Date: Thu, 30 Aug 2012 9:22:58 -0400
From: lokiaga@austin.rr.com
Subject: Visit to the Plantation 7

Visit to the Plantation 7
Lance Kyle

It took Montford Jackson two more days to wind up the settlement of the
estate.  He worked as quickly as he could, being anxious to return to his
home with his new human property.  During that time of course he fully
enjoyed the two slave boys he had purchased, Paris and Pompei.  He made it
clear to them that he owned them now,that their bodies were his.  He took
extra pleasure now in fondling them, holding them, looking at and stroking
their deep chocolate skins, their pendulous penises, the curves of their
muscles, their buttocks, the texture of their hair and their African facial
features--his, they were his and completely at his control.  He spoke
briefly with their mother, Hecuba, but had little interest in her other
than for her ability to cook and take on the household chores he had
previously hired in help for.

Handing over the keys to the Wallaces, and making sure the remaining staff
was ready for the new owners, Jackson loaded up his wagon with his three
new slaves quite early one morning and set off for his hope in the capital.
On the way, he finalized domestic arrangements with them, other than in the
bedroom, that is to say.  The mother was to sleep in a simple room in the
detached kitchen building, and her primary responsibilities were cooking,
washing, and upkeep of the common rooms on the ground floor.  The boys'
official duties were to keep the very simple garden tidy, to clean the
rooms on the second floor and the small servants' quarters in the attic,
and to attend to their master.  If Hecuba speculated as to what that
attention to their master involved, she kept quiet; she knew she was coming
into a good situation and did not want to offend.  She could imagine that
her sons repaired to the servants' rooms in the attic at night if she
wanted to.  For the most part, she did not want to know and did not
inquire.

It was late when the group pulled up at the stable near the Jackson home to
awake a groomsman who rode with them to the house and then brought the
horse and wagon back.  The three slaves quickly took their meager
possessions to their appointed rooms--the boys knew to go directly to
their master's bedroom without being told--and then Hecuba prepared a
very simple, light meal for Jackson to eat in the dining room while she and
the boys whispered over the table in the kitchen.  The slaves would explore
the house, now darkened, in the morning light.  Now it was time for bed.

Jackson and the two black slave boys were tired by the time they mounted
the stairs.  The boys helped their master undress and then did so
themselves, awaiting his orders standing by the bed, their dark chocolate
penises starting to engorge in anticipation.  Jackson crawled into bed and
patted the spaces on both sides of him, which the boys quickly occupied.
Lying on his back he pulled both boys in toward him, partially on top of
him, and the three cuddled, kissing and stroking in a tired way.  Then
Jackson rolled over on top of Paris, the sixteen year old slave boy, and
inserted his now stiff rosie cock between the boy's thighs, locking the
brown legs together with his own legs slightly on the outside.  Stretched
out completely on top of the boy, he now began to move his pelvis up and
down, his penis sliding in between the chocolate thighs of the slave boy as
if in a vagina, sliding up under the heavy sixteen year old ballsack, while
the boy's midnight black penis lay straight up his abdomen between them.

Jackson cupped the boy's shoulders with his hands, and sometimes slid his
hands under the shoulders to pull himself tightly into the brown body
beneath him.  Paris sighed and ran his hands along the white man's back,
pulling his master's body tight against his.  Dark chocolate and cream
colored skin pressed tight together, each fully aware of the color
difference of that skin against his own.  Jackson began pumping more
vigorously, his breath coming harder now. He locked his mouth against the
slave boy's and began kissing him deeply, sucking the boy's full African
lips, running his tongue into the boy's mouth, sucking the boy's tongue
into his mouth, pumping and pumping, breathing the same breath now, white
man and black boy breathing the same breath and sharing saliva, and when
the wave crashed over Jackson he did not release the boy's mouth but moaned
heavily as he continued kissing him and the boy frantically clutched the
white man's back, the rose colored hard cock shooting semen down onto the
bed below the black boy's buttocks.  Jackson held that position, trembling,
panting as much as he could with his mouth over the boy's mouth, for he
still held that kiss.  And then when he was completely done he released the
boy's mouth, both man and boy gasping, as Jackson rolled over onto his own
back.

