Date: Wed, 30 Jun 2004 11:00:06 -0700 (PDT)
From: Lance Kyle <lokiaga@prodigy.net>
Subject: Seaward Plantation chapter fifteen

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 have begun
appearing.  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

Chapter fifteen

"Aye, aye, general!"

"[Sigh] Yes Hector, as you were."

For the tenth time that day, Mark Appleby grinned ruefully
and returned a salute.  He hoped fervently that the good
people of Seaward would give it up soon.  Ever since the
night before, when he announced that he was a lieutenant in
the South Carolina Militia and had been appointed commander
of the island, he had been a source of ongoing amusement to
his friends.  Every salute came with a snicker and a smile--
he could only hope the joke would run its course!

Today, as much of the group worked on the construction of
extra lofts in the storage barn under the direction of
Cassius, they discussed Appleby's upcoming weekend, a month
or more distant, of field exercises on the peninsula above
Charleston. Officers were invited to bring servants; indeed,
it seemed as if it was an expectation, and the last thing
Appleby wanted to do was to appear to be different (even
though he was).  But who to send, and who was willing to go?
The blacks of Seaward were so different from those of the
mainland--their speech gave them away if nothing else.
Those who ventured to the mainland had to monitor their
behavior constantly so as not to arouse any suspicion that
they were not the craven slaves that the system of bondage
so prized.  And Seaward was such a haven, such a place to be
free and unconstrained, that many of the people of the
island feared going ashore, with good reason.

In the end it was decided that Bundit, the new Siamese
arrival, would accompany Appleby.  His Asian appearance
would set him apart, which was against his going.  But on
the other hand, it was widely known that he was there, as
Appleby had reported the wreck of his ship on the rocks east
of the island.  Thus, it would not come as a surprise to
people in town to see him about, or accompanying Appleby.
Bundit could go in the role of a "servant," but not a slave.
Having never been in bondage, he was less likely to be
snared by any legal tricks while on the mainland, and his
race would protect him somewhat from being kidnapped and
sold into slavery--as sometimes happened to free blacks.

Officers were expected to bring their own tents and field
equipment.  An order was placed for such gear and taken into
Charleston the next time the Hesperus made a trip.  Troy
brought back a spacious, two room tent with bedding and
simple collapsible furniture.  Bundit practiced setting the
tent up and taking it down, and the younger people--Hector,
Pan, Bacchus, and Helen--enjoyed the new experience of
"camping out" in it, insisting on spending one night beneath
the canvas roof out on the lawn of Seaward house.  What they
did in there at night is a matter left to speculation.

With arrangements made for the field exercise, the matter
was set aside and everyone's attention focused on the many
projects underway:  building, tending to crops and
livestock, practice sailing the Harmony, and when it
thundered practice with the Harmony's cannon and with
firearms.  The community began experimenting with some
fishing nets brought from Charleston by Appleby soon after
he arrived, and with some practice found that they could
bring in enough fish to feed everyone with ease.  Buoys were
also anchored on the dangerous reefs and rocks that lined
the approaches to the island from the east.  Weeks rolled
around and the time for the field exercise was at hand.

The Hesperus sailed past Charleston, farther up the
peninsula, to dock at a rough pier that had been constructed
at a staging ground carved out of swamp and forest.  Quite a
large group of bearded patriarchs, young men, and boys
milled around, black and white.  Bundit's appearance drew
stares and whispered conversations from the start, but
Appleby made a point of referring to him as "my servant,
recently cast ashore on Seaward from the wreck of the
Duchess of Kent," and as that explanation circulated
Bundit's presence was accepted.  The South Carolinians
seemed to take it as natural that anybody who was not white
would, upon washing up on the shore of a white man,
instantly become his servant, so it all seemed perfectly
reasonable to them.  Nevertheless, throughout the weekend
the younger white men and boys, and all of the black slaves,
found excuses to brush their hands against his hair, to
touch his skin, and to look closely at the folds of skin
that shaped his eyes.  Accustomed to being a stranger in a
strange land, Bundit took it all in stride.

Upon first landing, however, Appleby and Bundit confronted a
scene of organized chaos.  They found a horse-drawn cart
with room in it and stowed their gear there; Appleby had to
be careful to let Bundit do most of the work so as not to
maintain the master-servant ruse.  There appeared to be
about five hundred men and boys present, with perhaps a
hundred more servants and attendants.  All wore rough
clothing, as no uniform had yet been devised, but officers
were given insignia to affix to their hats and shoulders as
indications of their rank, and it appeared as if there were
no more than thirty of that class.

Appleby was pleased to see the Robert and Carter Ashley in
the group, whom he greeted warmly.  The passage of time and
Appleby's attentions to Robert seemed to have made the boy
forgive the man for having allowed himself to be fucked by
Aaron, for Appleby noted with pleasure that the leopard-
faced slave boy was attending his young master.  An adult
slave whom Appleby did not recognize followed Carter Ashley
around.  Unobserved, Appleby flashed a surreptitious smile
and a wink at Aaron, bowing slightly.  Aaron ducked his head
quickly to hide a huge smile that broke out involuntarily at
receiving that attention, and he continued to flick glances
at Appleby whenever he could.

Colonel Gillam mounted a wagon with a voice trumpet, or
megaphone, and began organizing the milling crowd.  Ordinary
soldiers, most of them small farmers, wage earners in
Charleston, or hired hands--few or none of them  large land
or slave owners--began to fall into ranks, heavy packs on
their backs, muskets in hand.  The Colonel assigned Appleby
to assist Carter Ashley in his command, much to the delight
of both.  Appleby hung back to observe, helping Carter when
he could but taking mental notes as to military procedures
and protocol the whole time.  Ashley appeared to have a
small troop of about twenty men at his command.  As they
assembled, Appleby walked among their ranks, shaking hands
and introducing himself.

