Date: Wed, 21 Dec 2011 19:09:57 -0500
From: lokiaga@austin.rr.com
Subject: Rue Dauphine 10

Rue Dauphine 10
Lance Kyle

The tangle of Scott, James, and Niobe was awakened the next morning by the
sound of chuckling coming not from them.  Rested from his ordeal, King
stood at the end of the bed, arms folded across his massive chest, a
morning erection half raising his massive tube of black meat above his
splendid, full ballsack.  King pulled down the sheets and slid into the
tangle, between Scott and Niobe, leaving James on Scott's other side.
Everyone was now fully awake and fully happy, grateful to have King
restored to the house where he belonged.  Kisses everywhere, pinches,
tweaks, sliding of palms along skin, pushing of rod-stiff penises into
bellies and pushing of buttocks into penises, the playful and increasingly
exciting swarm of bodies progressed, the participants getting hotter and
hotter.

And then with a sigh and a groan, Scott rolled James over the top of him to
put him next to King, the black boy's iron stiff plum black penis trailing
a little clear liquid across Scott's belly, and actually got out of bed,
standing by the side, his dusky rose penis at full staff.  His three black
slaves looked at him quizzically.

"I must...save myself...for what is to come," he said.  He dragged a small
chair to the bedside.  "But go ahead, please, I will watch."  The three
blacks nodded in agreement, although they wondered what he meant, and went
back to clutching, rubbing, squirming, kissing, and sucking.

Soon the young people had King on his back.  With his strong arms and wide
hands he slid Niobe up over his chest so that she squatted over his mouth,
knees on the bed on either side of his thick neck.  James for his part took
his post on his hands and knees over King's body, his mouth above King's
rampant black obelisk of a penis, his rounded black buttocks rubbing
against Niobe's.  With one hand King reached up to cup first one of Niobe's
round, taut breasts, with the other he reached around to grasp James's
penis and began pumping it slowly.  Niobe slid a bit forward and down and
then her vagina was kissing King's mouth, his full lips and tongue nibbling
and rubbing her clitoris.  The fourteen year old dark chocolate girl
grasped King's grey-flecked crinkly black hair for dear life as he rubbed
and sucked her.  But the large black slave himself had to keep his mind off
of what James was doing so that he did not climax too soon, for the
thirteen year old slave boy was sucking and pumping King's erect staff,
licking up and down its length, nibbling the bulbous tip with his full
purple brown lips, then taking the man's penis into his mouth as far as he
could and sucking.

Scott was beginning to think he would have to go take a shower if he wanted
to conserve his seed with this spectacle in front of him.  After a few
minutes of this Niobe cried out and began shuddering, her head wagging from
side to side, as a powerful orgasm rippled through her whole body.  As soon
as she was done, King gently tumbled the two slave children off of him to
arrange a new tableau.  He laid Niobe, still gasping and moaning, flat on
her back.  He took a position between her legs and then slipped his massive
black dick into her vagina.  Her recent orgasm made it easy to do.  King
looked at James, nodded at the goose grease pot, and then jerked his chin
toward his own backside.  James knew instantly what to do.  Procuring the
grease, the thirteen year old black boy hurriedly oiled the bulb of his own
stiff rod, then pushed some into the butt crack of the massive black man,
then took his position behind King and pushed his penis inside the man's
rectum.  King grunted once in response.

Now King slid forward and down, his thick thighs outside Niobe's, and he
squeezed her legs together to tighten her vagina's grip on his penis.  With
his elbows on the bed, he held himself up off of her grapefruit sized
breasts just enough to let her breath.  Niobe wrapped her arms around
King's back, clutching his shoulders, now his neck, now burying her fingers
in the crisp, crinkly wool of his hair.  James followed King's slide
forward and down and now rode atop the big man's rounded black buttocks
that thrust back and up.  With his arms he clutched the big black's
shoulders, now reached beneath to clutch his chest and tweak his nipples,
now reached down to rub Niobe's side and what he could reach of her breasts
beneath King's chest.

