Date: Wed, 26 May 2004 15:22:39 -0700 (PDT)
From: Lance Kyle <lokiaga@prodigy.net>
Subject: Seaward Plantation chapter five

This story contains graphic but completely fictional
depictions of sex among men and men, and men and underage
boys and a girl.  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 five

The first rays of an early sunrise broke through shreds of
cloud that were clearing from the sky over Seaward
Plantation.  Yesterday's storm had passed, leaving clear,
clean air.  Early morning light crept into the only occupied
bedroom on the second floor of the main, stone house of the
plantation, slowly washing over the two figures who lay
entwined there.

Mark Appleby and his black slave, Troy, lay in a comfortable
tangle of limbs.  Deep chocolate brown and lighter tanned
white and pink arms, legs, and flesh made a pleasing
contrast in the gathering light.  A bottle of Napoleon
brandy, one fourth gone, sat on a bedside table, while two
empty snifters had rolled from the covers onto the braided
rug and under the four-poster bed in the night.

The twenty-five year old master and his twenty year old
slave awoke slowly with small movements of stretching,
yawns, and sighs.  Rising into consciousness, each
remembered where he was and the passionate embraces of the
night before, discovered with pleasure that his partner was
still close by, that their arms and legs were still wrapped
around each other.  Blinking awake, lying side by side
facing each other, they looked into each other's eyes in
silence for a moment.

"'Morning, Master Mark," said the male slave, his dark face
breaking into a grin showing perfect white teeth.

"'Morning, Slave Troy," returned his master, and both men
broke into soft laughter, both conscious of the absurdity of
their unequal legal status in contrast to the intimate
relationship formed last night.  Snuggling closer, they
rubbed noses, brushed lips, touched foreheads together.
Appleby lifted his head and moved even closer to lay his
cheek on top of the smooth, dark chocolate cheek of his
slave.  Holding each other peacefully, each felt the
inevitable rise in his own penis and in the organ of his
lover.  One swelling encouraged another, and soon two rigid
cocks stretched against each other between the two men,
pointing straight up in a line between them.  Moaning with
soft pleasure, Appleby shifted his arms to go around the
neck and back of the black man, pulling the two closer
together, while Troy slowly pumped both cocks together, his
big brown hand encircling both.

The pleasurable moment did not last.  Raising his head to
listen, Appleby thought he heard a sound from downstairs, in
what he thought was an otherwise empty house.  Now sure that
he heard a soft human voice, he started up.  "Wha'?" asked
Troy, disappointed, looking searchingly into his master's
medium brown eyes.

"Someone is downstairs," said Appleby.  "Wait here, I'll go
see."

The room temperature was pleasant as Appleby sprang from
bed.  In the increasing light he found his trousers and drew
them quickly on, leaving his underwear and shirt on the
floor where they had been fallen in haste the night before.
He padded down the hallway and stood at the top of the
stairs, listening.  Now he could distinctly hear soft,
careful footsteps, and a low masculine voice calling "Troy?
Troy!" outside the library at the other end of the
downstairs hallway.  Soundlessly, Appleby walked down the
stairs and turned down the hall.  In the darker hallway, he
could just make out Hector, the fourteen year old brother of
Troy, who was standing in the hallway and peering into the
library, calling his brother.

"Hector!" Appleby said, softly so as not to startle the boy.
Nevertheless, the dark brown boy jumped and turned, gasping.

"Master Mark!  you scared me," he exclaimed.  "I was... this
morning... uh, do you know where Troy is, Master Mark?  He
said he was going to sleep in the barn, but he wasn't there
this morning.  I've looked everywhere."  A look of real
concern crossed his handsome young face.

"Oh, he's here, he spent the night upstairs in one of the
bedrooms," replied Appleby, walking up the hallway.  "He's
fine."  Hector's relief at this good news warred with
astonishment that even as open and accepting a white man as
Master Mark would put a slave up in a spare bedroom.

Appleby came close to the boy and put a comforting hand on
his shoulder.  "He's alright, really," he said, giving the
young slave a gentle squeeze on the shoulder.  Hector was
momentarily lost in the sight of his master's bare torso,
looking medium tan and dusky in the dark hallway.  Memories
of yesterday's sweet coupling flooded back.   Appleby pulled
the boy to him, who turned to press the soft black skin of
his cheek against the man's chest.  They hugged
affectionately, then Appleby planted a quick kiss on top of
the boy's kinky head and, lifting his face, on his full
lips.

