Date: Fri, 12 Feb 2016 21:22:45 -0500
From: lokiaga@austin.rr.com
Subject: Droit du Seigneur 8

Droit du Seigneur 8

The inspiration for the next step in his process of deflowering the slave
boys came in a flash to Sam.  It wasn't that many years ago that his father
would take Sam and his brother to a cabin in a far corner of their property
for campouts.  The cabin was still there, although he supposed that nobody
had used it in a while.  Sam decided he would go there with a boy, if he
found one suitable.  There were a lot of preparations to make in a hurry.

First, he examined the list of slave boys eighteen or younger and saw that
there were two fifteen year olds, the age group he had now reached, only
one year older than he was himself.  He summoned Hannibal and asked him to
bring one of the boys to him immediately, no showering first.  Hannibal
complied and while he went to fetch the boy, Sam began writing a long list
of supplies that would be needed.  In a few moments Hannibal knocked and
entered the library where Sam was working.

"This is Amos, massa," said Hannibal.  He brought forward a boy no larger
than Sam, very dark with a cap of short kinky tufts, a face that was
definitely African and handsome with full lips top and bottom, a broad
nose, curved eyelashes over dark almond shaped eyes.  Sam could see some
moderate muscular development beneath Amos's clean but worn clothing.  Sam
had seen him before, he worked around the grounds of the big house tending
to outbuildings, horses, farming machinery and such.  Perhaps when he was
older he would become a field hand.

Hannibal was about to slip out but Sam bade him stay.  He walked over to
Amos, who kept his head down.  "You are Amos, and you have fifteen
summers?" Sam asked.  "Yessa," Amos replied, in a voice husky from recent
puberty.  It was a one word answer but a ready one.  "I am going camping
for a few days and I need a servant to go with me, are you willing?" Sam
asked.  A quick flash of interest showed on Amos's dark face and he replied
softly but with eagerness, "Yes, massa."  Sam nodded.

"Alright.  Amos, be here tomorrow at nine in the morning.  Bring a change
of clothing with you." Amos nodded, now almost eagerly.  Whatever his young
master had in mind for him it had to be better than mucking out stables.
Sam turned to the butler and handed him the list he had made.  "Hannibal,
tomorrow at nine have one of the men here with a horse and wagon and these
supplies.  I am going camping in the old trapper's cabin.  The man will
carry Amos and me up there, then leave us and return."  Hannibal nodded.
Sam was only guessing, but the butler seemed to look almost relieved at a
recent "more normal" turn of events for Sam.  If he only knew.

At dinner that evening Sam informed his brother and mother of his plans to
go camping.  They accepted the idea placidly.  The plantation could pretty
much run itself, Sam was up to date on his responsibilities and paperwork,
and Phillip could certainly handle matters.  That evening Sam packed his
own bag with some changes of clothing and a few books, then went to bed
early.

Promptly at nine the next morning Sam stepped onto the verandah to find
Amos and the cart, horse, and driver waiting.  The driver was one of the
older men, Fielding, named for one of Sam's father's favorite authors.
Same looked the cart over quickly.  It was packed, and all seemed to be in
order.  One unusual provision was one of the barn cats, for Sam anticipated
the need for a mouser.  Sam leapt up onto the driver's bench beside
Fielding, and Amos climbed in among the supplies with his bag, and off they
went.

There was a clear path to the cabin, but it took about two hours of steady
going. Clearly, once settled in, Sam and Amos would be in their own little
world without quick access back to the plantation or any other dwelling.
The surrounding fields and pastures gave way to woods and the ground began
to rise a little.  Eventually the wagon pulled into a clearing in which
stood the cabin.  A quick inspection found it to be in good condition.  It
was a one room structure with an attached lean-to where firewood and oil
was stored. A porch with half walls and shutters that could be closed over
the open spaces ran along the front side of the cabin.  There was an
outhouse not far away, and within thirty yards, on the other side of the
cabin from the outhouse, a natural spring made a small pond that drained
away into a creek that tinkled away down some rocks into the forest.

On the verandah was a sort of pallet on which lay an old mattress, probably
stuffed with cornhusks, which looked like a place for a servant to sleep.
Inside was a bedframe with no mattress but instead a rope netting that made
the foundation for a mattress.  There was a fireplace with wood stacked by
it and some arrangements for cooking on the hearth.  There was a simple
table with three chairs and a sort of rough sideboard with a cupboard for
storing cooking supplies.  There was a simple chest of drawers.

