Date: Mon, 9 Feb 2015 04:59:33 +0000 (UTC)
From: Christian Debus <servus4u@ymail.com>
Subject: "Master of River's Bend" Chapter 6 (Gay Male / Interracial)

Master of River's Bend Plantation
By
Jean-Christophe
Chapter Six
"Sir Yancy"

Written by Jean-Christophe: February, 2015
A repository for my stories can be found at
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Jean-Christophe_Stories

"The characters and ideas contained in this story are products of the
writer's imagination and bear no resemblance to actual persons or
events. Please respect the integrity of the story and don't do any
rewrites, make alterations or add another's artwork or pictures"

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Chapter 6:

With the passing of each minute, Luke grows ever more restless; waiting for
Massa Charles's arrival is becoming quite nerve wracking.

Fully clothed, he waits on the front porch at the top of the steps in the
position that Ptolemy had hastily demonstrated to him. He stands with his
feet apart, hands clasped behind his back, resting on his ass and with his
head bowed. Previously, he'd noted the two slaves who'd brought his luggage
up from the river, standing in exactly the same position and subsequently,
he'd been told by Ptolemy that this is the position of respect that all the
plantation's slaves must adopt as they wait on Massa Charles.

Ptolemy waits with Luke but he is on the opposite side of the steps. Unlike
Luke, he is naked and kneeling with his forehead and the palms of his hands
pressed to the tessellated tiles and, even more humiliatingly, with his
knees spread wide. Ptolemy had warned Luke that he mustn't move or fidget
as they wait for Massa Charles and Luke is finding the enforced immobility
hard to cope with. Already his inactive muscles are starting to spasm and
he is afraid that his legs will cramp. Forbidden to even raise his head,
Luke nevertheless raises his eyes to gaze lustfully at his crouching
cousin's nude body.

Beginning at Ptolemy's lowered head, Luke's eyes travel up the broad,
muscular back to his elevated ass. If Luke could see Ptolemy from the rear,
he'd see that his cock and balls hang low between his thighs while the
deep, hairless crevasse dividing the smooth ass-cheeks is crudely stretched
open to the observer's view.

From where he stands, Luke can't see this but his mind lewdly visualizes
the obscene puckering of Ptolemy's sphincter caused by the stress placed
upon it by his unnatural position. However, what Luke can see, and which
excites him, are the two, livid-red stripes of Boss Edward's whip which
mark both ass-cheeks. Luke finds them powerfully erotic and his
semi-tumescent cock stiffens into a turgid erection.

Luke doubts if there could be a more humiliating position than Ptolemy's
and yet he is strangely envious of him. Luke's erotic imagination sees him
also crouching naked on the floor alongside Ptolemy as they wait for Massa
Charles's arrival.

In the distance, Luke hears the warning hooting of the riverboat's horn as
it slowly makes it way out into the river to begin its slow journey to
Natchez. Luke also hears the deep thumping of the ship's engines and the
churning of its paddles carried on the summer breeze and he wonders just
how much longer they must wait for Massa Charles.

The horn serves as a signal to the two slaves, Horus and Osiris who put
down their hoes and run swiftly to wait at the bottom of the steps where
they quickly assume the same position of respect as Luke. Luke wonders what
part they are to play in Massa Charles's arrival.


                                                        >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

With nothing better to do as they wait, Luke thinks back over recent
events. With the first blast of the boat's horn, Ptolemy had become
agitated and he'd hurried Luke into carrying his remaining luggage upstairs
to his room. He'd told Luke there wasn't time to unpack and that he must
prepare for Massa's lunch and that he needed Luke to come with him.

Luke had accompanied Ptolemy to the kitchen where he'd hastily introduced
Luke to the cook, Hapi. The cook, like Ptolemy, was stark naked with a
smooth, hairless body; he wore a collar around his neck and, like the
slaves that Luke had seen in the fields, he displayed the RB brand on his
chest. Luke decided that Hapi was of an indeterminate age and that his
semi- sedentary life as Massa Charles's cook, combined with the obvious
oversampling of his own cooking, had done much to spoil his once impressive
physique.

Hapi, like the pictorial portrayal of his namesake by the ancient
Egyptians, had a protruding belly which obscures his miniscule genitalia,
pendulous breasts and a sagging ass. His appearance was at odds with what
Luke already knew about Massa Charles. Ptolemy had earlier mentioned that
his master had exquisite taste in slaves and somehow, Hapi seemed to
contradict Ptolemy's words. But later, Luke will find, rather than Hapi's
appearance, it is his exceptional culinary skills that Massa Charles prizes
over his looks.

