This story contains graphic but completely fictional depictions of sex among men and men, and men and underage boys and/or girls, and even nekkid women show up now and then. If this offends you, if it is illegal for you to read or download this, or if you are under 18, please go away.
Seaward Plantation
War clouds chapter thirteen
In popular myth, the Old Year is always depicted as an old man, tired and worn, and the New Year as a baby. As December of 1861 rolled over into January of 1862, the people of Seaward Island had good reason to be reminded of those images. In the space of about a week, all three of the women of Seaward who were great with child--Portia, Helen, and Athena--gave birth.
It would be inaccurate to say that peace had descended on the island since the departure of Ezekiel Thomas, but it was certainly true that a greater sense of security, even normality, was gradually growing in people's minds. The presence of the Union Navy in the area was a comfort. The Navy was attempting a blockade of the coast, and although its resources were stretched thin and blockade runners seemed to move constantly in and out of Charleston Harbor, there had been no more attempts by Confederate forces on Seaward Island itself. Every so often a Federal warship would stop and collect information from the people on the island as to ship movements in and out of Charleston observed from the cemetery lookout. That continuing if intermittent presence of the Navy seemed enough to deter any further attacks.
Lieutenant Ezekiel Thomas was sometimes the officer who landed at the pier for the information. So far he had been unable to arrange any lengthy shore leave--although he was hard at work convincing his superiors of the need for him to spend another week at Seaward! But he was warmly greeted for the short stops ashore that he was able to make, and he always left with a wistful expression.
In the three months or so since Port Royal had fallen to Union forces, mail boats became even more sporadic. Those seas were now a war zone, and every ship that the Navy could intercept was stopped and questioned. Only once since November had a letter arrived from Marcus. His unit had encountered some heavier fighting and was moving into Virginia just south of the capital. The tone remained upbeat, but the Seaward family feared that it concealed much hardship.
As December turned into January, the mood on Seaward was a strange mixture of hope, fear, and hilarity. The three babies were due to arrive at any moment. Friendly speculation as to who the biological fathers might be was constant, with Bundit, of course, taking a full share of good natured ribbing since he was possibly the father of all three. Of major concern was the ability to provide good nursing and care, since the three expectant mothers, and especially Portia, were good providers of maternity care on the island. But never before had all three delivered near the same time! Cass and Juno prepared carefully, and they made it clear to Apple that she would need to begin learning the craft of assisting at childbirth. It seemed not to occur to anyone to train the men, or even ask their opinion.
When the new babies came, it seemed as if they came quickly, although it took about a week all told for the three to be born. One crisp night Appleby and the twins were giving Samuel, Aaron, and Hammond some reading and mathematics lessons before the fireplace in the library of the main house--the Ashley men were making great strides in their education, manners, and ways of speaking. Suddenly there was a drumming of footsteps on the steps up to the verandah, the banging of the outside door, and then Apple appeared in the doorway. "Come!" she said, with hand upraised, to summon the men. Appleby could not rise for a moment, so shockingly strong was his sense of deja-vu. It was exactly what her aunt Helen, at a little less than her age, had done to announce Apple's own impending birth, now nearing thirteen years ago. Appleby thought how the world certainly turned in circles, pushed by blood and love. But then the urgency of the moment took over and Appleby, with the rest of his friends, rushed out of the house. But then they stopped short on the lawn. "Who? Which one? Where?" asked Pan and Bacchus alternately.
Turning around, Apple stamped her feet with impatience: "It's Helen! Come quickly!"
Through the cold winter night the group went swiftly to Helen's cabin, finding a crowd on the porch already. The women were all inside attending to the birth, while the men shuffled nervously on the porch, feeling the age-old displacement of men that emerges from every room of childbirth. Gasps and cries in Helen's voice could be heard from time to time inside, and the men winced and inwardly groaned, feeling the shared guilt of the male for an inability to shoulder some of that pain.