Some of these militiamen seemed no older than boys.  Shaking
the hand of one soldier, Appleby inquired as to his age.

"Eighteen, sir," came the reply, and then a proud grin:
"Jes' last week!"  Appleby nodded, but in truth the youth
looked no older than sixteen, if that.  His rough clothing
hung on a rail-thin, wiry frame about five and a half feet
tall.  His hair was brown, clean but shaggy and had
evidently been cut the last time by placing a bowl over his
head and shearing away the hair that escaped below.

"Well, soldier, I am Mark Appleby."

"Silas, sir, Silas Hornsby."  Appleby smiled into the thin,
tanned face of the youth.  He had good, honest features, not
homely but not strikingly handsome, with earnest brown eyes
and a turned up nose.  But--did Silas grasp his hand to
shake for a trifle longer than necessary?  Attuned to such
matters now, did Appleby sense something different in the
frank appraisal that each made of the other?  Appleby
reminded himself that he must not rush to conclusions, and
that expectations and practices ashore would be very
different from what he enjoyed at Seaward.  At that moment
their grip was broken by a bugle signal and the calling out
of orders to march.

Appleby was grateful that the fall was approaching, for
otherwise the heat and humidity would have made the trek
unbearable.  The group marched along a rough thoroughfare
just wide enough to let the carts pass.  Carter Ashley led
the twenty men assigned to him, while Appleby marched on one
side and Robert on the other.  Two hours of steady tramping
brought the group to a wide field or pasture surrounded by
woods.  A stream ran through the trees to one side of the
clearing and another meandered through the field itself.
The area had evidently been used before, for a rough roof on
timber uprights constituted a large field kitchen, while two
or three rickety wooden outhouses were distributed around
the perimeter of the field for those who did not care simply
to relieve themselves in the woods.  There followed another
hour of setting up camp, the tents and carts being arrayed
in about one third of the field, leaving the rest for the
weekend's exercises.  The ordinary soldiers pitched pup
tents which they occupied alone or with one companion.
Appleby's tent was pitched next to Carter's and Robert's
tent, which was somewhat larger.  The servants helped each
other to hoist the canvas dwellings over wooden poles, and
in time a small city grew on the field.

The group was given a quick lunch of bread and cheese, and
then called to assemble on the field.  Orders for the
weekend were reviewed as each company sat together in their
appointed places.  That afternoon there were field drills,
marching in formation, and the like.  Troops practiced
correct responses to bugle calls, and as the afternoon
progressed some semblance of military order began forming in
these amateur soldiers.  Appleby observed everything
carefully, assisting when requested to, memorizing the
drills and orders.  Throughout the afternoon, he imagined
that he caught the eye of young Silas Hornsby gazing at him
from beneath the lowered brim of a hat.

The approach of evening signaled an end to the exercises.
Men and officers alike washed up in the streams, some
leaping in naked to bathe, and the smell of good cooked food
began rising from the field kitchen.  Appleby found that
Bundit had prepared the tent comfortably, one pallet
prepared in each room for appearances' sake, regardless of
the reality of who slept where.  "How has it been for you
today?" Appleby asked.

"Alright, Master Mark.  I draw a lot of attention, but I am
used to it," replied Bundit, a sweet smile crinkling up his
features.  "I.... I met Aaron, Master Robert's servant," he
continued, a smile remaining on his face.  "He is very
nice," he said, pointedly.

"Yes," said Appleby, looking directly at Bundit, an unspoken
understanding passing between them, "He is.  And so is
Master Robert."  Bundit's eyebrows flew up in surprise, but
he merely nodded, accepting this information.

The whites gathered for dinner in the field kitchen; their
servants picked up their food there and carried it away to
eat in the woods or back in the tents.  Dinner over, the
company broke up into smaller groups, folding chairs being
set up or blankets spread around campfires.  Some men had
brought musical instruments, which were now produced.  A few
of the blacks were called forth to sing or dance, which made
Appleby uncomfortable.  He felt a pang of homesickness for
Seaward, where people sang and danced but from joy, not
command.  Smells of wood and tobacco smoke drifted through
the air.

A plaintive bugle call signaled the end of the day.  Men
gathered up their belongings and made for their tents.
Appleby arranged it so that he and Robert were walking back
to their tents together, Carter some feet in front of them
and engrossed in conversation with a friend.

"Well, Robert... what are your plans for the evening?" asked
Appleby, ironically.  A blush spread over the freckled face
of the boy, who ducked his head, then looked back up at the
older man.  "Your slave, sir.... the Chinaman...."

"Not my slave, Robert, my servant.  He is a castaway, and
serves me for wages," replied Appleby.  Robert looked
thoughtful at the answer, seeming to calculate something
behind his ice blue eyes.  "He will be in my tent, no doubt,
but.... I think you would enjoy meeting him, sir," said
Appleby.  "Perhaps a new experience for you?  And he and I
would enjoy meeting Aaron again, too."  Robert looked away,
appearing to think hard about the matter, weighing
reservations against desire.  Finally, he nodded decisively,
flashed a smile at Appleby, mouthed "later" to him, and
moved next to his father as they came to their tents.
Carter bade Appleby a good evening, vowing to sleep soundly
after the day's efforts, and each went into their own tents.

