Lance Kyle

Seaward Plantation

Chapters 7-8

Chapter seven

"You're his master, you make him stop," whispered the slave – or former slave? – it was hard to tell after yesterday's events. Troy tried a kick of his own, which was also useless.

"You're his brother, you do it," said Appleby, who then grabbed a pillow and, without aiming, heaved it powerfully toward the foot of their bed. He scored a hit, but the result was only a chuckle from that general direction. The black man and the white man groaned and opened their eyes, looking at each other from the distance it takes to rub noses – which is what they had been doing as they awoke. A voice spoke from the end of the bed.

"You two better get up. The tide changes in two hours and you're going back to Charleston 3; Get up!" The owner of the voice, Troy's fourteen year old brother Hector, reached back under the end of the sheets to tickle the tan soles of his brother's feet and the pink soles of his master's feet, as he had been doing. Balanced between amusement and annoyance, Troy and his master looked at one another and an understanding passed wordlessly between them. They then spoke:

"Should we?"

"Let's."

Both powerful men heaved up off the bed like jacks in the box and craned toward the foot of the bed, each grabbing a muscular arm of Hector. The boy was quick and athletic, but not quick enough to escape – or perhaps he didn't care to. The naked men pulled the boy forward into the bed with them and proceeded to undress the black teen, despite the fact that he was wriggling and squirming, putting up a mock fight. Appleby suspected that Hector made just the right twist and turn to assist in his disrobing – at any rate, Appleby sat on his legs while Troy pulled off his shirt, then Troy spread his naked torso on top of his brother's while his master pulled off the boy's trousers and loincloth. Hector interspersed faux-serious cries of "No, no!" with peals of laughter. Completely disrobed, he was then tickled by his brother and master, their fingers gouging into his ribs and under his arms, dusting the tan soles of his feet, while he twisted and howled with laughter.

Slowly, tickling gave way to gentler caresses and affectionate rubbing, as the boy's giggles subsided. Troy's chest was heaved across his brother's own chest, and his fingers changed from tickles to tracing figure eights around his brother's prune-dark nipples, running through the dark patches of wiry hair under his arms, down his side and around his navel. Appleby was lying in the other direction, one arm around the black boy's legs while the other had tickled his feet, but with a slight change of position the white man brought his head closer to the fourteen year old's long, thick penis. Appleby pulled gently at the wiry tufts of pubic hair in that area and held the hefty ballsack in his hand. Quickly, the ink black penis began to stiffen, a reddish brown head peeking out from the hood of skin that had covered it.

Hector gave a soft groan of pleasure, and sighed, then became quiet as his mouth was covered by his brother's mouth, two sets of large, maroon-brown lips sucking moistly at each other, tongues meeting. At his other end, Appleby pulled back the loose foreskin of the black boy's penis, revealing the reddish brown inner skin and glans. Pumping the thick shaft slowly, Appleby licked the sensitive head and inner foreskin of the boy, tonguing the thin slip of skin beneath the head, then taking the head into his mouth and sucking it, bending it downward with his lips, gnawing it with his lips. Appleby felt his own penis being held and looking down quickly saw that Hector had grasped it with his fingers and was pumping it, running his tan palms up and down the reddening shaft of the white man. Troy likewise felt his brother's other hand searching, sliding along the sheets, until it found his thick black staff, a little larger than Hector's own, and the boy began fondling his brother.

Breathing became heavier, hips pushed black and white rods into willing hands and mouths, the two men and the boy shifted and rolled into different positions to suck and be sucked, to stroke and be stroked. The moment had come, and Appleby rose from the bed and went to the bedside table. He unscrewed the jar of clean petroleum jelly, one of many he had purchased at the apothecary's in Charleston the day before – no more soap! – and applied it liberally to his stiff rod that jutted straight out in front of him. Troy rolled off of his brother and the two blacks lay side by side, panting, eagerly anticipating what the white man had planned.

His dick all slicked up with the petroleum jelly, Appleby got a wad of it on two fingers and replaced the jar on the table. Crawling back onto the bed, he lifted Hector's legs. The adolescent black boy knew what was wanted, and raised his legs in the air, knees bent. Lying close beside him was his brother, rubbing the boy's nipples and observing the preparations. Appleby smeared the greasy jelly around and then into the boy's puckered brown asshole, pushing farther in, working one and then two fingers in and out. When the boy's gasps turned to moans of pleasure, Appleby knew the hole had loosened. Getting into position, Appleby put the head of his pink and red dick to the boy's asshole and pushed. Hector cried out softly, but in pleasure not pain, for not only was he prepared but he craved the feeling of the white man's penis inside of him.

Appleby pushed all the way in, paused to let the boy catch his breath, then began moving in and out slowly. The white man stretched his legs straight back and supported his torso on his palms, holding his chest and muscular belly up off of the black teen. The boy folded his legs around his master's back, crossing ankles. Appleby and the boy locked eyes, reading each other's thoughts, in as close an intimacy as two people can have. Then suddenly Appleby's field of vision turned to a dark chocolate brown. Troy had swung himself into position to push his own massive penis into his brother's mouth. Hector now lay on his back, being fucked mouth and butt by his brother and his white master. All his attention was concentrated into servicing these two men he loved. Troy's legs were angled back and to the side of Appleby's arms which still held the white man arched up over the struggling black flesh beneath him. The black man pulled himself up with his hands on the headboard of the four poster bed, his torso swaying above his brother's head.

Now, below and in front of Appleby's face was Troy's hard-muscled, high, tight bottom, pumping a massive penis in and out of the black teen's face for all it was worth. Appleby could see the thick butt muscles working, shifting the countour of the butt with each push, rolling the muscle mass up toward the base of the spine then down, up then down, dimples forming in the sides of each buttock as Troy pumped. Appleby could smell the honest ass-smell, and saw little rivulets of sweat run down his ass crack, down the valley of his spine between two hard, long hills of back muscle. Looking up, Appleby could see Troy's back curved up as the black man held onto the headboard and pumped into his brother as hard as he could. From below the white man and the black man came a mixture of gagging, gurgling, moaning, and heavy breathing from the well-fucked black teen.

Appleby came first, all in one long push. Sensing its approach, he pistoned in and out of the black teen's ass, then pushed forward and held his groin tight against the boy's butt, straining and pushing to expel every drop of white semen he could into the young black's bottom. His head was inches away from Troy's working ass, and in his ecstasy Appleby lowered his head and bit the black man's dark cocoa butt, then bit it again, hard. The pain was the extra bit of sensation it took to put Troy over the edge. He gasped loudly, bucked and pushed, bucked and pushed, filling his brother's mouth with his semen.

Appleby pulled his dick out of the black teen's ass, making a sucking sound, and rocked back on his knees and toes, watching Troy come into his brother's mouth. Hector's swollen, purple black penis sprung up at attention with his master's weight off of it. With a sudden inspiration, Appleby reached for the pot of petroleum lubricant and began smearing it on Hector's penis. Troy, his powerful thighs quivering, had just reached the end of his own orgasm. He grunted in surprise when his white master shoved some petroleum jelly into his own hole with a finger. Appleby put one hand around Troy's hips and pulled gently back, positioning Hector's dick with his other hand. In one movement, Troy was impaled on his brother's dick, as his own dick came out of the boy's mouth.

Quickly understanding what was happening, Troy began bouncing up and down on Hector's rampant cock. Hector was beside himself, still trying to swallow the outpouring from his brother at the same time that he was in ecstasy from the insertion of his dick into his brother's ass. Appleby now had both hands around Troy's meaty buttocks and was helping to lift them up and down, up and down. It did not take long. Hector cried out incoherently as his groin pushed upward, his chest curling up off the bed at the same time. Troy bounced five more times and settled hard on his brother's groin. Hector strained upwards once more, then collapsed back down onto the bed.

Troy rolled forward and off of his brother to the left, still breathing heavily. Appleby dove forward to the right, on the other side of the gasping black teen. The three lay there together, catching breath, arms and legs entwined, speaking soft words of happiness. When Hector finally said, "You two really have to get up now," both his brother and master pummeled him with pillows and all three laughed heartily. But it was true, it was time to rise.

While Hector pumped and heated water for baths, Troy and Appleby donned trousers and shirts and quickly ran barefoot to the outhouse where they shared a companionable shit, the last of Hector's semen dribbling out of Troy's ass as well, down into the mess below. Returning to the bath room, all three washed. The two blacks brought out food for a quick breakfast while Appleby put on his 'civilized' best for the second day in a row, for the trip into Charleston.

The three were finishing their hurried meal when Mama Juno came in through the pantry door, followed by her irrepressible thirteen year old twins, Pan and Bacchus.

