Date: Sat, 6 Apr 2013 18:01:49 -0400
From: lokiaga@austin.rr.com
Subject: Droit du Seigneur 5

Droit du Seigneur 5
Lance Kyle

The next day, fourteen year old Sam was in the study, where he was doing
some of the paperwork that was tasked to him since his father, Talmadge
Rice, had passed away.  His eighteen year old brother Phillip was riding
the estate, overseeing the field work.  Sam was feeling confident about his
plan to exercise the droit du seigneur over the boys of the plantation,
having successfully taken the slave boy Cato yesterday.  Since Cato was the
sole seventeen year old boy on the plantation, it was on to the sixteen
year olds.  Sam could not remember how many were on the list, but he was
sticking to his regimen and not looking at the list until after lunch.

He was momentarily distracted by something at the window nearby.  He
looked, but could see nothing.  Sam returned to his paperwork, but there it
was again, something in the corner of his eye at the window.  He rose
quickly and went to look out but could see nothing.  He was sitting back
down at the desk when he heard a faint knock at the library door.  He bade
whomever it was to enter.

In slipped a slight black boy who looked quickly behind himself into the
hall and then shut the door.  The slave boy stood there, eyes averted.  Sam
thought he was trembling slightly.

"Yes, what is it?  You are...I think you are Joseph, are you not?" Sam
asked.

"Yassuh, tha's right, I is Joseph. I, uh...I is heah to ask you somethin',
Masta."  Sam was surprised.  This was not usual behavior in the slaves not
assigned to the house.  "How old are you, Joseph?" he asked.

"I is thirteen, Masta," the boy replied, his voice reedy from puberty.
Yes, he was definitely trembling.  Sam now placed him as one of the slaves
assigned to work around the house and gardens, not inside the house but in
tasks requiring some skills.  He might continue that way or be sent to the
fields when older, as his aptitude developed or not.  "Come closer,
Joseph," said Sam.

The body came closer, but not too close.  He seemed anxious, looking around
at any little sound in the house.  "Don't be afraid, Joseph," he added
kindly, "tell me what you came here for.  How...how did you get in?  Did
Hannibal let you?"

"Aw, nassuh, Hannibal, he be mad if'n he know I is heah," said Joseph.  Sam
had an inspiration.  "And that was you looking in the window to discover
where I was, right?"

If Joseph's dark brown skin could blush darker, it blushed then.  He could
only hang his head and nod it in the affirmative.  The boy was now wringing
his hands and seemed in great anxiety about something.  "Tell me what you
came for, Joseph, you won't get in trouble with Hannibal," said Sam,
softly.

This gentle invitation seemed to throw Joseph into even more anxiety.  His
face worked with emotion, his mouth formed words once or twice without
success.  And then in a rush he told it:

"Masta, my sistah, Eva, she thirteen too, we twins.  Masta Phillip, he take
her last week, you know, like de white men take de wenches de firs'
time. He come to our cabin ta do it. I lef' but went aroun' and looked
through a crack in the logs.  I...I saw him do it, Masta.  On top of her,
they were nekkid.  Masta Phillip...oh, Masta Sam, he was so pretty." Sam
began to be astonished at this admission and the direction it had just
taken.  Joseph began speeding up, the words tumbling out now, his eyes
almost squinted shut.  "He so pretty, Masta, an' I...I wisht it was me
instead o' Eva...I pleasured myself as I watched, Masta."  He stopped to
catch breath, sighing at the recollection.  "An' then I hear you was doin'
that fo' the bucks, not jus' the wenches, Masta Sam.  I...I hear you was
pleasurin' the bucks fo' the firs' time.  An' I come...I come to ask you ta
do dat ta me."  Joseph ended on a note of despair, as if he had no hope of
such a grace, as if he had likely offended his master in even suggesting
it.

Sam sat there in astonishment.  He never dreamed that during his project a
slave boy would actually offer himself up, would nearly beg him to take
him.  There was the consideration that Joseph was not "next in line," among
the sixteen year olds, that in fact it might be some time before Sam worked
his way down to that age group.  There was also the fact that Sam found
some pleasure in forcing a dark brown boy to do his sexual bidding.  But
Sam was intrigued, and in a moment decided to throw his careful plan out
the door...at least this time, at least for today.  Sam looked at the slave
boy appraisingly.

He was thin, and a little shorter than Sam.  Although but a year younger,
at thirteen, it seemed as if Sam was considerably ahead of Joseph in
physical development.  A close cap of dense black wool was on his head.
His nose and lips seemed to have grown a little ahead of the rest of him,
the nose being rather broad and the full lips very full.  His eyes had an
almost Asian almond shape with black pupils. Clean but old clothes covered
up the rest of his body.

Sam rose abruptly and said "Come with me," then strode with a sense of
purpose out the door and up the stairs to his room, Joseph scrambling to
keep up behind him.  Sam entered his bedroom, shutting and locking the door
right after Joseph entered, and then walked over to his bed.  Joseph
stopped a respectful distance away, head down, panting slightly—from the
run up the stairs or from anticipation, one could not tell.

Sam sat on the edge of the bed and extended a leg.  "Remove my boot," he
ordered.  Glad to have something familiar to occupy the strangeness of the
moment, Joseph hussled over and kneeled to perform the task, then removed
the other boot, and then remained kneeling from confusion at not knowing
what to do next.  Sam stood up silently and quickly removed his shirt,
dropping it to the floor.  Joseph darted a quick glance at it, as if an
eagle had landed next to him.  Sam let a second or two pass and then
loosened and dropped his trousers, stepping out of them and kicking them to
the side.  Now Joseph looked intently at that garment, not daring to look
any higher, seeing the cream colored legs within touching distance of him.