Now he pulled Paris on top of him and put him into the same position he had
just taken, the black boy's thick iron hard cock down between his thighs
which he held tightly together.  But Jackson now commanded Pompei, who had
been lying beside his brother and master, drooling with anticipation, to
oil his thirteen year old hard black dick and his brother's anus.  This
being done, Jackson commanded Pompei to enter his brother, which he did in
one push, his smaller, tight ballsack dangling down onto his brother's
heavier sack, his penis completely inside his brother's rectum.

Now Paris began his own rhythm of pumping, but he held himself up off of
his master a little with his elbows on the bed, looking deeply into the
white man's eyes, some kind of deep connection, a secret, growing between
them as they became lost in each other's eyes, Pompei beginning to pump
frantically into his brother's rectum, and then in his immaturity Pompei
shouted out and quickly slammed forward, curling his torso forward, holding
himself up off both his brother and the white master with his tan palms
splayed against the bed, as he came to his early ejaculation and shot his
thirteen year old's semen into his brother's bottom.

Now Paris picked up the rhythm of his pumping, his thick dark black cock
sliding up and down between his master's thighs, still lost in his master's
eyes, pumping hard now as Pompei held on for dear life, the thirteen year
old dick subsiding gradually still in his brother's anus, and then with a
cry that sounded like joy and sadness mixed Paris came, drowning in his
master's eyes, shooting out his potent man-boy semen down onto the bed.  He
held that position, trembling, tears starting in his eyes, and then closed
his eyes, breaking the spell, and tumbling off on one side of the white man
while Pompei slid over onto the other side.  Completely spent, the three
fell asleep like that in a tangle of arms and legs on sheets wet with two
loads of semen, and whatever of Pompei's load that dribbled slowly out of
his brother's ass.

The three slept late the next morning, awakening in a tangle of flesh on a
bed crusty with dried semen.  Jackson had about decided, despite their
morning erections, to forego sex that morning in favor of cleanliness.  But
then Paris announced in some urgency his need to relieve himself, and
feeling his own call of nature as well gave Jackson an idea.  There was a
chamber pot in the room.  He commanded Pompei to fetch it and put it on the
bed, then told Paris to position himself over the pot to relieve himself,
while he and Pompei watched closely from behind.  Pompei was told to steady
the pot with a hand.  Paris squatted over it, his meaty, rounded buttocks
positioned a few inches above, leaning forward, his still erect penis
dangling down into the pot.  First they head the rushing sound of Paris
urinating into the pot and then he grunted loudly and a long, medium brown
tube of shit emerged from the dark chocolate, wrinkled anus of the black
slave boy.  It slid down into the chamber pot and the anus winked shut,
then open again as another log of shit emerged.  Jackson and Pompei clearly
found this arousing, and their penises began to arise.  Finished, Paris
scrambled off the pot and Jackson took up the same position.  The boys
watched from behind, Pompei still steadying the pot with a hand that
received some splashed drops of urine, as the white man peed copiously into
the pot, the fluid joining that of the sixteen year old slave boy.  And
then Jackson, too, gasped and a rush of shit, more fluid than that of
Paris, dumped down into the pot as the slave boys watch their master's anus
intently while it puckered and unpuckered, squeezing out shit.  Finished,
Pompei took his turn and after a moment of pushing was able to produce
another long turd and then a fountain of urine to add to the filling pot.
The three examined the contents, breathing the heady fumes, remarking on
which feces had emerged from whom, and then they made ready to go
downstairs, the boys carrying the pot with them for disposal.