"Mama says we can move back into the big house, master!" said Bacchus, "because she needs the loft for this girl you're bringing back from Charleston," continued Pan, his tone of voice making it clear he did not approve of the latter part of the plan. " 3;and Mama Juno says Athena and the baby – when are you naming the baby, Troy? – are doing so well that Troy and Hector can move back in there," said Bacchus, "so we want to know, where does this new boy go?" concluded Pan. Mama Juno smiled indulgently at her boys and did not, needed not, say a word.

Appleby felt a wave of mixed emotions wash over him; he had so enjoyed the intimate times he had shared with Troy just across the hall. But he understood that Hector and Troy might wish to be near their daughter and help in her care, plus there was the matter of the delicious new boy, Cassius. The solution seemed clear: "Cassius can go into the room Troy has been in," he said.

"Right across from us?" asked Pan, unsure whether he approved of this. Bacchus dug him in the ribs and nodded silently, conspiratorially. "Oh – alright!" said the caramel brown boy, seeing possibilities afresh. Appleby asked the twins to make the house ready for its guests and to help in moving bedding and belongings around while he and the men were away. Everyone agreed and hurried off to their work. Walking down to the pier next to Troy, Appleby nevertheless felt a wave of regret at the changing arrangements once more. Sensing his master's feelings, Troy put an arm around the white man's broad shoulders.

"Master, don't feel sad, it will be alright. When one door shuts, another opens." Appleby smiled at the home truth. "And anyway, Athena won't feel like doing 3; anything 3; for a while yet, so Hector and I will be back," continued Troy, winking slyly at the white man. "And even when she does feel stronger, remember 3; we share at Seaward. You might want to join us, our bed is strongly built, even for four, master!" he said with a huge grin. Appleby didn't know whether to blush at the scandalous suggestion or demand its immediate implementation. At any rate, by the time the men reached the boat, where Priam was waiting, he felt better about the new arrangements.

Although not really dangerous, the weather was a little unsettled, the water choppier than Appleby had experienced it yet. Priam and Troy assured him that they had handled much worse, so he trusted in their skill although he by no means enjoyed the bouncing, rolling voyage into Charleston. Securing the boat to the pier, the men walked ashore, Appleby in the lead.

The slave trader's business did not open until one, so the morning was spent with Appleby setting in motion some plans necessitated by the secret freeing of his slaves yesterday. He spent some time in a bank and in a stockbroker's office, preparing and signing papers for the transfer of funds and creation of a trust, and for a clever scheme of financial investment, all on behalf of the people of Seaward. The clerks with whom he worked were frankly befuddled by the complex arrangements he set in motion, but they complied, sending telegrams and letters here and there, as Appleby whispered to himself, "Don't try to outfox a Yankee lawyer!" Priam and Troy spent that time surreptitiously window shopping in the streets, imagining what they would buy with their newfound wealth if they could do so without bringing down the wrath of Charleston upon everyone's head – which would surely happen. Business concluded, the men sadly repeated the strategy of the day before, in which Appleby bought parcels of food for the men to eat back at the boat while he had to eat apart – and he cursed the absurdity of such an arrangement even more since yesterday's events.

It was agreed that Troy would return to accompany his master to the slave dealer's, and the two were waiting on the sidewalk when the doors opened at one o'clock and the repulsive McGillicuddy, in clothes he must have slept in, sporting more egg than tie on his shirt front, lumbered onto his front stoop.

"Yas, yas, Mister Appleby I think? Quite right, yas, so glad you decided to come and consummate the transaction. What's this I see, something in trade?" he said, peering around Appleby to look at Troy. The young black man carefully kept his eyes averted but shrank back. Appleby was glad that he did not carry a walking stick, for at that moment he might have struck McGillicuddy with it. Composing himself, remember his higher purpose, he said, "No, Mr. McGillicuddy, this is my servant. He will wait right here," and Appleby looked meaningfully at Troy as he said this, "while I claim my two new servants from your establishment. And, of course, pay you the balance."

This last mention of further payment motivated McGillicuddy. Ushering Appleby in, he showed him to his private office and received the remainder owed on Cassius and Portia, then hurried down the hall, vowing not to take long. Long moments passed before McGillicuddy brought the sixteen year old Cassius into the office, holding him tightly by the arm. Cassius was dressed in a plain, even ragged shirt and rough trousers, with battered shoes. Appleby wondered whether the boy had arrived at McGillicuddy's with finer clothes that had then been taken from him. In his hand he clutched a small cloth parcel containing all the worldly belongings that remained to him. Cassius looked dazed and confused as he entered the room. Seeing Appleby, a look of recognition crossed his face, then he cast his eyes downward.

"Boy, here's your new master," said McGillicuddy abruptly, "I shall return!" he declared and slipped back out the hallway.

Glancing sideways at the slave trader's departing figure, Cassius spoke in an urgent whisper, deep set hazel eyes looking intently at Appleby through long, curling eyelashes. "Master! Am I really to be your servant, sir?"

"Yes, Cassius," replied Appleby kindly, thinking that the complicated relationships of Seaward could be explained later.

"I did not know," said the boy, in wonder, "I was alone in a room all night, I couldn't sleep, nobody told 3;" then he hurried on to the main point of urgency. "Master," he said, a note of hope balanced with a certainty of despair, "my sister, please master – "

Appleby held up one hand to cut him off and with the other gently touched the boy's ragged sleeve: "She is coming, too."

The mixture of hope, joy, disbelief, and exhaustion from the night's ordeal that crossed the boy's face was indescribable. "Do you mean to say," asked Appleby, "that he," indicating the general direction of McGillicuddy, "left you to sit all night without telling you what would become of you or your sister?" The boy nodded, lowering his head. Once again, Appleby was glad for his lack of a walking stick, which he would surely have broken across the fat face of McGillicuddy. That porcine villain could be heard returning in the hallway.

He ushered Portia, Cassius's seventeen year old sister, into the room. Appleby was sure McGillicuddy had his hand on her bottom, and gave her a slight push. The girl was also dressed practically in rags, with a small, sad cloth bundle of her possessions in her hand. "This is your new master," McGillicuddy said to her. Portia had not really seen Appleby well the previous day, hanging her head in shame at her own nakedness, so she looked quickly, furtively at the strange white man before her. Then joy and amazement spread over her face as she saw her brother. She stepped toward him but a quick warning glance from Cassius made her stop. She stood with head bowed, tears beginning to trickle down her coffee and cream cheeks.

Wasting no time, Appleby shook the plump, sticky hand of the slave trader and walked toward the door, wiping his own hand surreptitiously on his coat. His new slaves followed, fearful and as if in a dream but overjoyed to be together in whatever difficulties lay ahead. Appleby stepped onto the stoop and down into the street, Troy taking a step back at the fierce look of rage on his master's face. Composing himself, Appleby turned once more to salute McGillicuddy, who stood swaying in his doorway. Then quickly, with no introductions, Appleby led the way down the block, his face clouded with anger once more. Portia and Cassius, hurrying, stumbling, followed as best they could, Portia beginning to sob, Cassius grasping her hand tightly. Troy brought up the rear. Turning the corner and heading toward the port, Appleby stopped at the entrance to an empty alley, partially concealed with a stack of wooden crates. Wheeling around, his anger was softened with an expression of kindness as he gripped Cassius by the arm, Portia clutching her brother's other hand, and guided them into the alley.

"Comfort your sister," he whispered to Cassius fiercely, then he and Troy closed ranks at the entrance to the alley, Appleby glowering ferociously at passers-by, as Portia's sobs broke out in earnest, punctuated by Cassius's soothing voice. Tears gave way to relief, and the brother and sister spoke quickly in hushed whispers. Finally, Appleby felt a slight tug on his coat sleeve.

"Thank, you master 3; thank you. We are ready," said Cassius, head bowed but smiling. Portia likewise kept her head bowed by was determined to survey her new master through her long, curling eyelashes, to see what manner of household would be their fate.

"This is Troy," said Appleby, indicating the young man, and then, "we will explain everything soon." He led the little procession again down the street and soon they reached the pier. Troy jumped ahead, down into the boat, and held out his hand to help his new comrades board. They both hesitated, and expressions of fear crept on their faces.

"We 3; we have never been on the water," said Cassius in a husky whisper.

"It is important you be on the water now," returned Troy. "Please come aboard," he said, having caught his master's eagerness to take the two away from this dreadful place. With Appleby encouraging them gently from behind, the two plucked up their courage and stepped onto the boat. Priam was introduced, and the craft put out to sea as soon as possible.