King set the pace, long leisurely pumps into the slave girl pinned beneath
him, while James followed, riding his bottom as if atop a black whale, the
boy's penis buried deep in his rectum.  The slow pace King took stretched
out everyone's pleasure, and he refused to increase the pace so as to make
them climax sooner.  Long minutes passed as King and James shared in the
slide, slide, slide, slide of the big man's rhythm.  All three were gasping
and moaning, desperate for release, but King refused any easy climax.  And
then when they all thought they could stand it no longer Niobe climaxed
again, throwing her head back with a guttural sound in her throat.  The
contractions of her vagina pushed King over the edge and he sent a torrent
of semen into her young vagina as he moaned loudly in Niobe's face.  The
clenching of his buttocks as he pushed his seed forward put a final
unbearable pressure on James, who now likewise bucked and spasmed and shot
his young sperm forward.  Scott, from his chair, could see the slab sided
buttocks of both black male slaves clench and unclench, the buttock muscles
tightening as each brought his orgasm home.  Niobe was simply buried
beneath the big black man above and inside her.

The three kept that position for a long time, recovering breath, then
shifting to rubbing and kissing, soft chuckles and groans escaping from
three throats.  Niobe looked over at her white master and invited him once
more to join them, but he shook his head.  He knew what he must do later
that day.  In their own time the three slaves on the bed uncoupled and
rose, and then all four went to the toilet and shower bath, King and Niobe
bathing together, then Scott and James, James being careful not to
stimulate his white master too much in the cleaning of his still erect
penis.

The four dressed and went downstairs, waiting while Niobe laid out a simple
breakfast.  They discussed plans for the day.  Scott simply told them that
at some point—he was not sure when—something momentous would happen
concerning LeRoc across the street.  The possibility of cleaning and
restoring the right wing was broached again, and all four declared it a
good idea.  Scott gently pressed King as to whether he agreed, but the big
man did.  And so right after breakfast Scott set out to go to
Mrs. L'Enfant's to engage her services with her crew.  Crossing Rue
Dauphine at the end of the block, he saw a small black boy dressed in
ragged but yet strange clothing walk down the street carrying an incense
pot, swinging it with vigor as he passed LeRoc's house, the incense rolling
off in clouds.  Scott went on his way and soon negotiated terms with
Mrs. L'Enfant.  He asked that she bring as much help as she could, for he
wished the wing restored quickly, and she agreed.  Returning, he was about
to turn down the alley for his kitchen door—he did not like to be in the
street in front of LeRoc's, under the circumstances—when he witnessed
the spectacle of three dog couples copulating in the gutter—right in
front of LeRoc's.  Smiling broadly, he realized that all he had seen had
been part of the queens' preparations.  He likewise knew that the final act
would depend on the magic of the ring in concert with their skills.

His three slaves were going about their business with household matters,
and Scott had been studying the book in the kitchen, when he heard the
sound of a wagon drawing up in the alley.  Opening the back door he
admitted Mrs. L'Enfant and her crew.  After some consultation they decided
to go in the reverse direction from their cleaning of the left wing, to
begin by clearing out the rubbish and stored items from the attic.  Scott
said he would look over what they brought down, and placed in the wagon,
but he felt sure they could have the items for themselves or sell them.
The crew was delighted at this arrangement and went to work.  Scott went to
find King.

"King, Mrs. L'Enfant's crew is here and is beginning work on the attic in
the right wing," he said.  "Would you...would you like to clear out the
refuse from the cellar?  To make it tidy at least for...for my uncle's
rest?"  King thought for a moment and then agreed wholeheartedly, but he
asked Scott's permission to be the only one to enter the cellar room fully.
Scott agreed.  And so the two, borrowing one member of Mrs. L'Enfant's
team, went into the ballroom and opened the secret door.  Bidding their
assistant wait, Scott and King went down the steps to the cellar where
Scott unlocked the door and set a lit lantern just inside the door, to the
side.  The flowers on the coffin were as fresh as when they were placed
there, and a faint smell of roses lingered in the air.