Fielding and Amos began moving in supplies, Sam directing where they should
go.  Each leg of the bedframe stood inside an empty can, and Sam knew what
to do with that.  He poured a little fuel oil into each can, thus creating
a barrier against vermin crawling up into the bed.  Sam had ordered a
featherbed and bedding to be brought in the wagon, and so that was carried
in and placed on the rope support in the frame. With a broom he began
dusting and sweeping the other surfaces.  Everything was in good condition,
but there WAS a lot of dust from a lack of occupation.  Two windows, with
shutters closed over them, gave light and air to the room once the shutters
were raised from within and secured.  There was wood in the shed, plus an
axe and a saw, and more fuel oil that had not yet evaporated. Near the
cabin was a well with a bucket attached to a rope near it, and a wooden
cover that, when removed, revealed a good supply of water below.  It was
about noon by the time supplies had been moved into the cabin and roughly
distributed.

Sam distributed some bread, ham, and cheese that had been packed into a
basket and bade the slaves sit with him at the table to eat.  As with
Romulus and Remus the day before, the slaves demurred, but he insisted in a
friendly way and so, casting questioning glances at each other, they sat
and ate with their master. They could hear the cat prowling around and
every now and then a scuffle as it pounced on a mouse or rat.  It would not
be long before the cabin was clear of that problem.

After lunch, Fielding hitched the horse to the cart and slowly rambled off.
Sam told him to return in three days time with more food and supplies, in
case he was in the mood to stay longer. He quickly wrote a note to Hannibal
regarding the supplies, and one to his brother about his plans.  He was not
so far away that a quick horse could not fetch him back if needed. Looking
ahead, Sam also wrote, in his note to Hannibal, to send the other fifteen
year old slave boy.

Then Sam and Amos spent the rest of the day hard at work making the cabin
livable.  Sam set Amos to work bringing more firewood into both cabin and
lean-to, and sawing in half the longer logs that lay on the outside of the
lean-to.  He himself kept sweeping out the dust and rodent turds from the
cabin, cleaning out old pots and pans, hauling in a good supply of water
from the well.  He lit a small fire in the fireplace and after some smoking
the chimney began drawing.  Every now and then a bit of bird or squirrel
nest would drop down into the fire, as the chimney began cleaning itself
with heat and smoke.  Late in the afternoon Sam went outside to join Amos
in the project of gathering wood.  Taking the axe, he stepped into the edge
of the woods and chopped down a few old trees.  Over the next days they
would saw these up to replenish the wood supply.

Both boys were hot and dusty from their labors.  It also seemed as if a
storm might be coming up, as clouds rolled overhead, so Sam called a halt
to the work and told Amos to join him at the pool.  It had a grassy bank
that sloped down gently before it got very deep, with the creek flowing out
on the other side, some forty yards away.  Sam had brought a small cake of
soap.

Standing on the bank, Sam looked at his and at Amos's clothes and it was
clear they had become rather soiled from their efforts.  Fortunately both
were rather simply dressed.  Sam took off his boots—Amos was
barefoot—and then Sam bade the slave boy to undress, as he did so
himself.  Both boys were soon out of their clothing, Amos sneaking peeks at
the naked body of his white master, while Sam more frankly appraised the
dark brown body of his slave boy.  He was just beginning muscular
development, with thin pads of muscle on his chest, just the beginnings of
pads down the abdomen to where the pelvis made a V that led down to his
groin.  Sam was pleasantly surprised to see that Amos's penis was quite
large for his age; evidently it had developed first as he had moved into
puberty.  A thatch of bristling black pubic hairs sat above a long and
heavy rod of meat that curved out and down over two heavy testicles in the
ballsack.  Amos's genitals were quite dark, the ballsack almost crinkly
black.  Behind, the boy's bottom stuck out in typical African fashion,
sitting high and rounded, slab sided.  Sam gave momentary thought to using
his slave sexually in that moment, but he decided it could wait. Both boys
stepped into the pool and soaped up, each separately sharing the soap.
Then Sam instructed Amos to follow his lead in soaping up their simple
garments and washing them in the pool.  The soap from bath and laundry
drained away toward the creek outlet. Soon their clothes were cleaner, but
of course soaking wet.

Sam gathered his clothes and the soap and led Amos back to the cabin where
they arrayed their garments over chairs and chests of drawers so they could
drip dry.  Amos looked around and said, "Massa, I get mah bed ready," and
went onto the porch to shake out the mattress.  Of course, Sam had other
plans, but he thought it could not hurt to have an extra pallet out there.
But at the first shake of the cornhusk mattress, there was a rustling and
then a host of bugs began running out of it.  Both boys were startled and
jumped back.  Then Sam grabbed the mattress by one corner and quickly
tugged it out into the yard.  The fabric was rotten, splitting as it went,
with more bugs and husks emerging.  Both boys looked at it shaking their
heads.  It was clear it was totally unusable. Then Sam bade Amos fetch some
fuel oil, and a burning stick from inside the stove.  The oil was poured on
the mattress and it was set alight, the husks and rotten fabric quickly
burning down into ashes.