Appleby had hoped to use the short journey back to Seaward to explain matters to his new slaves, but the water remained choppy. Sitting in the middle of the boat, where Appleby first sat on arriving in Charleston, Cassius and Portia were in the most comfortable spot possible, but they still clutched each other and any wooden upright they could find, mute with terror, as the boat pitched and yawed in the choppy water. Troy and Priam busied themselves with guiding the craft expertly. When not thinking of their own terror, brother and sister had occasion to wonder at the strangeness of a white man who would sit on a coil of rope on the deck while they took the most comfortable seat, but then the boat would lean and their thoughts returned to what they were sure was their own immediate peril.

If Appleby did not talk, he could see. His groin stirred looking at Cassius, the boy's mop of thick, jet black curls glistening in the salt spray. Each time he spoke to his sister, the thick, full lips of his heart shaped mouth parted invitingly. Even looking in fear at the ocean, the boy's beautiful hazel eyes peered beneath deep brows, through long, curling eyelashes. Through rips and holes in his ragged clothing, Appleby could see patches of the flawless coffee and cream skin he had observed before, which led to fantasies of what lay beneath the white undergarment the boy had worn but not removed 3; yet. Portia, his sister, had the same complexion and build, slim but muscular, with full, high breasts straining the ill-fitting, wretched garment she wore. Where her brother's face was a rounded oval, hers was more circular and smaller. Where his hair was black and curling, hers was medium brown and frizzy, pulled close to her head now by the scarf she wore knotted under her neck. Brother and sister looked like angels out of a Renaissance fresco, or marble statues, brought to life and colored cafe-au-lait. Appleby had time to think about himself and his own reactions, for the girl Portia stirred in him feelings that he had begun to think over the last week were no longer in him.

The boat was finally brought to the pier at Seaward. Appleby leaped out to help Troy lash the craft to the uprights, then he extended a hand to help the new arrivals come onto the boards, Portia first. She took a quick look at the white hand, then a quicker, startled look at her master. Behind her, Cassius looked perplexed and wary, not sure what this gesture meant from a white man. From behind, he helped lift his sister out of the boat, while she turned her head quickly, pretending not to see Appleby's hand, and clambered out as best she could. Appleby observed all this, not in anger or disappointment but in curiosity. His curiosity quickly changed to astonishment, for once upon the wood planks of the pier, Cassius dropped to his knees and grabbed Appleby's hand, with Portia kneeling down just behind him.

"Master, thank you, sir, for keeping us together. We will work hard, master, we are willing and eager. You won't have to whip us at all, we learn quickly and have always obeyed our masters in all thing." And then Cassius kissed Appleby's hand and let it drop gently.

Appleby felt a thrill at this first experience of touching Cassius, at the feel of his full, soft lips on his hand, but the boy's cringing subservience distressed him. He understood that the brother and sister might be grateful for keeping them together, but the mention of whipping was shocking. Again he thought of how different life for mainland slaves must be. "Please, rise, I know you are tired, you must rest and then 3; then we will tell you all about Seaward Plantation." When Cassius and Portia stood up they kept their heads bowed, walking several steps behind Appleby. He turned to Priam and whispered, "Should you talk to them? We need to let them know about how we do things here."

"Give them time, Master Mark, they come from a very different world," replied Priam, with a reassuring smile. There was no time for further discussion, as they had reached the end of the pier where a small crowd was forming.

The people of Seaward had been alerted by Helen, who had seen the boat approaching from the island. They had all, except for Athena and the baby, run down to the pier and were there to welcome the new arrivals. Introductions were made all around. Appleby led a procession up the steps, across woods and meadow and into the big house. At every step, Cassius and Portia looked around in wonder and apprehension, unsure of what awaited them in their new home. Juno and Cass fussed about them, tsk-tsking at the state of their clothes, making plans for new garments, asking the new arrivals where they came from, how life was there, and so on. Hector and the twins, in the guise of helping the newcombers, surreptitiously touched Cassius's black curls and Portia's frizzy cloud, both new in their experience. If Seaward were a brave new world for Cassius and Portia, the two seemed like visitors from the moon to the people of the plantation.

Arriving at the house, Cass and Juno brought food over immediately from the kitchen, as the dinner hour was approaching and the new arrivals had eaten little during their ordeal at McGillicuddy's. Hector took the newcomers to the bath room to wash their hands and faces while Pan and Bacchus helped the older women lay out food and drink in the dining room. Athena and her baby arrived to stare at the new arrivals. But when all was prepared and Cassius and Portia were shown to the dining room, they drew back as if they were being shown a snake. They looked around with real surprise at their white master helping himself to food with his slaves; could it be that he intended to eat with them as well?

"Master, we can't eat here, it is not our place," said Portia, and Cassius turned to Priam and pleaded, "please, can't we just have something in the kitchen or the quarters?" In answer Priam picked up a plate and began serving Portia, asking her preferences, which seemed to confuse her all the more. Appleby picked up a plate and handed it to Cassius, saying, "Please, help yourself, this is your new home." He put a hand around the boy's neck and muscular shoulder and felt a racing heart in the artery there. Cassius thanked the white man, then hesitantly approached the table. Appleby could not resist coming along with him a step or two, for it allowed him to keep his hand on the boy's neck, which he rubbed, slipping his fingers just beneath the torn shirt collar to feel the warm, light brown flesh beneath. At first Cassius picked here and there at the food, but his hunger after a day at McGillicuddy's got the better of him and he loaded his plate. Portia, seeing her brother loosen up a bit, followed his example. Shown to rocking chairs on the porch, the two ate their fill in the company of the other blacks as well as their white master.

At the end of the meal, Cassius whispered something to Portia, then both rose and approached Appleby, kneeling again. "Master, what work will we do? Portia is a skilled seamstress and has some ability with medicines and healing herbs. I know carpentry and can also serve at table in the house, and we can both – "

Appleby interrupted the boy. "Yes, this is all good, Cassius, and thank you Portia. At Seaward we all do what needs to be done. But thank you for the gift of these skills. We will show you the plantation tomorrow; the sun is setting and I know the two of you are tired. Juno 3;" he winked at the older woman and gestured at Portia. Mama Juno came over and gently helped the girl up, saying "Come with me girl, you will stay in a loft in my cabin. We need to let you wash up, and I have some of Athena's old clothes that are still in better condition than what you have, until we can make you new ones." Looking around uncertainly, Portia seemed to be making a decision as to whether to trust these people. Then suddenly she smiled shyly and nodded at Juno, collected her cloth package of belongings quickly and prepared to follow. Cassius leaped up quickly as if to accompany them but Portia stopped him with a gentle hand, whispering in his ear and planting a sisterly kiss on his cheek. Off they went to Juno's cabin. Most of the rest of the company dispersed, Athena, Hector and Troy to return to their cabin for the first time together since the baby was born, Priam and Mama Cass to theirs with Helen.

Appleby juggled several powerful feelings as the party broke up and bedtime inevitably approached. Something needed to be done to show Cassius the easy, open, and accepting ways of Seaward. After a day of observing the new slave boy, Appleby's desire to do more than look was growing stronger. But there were also the twin boys, Pan and Bacchus, who would be returning to his room – and to his bed? – that evening. Thinking quickly, he took Pan and Bacchus into a corner as the rest of the company was departing and proposed some plans and strategies to them, which they eagerly accepted.

Cassius collected his cloth bundle, asking Appleby, "Master, can they show me where I am to stay?" indicating Pan and Bacchus. A quick, sly grin flashed on the faces of both boys. "You will stay here in the house," said Appleby. "Thank you, master," replied Cassius, and then to Pan and Bacchus, "Will you show me the servants' quarters?"

Winking at the twins, Appleby interjected, "You will just sleep upstairs, Cassius. But first, we will let you bathe and clean yourself from the filth of McGillicuddy's house." The boy frowned in confusion at the reference to 'upstairs,' not imagining that he would lodge anywhere but in a rough slave quarters someplace – perhaps upstairs meant in the attic, he concluded. But his confusion gave way to a quick smile of understanding and agreement at the reference to the slave trader's squalid premises. Bacchus took the boy's cloth bundle and said, "I'll take this up to your room and prepare a bath for you!" Pan took Cassius by the hand and whispered an offer to show him to the outhouse, which the newcomer accepted. Appleby knew that on the way there, as part of their strategy, Pan would begin to sow the seeds of understanding in Cassius that Seaward was different, and that Master Mark was very much different, from anything Cassius had experienced before.

Of course, Appleby had thought about this moment, but the actual approach of the time when he would see Cassius fully naked caused his heart to race. Bacchus, returned from putting Cassius's small bundle away upstairs, showed his master how to pump and heat water for a bath, a chore that Appleby was glad to learn how to do so he could participate more in the work of the plantation. The tub was full and steaming as Pan approached, holding Cassius's hand. Pan favored his master and brother with an enormous wink, while Cassius cast a quick but piercing glance at Appleby, full of a dawning realization as to what kind of place and what manner of master he had encountered.