Now they followed a system whereby King hauled out boxes, old furniture,
and detritus up the cellar steps and left them in the ballroom.  His
powerful physique was easily able to manage lugging the weighty items up
the stairs.  From the ballroom Scott and their assistant worked to carry
the material out through the kitchen building and onto the wagon.  Scott
inspected each box, each item, but found little of value to keep.  After a
couple of hours of this work, they were done.  King called softly to Scott
to come down with the keys.  King held the lantern up for Scott to see: the
room was tidy and bare except for the coffin and its flowers.  King and
Scott smiled at each other; the cleanup gave an air of simple dignity to
Balthazar's resting place.  They left the room, Scott locking the door,
went up the stairs and closed the secret door behind them.  They feared
nothing from the assistant's knowledge of the door; New Orleans houses were
likely full of such contrivances, and the fellow made no mention of it.

Scott, King, James and Niobe met again in the kitchen for lunch, even
though a steady stream of workers filed through with things cleared out of
the right wing attic.  Scott sent them all on their way to the wagon, not
wishing to keep anything, and soon the crew was done and ready to renovate
the second floor.  The four of them finished lunch and then hurried up to
the right wing second floor, where Mrs. L'Enfant's tireless crew was
already throwing open shuttered windows and preparing for a thorough
restoration, then up the narrow stairs to the attic.  It was completely
bare, clean, and a fresh breeze blew through the open dormer windows.  The
scent of soap filled the space.  They talked about possible uses for the
space, but for now agreed that its cleanliness and simplicity were
beautiful, and they went back downstairs, the servants to be about their
chores, Scott to study the book, fingering the ring all the time.

In less than an hour Niobe opened the door of the library where Scott
worked and ushered in Mama Désirée, resplendent in her multicolored robes
and a turban.  King and James hovered behind, sensing that affairs had come
to a crisis.  Mama Désirée cackled once as Scott rose to greet her, then
she gestured with a grand flourish in the direction of the street.

"It is time," she simply said.  The four members of the household rushed to
peer out of curtains into the street, left and right.  The street seemed
oddly empty, but at each end of the block they saw the silent figure of a
woman dressed like Mama Désirée, simply standing in readiness, each with
one arm extended in the direction of LeRoc's house.  Scott nodded and then
looking around the entry way to the central wing, he spoke to King, James,
and Niobe.

"Madame and I will go to one of the bedrooms in the left wing.  Nobody is
to follow us, nobody is to enter that wing.  When I come out, do not speak
to me, do not follow me.  Do not go into the left wing then.  You will
understand everything soon."  The three nodded, but they seemed fearful of
what was to pass.  Then Scott stood and put on his ring, leaving the book
on the desk; he had studied it enough for the task at hand.  Extending an
elegant elbow to Mama Désirée, he led the way up the stairs and into the
left wing, closing the door to the wing behind him.  Scott led her into the
first bedroom on the left and closed the door.  He pulled back the covers
of the bed and then began disrobing.  Mama Désirée did the same.  Now fully
naked, they stood regarding each other.

Scott took a step forward and took both the woman's hands in his.  Her dark
body had a paunch belly, sagging dessicated dugs, wiry hair in tufts, and
wrinkles upon wrinkles.  But he knew it was important that he do what he
was about to do with HER, not with some fantasy he projected upon her.
Queen Victoria on her wedding night was advised to close her eyes and think
of England.  Scott did not have that luxury. But he earnestly LOOKED at the
old woman, and in some sense he could see the beautiful and shapely brown
girl she once had been.

He motioned to her to lie on the bed, and she did. He waved his hand that
wore the ring up and down the length of her body, repeating a formula.
Crawling next to her he crouched and began running that hand up and down
over her withered flesh.  She in her turn grasped his still flaccid
penis—goodness, this was going to be difficult—and began fondling it.
Then she sat back up and began sucking it.  And Papa Legba be praised, it
worked!  Not once did Scott take his eyes off of her, and when his staff
was hard enough, he crawled in between her legs and pushed in.

Fifteen minutes later Scott Barnes walked out of the left wing and down the
stairs, clutching a Greek dictionary.  He spoke not a word to his
housemates as he put on his coat and hat, and opened the front door.  King,
James, and Niobe huddled nearby in great fear; they knew something
tremendous was happening.  The stood at the partially opened door to the
street to see what was transpiring as their master exited.  Scott walked
across the street and knocked on LeRoc's door.  He knocked again.  From the
house one could see the two old women step out into the middle of Rue
Dauphine at either end of the block.