Coming back into the cabin, Amos looked around in some distress and asked,
"Wheah I gonna sleep, massa?"  When Sam said, "With me" and gestured toward
the bed, a look of consternation and then understanding spread over Amos's
face.  He had heard, of course, of the deflowering project, but perhaps the
focus on the cabin had made him think his time had not yet come.  Now, as
directly as he dared, he appraised his young master's naked body in the
fading light, his lips slightly parted, trying to come to terms with his
own feelings about what was likely to happen to him.  Sam lit a couple of
lanterns and light swelled out into the cabin.  Outside, the wind had
picked up considerably, and there was definitely a storm coming.

The boys sat naked at the table and ate more ham, bread, and cheese, and
some fruit.  The water from the well was sweet and cool.  The wind by now
had picked up considerably and the first sound of raindrops on the roof
could be heard.  Sam led Amos to the porch where they secured the shutters
and then, with some difficulty against the rising wind that was blowing
rain inside, they secured the shutters over the windows of the main
cabin. The cabin was bathed in the soft glow of the lanterns. Sam was just
beginning to plan his sexual attack when something happened that made a
plan unnecessary.

The boys were just coming into the main cabin room and securing the door
against the wind and wet that whipped in past the shutters when there was
an enormous explosive sound, light flooded in from outside, and the rain
poured down in a torrent.  Evidently lightning had struck nearby.  Amos
gave a shriek and involuntarily leapt for his master, putting his arms
around the white boy, gasping.

"Why, Amos, it's alright, it's only lightning and thunder nearby.  You are
safe here," said Sam.

But the black slave boy clung tight to his master's side, both arms around
the white boy's torso, panting and gasping.  "Ise skeered, massa," he said,
"I ain't skeered o' nothin' else, but I am of—" and there was another
tremendous crash as another bolt struck.  Amos began absolutely sobbing.
Evidently this was his one phobia, but it appeared to have undone him.  Sam
turned to take the trembling naked slave boy into his arms and held him
tight as Amos wept on his shoulder.  They stood like that for a moment.
Then Sam said, "come, pee into this bucket," he said, indicating one by the
door, "and let's get into bed.  Amos was hardly able to do it but he
succeeded, and yellow streams from both boys crossed as they went down into
the bucket.  Sam was still supporting Amos, who was trembling badly.

"Come to bed," said Sam, and led him to the bed.  They piled in and as
another bolt struck, not so near this time, Amos moaned in fear.  Under the
covers, Sam turned to him and hugged him tight, pulling their naked bodies
together.  After a few moments it appeared as if the lightning had given
way to torrential rain, but the roof of the cabin held tight.  Face to face
on their sides, tightly embracing, Sam held Amos as the black boy's
trembling gradually became calmer.

"Ise sorry, massa," Amos whispered, "it jes' skeers me so."  Sam held the
boy tight and began rubbing him gently, murmuring reassurance.  And as the
two bodies lay there together, nature began to take over and both could
feel their penises beginning to rise from the close contact, and more to
the point, could feel the arousal of the other boy.

"Wass...was happenin', massa?" Amos asked.  "You...is we...you gon' do what
you done wit' de oddeh boys?" Amos asked, trying to make sense out of it.
Sam just whispered, "Yes.  Relax.  You have nothing to fear."  Amos was
still trembling as Sam pulled him even tighter toward him, and began
pressing his cock into the black slave boy's body.  Sam ran his hand down
the slave's back and cupped his buttocks, pulling them into the embrace.
Amos groaned slightly, and his gasps of fear slowly began to give way to
the elevated breathing of passion.

"What...what we gon' do, massa?" he asked.  In response Sam kissed him,
gently at first, and then locked lips and mouths in a full kiss.  Both boys
were now fully erect.  Amos seemed willing but still afraid from the
weather, and unsure as to what to do. Sam reached down to the black boy's
penis, unusually large when flaccid but now a full and hard, meaty rod.
Sam put his own rampant rosie penis next to his slave boy's cock and with
one hand grasped both of them and began pumping while with the other he
stroked the boy gently, tenderly.  Amos moaned and now began pushing in to
his white master in response, gently pumping with his hips.  Sam matched
the rhythm, their hard penises now growing slick from the clear fluid
leaking out of both organs. More pumping, kissing, and stroking, and then
Amos came first, groaning loudly as he slammed his body forward into his
master's.  Sam could feel the hot flow from the black penis shoot up
between their grinding bodies and over his own penis, lubricating his hand,
and then he himself found his orgasm, crying out loud as his own semen
joined that of the black slave boy.  Sam's hand slowed as he milked the
last from both rigid organs, their bodies making squishing sounds as they
glided together with semen oiling the space between them.  Both boys spent,
Sam withdrew his hand and wrapped it around the slave boy.  Amos
reciprocated, stroking his master's body all over. Passionate kisses turned
to tender ones. Slowly their cuddling became more still, and then to the
lullaby of the rain on the roof they drifted off to sleep in each other's
arms.


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lokiaga@austin.rr.com