"Stand up, Joseph," the white boy commanded.  Trembling now, Joseph stood,
his gaze averted downward, but he could plainly see his master's young
body, naked except for his underpants.  "Remove your clothing, Joseph," Sam
commanded.  With a sigh, Joseph breathed "yes Masta" and removed his shirt,
then his pants, tossing them a little distance away.  He wore no
undergarments but in a reflex covered his groin with his
hand. Deliberately, in no hurry, now Sam removed and dropped his own
underwear and the two boys stood naked within touching distance.  Sam made
no attempt to cover himself, and was fully aware that Joseph was now
staring frankly at the fourteen year old white boy's rosie cock that was
slowly rising in anticipation from beneath its shock of dirty blonde pubic
hair.

"Give me your hands," Sam said, holding both his out.  Hesitating, having
never heard of a white who wanted to hold his hands, Joseph uncovered his
groin and extended his hands toward his young white master, who seized them
with his own.  Sam looked appraisingly at this dark brown boy who was his
slave, his property.  Joseph was thin but not gaunt, a tube of muscle with
the first hints of development.  His body made a sinuous S, the chest held
up and back, the curve continuing down the slightly rounded but firm belly,
then back through the typical African buttocks that were slab sided but
very rounded and, in back, riding high.  Thin but strong legs displayed
some muscular development.  Thin but defined muscles chased down from the
brown boy's rounded shoulders through his arms to the long fingers of his
hands, now entwined with the white boy's.  The black boy's midnight dark
cock, smaller than Sam's, was rising in full erection and now stood up and
out at a forty-five degree angle, the lighter colored head pushing out from
the foreskin.  A small field of peppercorn black hair scattered above the
penis, and balls that were a little larger than the proportion seemed to
call for.

Joseph stood trembling with his eyes cast down, but even with that
respectful stance he was staring directly at his young master's rampant
cock.  Sam released the boy's hands and seized Joseph's head with both his
hands, fingers dug into the crisp wool, and pulling the boy to him by the
head covered the full lips with his own.  Joseph stifled a gasp but was
completely caught up by the gesture.  Instinctively, he put his arms around
his master, his hands splayed on the white boy's hips, their rosie and
midnight purple black penises now mashed against each other straight up
between their abdomens, leaking clear fluid.  Sam invaded the black slave
boy's mouth, pushing his tongue in as far as he could, sucking the boy's
tongue into his own mouth.  Panting now, sharing breath, the boys grappled
with each other, pushing groins passionately into groins.  Then Sam broke
it off and pulled the black boy tightly to himself while he caught his
breath.  Each boy could feel the beating heart of the other as light skin
and dark skin pressed tightly together.

This was the first boy that Sam was actually larger than, and the physical
advantage he had added to his sense of control that came from owning this
dark body.  He intended to take this boy, and in his own way.  He pushed
Joseph down by the shoulders so that the black boy was kneeling in front of
him.  "Suck it," he commanded, pushing his swollen penis against the full
lips of the slave.  Joseph opened up and began literally sucking.  Holding
the boy's head on each side with his hands in the crisp cap of black wool,
Sam began pumping back and forth, Joseph gagging as the white boy's
fourteen year old cock hit the back of his throat.  In a few minutes,
though, Sam pulled out, afraid of climaxing too soon.

He pulled the black boy up now and pushed him back onto the bed, quickly
stepping to one side to seize the pot of lubricant in the process.
Forcefully, Sam pushed Joseph's knees up to his chest and lubricated his
rosie, hard dick.  Sam thrust his oiled fingers quickly in and out of the
black boy's wrinkled anus, Joseph gasping as he did so and then Sam, his
feet still on the floor, his knees against the edge of the bed, pushed his
penis against the black slave boy's anus and in one push entered him
entirely.

Joseph was not prepared and he cried out, writhing.  Sam leaned forward
against the black boy's legs and reached out to pin the slave boy's wrists
to the bed.  Now arched over Joseph at a forty-five degree angle, Sam began
pumping in and out in a fury of lust and control.  He stared down at the
dark brown body he was violating, stared deeply into the slave boy's eyes
who forgot all his training and returned the stare, tears rolling from the
corners of his eyes in pain.  Back and forth Sam pistoned and then with a
cry pushed forward, shuddering, emptying his semen into the black slave
boy's guts.  He remained there panting and shivering until the wave of
ecstasy passed.

Then, staying inside the slave boy, still standing at the edge of his bed,
Sam bent down as far as he could go and managed to take the light tan head
of the slave boy's midnight dark cock into his mouth.  With one hand Sam
steadied himself on Joseph's heaving chest, with his other hand he began
pumping the slave boy's iron hard cock as he sucked the knob.  It did not
take long at all.  With cries of "Masta! Masta!" Joseph began thrashing and
pushing.  Sam could taste the ribbon of seeming shooting into his mouth and
he swallowed it, sucking the boy dry.  Finally Sam pulled out and stood
there as Joseph's legs stretched out, the slave boy's rounded belly and
chest still panting, the white boy looking intently at this dark brown body
he had just ravished.  Had his brother taken Joseph's twin sister in much
the same way?

Sam stepped away to the washbowl on the nearby nightstand and cleaned
himself, then dressed himself as Joseph slowly, gingerly rose from the bed.
The slave boy was still naked as Sam sat in a chair and demanded that
Joseph put his boots back on his feet.  Then Sam rose and regarded the
naked body in front of him.  Reaching over the smacked the slave boy's
bottom hard and said, "That was good Joseph.  We will do this again some
time.  Now dress and go about your chores."  Joseph smiled, still wiping
tears from his rough violation, but dressed quickly and whispering "Thank
you, Masta," he slipped from the room.



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