"Do you want to come up and see him?" he asked.  Hector
nodded agreement quickly, and so the two walked upstairs,
Appleby with his arm draped lightly over the boy's
shoulders.  Reaching the top of the stairs, Appleby gestured
to the open door on the left.  "That's my room," he said.

His interest piqued, Hector stepped just inside the door.
"Oh!" he said in surprise, looking around.  "Your bed is....
it's so, uh, neat," he said, his dark skin turning darker as
he blushed.  Appleby suddenly realized how incongruous was
the neat appearance of his own room and his just-got-up
appearance.  There was nothing to do but show the boy to his
brother's bedroom, however, since they had come this far.

"Troy is over here," Appleby said, crossing the hall.
Hector walked into the bedroom.  His brother, who had been
dozing, started up, half-sitting in bed, supporting himself
on one hand, the sheets just covering his naked groin.
"Oh... hey, Hector, is anything wrong?"

"No, nothing wrong, I went to tell you that Athena and the
child had a restful night but couldn't find you in the barn
so I......" the boy's voice trailed off as he looked around
the room at the rumbled bed, the liquor bottle and empty
glasses..... and at his master's shirt and underwear cast
carelessly on the floor.  He stared at them for a moment,
then at his master, and said, "Master Mark, isn't that your
shirt and...." then stopped short, realizing what he was
implying.... indeed, realizing what the plain truth must be.

"Yes, Hector, those are mine," said Appleby, coming up
beside the boy and putting his arm around him, hugging him
affectionately.  The boy stared open-mouthed at his master,
at his brother in the bed, at the piled clothes.  Sensing
his younger brother's confusion, Troy threw back the sheets
and uncoiled himself from the bed, the powerful muscles of
his sleek, dark body moving with a fluid power.  He took two
steps and put his arm around the boy on the other side from
his master.  "Are you alright, Hector?  Are you alright
with.... with this?" he asked his brother.

Hector thought for a moment, then shook his head "yes"
vigorously and rested his head against his master's chest.
"Yes," he whispered through half-parted lips.  "Yes, yes,
yes."  His naked older brother pulled in closer, putting his
other arm around the bare shoulders of his master, making a
tight circle.  Hector looked from the naked body of his
brother to the half naked body of his master and grinned.
Reaching over quickly, he tugged on the waist of his
master's trousers, which dropped to the floor.  He raised
his head from his master's chest to smile into the white
man's face, then to grin at his brother.  Breaking away from
the two men, Hector took a step back and wriggled out of
first his shirt and then his pants, dropping them to the
floor.  He kicked away the rough shoes he wore, and then in
one gesture undid his thin loincloth and cast it aside.  His
inky dark penis sprang out, already fully erect, and now
standing stiff out in front of him.

Hector pushed back into a tight circular embrace with his
brother and his white master.  Three erect cocks met in the
circle:  Troy's huge organ, ten inches long at rest, had
grown by two inches and had swollen in thickness.  The
reddish brown head of his dick pushed out now beyond its
purple black hood of skin.  Hector's eight inch dick was a
slightly smaller copy of his brother's except it curved down
a little at the end when fully erect.  Mark Appleby felt no
embarrasment at his own seven inches, now grown in a rigid
erection.  The two men and boy delighted in bouncing
slightly on the balls of their feet to make their penises
slap and slide with one another.  Bright, glistening threads
of precum hung from cock to cock and dribbled down to the
floor.

Pulling each other in tight, arms clutched the slippery
muscles of sweaty shoulder blades, hands dug into ass cheeks
and cupped whole buttocks, caressed the taught abdominal
muscles above the hips.  Appleby was beside himself.  As he
turned to kiss and bite one nearly black earlobe he felt
thick, moist lips on the other side of him take the skin of
his neck into a gentle bite.  As he turned to that side to
suck whole, fruity lips into his mouth he felt his nipple on
the other side being bitten by a slave whose jet-black,
solid cap of kinky hair brushed his neck and chin.

Appleby slid to his knees, his arms holding tight to the
muscled ridge of a dark chocolate hip on either side of him.
A few seconds of bobbing after the waving shafts in front of
him, and some helpful maneuvering by his slaves, put both of
the black hoses in his mouth.  They would not go in far
together, but he could suck the heads into his mouth,
mashing them together in the warm cavity, running his tongue
over the sensitive top of each glans which made the blacks
moan and buckle their knees in pleasure.  Appleby rose and
returned his own organ to the mix, swallowing precum.  Troy
saw what he must do and dropped to his own knees, taking his
master's now deep purple, dusky penis and his brother's
ebony shaft into his mouth and performing the same service.
Then he stood and Hector gamely fell to his knees, capturing
his brother's monstrous black penis and his master's rigid
cock in his mouth and sucking.

