CHANGED CIRCUMSTANCES A Sequel to "A Reversal of Fortune" Chapter 44: "Taken to the River"
This is a story of erotic fiction meant for adult readers over the age of eighteen years
Written by Jean-Christophe (Chris) "To see all my stories go to http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Jean-Christophe_Stories
Chapter 44: Taken to the River
Running alongside of Honky proved an enjoyable experience; I really relished the exercise and the fact that I could stretch out my legs and take long strides. My body - and my muscles - had been conditioned on the water-wheel but that was to strengthen my cardio- vascular system and to build up the strength in my upper body, thighs and legs. And it had succeeded, for I felt better than I had ever done. I knew instinctively that I would be proud of the body that lay beneath the grime which encrusted it.
And while the wheel had served its purpose most admirably, the pace of my circular perambulations had been slow and had varied very little. That morning, as I ran, I felt the power surge through my body. My heart beat with a steady rhythm, my breathing was deep and even, my corded legs and thighs coiled and uncoiled with clock spring precision and I felt the power surge through my body. In truth, I felt good and I knew this augured well for my future role as one of my Master's ponies.
I had run alongside Norge on several occasions and I'd always enjoyed the close proximity to him. But that day, as I ran alongside Sir Regis's pony, Honky I had time to scrutinise and admire him. And I liked what I saw.
Honky's physique was that of a true pony. Tall and long-legged, it lacked the bulk of the heavy duty draft animal and, in fact, I had several opportunities to make that comparison for myself as we briskly trotted past the slow, lumbering drays hauled by their teams of twenty, sweating and straining slaves.
Their wretchedness and their suffering took on new meaning for me; for I was on my way to join such a team. Soon, the wooden yoke-beam would rest heavily across my shoulders and my naked back would be exposed to the whips of my dray's supervisor.
Even though Honky lacked the bulk of a draft, he nevertheless impressed with his physique. His superb musculature was highlighted by the taut leanness of his body and he exuded absolute power and strength. He moved with easy grace and I matched my steps to his as we ran in tandem.
I was surprised by my ability to do this. In the past, whenever I'd run with Norge, I'd been hard-pressed to pace my steps to his and often I'd lagged behind. I'd simply tried to keep up with him - not always successfully - and perhaps I'd even slowed him down. Certainly, I recall that our Master had frequently resorted to the whip to spur us along.
That morning, I realised my training on the water-wheel had helped prepare me for this and there was a measure of satisfaction in knowing that just six weeks of preparation had raised my fitness to such levels as to allow me to run effortlessly with Honky. Paradoxically, I even felt a sense of pride in my new found ability.
After Claymore Jackson and Colton had taken their leave of them, Sir Regis and Sir Conn examined my back. As they did so, I sensed a degree of concern on Regis's part. Obviously, he'd been obliged to carry out Claymore's order that I be whipped. So in a sense the responsibility for any whip damage done to me would rest with the chief overseer and not with his junior.
But, Sir Regis was well aware of my Master's instructions that I wasn't to be permanently marked - and I was aware that all La Foret's overseers knew of this - but I wasn't aware of their resentment at my 'special treatment'. I didn't know they saw me as a spoiled slave whose Master was mollycoddling him.
Of course the real reason for their resentment was that they were denied access to my charms. Any new slave brought to the plantation is welcomed as a diversion - to be used sexually - by both the overseers and the older hands among the slave herd. And, by my Master's strict instructions, they had been denied that with me.
Indeed, I had seen Pollux sorely abused by my fellow slaves until he fell under the protection of a dominant slave. This was fortuitous for Pollux as, from then on, he was spared the multiple raping that was the hallmark of his first, few nights in the stables.
However, I was unaware that Pollux had also been much used by the overseers. Pollux's initial appeal to them was understandable. When he'd first arrived at La Forˆt, he was a most desirable slave. Unmarked and unsullied, he'd presented an agreeable sight and his cleanness was in sharp contrast to the unkempt appearances of the longer serving field slaves. Who then could blame the overseers for using his mouth and his ass for their gratification?
When first I'd set eyes on Pollux in the slave-pens as my Master examined him, he'd stirred me. I still remember my Master laughing at my obvious erection and his admonition to "steady on there, Rafe". I'd burned with embarrassment but I couldn't deny my lustful attraction for Pollux. The sight of him provocatively wriggling his ass through the bars of his prison to arouse my Master's interest had also worked its charm on me.