The delicious aroma of cooking overwhelmed Luke and his rumbling stomach
reminded him that he hadn't eaten since breakfast time at first light. He'd
hoped there might be some of the freshly brewed coffee and biscuits that
Ptolemy had solicitously served to Nestor on offer but neither were
forthcoming.

Anxiously, Ptolemy enquired about the luncheon menu and asked if Hapi had
prepared enough for two. He told Hapi that Massa has a house-guest who
would be eating with him. Hapi huffily informed Ptolemy that, if necessary,
he could cater for a small army of Massa's guests.

Suitably rebuffed, Ptolemy leads Luke to the formal dining-room where the
table had been set for Massa Charles's lunch.

For the next few minutes, Ptolemy ignored Luke's presence as he studiously
checked the immaculate white tablecloth for any blemishes and ensured that
all the crockery, cutlery and glassware were correctly laid out on the
table and all condiments were in place.

Finally satisfied that all was well and up to the high standards demanded
by Massa Charles, Ptolemy led Luke to the top of the steps where they
obediently assumed their places to wait for his arrival.

                                                       >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Time continues to drag and Luke's muscles begin to ache and he starts to
fidget. This earns him a stern rebuke from Ptolemy who hisses for him to.

"Luke, stand still!"

Luke sighs resignedly and wills himself to stand motionless but finds the
enforced inactivity galling. However, there's nothing wrong with his ears
and several minutes later, he hears the cantering of horse's hooves
scrunching in the gravel of the driveway. Through his lowered eyes, he sees
the figure of a horseman rapidly approaching and as it draws closer he
recognizes the horse as Pegasus and its rider as Massa Charles. And Luke
discerns a third figure - that of a naked man - running alongside
Pegasus. Even from this distance Luke recognizes him as a white slave
although he is puzzled at what purpose he is serving running at his Massa's
side.

As Massa Charles reins in his mount, Horus and Osiris step forward and
hurriedly adopt new positions. One respectfully takes the reins from Massa
Charles while the other submissively falls to his hands and knees alongside
Pegasus and, stiffening his back, offers it as a dismounting step to his
master. Massa Charles climbs out of the saddle and momentarily pauses on
the slave's back as he looks around. Finally, his eyes come to rest on
Ptolemy and Luke waiting for him at the top of the stairs.

Massa Charles steps down from the slave's back and climbs the step to where
Ptolemy waits.  Ptolemy crawls forward and kisses his master's dusty
riding-boots and greets him.

"Welcome back Massa! How can your slave serve you, Massa?"

Luke watches and listens with interest as Ptolemy greets Massa Charles. As
they'd waited for Massa Charles, he'd wondered why Ptolemy was on his hands
and knees; now he knows the reason. Obviously, Ptolemy is expected to
humiliatingly debase himself whenever he greets his Master after any
absence. Eventually, Luke is to find that this is expected of any house
slave and, no matter how short Massa's absence, he must be so welcomed into
his house. The humiliation of this isn't lost on Luke; erotically, he
wishes that he too could welcome Massa Charles in such a servile manner.

Massa Charles ignores Ptolemy's greeting and instead he looks towards
Luke. Even with his eyes lowered to the floor, Luke is aware that he is
under Massa Charles's close scrutiny and he feels strangely ill-at-ease.

Despite his discomfiture, Luke is aware that either Horus or Osiris - he's
unsure which one - has tethered Pegasus to a hitching rail in the shade of
a nearby, spreading oak tree while the other brother fetches a pail of
fresh water and holds it while the horse quenches its thirst.

Meanwhile, the third slave - the one who'd ran at Massa Charles's side -
has assumed the position of respect and stands at the bottom of the
steps. Unlike Pegasus, who enjoys a shady resting spot and a cool drink,
the slave stands panting after his long run in the full heat of the midday
sun.

Finally, Massa Charles speaks.

"On your feet, Ptolemy! Did you welcome my guest? Where is he?

"Massa, thank you! Massa, I put your guest in the morning room and served
him coffee and biscuits, Massa."

"Good boy! I must go and greet him and officially welcome him to River's
Bend. Follow behind me, Ptolemy and bring your cousin with you."

"Yes Massa!"

Ptolemy hurries ahead to open the front door and then stands to one side as
Massa Charles enters. Before turning to trail behind his master, Ptolemy
silently indicates to Luke that he should follow him.

