Date: Tue, 23 Apr 2019 03:12:48 +0000 (UTC) From: "chrisdebus2011@yahoo.com" Subject "Master of River's Bend, Chapter 27 Master of River's Bend Chapter 27 "The Water-wheel" Posted by Jean-Christophe: April, 2019 This is a story of erotic slave fiction with the emphasis on male on male sex. If you are under the legal age or should the subject matter offend you, then read no further. This story is the product of the writer's imagination and not based on any actual persons or events. Please respect the integrity of the writer's work and don't do any rewrites, make alterations or add another person's artwork without permission. Nifty needs your financial support to continue posting these stories for your enjoyment. Please consider making a donation to http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html Chapter 27: Ramses trails behind Edward and Yancy to where the water-wheels are positioned at the river's edge. Ramses hears the loud creaking and groaning of timber as the rotating wheels lift water from the river in their metal buckets and the slosh-sloshing of the water as it empties into the water-channels to begin its sluggish journey to distant fields. He also hears the squeaking and squealing of the heavy, metal mechanism of the capstans protesting against the straining slave muscle power used to keep them rotating. As the slaves struggle to keep the capstans turning, the stress placed on their lean, sweat-soaked bodies is obvious; their muscles are stretched to their limits and their sinews almost to breaking point by the inhuman demands made of them. Ramses hears their ragged breathing as they struggle to fill their lungs with life-sustaining oxygen and he flinches at the sound of the raw, leather whips flailing their unprotected shoulders and backs amid the loud curses of the black overseers exhorting them to even greater effort. He gazes in horror at the slaves' naked, unwashed bodies darkened by a relentless sun, the long, snaky strands of their matted hair and filthy beards and the rivulets of sweat coursing down their torsos and dripping onto the stones beneath their bare, plodding feet. But most of all, his nose wrinkles in disgust at the overpowering stench emanating from them. Surely, in the presence of so much water - after all, the river is just mere yards away - it would be a simple matter to allow the slaves to clean themselves? But the time used in allowing the slaves to do so would be time wasted and can be put to better use in keeping them toiling. Ramses realises with horror this is where he is to serve but he has no idea of the duration of the time he'll spend toiling on the water-wheel. He is overcome with fear. Boss Edward calls a halt to one of the capstans. He points to a slave and tells the capstan's overseer to release him from his chains and put him to work with one of the mud-clearing gangs working in an irrigation channel. As the capstan grinds to a halt, the other eleven slaves enjoy a brief respite from their labours even if it is to last just a minute or two while one of their number is replaced. This break in their labours gives their trembling limbs and quivering muscles a chance to partially "settle" and for them to replenish the air in their bursting lungs. And most use this welcome break to empty their bladders as it is easier to urinate when standing still rather than when the wheel is in motion. The capstan is large and requires twelve slaves to keep it turning. There are four long cross beams or spokes - each at an angle of forty-five degrees from one another - and three slaves are chained to each arm. The area surrounding the capstan is paved with field-stones now worn smooth by the constant friction of the slaves' naked feet and is open to the elements. For the hapless slaves here isn't any awning to shade them against the sun's intensity or provide shelter against the winter winds or rain. They can only look with envy at the wide-brimmed hats worn by their overseers who also take regular breaks for food and water under the shade of an adjacent thatch-roofed shelter. As the slave is quickly unchained from the outer end of his spoke, no time is wasted in replacing him with Ramses. As Ramses is placed in position, thick iron manacles are locked around his wrists fastening him securely to the heavy timber beam. Ramses is in a dazed state and not fully comprehending what is happening to him. He is vaguely aware of movement behind him as he feels his feet being pushed apart and a heavy iron chain being fastened around his ankles. He is now an integral part of the capstan shackled in place with no other option but to bend his back and push with all his strength. Like an ox yoked to a plow, he is now merely a labouring beast-of-burden! Next, the capstan's overseer pinches Ramses' nose forcing him to open his mouth. "Open your mouth, slave," the overseer demands as he places a pebble on Ramses' tongue, "and suck on this as you work!" Puzzled, Yancy asks Edward about the pebble. "Edward, why did the overseer put the pebble in Ramses' mouth? What does it do?" "Yancy, as you'd appreciate keeping the capstan turning at the required speed is hard work for the slaves. They sweat a lot and it is necessary