Finding Bundit, Appleby put his arm around his shoulders and hugged him tight. The two regarded each other, smiled and nodded. It was a friendly paradox on the island that although parenting was shared among all, and the sense of family encompassed the entire island, still the knowledge of biological ties created perhaps an extra bond between adult and child. And Helen had named Appleby and Bundit as the most likely choices to be the father of the new child. It would be the friendliest of rivalries for the remaining moments until the child was born.
Some minutes wore on with busy, focused women inside and men, chatting nervously, on the outside. And then that sound like no other, that announces the turning over of the world and its generations one more time, pierced the air. The sound of more frantic activity from inside the cabin contrasted with the frozen tableau on the porch. The unearthly crying of the new baby signaled robust health....but Helen? Only a little while passed, but it seemed like ages, and then Portia pushed her own pregnant girth heavily through the door and announced, with a huge grin, "It's a boy. Helen is well." Then nodding to Appleby and Bundit, she said, "Come see!"
The two might never have made it through the door, so eager to appear nonchalant were they, with so much repetition of "After you" or "No, no, after you." Finally Portia simply grasped Appleby's hand and pulled him into the cabin, with Bundit hard on his heels.
The unmistakable smells of childbirth filled the air of the cabin--not offensive, but a powerful totem of life and the female power to bring forth that life. Helen lay against a pillow, her dark skin shining lightly with perspiration. Steaming pots of herbal mixtures brewed on the cast iron stove. Portia and Athena rested heavily in chairs, grim smiles the tokens of presentiments of their own coming fates, while Cass and Juno bustled around, instructing young Apple all the while in the ways of midwifery. On Helen's breast suckled the new baby. As if approaching the Holy of Holies in a temple, Appleby and Bundit crept forward.
Helen smiled at them and drew the cover back some. The baby pulled away from her dark nipple and stared unfocused into the new world. He had a light brown skin, thin lips, with round, brown eyes and loose brown curls. Helen looked at Appleby and said, "I think it's yours!"
Bundit nodded his agreement, clapped his hands and put an affectionate hand on Appleby's shoulder, pushing him forward to greet his child. Appleby could barely control his feeling of gratitude. The world had borrowed his only other son, but seemed to have given him this one in return. Tears coursed down his cheeks as he put his hand on the curly head in blessing, too moved to speak. Helen whispered, in the silent space, "I wish Papa was here to see him."
Appleby looked sharply at her, and understood. All over again, he felt the pain of Priam's loss. But what the world takes it sometimes gives back. Marcus had gone away--oh, he hoped not for long!--but had given him this new son. And the world's war had taken away Priam, then brought this new boychild into the world.....
"I think he is here to see him," said Appleby, softly. "I think he is here. Let us name this new one Priam." Helen nodded, smiling hugely, as everyone in the room whispered and buzzed with approval, and the news of Appleby's suggestion quickly made it to the porch, where muted sounds of applause were heard. And so young Priam, namesake of his departed heroic grandfather, was welcomed into the community. Appleby bent down to kiss the infant once more, then Helen. "Alright, now, give us room to work," muttered Cass, and Juno gently grabbed an arm each of Appleby and Bundit and steered them toward the door. With backward glances they left the cabin and stepped onto the verandah, where applause, back slaps, and hugs greeted both, but Appleby most of all.
Eventually Apple came out onto the porch of the cabin and drew herself up with as much authority as her nearly- thirteen years could muster. "You are making too much noise! Go home to your beds if you please!" she said, then turned regally to go back into the cabin to resume her duties. Their high spirits undeterred but their manners subdued, the men bade each other good night and began moving off into the night.
Wishing others well and accepting their good wishes, Appleby was among the last to leave. Aaron and Samuel left with him, Hammond having gone a little ahead to the Ashley men's cabin. As they passed it, Aaron asked, "Master Mark, would you like to come in for a celebration drink? We have a bottle.... well, I guess it is your bottle after all, but it's from the cellar."
"It is everyone's bottle, Aaron, and yes, I would be pleased to come in and lift a glass," said Appleby. He did not worry that Troy would wonder where he was. Although the two had been sharing a room and bed for nearly two months now (and would for the rest of their lives together), neither one fretted over where the other was, or with whom.