Bundit had a good supply of soap, water, and towels ready
for Appleby, who gratefully washed up before bed.  Bundit
himself had bathed earlier, having plunged naked into the
stream, the sight of his persimmon body a spectacle for all
who beheld it--quite a welcome spectacle for some who kept
that feeling hidden within themselves.  Stripped to his
undergarments, Appleby washed himself.  As his master
finished, Bundit stepped up lightly to embrace him.  Appleby
returned the hug affectionately, his groin stirring, but
whispered into Bundit's ear, "Let us wait; we may have
visitors.  Visitors you will welcome, I think."  Bundit
looked mystified but pleased, and controlled his passion for
the moment.

Quiet settled over the camp.  The sound of night birds and
insects rose in the air.  Appleby and Bundit lay together on
the same bed, wearing only undergarments, holding hands
lightly, playing with one another's fingers, and waiting.
An oil lamp was trimmed as low as it would go, a faint light
welling up in the tent.  From the direction of the Ashley
tent came the slightest sound of movement--a light flapping
of canvas--a rustling sound in the grass--then the lightest
scratching sound at the door of the tent.  Bundit leaped up
to answer it but Appleby raised his hand and stepped in
front of him.  He peered out, then stepped back and ushered
two figures into the tent:  Robert and Aaron.  Appleby
smiled a welcome at both, squeezing the shoulder of Aaron
who followed his master in.

There was bound to be some awkwardness:  everyone knew where
this little gathering was headed, but only Appleby was
familiar, in more senses than one, with everyone there.  He
kept his hand on Aaron's shoulder and in fact moved the boy
right in front of him.  As Bundit and Robert watched, he
slid his arms around Aaron in the front, hugging the boy
back toward himself, burying his face in the slave's
straight, black hair.  His hands lightly rubbed the boy's
chest and belly through the rough cloth of his shirt.
Robert watched all this slack jawed, casting sideways
glances at Bundit, but he was too shy in these unaccustomed
circumstances to initiate anything and too proud to ask.

Sensing Robert's awkwardness and his need to command, to be
served, Bundit broke the logjam.  He took a step and
gracefully dropped to his knees before the white youth and
began unbuckling his belt and trousers.  Robert gasped,
looked quickly from Bundit to Appleby to Aaron and back,
then tentatively touched Bundit's bushy black waves of hair
with his hands.  The white youth's trousers dropped, then
his undergarments.  Going for the bold stroke first, Bundit
gently seized Robert's bobbing pink penis and took it
entirely into his mouth, smiling up at the youth as he did
so.  Robert gasped and threw his golden head back, then
looked back down at the Asian youth on his knees before him.
One hand remained enmeshed in Bundit's hair, the other hand
came around to lightly stroke his face, to trace the lines
of the folds that shaped his eyes.  They held that position
for a moment, Bundit lightly moving his head back and forth.
Then Robert wriggled out of his shirt and stepped back,
kicking his pants and shoes to the side.  Bundit rose, a
silver thread of precum on his chin, and dropped his
undergarment.  Seizing the moment, Appleby pulled Aaron's
shirt up over his head and off, while the black slave boy
undid his own pants and dropped them and loincloth to the
ground over his bare feet, shoving them aside.  The last to
go was Appleby's undergarment.  All four stared at one
another in the dim lamplight for a moment, Appleby partially
hidden behind the black boy whose naked chest and belly he
now fondled.

Again it was Bundit who set developments in motion.  He
approached Robert and gently grasped the boy's rigid, pink
penis, slowly manipulating it with his fist.  With his other
hand he rubbed the side of Robert's hip, but kept his own
eyes downcast.  On Robert's beautiful face, now blushing
rosy with sexual excitement, a parade of emotions were
visible.  Strong desire was chief among them--then wariness
and reserve at the offer of intimacy initiated by a person
whose skin was of a different color--then a surrender to his
natural urges.  As Bundit had correctly surmised, it helped
that the twenty year old Asian looked to be as young as the
fourteen year old white boy.

Appleby and Aaron--Robert and Bundit--the two couples
watched each other even as they engaged their partners.
Appleby, standing behind Aaron, rubbed the black slave boy's
chest and belly, tweaking his nipples.  The boy craned his
head around to receive Appleby's kisses as the white man
pulled himself into the slave, pressing his rigid dick into
the narrow divide between the boy's firm, rounded buttocks.
Aaron reached his hands up to entwine his fingers in
Appleby's shoulder length hair as Appleby reached forward to
fondle the boy's balls and short but thick penis, slowly
manipulating it, thumbing the head which was slick with
precum.  But they kept their gaze three feet away, where---

Robert and Bundit toyed with each other's rigid dicks,
slowly jacking them, rubbing fingers over the flared hoods
of each penis.  An Asian rosebud pair of lips met the white
boy's bee-stung lips, while arms moved to grasp slim
muscular shoulders.  Rampant cocks batted each other between
their slim abdomens as they pushed and squirmed against each
other, feet dug into the ground, grinding and pushing their
groins against each other--and keeping their surveillance of
Appleby and Aaron, where--

The white man, unable to delay his conquest of the boy any
longer, pushed him to his hands and knees.  He quickly
retrieved some lubricant he had brought along just for the
purpose and slicked up his own rampant, red penis.  Then he
inserted one, and two, and finally three fingers into the
black boy's anus, cries and gasps coming with each new
invasion, greasing and oiling the entry to his love hole,
both of them looking three feet away, where--