Jackson was accustomed to bathing in a copper tub in a laundry/mud room
attached to the ground floor.  Out of habit, he threw a loose dressing gown
around himself and commanded the still-naked boys to follow him.  They
burst into the laundry/tub room just as Hecuba was entering with a small
load of laundry to do, gathered from the kitchen building.  She stopped
open-mouthed at the sight of her naked sons with their semi-erect penises
bobbing, scurrying after her master whose loose dressing gown flapped open
more than once to reveal his own organ.  Jackson didn't care at all, indeed
gave it no thought, no more than he would have had one of his dogs seen two
more of his dogs naked.  He commanded Hecuba to leave the laundry room
while they bathed and to return later.  If he had wondered whether she
suspected what her sons did for their master before, he could have been
assured of her conclusions now, but again, it never occurred to him to
care.  She was there to serve him, as were the boys, and what they thought
hardly mattered to him.

The three bathed, drawing water from a nearby pump and cleaning themselves
in the cool, refreshing bath.  The task completed and the chamber pot
emptied and cleaned, the three went back upstairs to dress.  They returned
downstairs for breakfast, Jackson in his dining room alone, while Hecuba
served the meal, her eyes carefully averted.

The day was largely occupied with making arrangements for the new
household.  Hecuba explained what was needed for cooking, cleaning, and
laundry.  All four trooped out toward a nearby clothing goods store, where
the measurements of the slaves were taken.  Hecuba was to receive several
plain, serviceable outfits to cover her ample frame.  Jackson ordered the
boys clothed in tight but well fitted slacks and loose, blousy shirts with
V collars so that their chests and even parts of their abdomens could be
seen as the shirts shifted with their movement.  One ready-made outfit each
was purchased for the three slaves, and the rest of the clothing was
promised for the following day.  On they went to other stores where orders
were placed for food and household supplies, to be delivered later that day
to the house.

Montford Jackson had not by any means lived in a dirty house, but he had
lived as a careless bachelor, with only hired help to clean.  Hecuba
attacked the ground floor with a cleanly vengeance, and the boys showed a
surprising eagerness and skill in cleaning the rooms of the floor above.
After a day of concentrated work, the house sparkled.  The garden could be
attended to the next day.  During all this time, Jackson thought it best to
repair to his law office where he worked until the end of the day, and then
came home to his bright, newly cleaned home.  He nodded his pleasure with
the results and praised the three slaves.

The slaves reported that during the day some slaves of nearby houses,
noticing the new arrivals, had dropped by to bid them welcome.  None of the
houses, being of a size appropriate for a town, had very large staffs, but
most of them had a handful of slaves in residence.  Jackson had of course
seen them at a distance but had never had an entrée to them, and so
listened with interest as the other houses' slaves were described.  It
appeared as if not a few of them had slave boys or young men in residence,
and Jackson wondered if Paris and Pompei might eventually attract these
other slaves to the house.  One or two of those nearby had, by the boys'
report, young women or girls in residence, and although that was not
especially Jackson's interest he filed the information away, aware that his
randy slave boys were interested in sex with anyone they could get.

That evening Hecuba again prepared a simple meal which Jackson ate alone in
the dining room and the slaves shared in the kitchen, checking on their
master's needs from time to time.  The slaves finished up some last touches
of cleaning by lamplight as Jackson read in his study.  He occasionally
heard the slaves hailing others outside as they went about their business,
and he assumed those were the neighboring slaves.  The night darkened and
it became time to go to bed.

Jackson undressed first and then bade his boy slaves to disrobe one at a
time, so he could savor the process.  Once both brown bodies stood naked
before him, semi-erect penises bobbing in anticipation, he turned his
attention to their asses.  There is no butt like the African butt.  Other
races wear their bottoms low, often there is even a line on the lower edge
where even the most muscular white or Asian bottom forms two lobes
seemingly built for cupping.  Not so the typical black bottom, which curves
up and high.  In some cases you can almost imagine you could balance a
pencil on the top side.  They are muscular and firm, often slab sided with
the buttocks pressed close together, which is wonderful for holding penises
tightly that might be landed in the anus.  As the pelvis works during sex
these muscular buttocks flex out and back, the muscle coming up even a
little higher.

