they were naked; hardly anybody slept
with anything on at Seaward, unless the weather turned cold.

"I love him so, much, Pan, Bacchus," said Appleby.  "If you
love somebody that much, a child, it seems as if you would
do whatever you had to do to keep him safe.  Should I have
known he would stow away again?  Should I have done more,
maybe have searched the boat?  Did I love him enough to keep
him here?"

The three sat in silence for a while.  Pan spoke:  "Maybe
some part of you did know he might try to leave again,
master.  Maybe you didn't look extra hard on the boat before
you sailed just because you loved him."

Appleby shook his head vigorously.  "How could I do that and
let him be in harm's way, if I really loved him?"

Bacchus spoke up now:  "Just love isn't enough, master.  You
have to have it, but people need freedom and air, too,
master.  Maybe Marcus was ready for that.  But master," he
said, "whether or not you loved Marcus enough to let him go
before he left, you can love him that much now."  Appleby
looked at him with a questioning expression.  "Wherever he
is, worrying about it can't bring him back.  You can give
him your blessing in your heart, and free him up, now
master.  You can free yourself, too."

Appleby mulled it over, and was still not sure he understood
or agreed.  But in some sense he felt better, he felt....
more ready to give Marcus over to the universe.  There was
no need for further words or analysis.  Tired but calmer, he
fell back against the pillows.  Pan and Bacchus followed him
down, stretching out alongside him.  Pan chuckled and said,
"Well, there's an old expression, master:  if you can't be
with the one you love, love the one you be with.  I love
you, master.... does that help?"  "Me, too," murmured
Bacchus, as he snuggled in close to Appleby.  Touched to his
heart, well aware of the love the twins had for him and the
love he felt for them, Appleby pulled both of them in toward
him.  "Yes, it helps.  It's what I need," he said.

Both twins snuggled in against him, their arms around his
chest and belly, his arms around their backs, Appleby could
feel the penises on both sides of him began to grow.  As
lovely as the rest of their lithe, caramel brown bodies,
their organs were long but not especially thick, with long
hoods like tulips--and now these tulips were pushing out
from the foreskin, the shafts growing against and over his
hip and thigh.  Pan nuzzled his head against the side of
Appleby's, flopping his explosion of springs and curls onto
Appleby's shoulder length locks, kissing the white man's
ear.  Bacchus lowered his head a little, his hair bouncing
over onto his master's face, nuzzling Appleby's neck and
naked shoulder, kissing the muscular rounds of his chest and
then his pink nipples, licking and nipping them with lips
and teeth.  Appleby heaved a deep sigh as his own organ rose
suddenly, fully engorged.  He kicked down the sheets,
uncovering all three at once.

If ever people "made love" rather than having sex, these
three did that now.  Kissing the full, out-turning trumpet
lips of first one caramel brown man and then the other,
Appleby pulled each one tightly into him, physical closeness
a sign of love, merging souls through light and dark skins.
The twins ran their caramel dark hands over and around
Appleby's chest and belly even as they began a light back
and forth movement of their hips, sliding their rigid
penises along the sides of Appleby's body.  The white man
reached down and grasped the dark shafts in his hands,
slowly pumping them both, as the twins groaned and sighed,
whispering his name, pushing in closer.

Breaking off for a moment, Bacchus reached over to the
bedside for lubricant.  Pulling his knees up, lying on his
back, he lubricated his anus as Appleby turned toward him.
Reaching over the white man, Pan scooped out some of the goo
and gently inserted it into Appleby's bottom, which was
turned toward him, then greased his own rigid shaft.
Bacchus slid his slick fingers up and down Appleby's rampant
cock, and then pulled the white man over on top of him as he
lay on his back.  Appleby quickly placed his penis against
Bacchus's loosened anus and slid it in easily; the black man
sighed and smiled, grasping Appleby's head in his hands,
raising his own head up off the bed to kiss him as he was
impaled on the rigid white cock.

Then Pan climbed around behind Appleby and put his own hard
dick against the white man's pink anus and pushed; it, too,
entered easily, naturally.  Pan lowered his weight onto
Appleby, who likewise melted down into Bacchus, still
kissing Bacch's trumpet lips.  Pan gently bit Appleby's
shoulder and neck.  The three lay in a tangle of arms and
legs, all three pushing and pulling their flesh together.