With Aaron on one side and Samuel on the other, clapping his back and wishing him congratulations, Appleby walked up the steps of their porch and entered the cabin. Hammond turned, his face revealing a pleased surprise at the sight of Appleby with his friends. A bottle of brandy was produced and glasses half-filled. Toasts were made, the health of the mother and child proposed, and ribald jokes concerning sexual prowess made at Appleby's expense. In fact, as the merry hour wore on and the bottle emptied among the four of them, the more explicit the fun seemed to become. Yet it was not at all inappropriate among these four friends who had shared so much and so many intimacies, sometimes not under the happiest of circumstances.
Appleby, sitting next to Samuel, had been rubbing the youth's neck affectionately for some minutes before fully realizing what he was doing. His legs were stretched out, feet on an ottoman that he shared with Hammond who sat across from him, and their feet had been playfully pressing into each other for a while as well. And Aaron, sitting on the floor, was leaning against Appleby's thigh on one side while he draped his arm over Samuel's thigh on the other. These gentle caresses, begun without strategy or design, led to the gradual dawning of desire. Samuel looked at Appleby, who leaned over to kiss his parted lips. Aaron's hands slid up Appleby's and Samuel's thighs to stroke and rub. Hammond leaned forward to take Appleby's stockinged feet in his hands, then removed the stockings and, shifting to his knees, began to massage and kiss his feet.
All four began to be aware of a mounting passion, of a sexual tension in the air. Caresses and rubbings became more deliberate, kisses more passionate. Aaron stood up and, turning to Appleby and Samuel, pulled his clothing off quickly, standing naked before them, his rust-brown body beautiful in the lamplight, the color a pool of desire to sink into, the muscles inviting pillows on which to rest. Samuel stood and Aaron, dropping to his knees, pulled down his trousers and undergarments as Hammond began tugging on Appleby's clothing as he sat. With soft moans of urgency and whispers of delight, all four were soon naked in the lamplight.
Aaron looked at the bed, which he usually shared with Samuel. "Too small for four!" he whispered to himself! But running to it, he brought back its pillows and a blanket which he spread on the floor before the warm cast iron stove. Turning back to his friends, he saw that Hammond and Appleby were standing, pressed tightly together, their lips locked in a passionate kiss while their hands cupped each other's bottoms. Aaron tugged Appleby away and led him, with Hammond following, to the blanket on the floor.
Appleby lay on his back and the three black men clustered around him. It would be wrong to say that the people of Seaward were color blind. They were very conscious of color differences because that was such a source of joy to them. Now it seemed especially so for Appleby, as he felt himself washed over by waves of chocolate brown. Hard, squirming bodies entangled with his tanned white skin, muscles moved beneath fudge dark skin. When he had enjoyed Samuel's thin, still-boyish body for a few moments he turned to embrace Hammond's large, muscular bulk. When he tired of rubbing the tiny, crisp snakes of hair on Hammond's head he ran his fingers through the dense, straight mop of hair on Aaron's head, and then through the dense, nappy tufts on Samuel's scalp. Appleby pulled down hard on a prominent, rounded, up- turning African bottom, pulling a black body down into his own groin, and then he lifted his head to suck the dangling, full, purple black ballsack that swung just above his face while with his fingers he kneaded the bubble butt above it, spreading the cheeks to reveal a densely black, wrinkled asshole.
The three Ashley men likewise delighted in Appleby's tanned white skin, long light brown hair, and muscular body. All three had been shown kindness for many years by this white man, so in contrast to the disrespect given them by Robert Ashley, so they delighted in this different, white body for which they could express real love. Long, thick, brown and purple black penises slid up and down the sides of Appleby's hips while another rampant reddish brown dickhead oozed precum onto his belly.
The intensity of kissing, grasping, pumping increased, and then a pot of lubricant was brought from a nearby table. Remaining on his back, Appleby raised and spread his knees in invitation. All three black men began greasing their rampant dicks while Samuel also loosened Appleby's anus with slick fingers. The smallest of the three men, Samuel positioned himself between Appleby's legs, placed his cockhead in position, and pushed. It entered easily. Remaining in a squat on his haunches, Samuel had a good view of his slick, black cock sliding in and out of Appleby's white bottom, and of the muscular plain of the white man's belly and chest. Appleby propped his feet on Samuel's hips as he enjoyed the view of the thin black youth's chest and abdomen flexing and working rhythmically beneath dark skin as he fucked his butt.