Bundit sank to the ground, pulling Robert with him.  The two
rolled around, now this one on top and now that one, humping
furiously, grinding groins together.  Bundit, now on top,
likewise reached for the lubricant and raised Robert's legs.
There was a moment of resistance; Robert's old, inbred
distaste rising up.  But Bundit was not black, not a
slave.... and he was beautiful.  Robert's lovely features
twisted for a moment as the two held a pose--then the blonde
boy drew his own legs up, turned his head to the side and
shut his eyes.  Bundit inserted lubricated fingers into the
white boy's anus, making small circles.  Robert gasped and
looked directly at Bundit; he raised his hands toward the
Asian youth's chest, just as Bundit quickly put his dickhead
to the boy's pink anus and pushed.  It happened too quickly
then for Robert to prevent.  Bundit was fully inside the
boy, arched out over him, Robert's legs pulled up alongside
the Siamese youth's flanks.  Robert's palms flattened
against the hairless, gold-and-tan chest of the Asian, both
pushing and supporting, both accepting and repelling.
Bundit began pumping in and out, his hairless ballsack
swaying back and forth and slapping against the white boy's
bottom.  Robert began writhing and moaning in ecstasy and
discomfort equally balanced.  Both looked to the side, to
see--

Appleby placing his rigid red penis at the wrinkled black-
red anus of the boy on his hands and knees in front of him.
They were positioned perpendicular to Robert and Bundit.
Appleby pushed his rigid shaft inside in one smooth motion,
Aaron gasping and writhing but accepting the intrusion.
Appleby began moving in and out, back and forth, increasing
speed, slamming his groin with a smacking sound into Aaron
while both looked straight ahead to see--

Bundit begin pumping wildly into Robert's ass.  The white
boy now grasped the Asian's muscular shoulders, squeezed,
held on as his persimmon body pistoned in and out, in and
out.  Suddenly Bundit slammed forward, strangling a cry to
avoid attracting notice outside, rasping breath and
whispered, frantic words in a foreign language escaping his
lips and clenched teeth, squeezing his hips to push all his
semen into the white boy, even as--

Appleby bucked three times, hard, then pushed Aaron flat to
the ground as his orgasm overcame them both, stretching out
over the flattened slave boy and grinding his groin down
into the waiting bottom below him, hissing and groaning
softly, squeezing, then shuddering, then collapsing on top
of the twelve year old beneath him.

The chirping of the crickets filled the quiet air as Appleby
and Bundit struggled for breath.  As soon as they could,
Bundit rolled off of Robert and Appleby off of Aaron.  Aaron
rolled over onto his back, and Robert instantly swung over,
squatting on knees and toes above Aaron's shoulders and
forcibly inserting his rigid penis into the black boy's
mouth.  Robert slammed his hips back and forth violently,
his hands making fists which flailed uncontrollably in the
air, his head shaking side to side, face-fucking his black
slave.  Aaron hardly noticed his master's frenzy, however,
for Appleby had rolled over and taken the twelve year old
slave's rigid penis in his mouth after brushing off the
particles of grass that stuck to it.  Enveloping the rigid,
purple black, thick organ in his mouth, Appleby bobbed up
and down quickly, maintaining a suction on the stiff, thick
penis.  Aaron's hips began jacking up and down in time to
the rhythm of Robert's face-fucking.  Both came at the same
time, Robert's breath seething and ragged, slamming forward
into the slave boy, while Aaron's groin pushed up and into
Appleby's mouth, holding it there while his penis shot its
small load of cum into the white man.  Each held his dick
against the face of his lover for a moment, then collapsed,
breathing heavily, Robert rolling off of the slave boy to
lie on the ground beside Bundit.  Appleby rolled to Aaron's
other side and all four lay there, exhausted, recovering
breath.

No sounds came from outside beyond those of nature.  They
had not been discovered.  After a few moments Robert heaved
a heavy sigh and rose, dressing.  Aaron followed his
master's example, while Bundit and Appleby stood to help
their guests.  Light kisses, hugs, pats, squeezes were
exchanged all around.  Robert peeked out the tent flap, then
slipped out.  Aaron flashed a brilliant smile back at
Appleby, then followed his master.  Exhausted, Appleby and
Bundit piled back together onto the single pallet and
slipped into a heavy sleep.

The bugle call came much too soon in the morning, a brass
rooster to rouse the troops.  Appleby shaved and washed at
the basin, then clothed himself and slipped out of the tent
into the dewy morning.  Condensation was everywhere, a heavy
damp smell of late summer morning pervading the camp.  The
smell of wood smoke and cooking odors wafted around the
field from the kitchen.  In small groups or singly, men and
officers drifted over for a simple breakfast, clutching
metalware mugs of boiled coffee to ward off the morning
chill.

That morning brought practice with muskets:  drills for
loading with precise coordination so that a company could
maintain a more or less constant barrage of lead balls
raining down on an enemy--target practice with painted
bulls'-eyes on wooden planks--care and cleaning of the
weapons so that the corrosive powder residue would not eat
away at the metal.  The sun rose and began beating down on
the men as volley after volley was fired and dense clouds
from the exploding black powder rolled across the field.
Appleby again assisted Carter Ashley, as did Robert; the two
exchanged friendly, meaningful glances often throughout the
morning, unobserved by others--or so they thought, at any
rate.

Toward noontime, a halt was called in the practice, weapons
were cleaned, and men were released to wash up and prepare
for lunch.  Everyone was grimy with soot from the firing,
and most men gathered at the streams that ran near and
through the field, sharing chunks of soap as they scrubbed
away the grime.  Kneeling by the stream that ran through the
nearby woods, Appleby found himself next to Silas Hornsby--
or had Silas sought out Appleby?  Smiling at the youth,
Appleby offered a piece of soap as he was rinsing away his
grime.  Silas gratefully accepted and washed, bashfully
glancing at Appleby repeatedly, smiling, spitting out powder
residue, sniffing loudly through his nose.  Their ablutions
completed, Appleby and Silas walked together back up the
short path that led out of the woods, past the outhouse, and
toward the field kitchen.

"So, Silas, tell me--why are you in the militia?" asked
Appleby as they went along.