As he enters into the spacious, entrance foyer, Luke has little time to
marvel at the house's opulence as he follows behind Massa Charles and
Ptolemy. On entering, the first thing he notes is a three-quarter
life-size, white marble sculpture of two nude, Grecian wrestlers resting on
a plinth in the center of hall. The suggestive intertwining of the two
wrestlers' muscular bodies and limbs adds an air of decadence that appeals
to Luke's erotic senses. He also notes the highly polished floorboards
which are covered with exquisite, hand-woven, Persian rugs and an
expensive, crystal chandelier hanging majestically from the high ceiling.
And dominating the foyer is the wide, white painted staircase curving
upwards to the upper level.

Massa Charles strides purposefully across the foyer dutifully followed by
Ptolemy and a now very apprehensive Luke. He moves down a carpeted
passageway and enters into a luxuriously furnished room which Luke assumes
is the morning room he'd heard Ptolemy mention earlier.

As Luke enters, he catches sight of his slave Nestor self-consciously
sitting on a chaise longue and awkwardly balancing a fine, bone china
coffee cup on his lap while, at the same time, munching on a biscuit. And
standing beside him is a young, naked, boy - obviously a white slave - who
decadently waves a long-handled, Oriental fan made of wild turkey feathers
to keep him comfortably cool. Momentarily, Luke's white pride is affronted
by the sight; at home Nestor is forbidden to sit on any of his mother's
furniture under pain of severe punishment. But secretly, Luke is very
aroused at the incongruous sight of his slave, Nestor masquerading as a
free man.

Nestor is obviously ill-at-ease with his new "freedom" and quickly
scrambles to his feet as they enter. Conditioned by the long years of his
slavery, he lowers his eyes to floor out of respect for his "betters" and
waits silently for someone to speak.

Massa Charles strides purposefully across the room and shakes his hands in
a warm welcome.

"Young man, welcome to River's Bend! You are most welcome and I look
forward to becoming better acquainted with you over lunch. I see my
servants have taken good care of you."

Poor Nestor! He blushes in confusion at Massa Charles's words. No man has
ever spoken to him in such a friendly manner as Massa Charles and he's
plainly at a loss for words. While Nestor struggles to find a suitable
reply, he reflects that although his host is a black man he is unlike any
black man that Nestor has ever known. All the black men in his world are
slaves and yet Massa Charles is clearly not a slave.

On the contrary, he is a free black man who owns slaves of his own. And to
add to Nestor's confusion, Massa Charles's slaves are all white men as he'd
first explained to Nestor on the pier. But how can such a thing be?  He'd
been born a slave and he'd been conditioned to accept that the world's
natural order is for black men to serve white men as the Bible sanctioned -
"hewers of wood and a drawers of water" - and therefore condemned to
perpetual slavery.

And that is the only world Nestor has ever known. But here, at River's
Bend, his familiar world has been turned upside down and he is confounded
by all that is happening. He looks beyond Massa Charles to where the slave,
Ptolemy stands submissively waiting for his Master's next command. And
standing beside him in the position of respect with his head bowed in
silent humility is young "Massa Luke".

Finally, Nestor regains some of his composure and replies simply to Massa
Charles's welcome.

"Thank you, Sir!"

"Let's not stand on ceremony, young man. Here you are my equal and you are
a free man. My slaves are at your disposal and they will serve you as they
serve me for the duration of your stay. But I can't continue to call you
'young man' can I? And I certainly can't call you by the slave name you
were given by your white masters. You need to think of a name more suitable
for a free, black man. Does a name come to mind?"

Poor Nestor! His head spins with the momentum of all that is happening and
yes, he'd welcome a change of name. He'd long been resentful of the name
he'd been given at birth by his white owner. He'd always found the naming
of their slaves by "white folk" as demeaning and condescending. By and
large, whites, in their appalling ignorance and white arrogance, are
insensitive to the feelings of their black servants and apply the same
standards to naming them as those they use in naming their dogs and horses.

Now this man - Massa Charles - is giving him the chance to restore a
measure of his self- respect and dignity by inviting him to choose a "free"
name for himself.

Nestor thinks carefully before choosing a name and several run through his
mind. Over the years, he'd come into contact with "white gentlemen" whose
names he'd envied. And among these are William and Chauncey. But the name
that really appeals is "Yancy". The real Yancy is a lifelong friend of
Luke's from his schooldays.