And then an extraordinary thing happened.  Physical
connections became links of heart and soul.  Skin melted
away, as it sometimes does, very rarely, when people couple
in this way.  The connection was so intense that the three
simply held that position, not bucking or pumping, just
tightly connected and nearly still.  Warm rectums held two
penises, while Bacchus's organ found safe harbor between his
and Appleby's muscular bellies.  All three lay there almost
still but breathing more and more heavily, passion mounting
from love and the transcendence of flesh rather than from
frantic motion.  More still and yet more passionate, tightly
connected but breathing harder and harder, for this long
moment each of the three left his own body and slid through
the skin into the others.

Then the tight connection of love took its last step toward
completion.  At first slowly and then very quickly with
hard, powerful motions, Appleby slammed his penis in and out
of Bacchus with masterful strokes.  He pulled his own butt
on and off of Pan's penis as he did so.  He slid his belly
up and down on Bacchus's rampant, leaking cock with his
motions.  And thus, in no more than ten or perhaps twelve
powerful swings of his hips, Appleby brought himself and
both Pan and Bacchus to orgasm at the same time.  Had they
not achieved a unity of body and spirit to that point, it
probably would not have happened in that way, but it did--
for perhaps the only and last time in their lives.  All
three exploded into joy and rapture at the same time,
weeping, crying out each others' names, pulling and
clutching at one another.  Lightning struck and electricity
flowed, and then the storm passed, it was over.  Pan fell of
to the far side of the bed as Appleby rolled off to the
middle, penises trailing strings of semen, a sheet of slimy
off-white on both Appleby's and Bacchus's torsos.  Once
again Appleby pulled the two black men back into him, and
they came in lovingly, caressing him and each other.  Peace
and release flowed over them, and they slept.

When they woke in the morning light, they were still tightly
bound together.  Appleby lay there enjoying the moment,
smelling the fresh, clean, coconut scent of the twins'
springy hair, feeling the warm closeness of their smooth
bodies.  All three began to stir and to rise, caressing and
kissing as they did so.  Appleby still felt sorrow, but he
knew he was beginning to heal.  Talking and laughing
lightly, the three made their way down to the bath room to
bathe, then back up to their bedrooms to dress for the day.

Walking out into the fresh morning air, Appleby went first
to Portia's cabin.  Finding it unoccupied, he followed the
path toward the new bath house, drawn by the sound of
splashing.  As he approached, Helen was ushering Frederick
and Douglass, freshly scrubbed and grinning, out the door.
Helen smiled brightly at Appleby and hugged him, holding him
tightly.

"It will be alright," she whispered into his ear, pressing
her smooth warm cheek against his.  Appleby looked deep into
her eyes to find the assurance that she felt.  He nodded
slowly, then asked, "Is Portia here?"

"Yes, bathing Wat," Helen said, then kissed Appleby on the
lips and, squeezing his arms once more, broke away to
shepherd the young twins away.  Entering the room, Appleby
found Portia was just pulling Wat out of the tub, wet and
glistening, stiff little golden brown penis wagging, his
black curly hair matted down by water.  Wordlessly, Appleby
and Portia embraced.  To his relief, he found that she
seemed to be reviving remarkably from disasters that were so
recent.

"I.... I believe Athena," she said, by way of answer to an
unspoken question.  "And, really, there is nothing we can do
now, not for Marcus.  But we can do something for ourselves,
and that is to do what we must do now and live for today."

"What will you today, then?" asked Appleby.

"I... I think I will weed the garden," she said with a smile
as she tugged a clean shirt over Wat's damp head.  Appleby
smiled and watched the rest of the process as Wat was pulled
and pushed into some semblance of order.  Then she took the
boy off, and he himself decided on a plan of action for the
day.

Finding Priam, Appleby made plans with him for reviewing the
island's defenses.  Together they walked the perimeter of
the island over the next several hours.  On the north, east,
and south, buoys marked real or imaginary reefs, shoals, and
boulders so as to either warn or repel intruders.  They
checked the condition of the large lifeboat on the eastern
side of the island, from the wreckage of Bundit's ship, and
determined that she was still seaworthy.  The boat had been
used from time to time over the last eleven years, and was a
good "last hope" in case both the Harmony and the Hesperus
should come to grief.  Walking around the west side of the
island, the two men inspected the stone armories that had
been built with such labor, finding them snug and dry,
packed to the roof with powder and shot for cannon,
carbines, and pistols.