As soon as Hector rose, swallowing precum, a thin line of
clear drool running down his chin, Troy turned his head to
survey the room quickly, then looked at his master and
smiling said, "Soap."  "Soap?" asked Hector, puzzled.
"Soap!" explaimed Appleby, catching the inspiration.

Troy sprang into action, breaking away from the group and
dunking last night's bar of soap into the nearby basin of
cloudy water.  Hector, pulling himself tight to his master's
side, saw what he intended to do, and a powerful look of
naked desire came into his eyes.  The soap well softened,
Troy thought for a moment, and then made a decision to do
something, to accept something, he had never accepted
before.  He knelt before his white master and began
lathering the rigid red cock of the white man.  Appleby
closed his eyes in ecstatic anticipation and began caressing
the crisp, kinky hair of his black slave.  Troy beckoned his
brother to him and soaped up the boy's penis as well, Hector
pushing his organ back and forth slightly in his brother's
slippery grasp.  Troy reached back behind himself, in
between his thickly muscled buttocks, and lubricated his
brown, wrinkled asshole, sliding his finger inside to loosen
it.  He looked up at the white man and black boy with an
inquiring look.  Understanding what was being asked, Appleby
turned around and bent over, exposing his own pink, puckered
hole, which Troy also lubricated, pushing a finger inside.

Wordlessly, his preparations finished, Troy climbed onto the
bed and knelt in the middle of it, sticking his hard,
prominent buttocks in the air, elbows on the sheets, head
down and resting against the wooden headboard.  Appleby was
right behind him.  He positioned the head of his slippery
cock at Troy's hole and gently pushed.  A moment of
resistance caused Troy, utterly unused to the experience, to
cry out.  Then with a pop the white man was in.  Troy gasped
and caught his breath as the long, white penis slowly moved
all the way in until the master's fluffy brown pubic hair
was mashed against his bottom.  Appleby leaned over his
slave and put his hands on the black man's shoulders, then
looked at Hector and nodded.  Mouth slack with anticipation,
Hector climbed onto the bed behind his master.  He placed
the reddish brown head of his organ at his master's rectal
opening and pushed.  Loosened by last night's coitus with
Troy's huge black cock, the white man's hole opened easily.
Hector was all the way in before he knew it, scrambling to
push himself forward on his knees as his master gasped.

The white man set the pace for his two chocolate dark
slaves.  As he pumped forward, Hector pulled back until only
the head of his cock remained inside his master.  When
Appleby pulled back most of the way out of Troy, Hector
slammed forward all the way to his nest of black pubic hair.
Reaching around the black slave in front of him, Appleby
grasped the huge black sausage with one hand while with the
other he kept his balance by clutching the slave's muscular
shoulders.  Appleby pumped Troy's penis in time to the
rhythm that he set.  The bed nearly bounced with the
rhythmic pounding of the two men and boy.

Hector was the first to come.  "Ah, no!  Ah master!  Oh,
sweet, Oh, la! Ah, help me, yes, yes yes!" he shouted
incoherently, repeating meaingless phrases as his whole body
arched, pulling his master's hips back into his exploding
groin, pumping and pausing, pumping and pausing, until the
waves of the orgasm passed.  He slumped over his master's
back, holding on by clasping him around the belly, unwilling
to let go, gasping for air.  Despite Hector's spasms,
Appleby never let go of Troy's huge penis, however, and
pumped it rhythmically, squeezing it hard with his right
hand. Troy's oak-hard thighs began to quiver, then to shake.
Then his ass muscles tightened, launching his orgasm. Troy's
penis erupted in sprays of white semen that shot out onto
the pillow, bed, and headboard in front of him.  Troy's
clenching and unclenching of his buttocks to squeeze out the
splashes of cum tightened the pressure on Appleby's penis,
which gave the white master an exquisite wave of pleasure
that pushed him into his own eruption.  Appleby shouted
Troy's name over and over, grinding into the black slave's
ass as hard as he could.  Pulling back out, he slammed
forward again violently, expelling long ropes of semen into
the slave beneath him.  As Appleby climaxed with a roar he
fell hard against the back of Troy even as Hector held on
tight to the white man's back, gasping,

The men and boy collapsed in a heap, each one coming apart
from another with sucking and plopping sounds.  A tangle of
dark chocolate and tanned white skin covered the bed.
Rapid, gasping breathing filled the air.  Moment by moment,
though, peace returned to the scene.  Stillness gave way to
hands reaching out for hands to hold, and gasping for breath
gave way to expressions of tenderness and pleasure, the
calling of another's name softly:  "Master Mark!"  "Oh,
Troy."  "Ah, Hector, come here."  And those whisperings gave
way to joy, to throaty laughter, to mocking impersonations
of "Soap?"  "Soap!"  Laughing, slapping each other's thighs
and buttocks, the three rose from the bed, stretched, and
surveyed the scene.  The strong, musky scent of semen mixed
with soap and sweat in the room.