"Thank you Sir! I choose Yancy! I'm happy to have you call me Yancy, Sir."

"Then Yancy it is and you must stop calling me Sir! Please, call me
Charles."

Then turning to Ptolemy, Massa Charles instructs him.

"Ptolemy, Sir Yancy is now my guest and you will afford him the respect and
courtesy that is his due as a free, black man. You will instruct all the
house-slaves that from this moment on they are to refer to my guest as Sir
Yancy and to serve him as they do me. Do you understand, boy?"

"Yes Massa, I will see that the other slaves do as you instruct,
Massa. Massa may I ask a favor?"

"What is it Ptolemy?"

"Massa can I welcome Sir Yancy to your home and offer my services to him as
your guest?"

"Good boy, Ptolemy! Of course, you may welcome Sir Yancy."

Ptolemy falls to his knees and crawls across the floor to where Sir Yancy
is standing. He bows his head in supplication and kisses both feet in
welcome.

"Sir Yancy! Welcome to my Massa's home as his honored guest. Sir, if you
permit me, I will serve you as my master has instructed, Sir."

From where he is standing, Luke watches as Ptolemy debases
himself. Although he finds Ptolemy's self-humiliation repugnant,
nevertheless he is aroused by the sight of Ptolemy on all fours groveling
at Sir Yancy's feet. And in a sense he wishes it was him crouching before
his former slave's feet. How many times over the past three years has he
fantasized about similar situations? Hopefully, it won't be too long before
he also pays homage to both Massa Charles and Sir Yancy.

Sir Yancy is growing in confidence with each passing minute and draws on
his past experiences as a slave when he'd been in similar situations to
Ptolemy's current one. On those occasions, when a guest had complimented
Nestor's master on owing such a "fine specimen" or a "fine slave",
etiquette had required his owner to return the compliment by inviting the
guest to inspect "my property".  Yancy had hated these inspections which
are euphemistically referred to as fingerings. But he'd been powerless to
resist and any reluctance to submit on his part would have been
punished. But always he'd dreaded the order to "shuck down boy!"  as he
knew this was a prelude to even greater indignities.

"He's a fine slave, Charles. Have you had him long?"

"Indeed he is Yancy! I've owned him for twenty-two years now. And he has
served me well.  And he will also serve you while you are a guest at
River's Bend. Please feel free to inspect him if you will."

As he looks down on Ptolemy, Yancy decides he'd like very much to inspect
him. However, he regrets that the slave is already naked. That's a pity as
Yancy would have enjoyed watching as Ptolemy "shucked of his togs". Still
Yancy looks over to where Luke stands still fully clothed. Perhaps, he'll
still get to see a white ordered to remove his clothes ready for a
"fingering". He hopes so!

"Charles, I'd like very much to inspect your property. He won't mind if I
do?"

"Not at all, Yancy. He's a slave and it's not his place to object. Ptolemy
will happily submit to your inspection. Isn't that so boy?"

"Yes Massa! I'm happy to have Sir Yancy inspect me Massa."

"Then up on your feet and present yourself for Sir Yancy's inspection."

"Yes Massa!"

Ptolemy hastily scrambles to his feet and presents his body for Sir Yancy's
inspection. He stands with his feet apart and the fingers of both hands
intertwined behind his head. Luke watches in fascination as Ptolemy
tightens his body's muscles so that each group stands out in sharp relief
and for the first time he appreciates the masculine beauty of his cousin's
fine physique. It's true that he's grown accustomed to Ptolemy's nakedness
- and greatly admired it - but seeing him present his body for Sir Yancy's
close quarter inspection redefines what he has already seen and for the
first time he appreciates why these inspections of a slave's body are so
popular with free men.

Sir Yancy's hand glide over Ptolemy's chest pausing just long enough to
pinch his prominent nipples into needle-point sharpness. Then they move
down over the flat plain of his belly to his hairless groin. Here they stop
to heft his balls and to test them for their heaviness. Next Sir Yancy
takes hold of the slave's cock and as he begins to slowly move his hand up
and down the stiffening shaft, Ptolemy's cock leaps into an instant
erection.

And as he watches, Luke's own cock responds likewise.

"Hair triggered isn't he Charles?"

Sir Yancy comments and for the first time that Luke can remember, his
former slave laughs loudly. Then, Luke remembers that his mother doesn't
allow unnecessary talking or jocularity among her household slaves and so
Nestor would never have laughed in the past.