Priam and Appleby found Apple standing watch on the pier, a
loaded pistol lying on the boards beside her.  The two men
spent considerable time considering the condition of the
three cannon on the western side of Seaward.  They were
camouflaged with branches and leaves that could be whisked
away at a moment's notice.  But that covering did little to
provide protection to the cannon or their crews in case of
attack.  After some consideration, it was decided that stone
walls could be built on the shore side of the trees among
which the cannon stood.  The trees would provide natural
upright support, stronger than sinking timbers in the
ground.  The walls need only be on one side of the cannon,
so it was a project that could be performed quickly with
great benefit to the plantation.

Priam and Apple returned to the barns to fetch a donkey cart
and some help, for both Priam and Appleby had a sense of
urgency about the project.  Appleby stared to the west, over
the short span of sea miles to the outer banks of South
Carolina, to the entrance to Charleston Harbor.  What was
happening out there?  What was happening across the nation?
He supposed that word had reached Washington of the attack
on Fort Sumter; had it fallen?  had it repelled the assault?
Appleby felt as if great events were transpiring not far
from him that would vitally affect his interests, but he
could not fathom what they were.  And he kept wondering
where Marcus was in all of that.  And Bundit... had he
gotten away in time?

As he felt the strain of worry creep over him once again, he
bent down to pick up a rock from the shore.  It was heavy,
perhaps forty pounds.  Hoisting it over his shoulder he
carried it up the embankment to where one of the cannon
stood behind its covering of leaves.  He dropped the stone
there and walked back to the shore where he found another
stone and did the same, bringing it up the bank.  Appleby
became completely caught up in the process of physical work,
of doing needful things in the moment.  Soon a pile of
stones began to grow, and the process of healing continued
apace, begun that morning and, indeed, the night before with
Athena's prophecy.  Pick up a stone, carry it, put it down,
repeat.  By the time Priam arrived with Cassius, Troy, and
Hector, stones had been layered high in one pile, while a
great stone had been removed from Appleby's heart.

Throughout the day the men worked, some moving stones from
the rockier northwest corner of the island, some bringing up
what stones there were on the shore, others gathering the
muddy clay from stream beds to use as mortar.  Pan and
Bacchus joined them, and the stone walls in front of the
cannon began to grow.  Cass and Juno brought down lunch,
which the men ate gratefully on the pier.  They rested for a
while in the shade of the line of trees on the embankment,
then Troy and Priam took the Hesperus out to see whether the
mail boat would be passing by during its usual period while
the rest of the crew went back to work.

Higher and thicker the stone wall grew, braced by
surrounding trees, and by late afternoon the wall protecting
one cannon was completed.  A rectangular gap in the middle
allowed the cannon to be moved left and right, while the
rest of the wall grew to about six feet high, tall enough to
work behind and to afford some protection from hostile fire.
The warm spring sunshine beamed down on the men as they
worked.  Shirts were removed, and backs of tanned white,
coffee and cream, caramel and dark fudge shone with sweat in
the sun.

Near the end of their labors they heard a ship's bell from
out on the water.  Peering into the westward leaning sun,
they could make out the mail boat that had indeed arrived,
heedless of war, as it plied its route up and down the
coast.  Troy and Priam were receiving the mail from it,
having put away the fishing poles they usually used while
waiting in the water between the island and the outer banks.
So much like every other day, even though everything had
changed.  Troy and Priam came back with letters and fish,
letters written far away in a time before war.  Standing by
the pier, shuffling absently through the letters, Appleby
felt again how healing the routines of daily life and work
could be.

Their work done and twilight coming on, the men all stripped
off their remaining clothes to bathe in the sea.  There was
splashing and horseplay, arms clasped around shoulders and
salt water sprayed from full heads of hair, glistening in
the dying light.  Hector leaped naked onto Troy's back while
Cassius mounted Appleby in the same way and as the "horses"
stood chest deep in water the "riders" playfully fought to
push each other over.  In the end, Pan rode Bacchus into the
fray and bowled both of the other pairs over into the sea.
Out onto the beach they came, long penises of dusky red,
brown, and purple black wagging, to gather up clothing for
the trek, naked, back to the dwellings.