"Let's.... let's make Pan and Bacchus clean this up," said
Appleby, and Troy and Hector roared with laughter, agreeing
with their master.  But although still early, the morning
was moving on and each had his own business to attend to.
The three agreed on a quick bath.  Hector ran ahead to pump
and heat water, while Appleby and Troy gathered up a few
clothes and the snifters and opened the windows to air the
room.  The brandy they left by the bed on the table.

The black man and boy and the white master each felt happy
pleasure at seeing each other take turns in the tub, at
seeing how water glistened on light or dark skin, changing
the contours of muscles.  But the sun was up and there was
work to be done, so they finished their baths, toweled
themselves and each other, and dressed for the day.  Appleby
shaved at a basin and mirror in the corner of the bath room
as his black slaves, who did not need to do so yet, looked
closely in wonder and delight.  Bread and fruit in the
pantry, brought there during the storm the previous evening,
provided breakfast for all of them.  Then the Africans went
out to their work, while Appleby worked in the study writing
more letters, consulting some of the many reference books
there, and reading the mail from two days before.

Late in the morning, the thirteen year old twins Pan and
Bacchus came bursting into the house through the pantry door
in their usual high spirits.  Appleby met them in the
hallway where they ran to him and embraced him tightly.

"Oh, Master Mark, we missed you so much!" said Bacchus,
"Athena and the baby--they haven't named her yet--are doing
well" continued Pan, "but Mama Juno says we can't come back
here for a few days yet," said Bacchus, "can you do without
us?" finished Pan.

By answer Appleby roughly and playfully rubbed their kinky
peppercorn hair and bent down to plant kisses on their wide,
trumpet shaped lips.   "Boys, Troy slept here last night,"
he said, uttering the bare truth.  "His room needs cleaning
and a fresh fire laid.  He will be staying here while Athena
recovers."  The boys whistled low at the news in wonder,
then considered that they had spent some nights in the main
house, so they supposed that Troy was entitled to the same.
Agreeing, they scampered upstairs.  Returning to the study,
Appleby smiled to himself as the sound of pattering
footsteps upstairs told the tale.  First, into his room, and
a low muffled sound of exclamation.  Then across the hall to
find and enter Troy's room.  Silence.  Some animated, low
voices.  Then some whoops of laughter and the sound of two
boys jumping on the sticky bed.  Appleby continued working
in the study until he heard the twins come down the stairs,
their chores upstairs completed.  He met them in the
hallway; they were loaded down with laundry.

"We cleaned your room up, Master Mark," said Pan.  "Troy's,
too," said Bacchus, and both boys hung their heads to hide
smiles, suppressing giggles and exchanging sidelong glances.
"We're taking Troy's sheets to be washed," continued
Bacchus, "but yours don't need to be," said Pan, pointedly.
Smiling indulgently, Appleby slapped each one playfully on
the rear and gave a packet of letters to the boys, asking
them to give them to Troy for the mail boat.  They agreed to
do so and scampered out of the house.

Appleby spent the rest of the morning with papers and
records in the study, then he examined the books in the
library.  It was not terribly large but was adequate, and
contained a well balanced array on many subjects.  He noted
with interest that his Aunt Lucy must have kept it as
current as her tastes and purse allowed, and he vowed to
keep up that practice.

Before investigating the pantry to see what might be there
for lunch, Appleby felt the call of nature and walked out
across the lawn to the nearby outhouse.  Both doors, to the
men's and women's sides, stood ajar.  Entering the men's
side, he pulled shut the door with the shape of the sun cut
out of the wood, pulled down his trousers and underwear, and
settled over one of the two holes cut in the wide, rough
plank seat.  The place had a definite odor to it but its
open construction in the back and the day's fresh sea breeze
kept it from being positively unpleasant.  Appleby examined
a stack of weathered old newspapers kept in a corner of the
stall for purposes of hygiene.  The dates on them confirmed
their appearance, they had been there for years.  He was
glad he had ordered subscriptions of fresh newspapers to be
sent by the mail boat, even if it would take a week for any
news to reach him.