"Well, I dunno.... I reckon, to whup the Yankees if they
come, sir!"  returned Silas.

"But why would the Yankees want to come?  What's all the
fuss about?" continued Appleby.

"I dunno, sir, but Colonel Gillam and them.... they say the
Yankees are gonna come, want to come make us give up our way
of life."  Silas spoke the last four words as if they were a
holy mantra.

"But, Silas," persisted Appleby, "what way of life is that?
Do you own slaves?" he asked.

Silas grinned and shook his head.  "Law, sir, I cain't
afford none o' that!  Naw, it's jes'...." and here he raised
his chin and looked into the middle distance, "it's jes' our
way of life."

Appleby let the matter drop, mystified.  It seemed clear to
him that the increasing difficulties between the States had
slavery at their root; so why should this poor, ordinary,
white laborer take up arms to defend a system that largely
benefited a relatively few Southerners?  He sighed; it was
the way of the world.  Should war come, uneducated mill
workers in the North would enlist just as quickly in defense
of an abstraction that hid the interests of moneyed power.
Rather than argue, he put his arm companionably around the
shoulder of the youth, feeling the bony flesh, until the two
emerged from the woods.  Did Silas edge a trifle closer as
they walked, or was that an accident of the uneven path?
Emerging into the clearing, Silas touched the tip of his
battered hat, smiled a wide, snaggle-toothed grin at
Appleby, and trotted off to join his company for lunch.  But
he looked back more than once at Appleby, who waved in
return.

The officers congregated together in a knot near the field
kitchen, eating their lunch, gossiping about the exercises,
the men, other officers who were not present.  Appleby was
included sociably in the group, and he tried to express
ideas which he thought fit with the general public opinion.
Then Colonel Gillam climbed back on a cart and declared two
hours' rest.  Men and officers dispersed here and there,
many to seek their tents for a nap.  Appleby concluded a
conversation with the owner of a plantation across the
harbor from Ashley, then bade him a good afternoon.  The
lunch and the day's exercise were combining in a call of
nature that Appleby could not ignore, so he sought the
outhouse he had passed on the way up the path.

Finding the two-holer empty, Appleby settled down to
business.  The afternoon was still as the tired men rested
in shade or tent.  You could hear the birds, the rustling of
forest creatures, the--but wait.  That was hardly a forest
creature.  The boards of the ramshackle outhouse left many a
gap.  In his peripheral vision, Appleby saw what he had
assumed was the shadow of a tree move.  The shadow appeared
near another gap in the planks, and a tiny gleam could be
seen about four or four and a half feet up.  A twig on the
other side of the plank wall snapped, once.  Not betraying
his awareness of this phenomenon, Appleby finished his
business and cleaned himself, then rose slowly.  Ever so
slowly he pulled up his trousers, but left his penis
dangling outside.  The shadow remained frozen where it was.
Slowly, Appleby completely finished dressing, except for his
penis.  Then in a flash he stuffed the organ inside his
pants as he broke through the door and cut a hard right
around to the side and back of the outhouse.

A tremendous rustling broke out in the underbrush just
behind the outhouse, then three or four thumps, a low,
desperate wail of "O! Law!" and the sound of scrambling, and
then--Appleby was on him:  Silas Hornsby.  Looking around
quickly, Appleby saw that this drama had not been observed.
Amazed and annoyed, he hauled the youth up by his collar.

"What's the meaning of this, Silas?" he asked.  The boy was
trembling, his limbs nearly in spasms, beet red from running
and from embarrassment, knees buckling so that Appleby was
obliged to keep hold of his collar.

"Oh, cap'n, please don't tell, Oh, it ain't what it seemed
like, Oh really cap'n--"

"Nonsense, Silas, it was exactly what it seemed like:  You
were spying on me in the outhouse!"

Unable to deny it, the youth really did sink down now,
sobbing, tears streaming down his face which he turned up to
Appleby with a look of desperation:  "Oh, don't tell anyone,
please cap'n, please don't, don't beat me, don't beat me--"

"Silas," Appleby spoke, more softly, but still with a note
of serious annoyance, "Silas, nobody will beat you.  And....
and I won't tell anybody."

"Oh Law!, guv'nor, Oh thank you.... Oh, I'll do anythin', I
will, jes' please don't--"

"Silas!" barked Appleby, hauling the trembling youth back up
to his feet.  "You must pull yourself together.  Now," he
continued, as Silas nodded frantically, still gasping for
breath as he tried to compose himself, "Now, you were
looking at me in the outhouse.  Don't you think I deserve an
explanation?"  The youth nodded but could only bow his head
as his face puckered up and tears streamed down once more.
Calming himself, it came to Appleby that the plainest, most
obvious answer must be---and he was very glad in that moment
that it was he, and not Carter Ashley or Colonel Gillam, who
had caught Silas in the act.

"Silas.... do you like looking at men?  Is that it?"  Silas
sobbed; unable to deny it, he nodded once and hung his head
again, whispering once, "Don' tell nobody."  The youth
seemed utterly desperate and forlorn.

"Silas.... Silas," and here Appleby put his arm around the
youth's bony shoulder.  Silas gasped, shuddered, snorted
noisily, looked at Appleby's hand on his shoulder and then
looked at Appleby.  "Silas," continued Appleby, "so do I."
He let that fact fall into the space between them like a
stone down the well, making a mighty splash when it finally
registered in Silas's consciousness.  The youth looked at
him open-mouthed.  "So do I, Silas," he repeated, "but I
don't go spying on strangers in outhouses.  It is terribly
risky, as you well know."  Silas nodded, snuffling and
snorting loudly, breathing through his mouth.