Later, I'd had time to study Pollux more fully and I never doubted for one minute that, had I been his owner, I would have fucked him hard and often. And I'd wondered if, in fact, our Master had done so.
Those first few days in the slave-gang must have been taxing ones for poor Pollux. As I knelt at the feet of Sir Conn and took his cock into my mouth or toiled on the water-wheel, I didn't know that somewhere out in the fields an overseer, in need of urgent sexual relief, would withdraw Pollux from his labours and order him onto his hands and knees, to spread his legs and to open his body for an impatient, rampant cock.
Mercifully, as Pollux's body became begrimed by the sweat and dirt of his labours and he acquired the animal smell of a common work slave, the overseers soon lost interest in him and he enjoyed a measure of relief.
Yet, I knew from my time as the owner of La Forˆt, there were many occasions when an overwrought overseer, no longer able to suppress his need, would select a comely young slave from a work-gang and take him to the river for cleansing. Once the slave had washed away the accumulated filth from his body, there on the riverbank, he'd then be used sexually.
How did I know this?
Always, as I drove around on my daily tours of inspection, I would notice some slaves were cleaner than others and had obviously been - in one of the many euphemisms of the overseers - "taken to the river".
Claymore Jackson had confirmed this practice to Lucien Barrois on several occasions declaring it to be a perk of the job. As Lucien, I had found this to be perfectly acceptable and had never raised any objection.
And I had no doubt the overseers would have treated me no differently to Pollux had my Master allowed it. That he'd placed me under sexual quarantine had obviously piqued the overseers. I suppose the prospect of fucking the man who'd once employed them had some particular appeal and my Master's edict against them doing so probably frustrated them.
However, as relieved and thankful as I was to my Master for his decision to keep me free of sexual molestation there was an underlying question that nagged at me. Were his reasons altruistic or was there another more selfish reason for my preservation. Was he to exercise his Master's entitlement under the "ius primae noctis" law - the law of the first night - and take me into his bed and be the first to fuck me?
As a former Master, I knew this to be a distinct possibility. My French heritage reminded me of the ancient concept of "droit de jambage" whereby a lord had the right to take the virginity of his vassals. Somehow, I knew that Guy Maratier would take my virginity - after all, in his position I would do the same. And as distasteful as this prospect appeared there was however, some solace in it for me. After my Master grew tired of me and caste me from his bed, I would be free to submit to Norge and open up my body to him.
Sir Regis examined my back and commented to Sir Conn.
"No lasting damage has been done to the slave. Mind you, he'll have a sore back and he'll wear the stripes for a few days. But he'll need to get used to that. That's a slave's lot. Still I'll play safe and rub some salve into the welts." Sir Regis was correct; my back was indeed sore. That morning, I had experienced both the cane and the whip. Which was worse?
I had felt the intensity of the cane's pain as Colton, the major domo had applied it to my shoulders, ass and thighs. The pain was immediate and terrible to experience. Yet, its intensity was concentrated on my body's surface and gave way to a dull ache that quickly faded from memory leaving just the angry red welts as visible evidence of my caning. And over the next few days, these changed - to blue-black bruising.
The whip's pain was more intense than the cane's; it was deep seated and longer lasting. And I was to find that it lingered far longer in the mind than the body. The physical pain travelled deep through solid muscle and flesh and yet it was the emotional pain and the anguish which embedded itself permanently into my consciousness.
As Lucien, I had heard old hands say that the memory of the lash never fades and that it lingers forever. That morning, I learned that was true. The memory of my whipping will be uppermost in my mind for the remainder of my days.
Mercifully, my whipping had been a light one of only five strokes but its intensity served to focus my mind on avoiding any future whipping at all costs. I would, in future, apply myself diligently to all instructions given to me by my overseers and I would work hard to please my Master.
Over the past six weeks, I'd suffered the occasional blow from Sir Conn's whip and thinking back on this, I realised that he'd treated me lightly. True, there had been some pain as his whip fell across my exposed back but it primary purpose was to rouse me from my inattention to my duties and startle me into action rather than to punish me.
However, there was a distinction between the occasional cut of the whip given by Sir Conn and the whipping I'd received from Sir Regis. I won't exaggerate and call my punishment at Sir Regis's hands a flogging. That would be to diminish the suffering of all those of my fellow slaves who have experienced severe flogging.