The plan for Cassius's re-education began to unfold. "You are to bathe, please, Cassius," said Appleby. The boy, used to obeying white masters, agreed and began to disrobe. Pan and Bacchus sprang to his aid, helping him off with the ragged shirt and trousers that he wore. With only a thin loincloth left, Cassius lowered and turned his head in modesty, then quickly removed the garment.

Appleby caught his breath. The beauty of the sixteen year old's marble-sculpted arms and legs, muscled, boxy chest and abdomen of smooth flowing muscles was repeated in his loins. His buttocks were perfectly rounded in back but flat sided, a wide shallow dimple in the muscle of each side, the muscles of each hip and buttock pressing tightly inward, the line between each ass cheek tightly compressed. The mop of black, coiling curls he wore on his head became a more relaxed and wavy tangle above his genitals, making a surprisingly thick bush but with no hair any farther down. The light brown, coffee-and-cream complexion was continued on the skin of his loins, flawless without bruise, blemish, pimple, or scar.

Born of a black mother and white father, the boy's African heritage was most apparent in his full lips and heart-shaped mouth, which Appleby had seen, and in the boy's penis and testicles, which were revealed now for the first time. The boy's penis was the same size as Appleby's adult penis, seven inches [18 cm], but of a dark brown color, the rich caramel of Pan and Bacchus's skins. Appleby remembered that the twins likewise had darker cocks of a deep brown, and that Troy and Hector's members were nearly black. Africa always revealed itself in the size and color of the penis, it seemed. Appleby's own penis was darker than the rest of his skin, but not this rich, deep color. Cassius's ballsack, heavy and spreading somewhat but not dangling very far, was likewise a dark caramel brown, and hairless.

Appleby was conscious of a stillness in the room. Coming to his senses, he saw both twins staring in open-mouthed admiration at Cassius, their own trousers beginning to tent out in front. Appleby then became conscious of Cassius himself, who was standing straight, his head somewhat bowed but turned toward his master. Cassius was looking at his master through his long, black eyelashes, seeming to see the white man for the first time, weighing what Pan had told him about the strange and wonderful differences at Seaward. Clearing his throat, Appleby looked pointedly at the twins and nodded slightly toward Cassius, reminding them of their plan.

"Oh, let us help you!" said Bacchus, remembering the strategy. "Yes; I'll scrub your back," said Bacchus, taking Cassius by the arm and helping him into the tub. Gathering soap but no washcloths, the boys began to rub Cassius's broad, muscular back and thick muscular chest with soap. Lathering their fingers, they ran their hands with interest through his mass of thick black curls, exploring a new kind of hair texture different from, perhaps balanced between, their own and their white master's. Their enthusiasm caused a fair bit of splashing of water, not unintentionally.

"Pan, Bacchus, your clothing will be soaked. Take it all off, then you can bathe after Cassius," said Appleby, as if the thought had only just occurred to him.

Quickly, the twins were out of their clothing. Appleby's already swelling penis felt another surge as the boys' deep caramel color over thin, muscular frames, and their peppercorn black hair reminded him of so many moments of passion with them before Troy's brief stay in his bed. Cassius, of course, did not expect this development, but Appleby noted that he, too, looked with interest at the twins, drinking in their doubled delights with his eyes.

"Stand up!" ordered Bacchus, "we need to wash your lower half," said Pan. Somewhat uncertainly, Cassius rose and stood knee deep in the bath water. His beautiful, long dark penis had begun to swell, perhaps from the heat of the bath water and perhaps from the sight and ministrations of the naked brown twins. Did Appleby detect a slightly quicker breathing, a slight movement of the skin and muscles over the boy's heart? He certainly did a moment later, for grabbing up the soap again, Pan began scrubbing the sixteen year old's tight, rounded bottom, while Bacchus nonchalantly grasped the boy's penis with one hand and began soaping the head with the other, cleaning under the long foreskin. Cassius gasped audibly and his penis really did begin to grow then, a light brown head pushing out of the dark brown hood, swelling in thickness. Cassius put out a hand to steady himself, onto the naked shoulder of Bacchus. He grunted as Pan forced his fingers into the hidden valley between his buttocks, working soapy water into the sixteen year old's ass crack.

Appleby had to clear his throat again to remind the twins to move on to the next stage. Holding up a towel in both hands, Appleby invited Cassius to step out of the tub and dry. The light brown boy did so, his swelling penis flopping, and reached out to take the towel from his master. But Appleby held onto it and began toweling down his new mulatto slave himself, gently rubbing and patting the boy dry, as Cassius stood in surprise, never taking his eyes off of his master for a moment. Bringing the towel to the boy's butt, Appleby pushed it into the crack perhaps a bit more than was necessary, and bringing it to the swelling penis he held it there maybe a little longer than was needed to dry it.

All the while, the twins were scrubbing quickly in the tub. Completing their task, they climbed back out. Appleby handed the towel to Cassius now and said, "Would you please help Pan and Bacch to dry?" Hesitantly at first, but slowly warming to the pleasant task, Cassius toweled the boys, their naked bodies inevitably sliding against his, penis unavoidably brushing against penis or bottom. As he finished the task, Cassius looked to his master for more instructions, and was thunderstruck at what he saw.

Appleby had quickly stripped and was standing naked before the three brown boys. Cassius, despite his life on a plantation, had never seen a white man naked, never seen the color of genitals that had sired him more than sixteen years ago. He was captivated by the play of tan, white, and pink on Appleby's muscular body, by the deep rose and purple of his genitals and, unavoidably, by the sight of the swelling cock. Appleby sank into the tub and washed very quickly, since bathing was not really the point of this exercise. The three boys stood in rapt attention all the while. The twins' penises were fully erect. Cassius's erect rod would have been obvious had he not covered it with the towel he held.

Appleby rose from the tub and walked directly toward Cassius. Trained to be of service, and not thinking of the consequences, the boy opened the towel up to receive his master. An enormous erection sprang up from the boy, arching at a forty five degree angle away from his belly. Appleby simply stood before Cassius, who responded reflexively to the unspoken request and began toweling his master. The boy's passion was beginning to overcome his reticence, and as his master had done to him, he paused to linger with the towel over the white man's bottom and swollen member.

Cassius came slowly to the end of his task and stood, towel to one side, and looked directly into his master's eyes from a foot [30 cm] away, his awakened desire warring with his subservient upbringing and his fear of being too bold. The twins stood three feet [90 cm] away, now audibly panting, their members dripping small threads of precum. Appleby, keeping his eyes locked on Cassius's eyes, brushed the towel to the floor, reached out, and pulled the light brown boy into him. Giving way entirely, Cassius wrapped his arms tightly around the white man, gasped "O! Master," and pressed tight against the man's hard body. Appleby reached around to grasp the boy's muscular bottom and pulled him in hard.

The embrace did not last long. Breaking away, Appleby grasped one of Cassius's hands with one of his, and took Bacchus by the other hand. Pan took up Cassius's other hand and the joined procession of white, brown, and light brown man and boys moved quickly into the hallway, up the stairs, and into Appleby's bedroom. All four tumbled on the bed in a tangle of passion, groping and grasping even as they fell.

Appleby was excited to have Pan and Bacchus back in his bed, but the focus of his passion was on Cassius. The thirteen year olds seemed to know that, and for this one night they took on the role of helping the white man and the sixteen year old slave boy to consummate their passion. Certainly, the thick wall of slave experience and shyness that was around Cassius had come tumbling down. Was he also seeing in Master Mark a reminder of his own beloved white master and father? It was no time to analyze such matters. Appleby pushed Cassius to the bed on his back, then stretched out on top of him. Rutting powerfully down into the mulatto slave boy, Appleby's penis and the teen's penis slid easily alongside each other, the close, hot space between their muscled bellies slick with the precum that poured from each. Pan and Bacchus lay on either side, their hands rubbing, kneading, pressing into the locked white and light brown bodies between them, pushing their own erect and slippery cocks into spaces and cavities made of flesh wherever they could find an opening.