"Come," said Appleby, and led the youth back down the path
to the stream bank where they had washed before.  It was
deserted, but nevertheless Appleby walked off the path a
little ways to a grassy spot beyond some bushes.  He bade
Silas clean and compose himself, and the youth did so by
splashing water on his face and blowing his nose onto the
mud.  Then the two settled back on the grassy bank, sitting
quietly together, watching the stream sparkle as it
meandered through the woods.

"Mr.... Mr. Appleby..... Do ya' really?" Silas asked in a
small voice.

"Yes, Silas.  Lots of men do, whether every now and then or
all the time or somewhere in between.  I'm sure some of the
men here," Appleby said, nodding back towards camp, "share
your feelings."

Silas shook his head vigorously, snuffling loudly.  "Naw,
cap'n, they ain't nobody I can find."  Appleby protested
softly but the youth continued, "It ain't like it is for
you, mebbe.  You got all them slaves, they has to do what
you ask 'em to do.  Ain't like that for me."

A knife twisted slowly in Appleby's gut.  Pan and Bacchus on
that first night.... Hector, then Troy.... did they share
their bodies, their love, with him because he was their
white master?  Are they doing it for that reason now, even
in part?  How could he ever answer that question of whether
they wanted him for himself, since "himself" was the only
white man on Seaward and their owner?  He wanted Troy and
the others to want him regardless of color.  But then he
recalled his time in McGillicuddy's slave market, where it
was precisely his white skin and the ability to control the
slaves who were presented to him that was so powerfully
compelling--the memory of that wallow in the exploitation of
human bondage made his penis stiffen even now.  Appleby sank
in a pool of gloom for a moment, then rose back out, cursing
the system of slavery that made such doubts and
contradictions unavoidable.  He told himself sternly that he
had found, and given, real love on Seaward and that he must
put these questions behind him.  And yet.....

"Silas, you will find--"

"Naw, cap'n, I won'.... I won'...." and the youth teared up
again.  Appleby looked with pity on Silas; he had felt some
small measure of this despair back in Boston from time to
time, although nothing like this.  With pity came the idea
to do something.... not so much from desire for the skinny
youth, but to help.

"Silas, you will.  Here and there, from time to time, and
then some day somebody special will come into your life.
It's not so terribly different for those who like women, you
know," he said, and Silas smiled dismally through his tears.
"Silas.... maybe you have found such a moment now."  Silas's
head swung around to look at Appleby in disbelief.  "Would
you.... would you like to lie back against the grass?"

The youth did not comply, out of disbelief in the offer,
until Appleby gently placed his hand on the thin chest and
pushed him back.  Appleby swung around and began tugging on
the rough trousers, held up with a piece of rope.  Silas,
now caught up in a wave of hope and desire, lifted his hips
and assisted the process.  His pants and undergarment slid
down to bunch around his boots.  Sitting up briefly, he
slithered out of his shirt, and then lay back naked in the
dappled sunlight.

Silas's body was thin but not gaunt, the muscles taught and
wiry yet not well developed.  Appleby wondered whether he
had perhaps not enjoyed a diet that would support that kind
of physique.  Thin pads of muscles on his rounded chest lay
above his skinny tube of an abdomen where his ribs might be
counted.  He had no hair on his torso, but a small patch of
brown pubic hair above a penis of average size that had
popped up into a full blown erection. He sported a "farmer's
tan," brown arms, neck and face but lighter white-pink legs
and torso.  Appleby quickly kissed the youth, then tongued
and bit the skin on his chest and abdomen, nibbling his
nipples which were erect and pointed now, linking his way
down the belly.  He slid down to the stiff penis which,
although clean, emitted a musty odor.  He could hear Silas
panting heavily now, and the youth was grasping at Appleby's
shoulders and hair.

Appleby took the head of the penis in his mouth and nibbled
it with his lips and tongued over the top of the hood while
Silas writhed and moaned softly.  The youth began bouncing
his hips, greedy for this pleasure he had feared was denied
to him.  Appleby sank his mouth down over the rigid cock
and, maintaining a suction, began sliding up and down the
shaft, swallowing the steady flow of precum the youth was
producing.  It did not last long, for Silas, inexperienced
and keyed to a fever pitch of excitement, soon gasped,
arched his head and neck, and bucked his hips up three times
into Appleby's face, holding his groin there to pump his
semen out in a long, copious flow.   Then he collapsed back
down, shaking and quivering, breathing raggedly.

Appleby lay on the grass near the youth, rubbing slow
circles on his belly, as the crisis subsided.  "Thank you,
oh! thank you.... you cain't know.... how fine it was....
thank you" Silas said, over and over.  Peace descended on
the pair and Appleby rose to his knees, helping the youth to
pull his pants back up, as Silas wriggled back into his
shirt.  Bending over, Appleby kissed him quickly again, then
said, "Wait here ten minutes before returning," and was off
up the path that led back to the field.

The afternoon was physically active, with mock infantry
charges practiced using unloaded weapons.  It was a chance
to put together the skills developed in drills and in target
shooting over the weekend.  Appleby found this rather
enjoyable.  It was similar to "playing war" as a boy,
although with deadly serious consequences this time, of
course.  Appleby snuck a smile at Silas when he could, and
the youth grinned back appreciatively.  He seemed to be
trying extra hard to carry out his duties this afternoon.

A halt was called at the end of the day, and once more the
men dispersed to clean themselves before dinner.  Appleby
walked back to the stream with soap and towel to strip off
his clothing quickly and bathe.  A little ways away he could
see that Silas was part of a group of naked men splashing in
a deeper hole in the stream, and he hoped that the youth's
evident enjoyment of the moment might lead to further
discoveries.  Clothing himself, he nodded at Silas, but was
unsure if the youth saw the gesture.  Appleby returned up
the path and joined the other officers in the field kitchen
for dinner.