What I'd experienced from Sir Conn's whip was an incentive to do better; what I'd suffered under Sir Regis was punishment and there was shame and humiliation in this for me.
Over the coming days, the whip's pain will diminish but it will be replaced with a feeling of deep shame. Perhaps that is the whip's true legacy.
At society's instigation, a slave lives a degraded life! It is one of unremitting hard labour over long hours, strict discipline and harsh treatment. These are the outward manifestations of slavery and they are there for all to see.
But what's not obvious to the disinterested observer is the slave's inner suffering. Within the tumult of his emotions there is the sense of his own worthlessness at his lowly status together with the deep depression caused by his condition. And superimposed over these is the forced acceptance of his utter helplessness!
And a slave's helplessness is never more apparent than when he is tied to the whipping-post and ritualistically beaten at his master's behest.
After my whipping, as Sir Regis applied the soothing salve to my welted back, it served as a balm for my pain but not for my soul. I knew the pain would disappear along with the stripes. But my feelings of shame and humiliation occasioned my whipping were deeply imbedded into my psyche and would remain with me throughout my slavery.
It can be said that, for a slave, the whip's pain is a lesson learned but its true aftermath for him is in the further diminishing of his humanity.
After the more or less sedentary nature of the water-wheel, running alongside of Honky proved to be an enjoyable experience. It felt so good to stretch out and to pace myself to his speed. Of course, he is an experienced pony and his running was effortless. I felt the surge of his power and I tried to match it. But of course, he was the one in harness and all the work fell on his shoulders.
But it was an insight into my own future. Within a few months, I would be in harness, running alongside Norge as we pulled our Master's trap. That morning, I can truthfully say I looked forward to that day with all my heart. Uppermost in my mind was my need to be re- united with my beloved Norge.
But that was in the future; I still had two more phases of my pony training to complete before I was considered worthy enough to serve as one of Guy Maratier's personal ponies.
The fact that the two overseers were taking me into the fields to begin the second part of my conditioning weighed heavily on my mind. Very shortly, I would be placed in a team of twenty, heavy-duty drafts and I would spend the next six weeks learning to work as a member of that team. The prospect of this appalled me not least because I was powerless to stop it.
As Honky and I stepped out, it seemed that both Sir Conn and Sir Regis were in high spirits. I didn't hear their conversation over the steady pounding of our feet and the scrunching of the cart's wheels in the gravelled surface of the track leading out into the fields. But their laughter was enough to tell me that they were in high spirits.
For my part, my attention was focused on what was happening in the adjacent fields where the harvest was now underway. I watched as the slaves were bent to their labours and I heard the load shouting of the overseers and the sinister hiss and crack of impatient whips as they sought out and found the back of any slave not giving of his best effort.
But of more interest to me were the flat-top drays slowly lumbering to and from the fields delivering the harvest into the central mill.
I saw the straining, stressed bodies of the wretched drafts as they hauled their impossibly heavy loads out of the fields and into the mills and I noted their brief respite as they quickly trundled the empty drays back out for a return load.
And I fully expected that Sir Regis would soon draw Honky to a halt and harness me into one of those teams.
But the overseers had one more stop to make before that happened. Temporarily, I'd forgotten that Honky and I were to provide them with 'relief' in some quiet secluded spot.
After running for some twenty minutes, I noted the gradual slowing down in Honky's pace; almost as though we'd reached our destination. I hadn't heard Sir Regis instruct him to "slow down" and it seemed to me that he'd acted on his own initiative. If I'd been familiar with the pattern of Sir Regis's and Honky's first run of the morning, I would know that this was a regular occurrence for them. And as I glanced sideways at Honky, I detected an air of eagerness in his demeanour; almost one of anticipation.
We had reached a secluded spot by the broad river - isolated from the work gangs - and one obviously well known to Honky. He and Sir Regis were frequent visitors and had spent much time here.
Honky turned of the roadway and stopped in a cleared grove of tall, stately willows lining the river bank. The spot was idyllic. The overhang of the trees caste dappled shade onto the lush green grass of the river-bank. Here, all was silent save for the gentle rush of the flowing water, the bird chorus high up in the overhead, green canopy and the honking of waterfowl as they splashed and fed in the rushes growing at the river's edge.
I could see that Honky was in a heightened state of excitement. His chest heaved from his accelerated breathing and his body quivered in anticipation of his driver's use of his body.