From his hesitancies and occasional clumsiness, Appleby had a strong sense that Cassius had had few if any relations with other males before, so he was resolved not to overwhelm the boy this first night – he would delay penetrating the sixteen year old until a later time. The white man pushed off of the slave boy and slid downward, kissing his muscular chest, running his tongue down the shallow valley between smooth belly muscles, tonguing the navel, before ending in the groin. Appleby buried his face and nose in the boy's tangle of black pubic hairs, breathing in the clean boy smell, pushing the youth's thick penis downward with his chin. Then Appleby slipped down another inch or two and swung the boy's penis up, grasping it. The cock was so rigid it had little need to be skinned back farther. Appleby licked the shaft up and down and then swallowed it whole. He felt the youth's muscular body twist, and the boy's hips strained upward. Sucking and pumping for a minute, he then removed the penis from his mouth and turned his attention to the heavy, wide ballsack, dark brown and hairless. Very gently, Appleby took each testicle into his mouth entirely, sucking softly. The boy cried out softly, but only in muffled words, for while their master was occupied with Cassius's lower end, the twins had fallen upon his chest, neck, and face. The twins were sucking the light brown boy's wide nipples, kissing his neck, and Pan had covered the teen's wide heart shaped mouth with his own trumpet lips, two sets of full lips sucking, tonguing.

Appleby returned to the boy's thick brown penis, taking it whole into his mouth, nearly gagging as the thick head touched the back of his throat. Arching his neck so that the top of the cockhead rubbed against the roof of his mouth, the white man began bobbing his head up and down, up and down. Cassius's hips began pumping, thrusting upward in time, his fists were clenched by his side. Suddenly, the boy shook his head free of Pan's mouth and cried out, while he bucked powerfully, thrusting his groin up into his master's face. Large dollops and splatters of sperm erupted from his penis into the white man's mouth, and were hungrily swallowed. Three more times he clenched his ass cheeks tight and pushed the white fluid into the white man's mouth.

As soon as he collapsed flat onto the bed, Appleby slid up the boy's body, gently pushing the twins aside. The white man came to a sitting position on the boy's boxy, muscled chest, knees in each armpit, and gently but insistently pushed his own dripping cock into the mulatto boy's mouth. Cassius had a momentary look of fear in eyes that were glazed from his own climax, but then he hungrily took his master's penis into his mouth. While the twins licked and cleaned the boy's lower torso and genitals from the semen and precum of both boy and master, Appleby grasped Cassius's tangle of black curls, burying his fingers in it, and began pumping back and forth. The white man would have liked to have delayed it, but his passion and pent-up desire for the boy were so great that he soon cried out the boy's name wildly and began pushing, slamming his groin forward into the waiting face before him three or four times.

Master collapsed half on, half off of his sixteen year old slave, while the two brown twins snuggled up close on either side. Cassius clutched his master's head, his fingers entangled in the shoulder length light brown hair, whispering "O! Master, oh master thank you, oh, master" over and over. Tears of release overflowed his hazel eyes and ran down his light brown cheeks, which Appleby gently cleaned away with his tongue.

Exhausted from the events of two days, master and new boy slave drifted off into sleep, joined by the snuggling thirteen year olds on either side. Moonlight from the window moved across the floor and onto the tangle of tanned white, light brown, and caramel brown bodies. Somewhere the shades of a brown woman and a white man looked down and, freed from all conventional morality, smiled. Peace settled in the night on Seaward Plantation.

Chapter eight

On second thought, maybe they were Buddhas and maybe they weren't. Buddha had surely been thirteen at one point in his life, and so were these two. Buddha was probably brown, as they were, although perhaps not this particular rich caramel color. Although all the statues show him as fat, Buddha must have been slim and muscular in his youth, as these two boys were. But Buddha might not have sat cross-legged on the edge of a feather-bed, facing his twin Buddha on the other edge of the mattress. And Buddha may not have sported the rigid erections that these two had, penises arching out at forty-five degree angles in front of their thin, muscled bellies. And Buddha's disciples surely never set this particular kind of feast before him: two naked, entwined, sleeping males, one white and one cream and coffee colored.

Pan and Bacchus had given of themselves to help their white master bed his new mulatto slave boy last night. Now it was their turn to claim the physical attentions of Mark Appleby and the sixteen year old boy Cassius who still held each other tightly in their sleep. The twins looked at each other, breaking into large, identical grins, and began to help themselves to the banquet.

Pan, who was sitting by his master, began to lightly trace the contours of the white man's muscular chest, gently thumbing his rose colored nipples, twirling the small patch of hair in the center of his chest, following the trail of light brown hairs to the navel. Leaning over, he kissed his master's belly button, tonguing it gently, then followed the thin line of hair again down into the soft pubic bush. This he nuzzled with mouth and nose, breathing in the man smell. By this time, Mark Appleby had come fully but quietly awake and was watching the proceedings. He reached out a hand to grasp the caramel brown boy's thigh, caressing and sliding the hand across the flawless skin. Appleby's penis was by now fully erect, a development acknowledged by Pan's slipping a brown hand around the purple-pink shaft and slowly sliding it up and down, gradually tightening his grip. Clear precum glistened at the tip as the head grew out of the hood, revealing the light pink glans.

Bacchus, sitting by the new slave boy, sixteen year old Cassius, had not been idle. Lightly pressing his own full, trumpet shaped lips over the equally full, heart shaped mouth of the mulatto, he kissed him gently. The light pressure of his tongue awakened Cassius gradually, who smiled, which admitted Bacchus's tongue into his mouth. Cassius sucked the boy's tongue, and with one hand reached behind the boy and cupped a firm buttock, running his fingers along the line of the ass crack, gently scratching, with special attention to scratching around Bacchus's wrinkled brown asshole. Bacchus responded by reaching one arm down to grasp Cassius's erect, medium brown penis, pumping it, while with the other he rubbed the light brown, boxy chest of the boy.

Breathing increased, soft moans and cries of delight built in volume and frequency. Boy shifted positions on boy, boy on man, the sliding of skin on skin – tanned white, coffee and cream, caramel brown – now lubricated by the sweat that stood out on every surface and the precum that leaked from every penis. Rising up on one elbow to survey the scene of twisting, grappling bodies, Appleby decided to take his new slave to one more level in what was for the boy the new delights of male love. Appleby would delay one more time penetrating the boy, building up his desire to do so until it would be the sweetest pleasure. But this time, this morning, he would show Cassius the delights of penetrating another.

Appleby slipped off the bed at the foot, his bedmates looking at him with curiosity even as they slowly pumped and squeezed each other's stiff cocks. Kneeling on the bed near the foot, the white man motioned for Cassius to join him. Kneeling side by side, thigh by thigh, Appleby put one arm around the light brown boy's shoulder and pulled him close, tasting his full, moist lips. With the other he fondled the head of the boy's penis, sliding his fingers under the sensitive cap, which made the slave moan with pleasure. Then reaching into the pot of petroleum jelly he had with him, Appleby gathered up gobs of the stuff which he spread on the slave boy's dick, coating the head and the shaft just behind it extra well. Catching the idea, Cassius reached into the pot and did the same for his master, running his light brown fingers, slick with lubricant, around the white man's pink cockhead, also making the deep purple, pulsing shaft greasy.

By this time, Pan and Bacchus knew what was going to happen, and they were eagerly willing. It took only a gesture or two from their master and the two boys got on their hands and knees, tightly side by side, globes of caramel brown butts presented to the white man and older mulatto boy. Appleby demonstrated to Cassius, who watched intently, what to do. Sliding the head of his cock in the dark brown ass crack, greasing especially the wrinkled hole with the precum and lubricant that now coated his dick, the white man then pressed the dick head up to Pan's brown asshole. He pushed, causing a gasp from the boy on the bed in front of him, who put his head down and clutched the sheets with his fists. The head of the white man's penis popped into the ring, which held it tightly for a moment. Then it relaxed, allowing Appleby to plunge the full length of his penis slowly but steadily into the boy. Pan cried out, "O! Master! Oh, that feels so 3;ah! 3;so good!" and then the white man was all the way in. He smiled at Cassius and nodded toward Bacchus's waiting ass.

Cassius was learning everything anew, experiencing a kind of intimacy he had pictured in imagination but not explored before coming to Seaward. Eager to taste each new delight, he copied his master's example, but inexpertly. Placing his own light brown cockhead against the asshole of Bacchus, he pushed in. Slick with grease and precum, it went in, but too quickly. Bacchus cried out in protest. Appleby put a hand on Cassius's shoulder to signal a need to wait. Once Bacchus gasped, "Alright!', Appleby removed his hand and, grasping the hips of the boy in front of him, began to pull in and out in a slow rhythm.

Cassius followed his example. The twin boys, the pain of insertion past, began to breathe as heavily as their master and Cassius. Bracing with their elbows and hands against the sheets, they pushed their rears back into the pumping groins of the man and boy behind them. Each boy hung his head and looked past his own dangling, full penis and tight, heavy ballsack to see the genitals of the one behind them, tanned white or light brown thighs pushed up tight against their own. The twins were panting, drool coming out of their mouths and onto the sheets.