Eating the simple fare with a strong appetite, Appleby sat
near Colonel Gillam and Carter Ashley.  Both shook his hand
and solemnly declared their complete satisfaction with his
participation in the exercise.  Appleby thanked them, and
then he began putting down the next layer of his
preparations for Seaward.  He suggested that he would
personally think about some minor fortification of the
island, lying as it did in the sea approaches to Charleston.
Gillam, Ashley, and some of the other officers nodded with
approval, and some suggestions were offered up for the
fortification and defense of Seaward against any possible
Yankee threat.  Appleby received them gratefully--but not
with a view toward defending against the Yankees.

Some of the men began athletic contests on the field, others
sat around smoking, talking, drinking furtively from flasks,
and enjoying the air which carried the first hints of fall.
Appleby was among the latter group. Robert Ashley was also
there, having sat quietly throughout dinner.  There were
only a couple of other boys his age in the company, so he
had little opportunity to socialize over the weekend.  Night
moved over the camp and the bugle played the signal to
retire.  Robert, Carter, and Appleby walked back to their
neighboring tents together this evening, so that Appleby had
only the opportunity to mouth "tonight" to Robert, with a
wink, before entering his own tent.

Appleby and Bundit embraced warmly, glad to see one another
after the long day.  Bundit had been learning some useful
information from the other servants about the social,
financial, and political affairs of their masters.  Appleby
stored this information away for future use.  He expressed
real appreciation to Bundit for keeping their tent home in
as spotless a condition as possible.  Bundit's face broke
into a smile when Appleby told him there was a possibility
that last night's guests would come again.  Completely
disrobing this time, the two stretched out on a pallet and
awaited developments.

Distant voices, the clatter of metal, faraway footsteps, all
soon faded beneath the cover of night sounds.  Then the
soft, barely perceptible sounds of movement from the tent
nearby could be heard.  Not waiting for admission, Robert
lifted the tent flap and entered, followed by Aaron.
Appleby and Bundit, lying on the pallet in the low
lamplight, presented an inviting feast, and the two boys
smiled as they hurriedly removed their clothing.  The white
man and Asian youth on the floor simply lay there, smiling,
letting their guests begin the night's festivities.

Robert hesitated for a moment, torn between the two bodies
on the pallet.  Then, for the sake of a change from the
night before, he gleefully slid down and onto Appleby,
stretching himself out on the man's muscular body, his pink
penis grinding down into the larger, rigid tube beneath him.
Appleby hugged the boy to his chest, his face buried in the
muscular pectorals where the boy sucked each red nipple
hungrily.  The man's fingers dug into the boy's blonde hair,
then slid down his back to grasp the rounded butt, squeezing
and needing the globes of firm flesh as Robert writhed and
humped.  Then the boy scooted up along Appleby's rippled
abdomen and the two locked lips, kissing passionately,
tongues caressing tongues.  Robert kneaded Appleby's
shoulders while the man worked the boy's bottom with his
fingers, lubricating them with the precum from his own
rampant dick and inserting the slick fingers into the blonde
boy's anus.

Meanwhile, Aaron lowered himself with a giggle onto Bundit.
He delighted in playing with the Asian youth's thick bush of
black hair, as close to hair like his own as he had ever
seen.  Aaron's puckered lips were planted onto Bundit's
rosebud lips and the black slave and Asian youth sucked and
tongued, pulling lips into mouths where they were gently
bitten, sharing the same breath.  The black boy's stiff,
thick penis rode up and down on Bundit's abdomen as he moved
his groin, while Bundit's own rigid reddish gold cock curved
up between Aaron's legs and arched up over the black boy's
ass and ballsack, dribbling precum onto the dark skin below.
Aaron closed his thighs around Bundit's organ and began
humping up and down, bringing exquisite pleasure to the
Asian youth.

Now Appleby took command, an idea forming in his mind for
how to arrange matters.  Remaining on his back, he reached
for the lubricant he had at hand and slicked up his rampant
cock; Robert was already well lubricated with his precum.
Pushing the blonde boy up, Appleby slid him backward onto
his rigid penis, impaling him as the boy gasped.  Then
Appleby called for Bundit, with urgency.  Seeing what was
required, the Asian youth lubricated his own anus quickly,
then spread the oily stuff over Robert's dick which stuck
out, arching over Appleby's belly.  Bundit slid down onto
Robert's dick.  Two were now impaled, sitting on Appleby,
facing him, each quivering with anticipation and a desire to
begin pumping, but the white man was not finished.  Finally
motioning Aaron over, he oiled Bundit's rigid cock and
Aaron's anus, then pushed the black boy down onto the Asian
dick.  It was more painful for Aaron than for the others,
and his breath seethed through clenched teeth, but soon the
crisis passed and he was well seated on the stiff penis of
the Asian youth.  By now, Aaron was so far forward that his
fat cock slipped easily into Appleby's mouth.

The white man was like a boat carrying a cargo of black,
Asian, and white beauty; he pushed up with his groin,
shoving his dick up against Robert's butt.  The blonde boy
pushed back, then shoved forward into Bundit as Appleby
receded a bit, and Bundit in his turn ground his firm bottom
into Robert's groin.  As Robert pulled back to receive
Appleby's thrust, Bundit pushed forward into Aaron, who
thrust backward, almost pulling his penis back out of
Appleby's mouth, who leaned forward hungrily to keep it
enveloped with his lips.  Like a locomotive of flesh, the
four picked up the rhythm set by Appleby's hips, nobody
swinging very far in or out so as not to break the
connection, nobody going very fast so as to maintain perfect
coordination.