Earlier, I'd overheard Sir Regis's offer to allow Sir Conn to use Honky's ass for his sexual gratification. In return, Sir Regis was to use me. However, by my Master's orders, my ass was inviolate and so Sir Regis could only use my mouth.
Fondly, I recalled the secluded spot close to the water-wheel where Sir Conn had taken me each morning and where I had honed my skills of giving him oral sex. At first, I'd resented being used in this way but my opposition quickly evaporated in the face of the intense pleasure I received from servicing Sir Conn's cock. Very soon, I'd looked forward to those clandestine moments away from prying eyes when I could pay homage to him. Now it appeared I was to pay similar homage to Sir Regis.
I had mixed feelings about this. After all I'd only ever used my mouth to give pleasure to few others. Among these were Sir Conn and of course Norge. Sir Regis was new to me and I'd met him for the first time that morning and I was in fear and awe of him. And less than an hour ago, he'd whipped me. My concern was that somehow I would disappoint him and make him angry.
Both overseers tumbled out of the trap and quickly stripped naked before plunging into the river. As they splashed playfully in the cool water, Honky and I could only watch enviously at the freedom our overseers enjoyed but which was denied us.
I remember how as a boy, a youth and a man, I had once enjoyed the sheer delight of stripping naked in the heat of the day and cooling down in the waters of this same river.
I watched as Sir Conn and Sir Regis splashed and frolicked in the water and it highlighted the bitter loss of freedom I had suffered the day I became a slave. All the spontaneity had been taken from me and I was made totally dependent on my superiors for even the most trivial things that free men don't give second thought.
Their noisy cavorting scattered the waterfowl and stilled the birds in the tree canopy but their joy of life was so evident. It was a joy that neither Honky nor I shared.
After a while both men grew tired of their water frolics and climbed out onto the river-bank and as I watched, I was reminded of two water gods emerging from the ocean's depths. Briefly they stood side by side and shook the excess water from their bodies. The sun caste dappled shade on their water glistening bodies and their magnificent torsos gave the impression they were carved from the exquisite black marble so popular with Renaissance sculptors.
I felt the first stirrings of my erection and a quick look at Honky showed that he was already rampantly erect.
Obviously, both overseers were comfortable in their common nudity; there were no signs of any inhibitions on their part. Of course, they ignored us and we had no part to play in their sensibilities. Honky and I, as slaves, were non-persons and so they thought no more of disporting naked in front of us than they would in front of a family pet or any other of the domesticated livestock on the plantation.
Honky waited expectantly; always this was a scheduled break in his daily routine with Sir Regis and one he eagerly anticipated. However this morning, there was to be a change in this routine. Sir Conn - and nor Sir Regis - was to fuck him.
But the overseers were in no hurry to use us and we were left to stand quietly as they boisterously wrestled with one another.
I stood entranced by the activities of both Black overseers. Their nude bodies twisted and writhed in one another's strong embrace as each tried to get the upper hand. The contortions of their water gleaming bodies and the intertwining of their limbs playing out before Honky and me were reminiscent of an erotic Olympian tableau on some ancient Grecian urn or an ornament carved from shining ebony.
Together Honky and I watched the play of their strong muscles rippling under the warm mahogany of their skins and the flexing of their powerful buttocks as each sought to secure his footing against the thrusts of his opponent's upper body.
And as they duelled, I caught tantalising glimpses of their straining asses and of their pendulous balls swinging freely between their strong thighs.
I'm not sure how long their jousting continued. But it finished as quickly as it had begun with neither declaring himself the winner. Both Sir Conn and Sir Regis collapsed laughing onto the grass and lay side by side to recover from their exertions. Both rested with their bodies outstretched; Sir Regis reclined on his back using his elbows as support and Sir Conn on his front with his folded arms serving as a cushion for his head.
This gave Honky and me an unimpeded view of Sir Regis's prodigious cock lying at rest on top of his balls and an exquisite view of the rounded orbs of Sir Conn's curvaceous ass.
I was enthralled by the erotic spectacle of these two proudly naked Black overseers who were quite obviously my physical superiors.
Lying side by side, their conversation was interspersed with ribald laughter and I wondered if Honky and I were the subjects of their humour.
Suddenly, their conversation was interrupted by Sir Conn's startled cry of surprise as Sir Regis playfully slapped his ass and I heard his comment.
"Right then, Conn! Let's have you up on your feet. It's time we attended to these two white boys and give them what they're both panting for."