Glancing at the ancient headlines on one, Appleby heard
footsteps approaching the building.  As they came nearer, it
was plain that they were headed for the men's side.  The
door opened and in stepped Priam, blinking in the deep gloom
of the outhouse.  Momentarily blinded by the shade, and not
expecting anyone else, the fifty year old father of Hector
and Troy had unfastened the cord holding his rough breeches
up when with a start he saw his master sitting on one of the
two holes, his pants down around his ankles.

"Beg pardon, Master Mark, I'll... I'll come back later.
Should I come back later?"  Priam seemed unusually
indecisive, as if unsure which would give greater offense,
fleeing the outhouse at the sight of his master or sitting
down and defecating next to him. "No, Priam, stay, please!"
said Appleby.  "There is room for two," he added humorously,
indicating the adjoining hole with a flourish.  Moving
slowly, as if still unsure, Priam untied the cord and
dropped his pants, then lowered himself over the second
hole, two feet away from his master.  Frankly watching him
all the while, Appleby recognized the family trait of firm,
high, muscular buttocks that he shared with his sons, and
which Appleby had seen two nights ago when he spied through
a torn curtain as Priam fucked his wife in their cabin.
Appleby had not seen Priam's magnificent organ, though, as
it had been buried inside the woman--and although his
glimpse was brief it was clear that Priam's member was every
bit as large as Troy's, heavy and massive.  Priam settled on
the hole and cleared his throat.  His huge snake dived down
the hole; Appleby could just see the start of the shaft,
inky black and lightly oiled.  A few grey hairs dusted the
thick mat of pubic hair at the base of his abdomen.  Appleby
felt his own organ begin to twitch.

Both men sat letting nature take its course.  Appleby's
bowels moved audibly, to his relief, but he thought as he
let out a soft groan that he saw Priam sneak a peek at his
white master's exposed thigh, pubic hair, and the base of
his own thick, pink shaft.  Appleby's bowel movement
inspired something in Priam, for with a grunt and a grimace
on his craggy, black face he, too, expelled his waste into
the hole below.

Relaxed in the aftermath, and waiting to see if there would
be more, Priam seemed to loosen up socially as well.  "Are
you comfortable here, Master Mark?" he asked.  "I expect it
is all very different for you."

"Yes, very comfortable, thank you," he said.  "I have.... I
have so enjoyed meeting the people," he said in the
understatement of the year.  Deciding to probe Priam a bit
more, and reaching for a sheet of newspaper with which to
clean himself, he said, "I think I am something different
for many of the people here as well!"

That brought a chuckle from the man, who turned his face,
still handsome and strong after fifty years, toward his
white master.  "Yes, sir, we served Miss Lucy, of course,
but very few, uh, others ever came to Seaward," he said.
Then a little more softly, "Very few white people."  He
paused.  "Hardly ever any white men," and Appleby was sure
he glanced again, quickly, at his master's naked loins.

"Ah, I think I have sensed that in your sons, and in Pan and
Bacchus," and then he quickly added, "and the others, of
course.  I think very few of them have seen many white men!"

Priam seemed to be making a decision as to what to say, how
much of himself to reveal.  Choosing his words carefully, he
continued as he himself tore newspaper and cleaned himself.
"I was.... I was taken from Africa when I was ten, Master
Mark.  Brought here on a ship and sold in the market in
Charleston to Master Richardson's father, forty years ago.
I saw many white men for the first time on the ships and
many in Charleston."  He paused, looking into the distance,
remembering.  "Some were kind and honorable."  He paused
again, and glanced quickly once more at his master's naked
thigh and pubic area.  "Some were not."

Rising suddenly he said, "Beg pardon, sir, I must be going."
As he pulled up his loincloth and trousers quickly, Appleby
was sure that Priam's massive penis had grown in the short
while he was there, was standing out just a little from his
muscular thighs.  Appleby also rose to pull up his pants,
and this time Priam did look at his master's penis, revealed
for but a moment before he was clothed again.  Clearing his
throat, Priam led the way out of the structure into the
sunlight.  "Troy and I are taking the boat into Charleston
in the morning, master.  Would you like to come with us?"
Eager for a change of scene, and seeing an opportunity to
conclude some business with Horatio Smith, his attorney,
Appleby quickly agreed.  The men parted, and Appleby
returned to the house for his simple lunch.

Entering the main house, Appleby washed his hands and face
at the bath room pump in preparation for lunch.  Hearing the
pantry door open and close, Appleby walked around to find
Troy standing in the hallway, looking left and right.