"I have no complaints with him in that department, Yancy." Massa Charles
chuckles. "Nor in any other part of him I should add. He's pleases me and
meets all my needs most admirably."

Sir Yancy turns Ptolemy with his back to him and places his hands on the
slave's shoulders. His hands test the hard rounded balls of Ptolemy's
biceps and the thickness of the shoulder muscles before slowly moving down
over his back to the shapely curves of his ass.

Luke is aware of a widening, wet patch staining the front of his trousers
and he knows he is leaking copiously, He feels his undergarment adhering to
his lower belly and feels the sticky mess of his precum moistening his
pubes.

Sir Yancy plays with Ptolemy and takes a rounded ass-cheek in either hand
and gently squeezes them gauging both their strength and firmness. Then, he
remembers similar outrages forced on him by a white man and he takes great
pleasure that the tables have now been turned. With mounting confidence, he
orders Ptolemy to.

"Bend and spread them, boy!"

Ptolemy obeys immediately. He bends at the waist until his head is lowered
to knee height and, reaching behind, he parts his buttocks and presents his
anus for inspection.

Both Massa Charles and Luke watch Sir Yancy's fingering of Ptolemy
intently. Massa Charles approves of Sir Yancy's confident handling of his
slave. However, Luke's feeling are much more complex. He feels some
sympathy for the very public humiliation that Ptolemy is being subjected to
but then he reminds himself that it is of his own making. No one forced
Beauregard St Jean to become the slave, Ptolemy. That was his own choice.

Adding to Luke's confusion are his own frustrated feelings of longing and
need and as he watches Sir Yancy finger Ptolemy's puckering orifice, his
frustration grows more acute.

Next, Sir Yancy's finger traces over the two whip stripes on Ptolemy's
buttocks.

"These look very fresh, Charles. Did you put them there?"

"No Yancy, I didn't and they weren't there earlier. However, I did see them
as Ptolemy greeted me on the front porch and I will question him about them
during lunch." And Massa Charles adds ominously. "I intend to find out more
about them from his own lips."

Finally, Sir Yancy dismissively slaps Ptolemy's ass and orders him to face
the front. Then, drawing on the hateful memories of past experience, he
gently taps the side of Ptolemy's face and tells him to.

"Open wide! Wider yet! More yet! That's it! Good boy!"

Sir Yancy closely inspects the soundness of Ptolemy's teeth and the health
of his tongue. He remembers how these had greatly interested those who'd
inspected him. On one such occasion, the white man inspecting him had
crudely remarked.

"I always like to check out the soundness of a slave's mouth and the health
of his ass. If both are functioning as they should, then the slave has no
trouble eating and shitting and that always makes for a healthy slave."

And so it is with Ptolemy!  Sir Yancy's inspection of Ptolemy has
established that he is in superb condition and he is remarkably healthy.

"Charles, your slave and his cousin are remarkably similar in looks
wouldn't you agree?"

"Certainly Yancy. I would agree that the family resemblance is very
strong. Although the cousin is younger and his body is not yet as fully
developed. But that is something we'll explore together after lunch. But
for now we should eat. Tell me Ptolemy what is on the menu for lunch?"

"Massa, there's grilled catfish, deep fried gumbo on a bed of rice, corn on
the cob, black- eyed beans, freshly baked cornbread, melon and bread
pudding."

"Excellent! I don't know about you Yancy but I'm famished. It was hard work
getting the cotton loaded onto the barges; the slaves had to be driven hard
to keep to the schedule. But I forget my manners as a host. You'll need to
wash your hands after fingering Ptolemy."

Massa Charles turns and speaks sharply to the young fan-bearer.

"Zapthenath! Run to the kitchen and fetch hot water, soap and a clean towel
so that Sir Yancy can wash his hands before we eat. Well quickly now! And
don't dawdle boy, or you'll feel my strap on your ass. Hurry along!"

Then Massa Charles confides to Sir Yancy.

"Yancy, all white slaves are naturally lazy animals who can't think for
themselves. You need to rule them with fear to get the best from them. It's
been my experience that the fear of the cane and strap works wonders with
them. It focuses their minds on their duties. Bear that in mind while you
are here. If any of my slaves offend you in any way or if you have a
complaint to make regarding the performance of their duties please tell me
and I will punish them. Remember as my house-guest, my home is your home
and my slaves are your slaves.  Treat them as such, Yancy. But now, let's
get ready to eat."



To be continued.......