Hastily, Sir Conn scrambled to his feet and with Sir Regis, he walked towards Honky and me. As they approached, my eyes were transfixed on their cocks which showed their burgeoning interest in the two of us.
Regis wasted no time in unfastening us. As he was unharnessed, Honky, as though he was acting on cue, fell to the ground, placed himself on all fours and positioned his ass ready for his coupling. Obviously, his driver had trained him well.
Unsure of what to do, I stood hesitantly and waited for Sir Regis's instruction.
As he surveyed me, His nose wrinkled in disgust at the unsavoury condition of my body.
"You stink to high heaven, boy! Get into the river and clean yourself up."
I needed no second bidding; I ran to the river and took a high, flying jump into the water. Eagerly, I splashed around - oh how good it felt - but my high-spirits earned me a stern rebuke from Sir Regis.
"Stop fooling around, Dumbass. I told you to clean yourself up. Now get to it."
Subdued, I stood waist-deep in the water and washed my body. I used my hands both as soap and sponge and washed away the accumulated sweat, filth and other detritus of the past six weeks. Several times, I plunged beneath the water, resurfaced and rubbed my hands through the stubbled hair on my scalp. I palmed my hands down over my chest and belly and I paid particular attention to my genitals and ass-crack. How pleasant it felt.
Momentarily, I had a sense of the freedom I'd once enjoyed and taken for granted. As I cavorted in the river, I was like a small boy or an exuberant youth and I was content to luxuriate in the almost sensuous feel of the water's coolness against my naked flesh. Once more I was called back to the grim reality of my day by Sir Regis's angry shout to.
"Get out of the water, NOW!"
Sheepishly, I scrambled out of the water and up the steep incline of the river's bank to where Sir Regis stood waiting with his cane in his hand. As I crawled onto the grassy verge Sir Regis playfully swiped my ass with his cane and ordered me to my knees.
As I knelt, I looked to where Honky was crouching. His ass faced towards me and I could see his low hanging balls suspended between his strong thighs. Expectantly, his head was turned to his rear waiting for developments.
"What are you waiting for Conn?" Sir Regis asked. "Can't you see Honky is ready and rearing to go? It's time for you to get stuck in!"
I'm not sure if Sir Regis comment about "getting stuck in" was a deliberate play on words or the first thing that came to mind. But Sir Conn needed no second bidding and he took Sir Regis's injunction ... literally.
I watched - with just a touch of envy - as Sir Conn positioned himself behind the kneeling pony and placed the head of his cock at the entrance to Honky's body. Honky's response was both enthusiastic and immediate. He relaxed his body as he pushed his ass back against Sir Conn's engorged member and his willingness to take it into the warm recess of his body was clearly evident.
Sir Conn's enthusiasm equalled that of Honky's; he dispensed with all niceties and with several mighty thrusts of his hips his swollen cock was soon buried deep within the pony's rectum. Honky's initial gasp of surprise at this invasion of his body soon gave way to appreciative grunts and softs moans of pleasure.
I was envious of the sight being played out before me and I was jealous of Honky. Each morning for the past six weeks, I'd knelt before Sir Conn and I'd taken his prodigious member into my mouth. In some foolish way, I felt I had some claim on my handler's cock and I was resentful of it being used on Honky. To date, I'd only ever taken it into my mouth but that morning I wished I was in Honky's place.
As I watched Sir Conn fucking the pony, I was fascinated by the co-ordinated play of his back muscles, the thrusting of his powerful hips and the flexing and tightening of his ass-cheeks supported by the two columns of his corded thighs. The early morning sunlight filtering down through the trees caste dancing shadows on his body and his sex induced sweat beaded on the rich mahogany of his skin.
I heard Sir Conn's heightened breathing and the slapping of his hard, black flesh against the pony's yielding, white ass and enviously, I heard Honky's vocalising of his mounting passion.
I was entranced by the erotic spectacle of their rutting and all my attention was focused on Sir Conn's powerful riding of the slave beneath him. The young overseer's demeanour was one of total disregard for the slave. Leaning forward, he took hold of Honky's grotesque mane and used it to steady the pony's body against the increasing violence of his thrusting.
All of this distracted me and I'd forgotten why I was on my knees. However, Sir Regis hadn't forgotten and his sudden cuff to my right ear re-focused my attention on him. He tapped the side of my mouth with cock and ordered me to.
"Open your mouth, boy! You have a job to do. Stay focused and don't concern yourself with what's happening to Honky."