The arrangement prolonged their pleasure, which was intense.
Faces pressed forward into thick black hair.  Hands grasped
shoulders or reached around to scratch at chests and to
pinch nipples.  Appleby's hands ran up and down the multi-
colored array of flesh above him, all now slick with
perspiration.  Mindful of the need for quiet, their
overwhelming pleasure was expressed in ragged breaths and
exclamations softly whispered.

Robert came first, slamming into Bundit, supported by
Appleby's upward push with his groin.  He seized the Asian
youth around the middle and pulled in tight, his semen
flowing in a steady stream.  Then Bundit came, his hips
jerking in and out of Aaron which at the same time excited
Robert's captive penis even more.  Now it was Appleby's turn
to pump his groin up and down and then up, pushing his white
juice into the blonde boy's round butt.  And finally the
twelve year old Aaron reached his climax, slamming his groin
forward into Appleby's face with a whispered "Oh!" and in
the process pulling off of Bundit's throbbing dick entirely.
The Asian boy rolled off to one side of Appleby trailing a
line of semen, Robert rolled off to the other side, and both
lay panting as Aaron finished quivering and shaking in his
passion.  Then the black boy simply slid back down Appleby's
torso and lay there, panting.

The moon rolled slowly through the sky as breath returned to
normal, hands played with other hands or with hair or simply
rubbed the nearest chest or abdomen.  Not wanting to be
missed should his father wake, Robert rose first, gesturing
to Aaron.  Both boys dressed quickly.  The four came
together in a loose hug, kisses were lightly planted all
around, and then they slipped out.  Appleby and Bundit
embraced warmly and then lay back down together for sleep.

The next day the bugle blew early again.  It was time to
close up camp and return.  The men straggled over to the
field kitchen in the dewy damp for one more breakfast.  Each
commander walked among his men, commending them for their
efforts.  Appleby followed Carter Ashley, alongside Robert,
and winked surreptitiously at Silas as the youth was being
thanked, causing poor Silas to blush furiously, which he
covered with a feigned coughing fit.  The men were dismissed
to pack up their own belongings.  As Appleby and his friends
returned to their tents they found that their servants had
already collapsed them and were in the process of stowing
their belongings neatly away.

The sun dispersed the clouds and dew, and the men had a
pleasant hike back to the landing area.  Appleby walked with
this group and then with that, conversing on general topics.
Hanging back to walk with the baggage, he managed to slip
alongside Aaron, who smiled up at the white man.

"Aaron.... you know Rodney, at Ashley Plantation, do you
not?"  Aaron assured him that he did.  "Very well....  I
once told Rodney that if he should ever wish to leave
Ashley, he should get word to me.  I am saying the same to
you now.  You would be welcome at Seaward, under whatever
circumstances would bring you there."  The boy looked
thoughtful, then nodded, a brilliant white smile splitting
his dark face.  Appleby rumpled his hair playfully, then
moved off.

The group reached the landing area.  Some would leave from
there by horse, some had boats waiting for them at the long
pier, some simply continued walking on the road toward
Charleston; Silas was one of these, and Appleby waved to
him, receiving a smile in return.  Seeing the Hesperus with
Troy and Hector aboard, Bundit quickly began moving the
camping equipment and other baggage from the cart to the
boat.  As he was occupied in this task, Robert took Appleby
by the arm and tugged him a step or two to the side of the
group.

"Appleby," he began.  "Your slave, the Chinaman.... have you
ever thought of selling him?  I would give you a very fair
price."  Appleby stared at the boy, certain that he had
simply misunderstood the information he had been given two
days ago.

"Bundit is my servant, he is not a slave.  I cannot sell
him," said Appleby.

Robert made a dismissive gesture with his hand.  "Well, of
course you could.  Just bring him to Ashley on some pretense
and we would take him from there.  We could soon....
accustom him to that life.  He's a Chinaman," he said with
some annoyance, "what could he possibly do about it?"

Appleby simply stared into the boy's crystal blue eyes,
lovely as Lucifer's on the morning he fell from heaven.  He
knew later that it was a saving moment for him, for the
memory of the boy's statements kept at bay what might have
become a passionate love in Appleby's heart.  In the boy's
eyes he saw calculation, and greed, and a hunger for
dominance, and.... emptiness.  With a great struggle,
Appleby forced a smile and said, "He is not for sale."
Then, pleading the press of business at Seaward, he shook
Robert's hand, remembering to make it a warm handshake.
Likewise he found Carter Ashley and Colonel Gillam and bade
them farewell, then with as much haste as was seemly he
walked down the pier to the Hesperus and bade his friends
cast off.

Appleby sat silently next to Troy at the tiller as the
Hesperus caught a breeze and slipped past Charleston and out
into the harbor.  "Is anything wrong, master?" asked Troy,
smiling.

"It's an evil world, Troy," said Appleby.  Troy nodded,
waiting, as the two sat for a few minutes more.   "Troy,"
Appleby began, "I want to say this again.  You are not my
slave.  You do not have to do anything I tell you to do.
Oh," he added, "and I love you very much."  Tears began
trickling down his cheeks.  Hector and Bundit paused in
their tasks farther toward the bow, worried and concerned.

Troy sat looking at Appleby, thinking for a moment.  Then he
scooped the white man toward him with his big brown hand and
mashed him into his side.  "Something happened back there,
didn't it, master?"  Appleby could only nod, overcome with
the emotions of the weekend and the injustice of humankind.
"Tell me about it," said Troy, gently working the white
man's shoulder.  And they sat like that, talking, as the
Hesperus moved away from the world toward home.