to periodically stop the wheel and water the slaves which of course is valuable time wasted. Also, once the wheel is stopped, it takes quite a while to build up the momentum once more and the slaves need to be driven hard." "I see, Edward. What you say makes sense. But I'm curious; how does the pebble in the slave's mouth help?" "It's a theory Charles ascribes to, Yancy. As they sweat, the slaves' mouths become dry and their throats parched. Charles believes making the slaves suck on those pebbles causes them to make saliva which keeps their mouths moist and lessens their need for water. Normally, without sucking on the pebbles, the slaves would need to be watered every two hours. With the pebbles, they need only to be watered every four hours which saves valuable time." "And it works, Edward?" "It seems to, Yancy! However, I'm no expert on these things and anyway, Charles is so much more knowledgeable on these matters. He believes it works and Charles, as you will learn, is very smart. One has only to look at River's Bend to see his progressive ideas do work. Just look at his ideas on irrigation. It has made River's Bend the best organised, the best managed and the highest producing plantation on this stretch of the river. Of course, he doesn't get the credit for it. The other plantation owners hereabouts - most of who are consumed with envy - believe Ptolemy or Beauregard St John is the true master of River's Bend and give him the credit for the plantation's success. But we know differently, don't we, Yancy?" "Yes, Edward, that's true. And you are right! River's Bend is far better than any white owned plantation back home." "Yancy, Robert Trevannion's was never your home." Edward chides Yancy, not unkindly. "There you were a slave and his property. River's Bend is now your home and here you are free and a master. I know Charles wants you to think of this as your home from now on." "I'm sorry, Edward. Just force of habit, I guess. I was still thinking as a slave. I am finding it hard to think of myself as being a free man." "I understand, Yancy. It will take time but eventually you'll get used to your freedom. Give it time and be patient. Anyway, Charles and I will be there to help you. And speaking of Charles; I think I hear him approaching." Yancy hears the distant drumming of hoof-beats and as they grow louder and nearer, he watches as the distorted figure of a man on horseback, emerges from the shimmering heat-haze. And as Edward said, it is indeed Charles, the true Master of River's Bend Plantation. Charles dismounts and walks to where Edward and Yancy are standing. "Good morning, Edward. And hello once again, young Yancy." He greets them jovially. "Good morning, Charles." Edward replies. "You're in a good humour this morning." "And why wouldn't I be, Edward. I just spent the night fucking my newest property acquisition and the fact that he is - I should correct that - he was Robert Trevannion's git and a St Jean descendent made it even more satisfying." "You're speaking of Ramses, obviously." Edward states. "What's he like for fucking, Charles?" "As you would expect, Edward. His ass was virgin tight and so he lacked experience. I took pity on him last night and rode him easy as one would when mounting an unbroken colt for the first time. However, I fucked him again this morning for a second time and I rode him much harder. You know me Edward, I like to hard fuck a white slave to show him his place and I think he found this less to his liking. He bucked and squealed and pleaded for mercy as I rode him relentlessly. "Good for you, Charles!" Edward answers enthusiastically. "I hope you will allow me to sample his ass at some time." "And so, you shall, Edward as will young Yancy! But not just yet. We need to break his spirit first so that he will fully submit to being fucked as a slave. Anyway, I am afraid I was a bit rough with Ramses and, as a result, his asshole is swollen and tender. Perhaps, you can have the vet prepare a salve which will take away the puffiness?" "Yancy mentioned this to me earlier, Charles," Edward can barely conceal his disappointment that he won't be using Ramses anytime soon, "and I have sent word to the vet-slave to prepare an ointment to use on Ramses." "Excellent, Edward! I see you have Ramses chained to a capstan. Can I ask why?" "Certainly, Charles. As you are to give Ramses to Yancy at some stage, we talked about Yancy's plans for the slave. As yet, Yancy is unsure about Ramses' future role as his slave. As you'd appreciate there are several options open to Yancy and he is still considering them; one of which is that Ramses will become his pony-slave much like Chico. The one thing Yancy desires most of all is that Ramses learns what it is to be truly a slave. For now, he wants Ramses to be put to hard labour to build up his physique and stamina and toiling on a water-wheel will certainly do that." "Well, as he is to be Yancy's slave, the choice is Yancy's to make." Charles' answer is hesitant. "It's Yancy's call. But I do have some reservations. Ramses is not to be permanently damaged by an over-zealous overseer's whip - I don't want his back to be whip-scarred - or is he to be sexually abused by