My world was centred on Sir Regis and I gazed with awe at his cock. Even in its flaccid state it was impressive. His was only the second black man's I'd ever seen and yet I wasn't altogether a stranger to black cock. After all, I'd been servicing Sir Conn's on a daily basis for the past six weeks.
As I knelt at Sir Regis's feet, the thought uppermost in my mind was about the enormity of the task in front of me and how fortunate I was to have had those six weeks of practise. Without them, I doubt that I would have been equal to the task.
I remembered back over those six weeks and how difficult it had been at first for me to take Sir Conn's cock into my mouth. I recalled my initial inability to do so and of my desperate struggles against the unaccustomed invasion of my throat. Sir Conn was annoyed with me and he'd cuffed my head before grabbing hold of my ears and using them as handles to hold my face against his groin. There was no escaping his insistence and yet I struggled in his firm grasp. I recalled my gagging and spluttering as I tried desperately to meet his impatient demands and of my panicky belief that my air supply had been choked off.
My desperation was matched by Sir Conn's impatience and it would have to be said my first attempts at giving oral satisfaction to a Black man was a dismal failure. Certainly Sir Conn believed so and in his frustration, he berated me and told me I must do better or suffer the consequences of my disobedience.
Consequently, the remainder of that first day was filled with trepidation for what awaited me the next morning should I fail to give Sir Conn the satisfaction he demanded from me.
But it has to be said that all things can be mastered and with perseverance and my determination to do better, I did improve to such an extent that Sir Conn often affectionately referred to me as his "white cocksucker".
Sir Regis was impatient for me to start and he pushed my head down onto his cock. Yet I did have time to do a quick appraisal of his prodigious genitalia and his cock even exceeded Sir Conn's in both length and girth. This was confirmation of a thought that had been running through my mind these past few weeks, namely - "were all Black men as well-endowed as my handler?"
Sir Regis gave an eloquent answer to my question. Indeed they are!
Sir Regis was circumcised - as was Sir Conn - and I wondered if that was accepted practice among the Black Race. But the question was academic and I wasn't there to consider such matters. Sir Regis required more urgent and practical things of me.
Even in its semi-aroused state his cock was notable for its length and thickness. As I noted the swelling of the heavy veins on the surface of the blue-black shaft, I felt a stirring in my own loins and the flaring mushroom shaped glans beckoned for my attention.
Eagerly, I leant forward and began to caress it with my moist tongue. As I did so, I felt a slight shiver run through Sir Regis's body and I heard his soft sigh of anticipation. Emboldened, I ran the tip of my tongue down along the underside of his shaft to his scrotum where I paused long enough to take each ball into my mouth and suckle on it. I savoured both the scent and taste of his manhood and my own cock responded in the only way it could.
But Sir Regis was becoming impatient and he grabbed my head to guide my mouth to his cockhead. Once more, he used his prick to tap the side of my mouth and once more I was commanded to.
"Open wide Dumbass! Take my cock into your mouth."
As I looked hesitantly at Sir Regis, it wasn't my ability to satisfy him that worried me. Rather it was my ability to take his massive, thickly veined prick into my mouth and throat.
I tried to obey but I struggled to take the massive organ into my mouth's embrace. Over the past six weeks the muscles of my jaws and throat had been exercised extensively by Sir Conn and they were relaxed. Yet, try as hard as I might to accommodate Sir Regis, I failed. And I failed dismally.
Sir Regis held my head in a vice-like grip and forced my head down on to his cock. Then with a powerful thrust, he rammed it deep within my mouth.
I battled during those first few moments; the bulbous cockhead filled my mouth and my throat muscles closed up in an attempt to stop any further intrusion. Impatiently, Sir Regis grabbed hold of my ears and slammed into me and berated me for my poor performance. He called me a useless, worthless white slave and told me of the great honour he - a Black man - was paying me in allowing me to suck his cock. And as he scolded me, he continued to box my ears as ordered me to.
"Try harder, Dumbass or I'll whip your sorry white ass. Now open up and take it all!"
He ignored my gagging and my spluttering and through my struggling panic I heard him tell me to relax and breath through my nose. Mercifully, he paused with his thrusting long enough to allow me to settle into a pattern of deep rhythmic, nasal breathing. With each breathe, my panic subsided and the muscles of my throat relaxed enough to allow me to swallow a little more of his cock into its depths.