The door opened a crack, and then fully and LeRoc stood there, dressed as a
Chinese emperor for all anyone could tell.  "I have come to give you this,"
said Scott, handing LeRoc the dictionary with his left hand, which the old
man took.  "And also this," said Scott, stepping forward one step into the
entryway to LeRoc's house.  With his right hand he cupped the back of
LeRoc's neck and pulled the old man forward.  Scott covered LeRoc's mouth
completely with a kiss.  The old man gave a muffled series of cries, first
of protest, then of surprise, then of delight as Scott maintained the long
kiss.  Then Scott stepped back, releasing the book, as LeRoc leered at him
in passion.

And then from across the street the housemates could see LeRoc's expression
turn to one of horror and could hear a strangled cry escape his lips.  For
Scott's face turned first into a mist and then into that of a brown old
woman.  Scott's clothing turned into a colorful dress, his hat into a
decorated turban.  The apparition took two more steps back, across the
threshold and into the street, and a banshee cry of delight and victory
rose from its lips.  LeRoc could only stare in horror as the figure of the
woman pulled up her long dress, as he saw her withered flanks and aged
vagina, as he saw—horrors!—a man's semen pour down out of the vagina,
turning to smoke and flames as it ran down her legs.

LeRoc's attention was immediately distracted by what he held in his hand,
for the dictionary had turned into a skein of twisted organic material,
looking old and fetid beyond belief.  He made as if to fling it from his
hand, but it would not go.  Instead, the talisman appeared to be sending
roots down through his arm, now his torso, now his legs, down into the
floor and into the deep earth beneath that.  LeRoc screamed and writhed
while the woman's figure, now two steps beyond the door and in the street,
cackled with glee.  Then the vision of roots disappeared, as did the
talisman.  His face twisted with rage, LeRoc rushed toward the door, intent
on strangling the woman where she stood.  But some kind of barrier blocked
him at the door.  He could not exit, push as he might.  He ran to a nearby
window, threw it open, and raised his skinny leg as if to go out the
window, but encountered the same barrier.  In short, he was sealed within
the house.

Mama Désirée, for that was who the woman just outside the doorway was, now
turned and hurried back to Scott's house.  "Come!" was all she said as she
pushed her way in, scrabbling in a pocket of her coat for one or two
objects that she withdrew.  King, James, and Niobe followed her, full of
wonder and fear, as she took the staircase two stairs at a time and charged
into the left wing, then into the bedroom.  On the bed lay Scott Barnes,
naked, either dead or in a deep sleep.  He still wore his ring.  Mama
Désirée cupped her items in both hands and made several passes over Scott's
body, pausing to spit onto his naked torso three times.  Scott gasped and
shuddered, but did not awake.

"We must move him to his own bed now," she said.  King pushed his way
forward, tears starting in his eyes, and scooped the naked white man up by
himself in his powerful arms and led the way back into the central wing and
to Scott's bedroom.  Mama Désirée stayed back but a moment, though, and
pointed at the sheets upon which Scott had lain.  "Destroy these," she
said.  James and Niobe instantly sprang to obey, but paused in horror as
they saw that the sheets were blackened—and not with sweat or dirt, but
with fire.  Together they stripped the sheets from the bed and rushed them
to the kitchen fireplace, where they stuffed them in, an acrid smoke
rushing up from the burning fabric and out the chimney.  Luckily
Mrs. L'Enfant's workmen were all occupied in the right wing and saw nothing
of these events.

Niobe and James hurried back up to Scott's bedroom where they saw King on
his knees by the bed, chafing the white man's hand, while Mama Désirée
stood at the foot of the bed moving her hands slowly and chanting.  Scott's
breathing was labored and he did not wake.  But after some long minutes of
these ministrations his breathing returned to normal and it appeared as if
he simply slept, deeply.

Mama Désirée ceased her gestures and chanting.  "He will recover, but he
must rest, and he will be very weak," she said.  Then a half smile crossed
her lips and she laid a hand gently on the foot of Scott; did some old and
pleasant memories cross her mind, awakened by the intentional and focused
sexual gratification she had received from the eighteen year old white man
that afternoon?  King pulled covers up over Scott and then bent over and
kissed him lightly on the forehead and both cheeks.  He followed the rest
of the group out into the hallway.