"Good afternoon, Master Mark," he said, his dark handsome
face softening in a smile.  "I came to see if you needed
anything."  Despite the pleasures he had shared with his
master the night before and that morning, Troy was surprised
when the white man stepped up to him and quickly embraced
him, smiling into his own face and keeping a hand on his
shoulder near the neck, gently massaging the dense muscle
there.  Appleby felt drawn to this powerful young man as to
a magnet.  Troy's dark color seemed to pull him in, the
heavy muscles that filled out his loose shirt and rough
trousers seemed weighted with gravity.  The shirt, opened at
the top to allow hard physical work, revealed a slight
trickle of sweat running down through the valley between two
solid globes of chest muscle.  A wave of sheer delight ran
through Appleby, and he leaned in again quickly to kiss the
thick ebony trunk of his slave's neck, smelling the workday
smells of sweat, sawdust, and smoke.

"I need that, Troy.  Thank you for coming to see me.  Have
you eaten, would you like lunch?"  Surprised anew at every
kindness, every intimacy, Troy smiled again and said he had
not eaten but would like to do so.  Rummaging in the pantry
for food left by the twins in between running errands at the
birthing cabin, the two men sat down at a corner of the
dining room table and ate.  They talked lightly of the
activities of the day--Appleby spared his slave a
description of his visit with Priam--their talk often
interrupted with soft laughter.  Once, in a moment of mirth,
Appleby covered Troy's hand, lying on the table top, with
his own and squeezed.  Troy smiled and shifted his hand
around to oppose his tan palm to the pink and white palm of
his master, dark fingers interlocking with white ones.
Conversation stopped as both men simply looked at the sight,
and each thought it was beautiful beyond words.

Their meal finished, Troy announced a need to return to his
chores.  The men rose and exchanged a quick kiss, then out
the door went the black man.  Warm weather having returned
after the storm of the night before, Appleby decided that he
would hike over the island, learning its features.
Selecting a walking stick in the hallway, he set out on his
adventure.

Appleby walked many of the paths on which Hector had led him
before, enjoying the fresh green smells, the earthy vapors,
that the storm had brought.  A few branches were torn down
by the wind, but otherwise there was little damage to the
island.  Appleby lingered at the gardens, fields, and
meadows of Seaward this time, making calculations of the
productivity of the island, how many crops its rich soil
could support, ways to improve its fertility.  In these
stops he encountered the males of the island, even the
twins, hoeing and planting, weeding and harvesting.  Mama
Juno also worked in the large vegetable garden; evidently
Mama Cass remained to tend to her daughter-in-law.  Appleby
exchanged cordial greetings with everyone as he passed.

His walk eventually took him to the eastern side of the
island, and to the beach there.  Climbing up on a rock and
looking east, he reminded himself that Africa lay there,
ancestral home of his black slaves, and he wondered what it
must look and feel like.  Appleby continued walking until he
found the cove of sand where he and Hector first found
physical passion with each other.  Sitting on the soft sand
of the cove, pleasant memories brought a swelling to his
groin.  Hoping to recreate some of the feelings of that
experience, but also feeling sweaty from his walk, he rose
and removed his clothing, carefully laying the items over
the surrounding bushes to dry them, and then ran naked into
the sea.

In and out of waves, over and under, his strong body moved,
becoming increasingly tanned by the Southern sun.  Enjoying
the exercise, he paused navel-deep in the gentle waves to
wipe the salt water from his eyes and to catch his breath.
Looking up at the beach, at the cove where he had left his
clothing, he realized he was not alone.  Squatting on the
sand in the very spot where he had rested was Helen, the
eleven year old sister of Troy and Hector.  Seeing that she
had been discovered, she jumped up and ran down the sand to
the edge of the waves, which lapped at her toes as they
rolled in to shore.  She wore a simple, one piece shapeless
dress that she was clearly meant to "grow into" as it was
just a bit large for her.  The neck of the garment slid just
off of one shoulder, revealing dark, gleaming skin over a
rounded muscle; she was well developed for a girl of her
age.  She smiled and waved vigorously.

"Hello, Master Mark!"  she said.  "What are you doing?"

"Good afternoon, Miss Helen," he said, bowing courteously,
glad for the frothy waves that covered his nakedness.  "I am
swimming, if you please," he said with mock formality.

"I know," she said, giggling and covering her mouth with her
hand.  Looking around and out to sea, she asked, "Master
Mark, do you have an ocean like this where you come from?"

"Indeed I do, in fact, it is the same ocean."