Appleby, side by side with Cassius, kept one hand on Pan's hip and put his other hand on Cassius's far shoulder, drawing him in. Appleby turned his head and his mouth found the full, heart shaped lips of Cassius. His hand on the shoulder slipped down to the boy's buttocks and grasped each hard muscle as it clenched and unclenched in rhythm, then he moved his hand into the tight valley between each buttock. Cassius kept both hands on the hips of the boy in front of him. The pace of pumping became furious. Inarticulate sounds, half-formed words, and groans came from Appleby and Cassius, each called loudly the name of the boy in front of him, each boy moaned in pleasure and called back the name of the man or boy who was fucking him. At the same time, white man and mulatto slave boy came, bucking and pushing their rigid cocks into the boys as far as they would go. Again and again their hard butt muscles squeezed out a flood of semen into the willing boy in front of them.

It was over, and Appleby and Cassius remained on their knees, panting. Impatient, the twin boys pulled off of the wilting dicks that impaled them and turning around, rose to their feet on the bed. Each boy's long dickhead was now pushed out beyond the medium dark foreskin, dripping with precum. The twins walked up close to Appleby and Cassius, putting their hands on the shoulders of the ones who had just fucked them. Appleby leaned forward, putting his hands around Pan's buttocks and pulled him closer, taking his rigid dick into his mouth. Seeing what to do, Cassius did the same for Bacchus.

Stimulated by their recent fuck, both the caramel brown twins pumped their penises in and out of the waiting, wet mouths for only a few minutes. They, too, came at the same time. Pan's fingers, embedded in his master's long, light brown wavy hair, pulled the white man's head toward him as he bucked forward, pumping his semen out. Bacchus's hands, which were on Cassius's shoulders, clenched spastically as he lost control, quivering and shaking as he pushed forward again and again to squeeze the white juice into Cassius's mouth.

As each boy finished, he collapsed to his knees in front of the larger male in front of him and each couple embraced tightly, running hands over backs now slick with sweat. Passion gave way to the delight of being held, and boys and man, they explored their partner with tenderness. Ears, necks, nipples were brushed with lips, licked, gently bitten. Eventually, Appleby sat back, smiling at the beautiful brown boy he had been holding, and said, "Let's start the day! we must show Seaward to Cassius and Portia." Although reluctant to let go of the moment, the brown boys agreed. Returning to the bath room, they all washed in a happy party of splashing, scrubbing and toweling each other, and admiring naked wet bodies whether white, light brown, or caramel brown.

As Appleby and the boys were finishing breakfast, they heard steps on the verandah. Going out to investigate they found Hector and Helen. "We are taking the new boy and girl all over the island!" said Helen, smiling shyly at her master out of her dark brown face. Hector came up to Appleby and gave him a quick hug, but his arm lingered on the man's shoulder for a bit while they talked. "We are here to get Cassius, then we are meeting Portia for a tour," he said, smiling at the new sixteen year old. "We can have a picnic, too!" he said, indicating a cloth bag he had slung over his shoulder. Cassius eagerly prepared for a day of walking and touring, and soon the three of them set out down the path to the cabins, where they would collect Portia from Mama Juno's cabin.

Everyone settled into their tasks for the day. The twins busied themselves around the house, cleaning inside and on the verandah, making the flowerbeds and lawns presentable. Appleby worked steadily for a while with his correspondence, preparing letters to go out to the mail boat with Troy. He found Troy with Priam, repairing some equipment in a shed. The men greeted him warmly, Priam shaking Appleby's hand with both of his large, strong, dark hands, Troy hugging him and keeping one hand on Appleby's lower back while they talked. Appleby took a real interest in the work the men were doing, and asked to be taught how certain pieces of farm machinery worked. He labored with the men for a couple of hours, honest clean sweat breaking out on their skins as they went about their chores. Mama Cass brought food and water to them in the storage barn for their lunch, which they gratefully accepted. Another couple of hours of work in the gardens followed, with Appleby learning about the care of the crops and vegetables grown on the island. The sun beat down and the three men removed their shirts, sweat glistening on the tanned white and dark chocolate skins. Priam's fifty year old body did not betray its age beyond his white hair, a lifetime of work showing in the sculpted muscles, the thick lobes of his chest, the steel sinews of his hands and neck, while Troy's graceful, strong body brought many a secret swelling of the groin to Appleby, remembering their many times of shared passion. Troy, too, cast long looks at his master, and did Appleby imagine the occasional furtive inspection of his body by Priam?

The men completed their work and put away tools for a break, Appleby being grateful for the rest for his sore muscles. Priam went to his cabin to nap, Troy prepared the Hesperus to sail out and intercept the mail boat, and Appleby decided to walk the paths of Seaward to find some shady spot to rest in the afternoon. He soon came upon a small lawn of soft, plush grass growing beneath a huge, outspreading live oak, one of the largest, lushest specimens Appleby had ever seen, fed by the rich soil of the island and a nearby spring. Appleby refreshed himself at the spring and was about to lie down in the grass when an inspiration from out of his boyhood overcame him: he would climb the tree. The low-branching habit of the live oak made it easy for him to climb, and finding one upward slanting branch after another he was soon thirty yards up, catching a fresh, cool breeze from off the sea. Appleby nestled himself into the crook of a major branch, surrounded by green leaves, and leaning back fell fast asleep.

He awoke gradually, which was lucky so that he did not start and fall from the limb on which he sat. He was aware of voices, but they were too soft and too distant to make out the words. However, they seemed to be nearly beneath him, and coming closer. Shifting his position, he found an opening in the envelope of green leaves that surrounded him so he could see down to the lawn beneath. Cassius and Helen were approaching down there, just the two of them, talking softly. The eleven year old girl had the sixteen year old boy's light brown hand in her dark brown hand, swinging it playfully. But where were Hector and Portia, and why had the tour quartet not stayed together as they explored the island?

The two stopped on the plush lawn beneath the tree. Appleby could see them, being nearly directly above, but could not make out any words in their muffled voices. Cassius sat down on the lawn, cross-legged. Helen sat next to him, the two talking but Helen talking more, the girl touching the boy on the arm and shoulder from time to time. Cassius often turned his head quickly to look directly at the girl, then turned back away to look down at the grass or out in the direction of the sea. Then Helen shifted position, moving directly behind Cassius's back, on her knees. Her hands kneaded his shoulders as she bounced lightly against his back. Cassius's body did not exactly tense, but it seemed to take on a waiting attitude, and he looked straight ahead of him. There was a soft exchange of words, and Cassius nodded his head uncertainly. Helen moved her hands to the boy's boxy chest, rubbing it, massaging his nipples through the rough fabric.

Could it be that she was seducing him, as she had her white master a few days before? Appleby's groin began to swell at the memory. He shifted positions very, very quietly so as to keep the two in full view through the peephole in the leaves. A strong desire grew in him, and it had several objects: to see Cassius naked, to see Helen naked, to see two others having sex when they could not see him, to rejoice in Cassius's continuing awakening to a full range of sexual enjoyment.

Down below, Helen gently pulled Cassius's shirt up and off of him, the boy willingly raising his arms to assist the process. She resumed moving her dark brown hands over his light brown skin in earnest now, running her hands also through his tangle of thick, dark, loose black curls. She cupped his strong, boxy chest muscles, tweaked his purple brown nipples, and ran her hands down his abdomen as far as she could reach. One of the boy's legs was bouncing rhythmically with nervousness. Then the girl stood up and in one long pull wriggled out of her simple one piece tunic, letting it fall on the ground. She wore no underwear. Looking down from above, Appleby remembered her orange shaped breasts sitting firm and high on her muscular chest, deep chocolate dark skin over her boyish body. He could see the gentle round swell of her strong but not well defined abdomen below her breasts, and he could see the twisted tufts of her hair shake as she moved her head. He could see the girlish version of Troy's and Priam's high, tight buttocks, pushing up and out provocatively.

The girl moved around to stand in front of Cassius. The boy's leg stopped bouncing and his head seemed to reflect that he was staring at her in awe. She reached down and tugged off the boy's shoes, then grasped the waist of his trousers and, as the boy willingly lifted his hips a little, slid both trousers and undergarment off in one motion. Cassius leaned back on the grass; since they were just beneath the tree, the ground sloped gently up towards the base of the trunk. This was fortunate, for it meant that Cassius would not be looking straight up to catch any possible glimpse of his master through the leafy peephole.

As the boy lay back, the dark girl knelt beneath his legs, parting them gently. She put her head way down and took first one testicle and then another into her mouth, sucking them gently. Appleby could hear a distant moan from the boy, could see the rapid rise and fall of his belly muscles, now glistening with a little perspiration. Helen's mouth worked up the shaft of the boy's medium dark penis, now rigidly erect, sucking and licking as she went. Eventually her full, plum-like lips slipped over the light brown-purple head that had grown out from the hood of skin, and she bobbed her head up and down on the pole for a while, her hands clutching both of the light brown boy's muscular thighs. Cassius's head lolled from side to side, and more distant sounds of moaning, plus the occasional inarticulate word, came to Appleby's ears.