Dutifully, I applied myself to giving Sir Regis the pleasure he demanded of me. I drew on my past experiences with Sir Conn, Norge and my Master's guests at his soiree and worked hard to please the Black overseer. And I had to admit to myself that it felt good. Very Good! It was becoming more pleasurable for me and I hoped it was proving so for him.
And it was soon obvious that I was pleasing him. I felt the tightening of Sir Regis's body, the arching of his back and the clenching of his ass as he continued to thrust into me. I listened to his soft moans of pleasure and noted his rising passion. My bobbing head kept time with the to and fro thrusts of his hips and we were lost to all around us.
And yet, vaguely, in the background, I did heard Honky's loud, appreciative grunting as Sir Conn plunged deep into him, but I paid them scant attention.
Temporarily, I forgot that I was a slave and that Sir Regis was my superior. Then, I began to feel the first small bursts of his impending ejaculation and to taste the sweetness of his essence.
With our rising ardour, we quickened our pace. Simultaneously, my mouth siphoned and my throat muscles massaged his cock; stimulating and coaxing it into a final, climactic eruption. Once more, I felt the arching of his back and the tight clenching of his buttocks; my ears rang from his loud, exultant cry as the floodgates of his passion opened to overwhelm me. Wave after wave filled my mouth to overflowing and in my eagerness to please him I swallowed hard. I owed it to him not to allow one drop of his precious semen to spill on the ground.
I waited patiently as his cock wilted in my mouth and for our laboured breathing to subside. I looked up into his face and I was rewarded with a pat on the head. I saw the beads of sweat trickling down his chest and over his belly and I found the heady scent of his perspiration intoxicating.
I remained on my knees and maintained a respectful silence as I waited for Sir Regis's next command.
I watched intently while Sir Conn continued his hard riding of Honky and I heard his loud, exultant cry of satisfaction as he climaxed inside the pony's quivering body. Breathing heavily, he lay prone along Honky's sweat covered back as his cock wilted and his breathing returned to normal.
Obviously, Honky had pleased Sir Conn. By way of satisfaction he gave Honky a series of hard slaps on the ass as he expressed his thanks to Sir Regis.
"Man! That was so good! Regis, your pony is one helluva fuck!"
"I told you he was, Conn. I said you'd enjoy him. And your boy is a great cocksucker by the way. We'll have to do this again if you're up for it?"
"YES! YES! Please Regis. Tomorrow?"
"Conn! Your enthusiasm shows your satisfaction with my pony. I'm glad Honky gave you a good ride. I've never had a complaint with him. He's always ready and rearing to go. What a pity we can't use Dumbass here. I'd love to find out if his ass is as half as good as his mouth. It's a pity his ass is out of bounds."
I listened as the two overseers discussed Honky and me. It was obvious both were pleased with our performances. I wondered whether these interactions would become a regular feature of my day and would they continue to use Honky and me for their sexual gratification.
Then I remembered that I am to work in a team of drafts and that most likely this would limit Sir Regis's access to me. Still, I hoped that somehow he'd find a way around this. I hope so!
"Tell me Regis. Did Dumbass satisfy you too?"
"Yes eventually. But he started out badly though. Coughing and spluttering as though he was choking. But a few cuffs to the ears soon brought him into line. However, once I got him started I had no complaints. I have to hand it to you, Conn. You have trained him well. I love his tongue action by the way. Did you train him or does that come naturally?"
"Dumbass is a natural cocksucker, Regis. It's one of his better features."
"I'd have to agree with you on that Conn. Are we are both satisfied with the two slaves? If so, do you think we should reward them? What do you say Conn? Have they earned it?"
"Well I'm happy with Honky's efforts and obviously Dumbass pleased you. But what type of a reward do you have in mind Regis? I would think allowing them to service our cocks is reward enough for them."
"It's nothing too generous. I thought a portion of apple would show that we are pleased with them. I sometimes give Honky a slither of apple as a reward after I've used him. He's always very appreciative and I think it makes him perform better the next time in the hope for further reward."
"I'm ok with that Regis. Look, I'm sorry to break up the party, but shouldn't we be moving on? I mean we need to get Rafe out and into a team before Claymore shows up. I think he'd be unhappy if Dumbass isn't in harness and hitched to a cart on his next round of inspection."
"You're right Conn! We should get a move on. Look, will you hitch Honky to the cart and secure Rafe? I'll cut an apple and they can chew on it as they run."
To be continued.......