Her eyes grew wide in wonder and her mouth made an "Oh!"
Appleby saw that she shared the dark coloring of the rest of
her family, the same brilliant white teeth, the same dark
smudge of eyebrow and wide, pear shaped nose.  Her mouth,
though, was different, undoubtedly inherited from her
mother.  While her father and brothers had a wide mouth and
prominent, plumlike lower lip, her lips were also full but
perfectly symmetrical top and bottom, and her mouth was not
as wide, making a purple-brown rosebud.  She wore her night-
black hair in tufts--not braids but many twisted tufts about
two inches long that spiked out from her head in all
directions.  Appleby thought it was strangely exotic, and
although utterly new in his experience, attractive in its
own way.

"I'm going swimming, too!" she announced, and before Appleby
could comment or reflect, she ran back to the sandy cove, in
one move pulled off her dress which she spread out on a
bush, and ran toward the sea.  As she approached, Appleby
stared in surprise and fascination at her dark, lithe,
boyish body.  It was similar in many ways to her father and
brother:  deep dark chocolate skin, muscles well defined but
softer and rounder as befitted her age and sex.  Her belly
was trim and taught, but showed neither fat nor the bulges
of muscle that her male relatives sported.  As she came
close enough to splash into the water, Appleby could not see
any hair on her body at all, not even her pubic area, where
the clearly defined trough of the vagina could be seen in
place of a penis and testicles--but her skin was so dark
that there might have been some black curls there and he
would not have seen them.  Her breasts were the size of
oranges, cupping out from a flat plane of thin muscle on her
chest; they did not hang at all but simply pushed out, with
a dark nipple in the center of each one.  Although
unmistakably female, in many ways she looked like a boy,
like her brothers--a boy with small breasts and a hidden
penis.

The water shone on her dark skin, reflecting the sun, water
running in little streams between her breasts as she
splashed into the water.  She came within ten feet of her
master and then, shrieking in delight, darted under the
waves.  For several minutes she popped up here and there
around Appleby, swimming under the water from place to
place, shouting to him each time she emerged.  Laughing, he
waved and called back to her.  Was it his imagination or did
she swim closer and closer to him with each passage?  No, it
must be true; once he felt her brush by his thigh as she
wriggled by.

Eventually she emerged, splashing and blowing water, five
feet from him and paused for breath.  Sea water glinted in
the matted tufts of her hair, and her boyish face broke into
a big grin.  Brown slave girl and white master regarded each
other in smiling silence for a moment.  Was it old memories
of intimacies with the girls of his youth, or was it her
resemblance to her brothers that caused a stirring in his
penis, under the water?  She broke the brief silence.

"Master Mark, are there black people where you come from?
You know, people like me?"

"Yes, there are," he replied, "although I did not get to
know many of them before I came here.  I am sorry for that,
I should have.  I..." he hesitated, "I would have enjoyed
it."

Moving her hands through the water to feel the motion of the
waves, she stepped a little closer to Appleby.  She was
shorter than Hector, a little under five feet tall, nearly
as tall as Pan and Bacchus.  The water, waist high on
Appleby, swirled just over her small breasts.

"We don't see many white people here," she said.  "We don't
see many white men at all, master!" she continued, giggling
as if it were a great treat to encounter such a spectacle.
A larger wave than usual crashed around them, now only three
feet apart, threatening to knock her off her feet, covering
her mouth and nose and momentarily lifting her from her
feet.

"It's too deep here, master, come!" she said, and reached
out to grab his hand.  Appleby realized that she was pulling
him in toward shore, and that his penis, which had begun to
swell ominously with her physical closeness, would soon be
visible.  He thought for a moment of protesting, then
decided to let matters take their course.  He followed as
she tugged at his hand, the naked dark-colored girl pushing
through the water with a sense of purpose.  He saw that her
bottom had the high, upward push of her brothers' butts, but
a slight swelling of the bones of the pelvis gave a more
feminine promise to it.  Together they rose from the water
until it was just below his knees, and just below the well
defined notch of her vagina.

"There!' she said, turning around, "that's better!"  She
kept tight hold of his hand though, even as she faced him.
A look of curiosity and surprise came over her face as she
saw her master's tanned white body for the first time in its
complete nakedness.  The color of his skin, the texture of
his hair, fascinated her.  Coming closer, she reached up
with her free hand to run her fingers through his wet, long
brown hair, to trace the path of light brown hair at the
center of his chest that ran down across his belly, to rub
his rose colored nipples.  Appleby's penis, already
swelling, sprang fully to life as her small dark brown
fingers neared his pubic area.  She was close enough so that
it pushed out against her, gently nudging her at the top of
her slim, boyish brown belly.  She giggled in delight and
squeezed his hand harder.  The slave girl paused for a
moment and then quickly grasped her white master's organ in
her dark brown fist.  Silently she began running her fist up
and down the shaft of the organ.  Clear precum flowed out
and mixed with seawater.  "Ooooo" she cooed, and briefly
rubbed the slick liquid over the dark purple head of his
dick.