"And now," said Mama Désirée, "you will see that we are not heartless to
leave Mr. LeRoc trapped inside his house with no servant.  I am sending
him...a replacement."  And she led the way to the doors that opened onto
the porch above the street.

Across the way they could see a figure rushing about inside the house,
trying to gain an exit from any window, howling as he went, but with no
success.  And then they noticed down below in the street a figure shuffling
along, a man of average height, dressed in ragged clothes.  "Bertrand,"
breathed Mama Désirée.  "Now you see that I make a bad enemy."  King,
James, and Niobe crowded the railing to look hard at this figure, and then
started backwards in horror.  For the ashen sheen to the otherwise brown
complexion, the bits of leaves and grass matted in his shock of wooly hair,
and the blank expression in his eyes told them what he was.  "A zombie!"
cried King, unable to help himself.  James and Niobe shuddered and huddled
close to his side.  "Yes," cackled Mama Désirée.  "Do you think Mr. LeRoc
will want to have THIS one to bed?" and she threw her head back and
cackled.  The zombie shuffled up the block and stopped at LeRoc's door,
knocking.  A few minutes later the door opened a crack.  They heard a cry
from within, but the zombie had pushed the door open forcibly and shuffled
in.  The door slammed behind him with a bang.

Mama Désirée turned away from the porch and went back into the house.  "I
have spoken to some tradesmen who are willing to delivery food and take
away laundry," she said.  "That should suffice."  More shouting had begun
in the house across the street, and King and the young people hurried in,
not wanting to witness any more.

She turned to the group.  "My friends and I must go.  We will return
tomorrow.  Keep watch on him.  If he seems in distress, place this on his
chest," she said, removing a muddy looking stone from a bag and handing it
to King.  Then with no further ado she swept down the stairs, out the front
door, and being instantly joined by the other two weird women, made her way
down the street toward home.

The three kept close watch on their master through the rest of the day and
into the night.  Mrs. L'Enfant's crew quit for the day exiting down the
hallway outside the bedroom door, but they were soon gone.  The muddy
looking stone sat on a bedside table, but Scott slept deeply and
quietly. He kept his hand clutched tightly around the ring.  Nobody tried
to rouse him.  Niobe brought some food for supper up to the second floor
where they ate quietly in chairs around Scott's bed, watching for any sign
of distress.  Once night had fallen and they had locked the house up tight,
they took turns keeping watch while the others slept in the neighboring
bedroom.  It seemed like a long night, but a spirit of peace appeared to
have descended on the house, indeed the whole neighborhood.

Morning found Niobe and King wrapped around each other in the next door
bedroom; but nobody had had the heart for sex.  They were just stirring
when they heard footsteps in the hallway.  James, naked, appeared around
the corner of the door—and then pulled Scott in after him.  The naked
white man grinned sheepishly and was still rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
King and Niobe sprang up, also naked, and guided him to sit on the edge of
the bed.  All three of them found some part of him to pet and fondle: Niobe
squatted behind and rubbed his shoulders, King and James a leg and arm on
either side of him.

Then Scott shook his head and seemed more alert.  "Did...did it succeed?"
he asked.  King, Niobe, and James all talked at once, giving him every
detail of what they had seen and heard, from Mama Désirée crossing the
street in the guise of Scott himself, to the arrival of the zombie, to
LeRoc's enraged cries and fruitless attempts to leave the house.  Scott
listened intently, then opened his hand that still held the ring.  "It
worked," he breathed, and whispering some Latin under his breath he set the
ring down on the bedside table.  "I want to wash," he said.

All three led him gently to the shower bath.  Sitting on the toilet first,
he discharged a rush of black diarrhea down the shaft, feeling better
immediately.  Then into the shower, where first one and then another of his
slaves, as many as could reach an arm in, soaped and scrubbed him.  They
could see him returning to normal.  They could especially see normality in
the return of an erection, as his morning erection, delayed by deep sleep,
finally arrived.  They pulled him from the shower and dried him and then
led him back to his bedroom.