Releasing the boy's penis with a plop, Helen moved forward, her thighs and knees now straddling the boy's muscular abdomen. Reaching behind, she positioned his penis, now slick with spit and precum, at the entrance to her vagina. She lowered herself down a little, perhaps just enough to admit the head into the entrance to her womb. She gave a little cry and stopped, and Appleby could see that she was breathing heavily. After a moment, she began to move her hips up and down just a little, then just a little more, picking up a little speed as she went. Cassius's hands went out to her and hers out to him. Palms to palms, they locked light brown and dark brown fingers together. Faster and faster Helen bounced on the boy's rigid rod, but never took it in all the way. Half-heard words and moans began to increase, the light breathless voice of the girl intertwined with the throaty, hoarse moans and cries of the sixteen year old boy.

Suddenly, Cassius's torso curled, his head and chest coming up off of the lawn and his powerful leg and butt muscles pushing his groin upward. He nearly screamed, a sound Appleby could hear very well even from his high perch. The unexpected penetration high into her womb caused the girl to cry out as well, but her passion overtook her pain and she continued to bounce quickly up and down, then changed to a slower rhythm, perhaps remembering techniques from the experience of masturbating her white master a few days before. Helen's own body suddenly shook and, releasing Cassius's hands, she slumped forward, putting her hands on the boy's chest. The pumping slowed and then stopped. Pulling herself off of the boy's penis, she slumped forward onto his chest, her legs still spread-eagled on both sides of his abdomen. Appleby could see the boy's penis, still erect but wilting, leaking semen down one side as it slowly flagged and settled back down onto his thigh. It was hard to tell from that distance, but he was sure he could see the gleam of the sixteen year old's semen running out of the vagina of the chocolate dark eleven year old girl.

How long they lay there, Appleby did not know. His own trousers were stained with his leakings, but he dared not relieve himself with his hand and betray his hiding place. Slowly, the girl eventually stood up, then so did the boy in front of her. They embraced tenderly, Cassius holding her head of tufted twists close to his chest, she with her arms around his back. Breaking apart reluctantly, each dressed, and then hand in hand walked back down the path that led away from the tree. Appleby waited until he was sure they were gone, then clambered back down the tree. He knelt and ran his hand over the mashed-down grass, thinking that it still felt warm from the bodies of the sixteen and eleven year olds. He was sure he felt some slick fluids on the grass, even as they were soaking into the rich earth of Seaward. As he rose to walk down the same path, toward the big house, he slid his fingers together, slippery with the leavings he had found on the grass, his thoughts occupied with many things.

Entering the path that would take him to his house, Appleby found Troy, who was looking for him. "Master, when I stopped the mail boat to give them your letters 3;" his face broke into a huge grin, sparkling white teeth in his dark handsome face, "they passed on three big crates to me, Master! They had to lower them onto the Hesperus with a crane 3; I was afraid she might founder. Come see!" He led the way down an intersecting path to the storage barn. Appleby hugged himself with glee, anticipating the first fruits of the telegrams and letters he had sent North. Priam was there in the barn, just unhitching the donkey cart with which he and Troy had hauled the crates from the pier. Cass and Juno tried to peer inside through the slats. Appleby noted with interest that Hector and Portia were also there, and he tried to read in their easy, friendly way with each other whether anything had passed between them similar to what he had observed between Cassius and Helen.

Appleby seized a crowbar and, flourishing it in the air, said, "People of Seaward! Behold, I bring you gold, silver, and rubies!" Expressions of amazement and questions broke out; it was clear nobody took him literally, but now their curiosity was really piqued. Going up to the first crate, Appleby began prying the top off, being careful to preserve the wood for future use. Off it came, and he reached inside and pulled out brown rubies: shoes! Factory-made shoes from the North, in a wide range of sizes and styles. Nothing extra fancy, but sturdy shoes for country use. Accustomed to old, rough shoes out at the heel and toe in many cases, the people simply stared, then gasped in awe and dove into the crate themselves. The twins came running into the barn to see what the commotion was about and, like everyone else, began removing the contents carefully, reverently, to find some pairs their sizes.

There were at least a couple of pairs for everyone, plus sizes "in between" that the smaller ones would grow into. When Appleby moved to the second crate everyone gathered around in real anticipation. Off came the wooden top, in went brown hands and arms, and out came good quality manufactured clothing, again from the mills and factories of the North. Used to homemade and hand-me-downs, the people regarded the strong, simple dresses, pants, shirts, broad straw hats, and overalls as if they were ermine robes. Heavy wool jackets and slick oiled waterproofs promised protection against the weather. A party spirit filled the barn as the people judiciously and fairly divided up the spoils, which were once again in a range of sizes. Athena, Cassius and Helen joined the party, drawn by the happy shouts, and partook of the riches as well. Appleby kept eyeing the latter two to see if their behavior would betray any hint of their afternoon passion.

Hearts raced as Appleby broke open the third crate. Out came big tubs of paint and brushes, curtains, good and simple china dishes, strong study glassware, mirrors, flatware, enameled steel teakettles and black cast iron cooking pots and pans. "Master," said Juno, hesitantly, "do these go in the big house?" "No," replied Appleby "they are for the cabins. Help yourselves." Wonder warred with greed in the eyes of the women and girls, but good manners won out and the spoils were fairly divided. The cabins, although sturdily built, were plain, and visions of domestic luxury danced in every female mind. The men good naturedly helped sort the goods. There was praise and thanks for Appleby all around, and then each party dispersed to take its loot back to the cabins.

Appleby arrived back at the house just as dinner was being brought to the dining room. Tonight he would eat with the twins and with Cassius around the big table in that room. Portraits of long-dead Huddles and a solitary Appleby brought by Aunt Lucy from the North looked down in amazement at the white man in easy company with his dark and light brown boys. Cassius seemed light-hearted but thoughtful, while the twins were heir usual bouncy selves. During one lull in the conversation (because the twins each had full, overstuffed mouths and were chewing), Cassius put his hand on his master's forearm and, squeezing it gently, simply said, "Thank you, Master Mark. Thanks for everything." Appleby smiled in return.

Other families and groupings ate in their own cabins around the plantation. Just as he was finished and moving out onto the verandah with the boys to enjoy the evening breeze, Appleby was surprised to see all the other people of Seaward walking toward the house from the path that led to their cabins. They were animated, chatting and laughing. Several carried lanterns.

Priam took the lead, stepping out of the group and addressing Appleby and the boys. "We are naming the baby tonight," he said. "It is a custom we have; the correct number of days has passed, the night is clear and starry, all the signs are good. Will you join us, Master Mark?" Hector, Troy, and Athena smiled invitingly, all three passing the gurgling infant among them. Appleby gladly agreed to join them, and finding a lantern in the pantry and a coat against the evening chill, he and the boys set out with them.

On paths through the fields and woods of Seaward they walked in the gathering twilight, making their way toward higher ground. Appleby walked with Mama Cass and Mama Juno and asked about their work, what supplies were needed, how they would decorate their cabins. With Priam he discussed which crops were good and which might fail on the island. With real joy, he admired the baby girl that was passed among Athena, Hector, and Troy, making extravagant predictions that she would be a queen, would fly to the moon, would command the seas, would rule the world. The twins ran ahead, now behind, in and out of all the groups, laughing and sharing high spirits. Appleby noted that Cassius and Portia tended to lag somewhat behind the group, with Helen between them, the two girls finding common ground in their domestic interests, while Cassius had his own different reasons to want to be with each one.

The happy party finally arrived at the hilltop cemetery, the highest point of Seaward. There amid black and white ancestors they lit a bonfire that had been laid, and everyone gathered around it. Voices became quiet in the night, and even the rambunctious twins seemed to know that a special moment had arrived. Calling for the baby and holding her in his arms, Priam repeated words in an African language long forgotten to most of them, incantations for health, strength, peace, and long life. He held the child up to the stars, then brought her back down and stood on the other side of the fire from the gathering.

"What name have you given to this one?" he asked the three parents. Athena stood up. In a soft but clear voice, she said, "Papa Priam, we decided it would not be fitting to name a baby girl 'Mark.' So we name her 3; Apple." A soft chorus of approval passed around the group, and every one of them looked at Mark Appleby.

He was smitten to the heart, tears starting to his eyes and running down his cheeks. He could not speak, but could only nod his approval and acceptance, then covered his face for a moment with his hand. In one more way, he was becoming one with the people of Seaward. Completing the ceremony, Hector and Troy, holding on to a bottle of wine together, poured a cup's worth of it onto the fire. "Libation!" they cried – or its equivalent in an African tongue, if they knew it, and the people responded in kind. Silence descended on the gathering again, and then in groups of two or three they quietly stole off into the night.