Appleby was beside himself, balanced between her close
resemblance to her brothers and the unmistakable evidence of
being a girl.  Releasing his hand from hers, he cupped both
of her small breasts in his palms, kneading them softly,
running his thumbs around her nipples.  Giggling happily,
she applied the hand he had now freed to his penis,
clutching two dark brown fists around the organ.  The pace
of her pumping increased gradually as a look of
concentration came over her face, focused on his stiff rod,
belly, and chest.

"Master Mark," she whispered, "do white men make juice like
black boys do?"

"Yes," he said, more a moan than a statement.  Wondering how
she knew what black boys do, he kneaded her perfectly round
breasts more vigorously.  She increased the pace of pumping
his hose, tightening her grip.

"Is it the same color of juice that black boys make?" she
asked, a little breathlessly.

"You are about to find out," he said in a hoarse whisper,
and with that he heaved his groin forwards.  Three long
ropes of white cum shot out and landed on the wet, dark, sun-
bright skin of her belly and between her breasts.  She kept
pumping and another great shot of cum landed on her dark
brown neck and chin. Appleby issued a long, continuous groan
from deep in his chest as his hips clenched and relaxed,
clenched and relaxed.  He squeezed her round, black breasts
hard, but she did not protest.

Inexpertly, she kept pumping at the same hard, vigorous
pace.  "Slow down!" he gasped, and she complied, now simply
massaging and squeezing her master's organ, which gave him
intense shivers of pleasure.  Rivulets of slimy semen began
making their way down her wet, dark skin.  Eventually, he
released her breasts, and taking that as a hint, she removed
her hands from his engorged shaft.  It flopped down,
dribbling semen into the foamy water.  Smiling at each, the
white man leaned over quickly and kissed her full rosebud
lips.  She smiled brilliantly, then slipped around him and
dove into the sea.  He followed, both white man and dark
brown slave girl cleaning themselves in the healing waters
of the ocean.  Going a little farther out, he turned to see
her emerge from the sea, running back towards the cove,
pumping leg muscles working her muscular butt.  He began
moving toward shore also, but not quickly enough.  Snatching
her simple dress from off of the bush, she slipped it on
over her slim brown body just as he was emerging from the
water.  She waved, smiled at him the brilliant smile that
her brothers shared, then turned and push through the bushes
and was gone.  He heard the movement of the undergrowth for
a moment, then all was quiet.

Happy and tired from the day's labors, both in and out of
bed, Appleby came out of the water and let the late
afternoon sun dry him on the beach. Dressing, he made his
way back up the familiar path toward the big house.
Entering, he examined the mail that Troy had brought that
day from the passing mail boat, which prompted another round
of letters to be prepared to go out in the morning.  Making
a simple sandwich from supplies in the pantry, he sat on the
verandah, rocking and munching, listening to the sounds of
the slaves as they went here and there about their business.

Twilight darkened to night, the moon rose, and insects sang
as Appleby rocked, thought, and made plans.  Hearing steps
coming around the side of the verandah, he was pleased to
see Troy's dark figure walk up the porch stairs, a smile
revealing white teeth that matched the brilliance of his
clean shirt.

"Hello, Master Mark," he said.  "Did you eat?"

"Yes, did you?"

"Yes sir, I did."  The strong black man stood near his
master and looked out into the night, inhaling the scents of
the evening, honeysuckle and sea air.  "I just bathed in the
sea, master, down at the pier," he said.

"I did also, on the east side of the island," replied
Appleby, both men smiling companionably at each other.
"Sit, Troy," said Appleby, indicating the rocker beside him,
"I'll be right back."  Appleby walked quickly into the
study, then came back out again onto the porch, holding two
snifters half-full of Napoleon brandy.  He gave one to his
slave who thanked him in words and with a full smile.  Both
men sat quietly, rocking peacefully, making small talk about
the night, the good health of Athena and her baby, the work
of the plantation.

Sounds from the grounds and cabins around the house faded
away as the people made ready for the night.  Appleby, his
and Troy's glasses drained, stood.  "Come," he said softly,
and held out a tanned white hand.  Troy took hold of it with
his dark brown hand and stood.  Side by side, the two walked
into the hallway and up the stairs to bed.