Jackson's two black slave boys had this typical African bottom.  Placing
the boys together, standing at the edge of the bed, Jackson fondled each
ass, deeply kneading the strong muscles of each buttock, sliding an oiled
finger up and down the crack between each buttock, pausing to gently rub
each anus.  The boys sighed and moaned softly, their penises now fully
erect in front.  Then Jackson bade them, still standing, to lean over and
place their palms on the bed.  When they had done so he oiled the buttocks,
the shine bringing out the beautiful deep chocolate color of each bottom.
And then with his hand he slapped Paris's butt, not hard enough to really
hurt but hard enough to sting.  The boy gasped but held his position as the
white master continued spanking him.  Then Jackson shifted over and did the
same for his thirteen year old slave boy, Pompei, the boy squirming a bit
as he received one slap after another on the bottom he presented to his
master.

Finished with that, Jackson bade Paris remain in position and pulling
Pompei back, Jackson oiled the thirteen year old's rigid, dripping black
cock, then oiled Paris's anus, and commanded Pompei to enter his brother.
He did so with eagerness, Paris gasping and moaning a bit at the intrusion.
Pompei was about to begin pumping but Jackson told him to wait.  He oiled
his own rigid rosie cock and Pompei's anus and, bending his knees just a
little, put his man's penis to the boy's anus and pushed in.  Pompei cried
out, gasping and moaning, but took his master's penis to the hilt.  "Now,
start," commanded Jackson, and Pompei set the pace for both of them,
pumping back and forth as best he could between his brother and his master.
Pompei held his brother by the hips and Jackson held Pompei by the boy's
thin, muscular shoulders, both of them pumping, both slave boys gasping and
moaning at the intrusion in their backside.  Being younger and less in
control, Pompei came first, crying out, slamming his pelvis forward and
curling his torso forward and down, groaning and shuddering with the brief
squirt of thirteen year old's semen he sent into his brother.  Pompei held
that position, collapsed forward onto his brother's back and held him
around his waist, while Jackson picked up the pace, pounding the slave
boy's ass with tremendous energy, until before long he also cried out and
slammed forward, collapsing both slave boys down onto the bed as he poured
his man's load into the young black slave boy.  Spent, he stayed for a
moment, both he and Pompei still panting and shuddering, until the crisis
was completely done.

Then Jackson pulled the boys off the bed, Paris's penis painfully erect, a
wet spot on the bed where the sixteen year old black slave boy had leaked.
Jackson threw himself on the bed, on his back, and motioned Paris to come
forward.  The black boy squatted between his legs as Jackson oiled the
rigid black cock and then his own anus, then lifting his legs up and toward
his chest Jackson pulled the boy forward on top of him.  Paris entered the
white man smoothly if not painlessly, and began a frantic pumping born of
sixteen year old black lust.  Jackson wrapped his legs around the boy's
back and with his arms pulled him down tightly onto his torso, the black
boy's face coming to about chest level where he pressed the side of his
face against the white man's chest so he could hear his heart pounding as
the black boy fucked him.  Paris pumped frantically and did not take long
to roar out into his master's chest, his hands clutching the white man's
shoulders, reaching up to pull at his hair, as he shot his man-boy load
down into his master's bottom.

Paris was still panting, recovering, his penis softening and beginning to
slide out of the white man's anus, as Pompei stretched beside his master
and brother and began rubbing and fondling each.  Eventually Paris pulled
out with a plop, his wilting penis trailing a string of fluid, and lay on
the other side of Jackson.  The three cuddled and kissed and fell asleep
together, wrapped in the others' arms.



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