"I will keep watch," Troy volunteered.  "Did Apple leave the
pistol?  Oh, yes, I see it."  The other men nodded, serious
expressions on their faces, then began to leave.  But
Appleby said, "Troy, I'll sit here with you a while.  Here,
there is enough food and drink left over from lunch, we can
share it for dinner."  Smiling, Troy agreed.  Hector
promised to come at one in the morning to relieve Troy on
the watch, and then the rest of the group returned to the
house.

Appleby and Troy sat companionably together at the end of
the pier, still naked, drying in the soft spring breeze of
twilight.  They nibbled on the remaining food, satisfying
themselves with the little pleasures and activities of life.
The first star or two sparked up in the sky.

"Troy," said Appleby.  "Let's take the Hesperus out, just
for a while.  Out to the eastern side of Seaward.  I think
we can leave the coast unguarded for just a little while."
Troy looked thoughtfully at Appleby, and nodded.  Bringing
along their clothes in case they needed to change for the
sake of a passing vessel, but remaining naked, they boarded
the Hesperus and cast off, using the soft breezes to round
the southern end of the island and, carefully steering clear
of the reefs and boulders on the eastern side, they slowly
sailed in the direction of deep waters.

Troy took the tiller as Appleby managed a single sail
forward.  The Hesperus rolled gently to the east as Seaward
slipped behind them, distance and darkness finally closing
over her.  It was too deep to anchor, but Appleby took in
the sail entirely and spread a soft blanket on the deck.
The boat bobbed in gentle seas under a slight breeze.

Appleby stretched out on his back on the blanket and Troy
lay down next to him.  Lying naked together on their backs,
they looked up at the brilliant stars that salted the black
sky.  Floating in time and water, the two men and the boat
remained like that for some long minutes.  Then Appleby
spoke.

"He's out there somewhere, Troy.  Bundit, too.  I guess we
couldn't keep him, so... so Marcus, wherever you are, go
with my blessing.  Come back to us."  His voice caught on
the last words.  Troy turned on his side toward Appleby,
lying very close now, and gently rubbed his master's belly
with his hand.

"You be free, too, Master Mark," Troy said.  "You aren't the
kind of person to chain someone... whether in slavery or in
love.  When you free people, you free yourself.  Marcus has
your love, all our love, and he has his freedom, too.  When
you give that up to him in your heart, you are free also."
Appleby nodded and smiled despite the tear that trickled
down his cheek.  He reached over and cupped the back of
Troy's head with his hand, enjoying the thick, nappy mat of
dense, kinky hair.  Troy's hand slid up from Appleby's
belly, over his chest, and around his neck to caress his
cheek.  "I love you very much, Master Mark," he said.

By answer, Appleby nodded and reached a hand around Troy's
back, pulling him over on top of him.  They lay like that,
kissing, stretched out over and under each other.  Pink lips
and dark plum lips pressed tightly together, tongues slid in
and out of mouths, ran along teeth.  Breathing became faster
as hands began sliding up and down sides, over backs.
Between them, a rigid red cock and a hard purple black cock
grew, mixing precum together.

Easily, naturally, Troy lifted up for a moment and with his
hand guided his penis down between Appleby's thighs.  The
white man closed his legs together, caressing the thick,
long organ.  He reached his hands around to grasp Troy's
high, tight butt that rolled up off of his strong back and
thighs, long hills of muscles rolling down his body under a
chocolate skin.  The black man was stretched out in perfect
symmetry on top of the white man, feet and toes sliding
against each other, calf and thigh pressed against calf and
thigh, belly and chest riding on Appleby's muscled torso.
Slowly Troy began moving his hips up and down, sliding his
rigid organ between his master's thighs.  On the downward
stroke his long, massive dick slid along the blanket under
Appleby's butt.  Appleby kept his hands on Troy's bottom,
feeling the flexing of the hard muscles with each cycle.
Troy's mouth grazed over the white man beneath him, kissing
his lips, his neck, biting his shoulder.  Faster Troy moved
and then gasped, "Look into my eyes!"