Niobe and James leapt upon the bed and squatted there, her girlish breasts
held high and taut, James's purple black erection bobbing.  Scott stood by
the bed admiring the grinning youngsters while King stood behind him,
pressing his own massive erection into the small of Scott's back, his
massive chocolate arms around the white man's chest.  "What you want ta do,
Masta?" asked Niobe, in eagerness.  In answer Scott spread his arms and
scooped the black slave girl and boy into them, hugging them tightly while
King did the same to him from behind.  Then he thought a moment and said,
"Niobe, lie on your back, please."

She obeyed.  Scott positioned James just between her legs, and then climbed
up just behind James.  There was room for King to kneel on the foot edge of
the bed just behind him, King's feet on the floor.  Then there began
delighted fondling, cupping of chests and breasts in palms, pressing of
rampant erect penises into backs and buttocks, onto rounded
bellies—kisses and nibblings, with giggles every time someone fell to
the side from overreaching and had to be pulled back in place by the
others.  Soon everyone was panting with heavy breath, and it was time to
begin.  Scott reached for the goose grease.  He placed some into James's
dark, firm, rounded buttocks and then reached back and put some into his
own anus.  He greased the bulb of his penis and, reaching back, did the
same for King.  James needed no lubrication, as a silver dribble of clear
liquid was pooling down from his rampant penis into Niobe's pubic hair.
Then Scott gently pushed James down and into Niobe, and spreading the slave
boy's buttocks he slowly entered him, the boy gasping and shuddering, but
he was successful.  Scott knew he need not coach King, and the black man's
assault was not long in coming.  Slowly but forcefully he pushed his
massive black rod into the white man's anus.  Scott cried out and King
whispered "Masta? Want me to stop?" urgently, but Scott shook his head no,
and the black man was soon landed entirely.

It was the randy thirteen year old boy James who set the pace, for he began
a short stroke into Niobe, kissing her breasts and rubbing her face and
hair, pushed down as he was by the two men behind him.  Scott responded,
indeed having little choice but to take short strokes, sandwiched as he was
between James and the older black slave behind him.  King followed suit, in
part from a desire to discomfit Scott no more than necessary.  Breathing
grew heavy, short strokes picked up in pace, arms and hands fondled and
stroked sides, chests, breasts, backs, and legs, the legs themselves
thrashed and locked into each other.  Push push push push and then James
climaxed first, throwing his head back with a roar and clenching his
buttocks to shoot his thirteen year old African semen into the slave girl
beneath him.  The pressure of James's orgasm brought Scott to an instant
climax, and moaning and gasping he now sent a torrent of his white sperm
into the black slave boy in front of him.  And as you have guessed, the
clench of his buttocks brought King to his finish, the big slave roaring,
digging into the floor with his legs off the edge of the bed and pushing
everyone ahead of him forward as a flood of his African sperm filled the
white man in front of him.  And then from her quick gasps and "Oh! Oh!"
they could tell that Niobe as well had climaxed.  All four gradually
settled into calmer breath, and one by one they peeled off to the side,
some on top of the others, to enjoy a sweet tangle of kisses, hugs, and
yes, tears.  After long minutes they rose and returned to the shower room,
using the toilet hole, and washing thoroughly.

Scott asked Niobe to make a special meal in preparation for the later
arrival of Mama Désirée and her friends.  They came about lunch time.
Scott greeted her warmly, and they looked at each other in silence for a
moment.  The others thought they saw the littlest bit of coquetry in her
eyes, and Scott leaned over and kissed her on the forehead, which brought
gasps from Mama Désirée's friends but she dismissively waved them off.
Scott invited them in to lunch, and as it was clear that he was leading
them to the formal dining room, Mama Désirée looked at him in wonder.
Niobe had in the short time allotted her indeed prepared a wonderful lunch,
and everyone sat around the table in a lighthearted mood, in a room filled
with light.  Scott was sure he smelled roses at one point.  Looking at
King, the large man nodded a yes and wiped what may or may not have been a
tear from his eye.  Scott raised his glass: "To peace in Rue Dauphine, and
to us all!"  And everyone gave the same to one and all.


And so concludes this collection for the time being.  I'm taking a break
for the holidays and to let the characters and situation speak to me about
what they may want to do next.  Thanks for all the kind and generous
comments and suggestions.  lokiaga@austin.rr.com