the overseers or raped by his fellow slaves. His ass is inviolate and out of bounds to everyone other than you, Yancy and me. You'll need to ensure these conditions are met. Where is he to sleep, by the way?" "For practical reasons, I thought he'd sleep with his team in the slave stables, if you agree, Charles" Edward replies." However, I could arrange for him to be locked in a security cage overnight where he can't be molested." "I think that would be for the best, Edward. I have no objection to him being worked hard but let's not forget he is a valuable slave and I don't want him damaged in a way that would lessen his value. And the whip is to be used lightly on him too." "As you wish, Charles." Edward's answer barely hides his disappointment as he'd looked forward to apply his whip to Ramses as retribution for the whippings he'd suffered as a young slave years ago because of a teenaged Robert Trevannion's lies and scheming. But Charles is the real master of River's Bend plantation and his rulings are the absolute law for both slaves and overseers. "I'll instruct the overseers to use the whip lightly and sparingly on Ramses so as not to cause him any permanent damage to his hide. Because Ramses is new to slavery, he is yet to feel the pain of a real whip. It's true, he'd already tasted the cane and the light driver's whip - as recently as this morning when running alongside of Chico - but the pain from these is as nothing when compared to an overseer's leather bull-whip; the pain caused by a driver's whip or a cane can be likened to a wasp's sting whereas that of a heavy bull-whip is more like the bite of a viper. A real whip, even one lightly applied, has the capacity to inflict agonising pain on naked slave-flesh. From his place at the capstan, a trembling Ramses is vaguely aware of the conversation taking place about him. Yet, he is too traumatised to fully understand what is being said. Horrified, his mind is focused on the two, wretched slaves chained alongside him and to the three on the capstan's spoke immediately in front of him. Just a few feet separate him from them and if his hands were free, he could reach out and touch them; not that he'd want to! With the long strands of their matted hair and filthy, straggly beards the slaves are barely recognisable as men; they have become almost bestial in appearance. Their lean, naked bodies, darkened by full exposure to the sun and the elements, are indescribably filthy and the foul stench emanating from them causes Ramses' nose to wrinkle in disgust. Their muscles are overdeveloped from the ceaseless grind of turning the capstan and their backs are lacerated by the impatient whips of the slave-drivers. Swarms of insects hover over them greedily feasting on the sweat and filth of their unwashed bodies thus adding to their torment. The unfortunate wretches, unable to use their shackled hands, vigorously shake their bodies in a vain effort to dislodge the pests and to seek relief from their stings and bites; however, such relief is temporary. Briefly disturbed, the insects hover over them for a few moments before resettling to feast on their unwilling hosts with renewed vigour. Knowing their respite is brief and that soon they'll be whipped back into action, the slaves use this welcome opportunity to attend to their "calls of nature" like the mindless beasts-of-burden they have become. As the contents of their bladders noisily splatter onto the stones beneath their calloused feet, they feel no humiliation; for shame plays no part in a slave's life. To his dismay, it finally dawns on Ramses that soon, he will be as they are - just another beast-of-burden mindlessly plodding in an endless circle of pain and torment to keep the water-wheel turning and the water flowing. With Ramses now securely chained into place, there's no more time is to be wasted. It's time to set the slaves to work once more and get the water-wheel turning. With a nod from Edward, the overseer applies his whip to the backs of the three slaves nearest to him. "WALK ON!" He roars. "PUSH YOU LAZY BASTARDS!" His exhortation is met with cries of pain as he indiscriminately plies his whip to the backs of the slaves manning the capstan. As one, they strain forward and the capstan squeals in protest as the metal cogs grind and intermesh with one another. Slowly, the wheel rotates; its timbers groaning loudly as its heavy, metal buckets lift water from the river. As the wheel builds up momentum, Ramses has no other option but to push as one with his fellow slaves. Soon, he feels the bite of the overseer's whip lightly applied so as not to cause him permanent injury or to damage his body and he cries out in pain. "Oh God!" Once more the lash falls across his back and he cries out to Charles. "Massa! Please, oh Massa, have pity, please Massa!" His pleas fall of deaf ears. Charles, Edward and Yancy are indifferent to his distress and dispassionately watch his suffering. Encouraged by their silence, the overseer continues to whip Ramses into action. "BEND YOUR BACK, SLAVE!" He shouts. "Put some muscle into your work, boy!" Ramses' harrowing odyssey on the water-wheel has begun! How long must he endure it? To be continued............