Wordlessly, with only a gasping groan, Troy's body spasmed
and clenched as his penis began shooting great wads of semen
down between Appleby's legs, onto the blanket and underneath
his butt.  Appleby kept a grip on the black man's butt as it
tightened, squeezing out his sperm.  But all the while, the
two men looked deeply into each other's eyes, seeing into
each other's souls.  Troy gasped once more, sighed,
whispered "Oh, master!" and slumped forward on top of
Appleby.  White hands now slid up and down a chocolate
colored back, caressing and comforting.

Troy slid off and lay on his own back, then pulled Appleby
on top of himself.  With Troy's semen on the lower part of
his butt, now leaking downward, Appleby followed the black
man's lead by sliding his own rampant organ down between the
chocolate thighs.  Their positions now exactly reversed,
Appleby held Troy's shoulders tightly with both hands while
his hips began pumping frantically.  Troy held the white
man's head tightly but lovingly, craning his neck up to kiss
his lips, running his fingers through the long light brown
hair.  Faster and more powerfully Appleby pistoned up and
down until he could feel release building in his loins.
"Now!" he whispered fiercely and slammed forward, bellowing,
but still looking into the depths of Troy's eyes.  His torso
clenched again and once more, and then it was his turn to
collapse onto the man beneath him.  Now spent, both men
whispered words of love to each other as the Hesperus bobbed
gently in the night.

How long they lay there, they could not have said.  Appleby
pushed up eventually, smiled at Troy, kissed him, then slid
over the side of the boat to clean himself in the healing
waters.  When he climbed back on board, Troy did the same,
diving down into the skin of the sea above the chasms below,
then back onto the boat.  Then shivering in the night air,
but preferring to be naked, they made the Hesperus ready to
return.  Canvas spread, it caught a breeze and headed west.
They had drifted, but it was not difficult to find Seaward
in the moonlight.

Sailing the boat was a two person job, and it kept them both
occupied until the Hesperus bumped up against the pier and
was secured.  Gathering up their clothes, spreading the
blanket out to dry, Troy and Appleby stepped onto the pier.
Appleby reached out to draw Troy to him, embracing once more
as they stood together.  "Thanks, Troy.  For everything, for
your words and your love and... and for you.  It will take
time, but I'm figuring out a way to live with it."  Troy
simply nodded and hugged him tightly in return.  He put his
clothing back on in preparation for his watch.  Appleby
walked naked, carrying his clothing soiled from the day's
work, back up to the dwellings.  He walked up the steps to
the verandah of the main house, still naked.  As he neared
the top, the door opened and Portia stepped out.

"Well!  Look at you!" she said softly, grinning hugely,
looking up and down Appleby's naked body.  Smiling back, and
unashamed--for everybody on Seaward had seen everybody else
naked at one time or another--Appleby embraced Portia.  They
held each other tightly for a while.  Then she pulled away
and sat on a rocker nearby, patting the rocker next to her.
"Like this?" asked Appleby, amused.  She nodded, smiling.
So he sat next to her in his nakedness, holding her hand as
they rocked side by side.

"I don't know why... it's only a little over a day since he
left, or is it two?  And I won't ever really 'get over'
this, but.... but I feel better.  I feel that I can let
Marcus go.  Maybe I need to let him go just so that he will
come back," said Portia.  "At any rate, Athena and Helen
have been 'working' on me all day, so I feel better.  And
you?" she asked.

"Better also, yes.  And you're right, we need to let him go,
with love.  I think Athena is right, he will come back.
Pan, Bacchus, and Troy have been 'working' on me as well!"

"So I see!" she said, laughing, looking meaningfully at his
nakedness.  He laughed in return; there was no reason to
deny it.  "Well, it has been a long day, time for rest," he
said, as he rose.  But Portia kept hold of his hand and
looked up at him as he stood, at the man with whom she had
made the child who now wandered out in the night somewhere.

"Would you like to spend the night with me, master?" she
asked.  "You won't need to go upstairs for clothes," she
added, with a smile.

"Yes," said Appleby, "I would like that very much."  And the
two walked off hand in hand to her cabin.