Lost in thought, staring into the fire, Appleby eventually noticed that only he and Priam were left, on nearly opposite sides of the dwindling embers. "Thank you, Priam, for this blessing here tonight," said Appleby. "You are welcome, master," returned the strong black man, blacker than usual in the night, his skin shining in the firelight.

"Are there other ceremonies from Africa that you remember and perform – other blessings or rites of passage or the marking of special occasions?" he asked.

"Oh yes, Master Mark, for weddings, burials, all manner of things. Some are best left forgotten," he said, shaking his head, "like initiation ceremonies for girls that involve 3;cutting. Those are best forgotten." He stared out to sea, the fire lighting the strong, mature profile of his face.

Appleby nodded his complete agreement. Genuinely interested, he pressed the fifty year old: "Were there initiation ceremonies, rights of passage, for boys also?"

"Oh yes, those, too. When a boy was about thirteen, you know." Priam continued staring out to sea.

"Did the young men here at Seaward, the boys, did they go through those ceremonies?"

"Oh, not exactly the same, some things you leave behind. New ceremonies come to be, new ways to mark passages. I'm the only one who remembers those old ones," said Priam, shaking his head sadly, turning a gentle gaze on his master.

"So you must have gone through those rites of passage yourself in Africa before 3; before you were stolen," said Appleby.

"Not all of them, master, I was taken when I was ten years old. I missed one or two of them. I wish that I had gone through with them. I have always felt something 3; something missing," he said, looking at his master and then dropping his gaze to the fire.

"But Priam," said Appleby, real concern in his voice and face, "is it too late? Can we not have such an initiation for you now? What sorts of things did they do, that you wish you had done?"

Now Priam shook his head more vigorously, and looked out to sea again. "No, Master Mark, you don't want to know," he said, casting a quick glance at Appleby, then back out to sea.

His interest piqued, Appleby pursued the matter. "No, Priam, please tell me. What would you have done that would have made you feel more complete, if you had not been taken?" Priam picked up a stick of wood and stirred the embers, looking intently into them. Silence passed for a moment. "Tell me," urged Appleby, softly.

Sensing real caring and interest, Priam glanced at Appleby, then back at the fire, then back at the white man. Seeming to make a decision, he began slowly. "Well, you see, Master Mark," and he cleared his throat before continuing, "you see 3; among my people, it was thought that for a boy to become a man, he had to take 3; to take something of manhood into him." He hung his head, stirred the embers, looked again at his master. "We had many rites of passage such as hunting, staying alone in the wilderness for a period, which I did, successfully – but taking something of manhood 3; that I did not do."

"What 3; what thing of manhood would you take?" asked Appleby.

Priam laughed quickly, even roughly. "Do you really want to know, master?" Appleby said "Yes" again, gently pressing the unwilling black man. "Well 3; a boy of thirteen or so would 3; would take a man's seed into him. It would in turn make him a man." Smiling, he shook his head, stirring the embers vigorously now with the stick. "I don't know, master, probably just a superstition."

"So 3; so you never did this thing as a boy?" asked Appleby.

"Master, the idea was to do it with an elder of the tribe, someone a boy respected and admired. I 3; I was made to do it on the way to this place, master," said Priam, avoiding eye contact, "but it was not with men I admired and not with men of my tribe." Suddenly a look of sadness came over Priam, strong mature man that he was. He grew silent, the vigorous poking of the fire the only indication of the strong emotions stirred within him by his memories of that ceremony and his loss at having missed it in any real sense. Appleby saw the shadow of a small boy that used to be, inside of Priam. Appleby suddenly felt a sense of kinship with Priam, the two oldest men on the island even if a quarter century separated them. He thought of something Troy had once said to him, and of all that Priam did for the island and for him. Not fully thinking his way through, Appleby plunged ahead.

"Priam 3; is it too late? Can you do this thing at your age, and be more complete?" The black man stopped stirring abruptly and looked across the fire at the white man but did not speak. "Troy 3; Troy once said to me that at Seaward, each one gives to others what they need. You have given me much, Priam." Appleby rose, Priam's eyes locked upon him. "Can I give you something in return? I admire you 3; perhaps you admire me? and in a real sense, Priam, we are members of the same tribe." Appleby took the few steps to come around the fire and stand near Priam. The strong black man rose, standing a little higher than Appleby, his deep black eyes searching his master's face for understanding, some deep process of thought and decision working in the craggy muscles of his face. Appleby reached out one hand and cupped it around Priam's neck. The black man took breath in sharply and dropped the stick from his hand. "What can I give you 3; my friend?"

Priam gasped again, and put his own thick, strong, muscled and calloused hand to cover the white hand that caressed his neck. Looking directly into the white man's eyes, he breathed, "O! Master Mark." Then the two embraced each other, roughly as strong men might, one of them at least unused to embracing men. In that moment Appleby felt an iron-hard lump in the groin of the older man who held him, trembling. He knew what he must do. Stepping back a pace, Appleby began to undress, despite the evening chill. He kept his eyes on Priam's face the whole time, smiling an acceptance and invitation. Priam's face alternated quickly among smiles and wonder and consternation – then, making a quick decision, he began removing his clothing as well.

Soon the two men stood naked in front of the dying fire, one body a dusky tan in the fading light, the other body a coal black that reflected the firelight. One body was smoothly muscled, the other bound and corded by iron hard, thick muscles, the kind that can only be built up from a lifetime of hard work. Only his craggy face and the grey of the hair on his head and above his penis betrayed any sign of age in Priam. He could have crushed the white man, strong though Appleby was, but he did not 3; he stepped forward, and the two men, standing, embraced tightly. Appleby recognized the release that he himself had felt upon first coming to Seaward, the first night of passion he had spent with the twins. Priam, even at his age, was coming to his own rite of passage. If raped or molested as a boy, this would be a willing participation, a passionate meeting of equals. A fleeting thought of the ten year old boy he had met 3; he had not been kind to 3; at McGillicuddy's flashed through Appleby's head, and he thanked the universe for how it continued to give him ways to make amends for past wrongs. Strong arms clutched muscular bodies, still standing, hands exploring, scratching, pulling at hard muscle. Priam's penis, larger even than Troy's, was rock hard and pressed against Appleby's own straining erection.

Priam knew where he was physically, but spiritually he was thirteen again, in a lost African village, with an elder of his tribe whom he knew 3; and loved. Repeating words he had nearly forgotten in his mother tongue, he began to slide downward to his knees, kissing Appleby's muscular chest, tonguing his nipples, tracing the line through his navel to his pubic hair. Appleby gently helped the strong man's journey downward, until the man's cap of tight, kinky white hair was waist high. The white man ran his fingers through the black man's hair as he simply held and caressed the head. Intoning African words, Priam plunged Appleby's rigid penis into his mouth. He began sucking and pumping, greedily working the hard cock, yearning for the essence of manhood that would, in his mind, make him complete.

Appleby slowly rocked his hips back and forth to assist the process. When he came it was like an offering, an outpouring of love, a gift. "Priam!" he cried, and gently pushed into the black man's face, holding the crinkly, woolly head as his seed flowed out. Priam swallowed greedily. When there was no more, Priam let the wilting organ slide from his mouth and embraced his master's thighs. "Oh Master Mark, thank you, oh thank you," he said over and over.

Appleby helped the man to his feet, thin trickles of tears running down the planes of the hard muscled black face. They embraced in genuine affection. And then Appleby gently turned Priam around so he stood behind him, both facing the fire, and pressed into the black man. His swollen but relaxing penis nestled along the divide between Priam's muscular buttocks. With one hand Appleby reached around the man and gently caressed the massive lobes of his chest, his muscled belly. With the other hand, Appleby began to pump the rock hard, ponderous cock of the black man. Head to one side, Priam hummed softly, breaking into more African words under his breath from time to time, swinging his hips into a soft, steady motion. The two men swayed together in time to Priam's inner song. When he came it was also gentle if copious. Priam reached back behind him suddenly to pull his master into his backside, then pushed his hips forward and cried out an unknown African word. Great ropes of semen shot out, splashed and sprayed over the dying embers, which hissed and spat as the white liquid landed in it.

Appleby released the black man's penis and hugged him tight from behind, with real affection. Priam covered the white hands and arms with his own and leaned his head back to smile at his master. "Libation!" said Appleby. Priam chuckled deep in his chest and nodded agreement, looking at the sizzling embers. "Libation!" he agreed. And the two elders of the tribe stood in that friendly embrace as the embers died, watching the bright stars in the black night.

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