Samuel threw back his head and moaned, calling out "Master Mark! Master Mark!" as he pushed his groin forward, holding it there while he shot spurts of semen into the white man's rectum. He held that position quivering and gasping, and then pulled out with a plop and crawled around to lie shuddering and panting beside the white man, nuzzling at his neck and shoulder.
Aaron was next. There was little need for preliminaries, as his rampant dick and Appleby's open anus were both ready. Sliding inside in one push, Aaron stretched his legs back straight as Appleby's legs closed over his back. Aaron held himself up off of Appleby's torso with palms flat on the bed on either side of the white man's chest. Now began a quick, rhythmic motion of Aaron's hips, while his breathing through parted lips increased. He and Appleby locked eyes. The white man rubbed his palms over the copper-hued brown of Aaron's chest, thumbing his nipples, tweaking and pinching them. But their eyes remained locked. Especially when Aaron whispered urgently, "I'm coming," and then pushed his groin forward three and then four times as he bucked and humped, squirting semen into Appleby's secret place. But their gaze never wavered as each looked deeply into each other, seeming to see a deeper place of connection in each other's eyes. Spent, Aaron collapsed forward and down and lay there with his cheek on Appleby's chest, gathering breath. He rolled off to the side away from Samuel as Hammond got into position.
The large black man's penis was so large that Appleby winced as it entered him, despite the preparations he had received. Hammond also stretched his legs out, but lowered his torso flat onto Appleby's. The white man's pelvis was cocked up to accommodate this position, and the black man's penis began pumping in and out of Appleby's rectum, which was leaking semen with every stroke. Now Appleby really reveled in the sweet, silky depths of black skin, surrounded as he was on all sides and impaled from within by fudge brown. Hammond whispered Appleby's name over and over as he bit the white man's pink nipples, licked his chest, nibbled his neck and ear. Appleby's own rampant cock, fueled by the stimulation his prostate was receiving, lay straight up between his and Hammond's belly, and the large black man's rhythmic pumping stimulated the reddish white organ as well.
Appleby tightened his legs' grasp of Hammond's back even as he pulled the large, muscular black bulk down into him, and then his own orgasm came in waves, his penis shooting out great gouts of semen in the close, warm space between their bodies. The tightening of his anus that came with the orgasm likewise pushed Hammond over the edge, and with a roar he tensed, curling his torso downward into the white man, the two locked together in a vast spasm of ecstasy. Finished, he lay there exhausted, panting, as his still- swollen dick plopped out of the white man's anus. Little streams of semen ran down Appleby's sides and from his gaping bottom.
Long minutes of fondling and expressions of love passed as the men recovered themselves. Appleby marveled again at the pool of deep brown into which he had fallen, the close surround of hard muscle under smooth skin. Even Hammond's bulk felt like a warm chocolate blanket atop Appleby. Utterly at peace, wrapped in sensual pleasure, Appleby fell asleep like that, joined by his companions, and that is where the morning sun found them the next day.
Three days later Appleby and Troy lay entwined together, sleeping soundly in the dark night, when they felt a hand shoving and slapping them. Apple again. "It's Portia!" she said, then darted across the hall to rouse the rest of the men. Hector and Bundit were the likely candidates to be the father of Portia's child, so they exhibited a little more nervousness than the others, or at least as much nervousness as can be mustered at three in the morning. "Why can't these women deliver right after lunch?" grumbled Cassius, yet nobody really objected to be included in the impending birth in that way. Yawning and stumbling, some detouring to the outhouse, the men joined the group on Portia's porch.
A similar scene was played out, repeating the events of the birth of little Priam three days before. Portia's cries could be heard every now and then, and the men stamped and huddled in the cool January night. Again there were jests and speculations directed at Hector and Bundit, with perhaps a little more good-natured ribbing for Bundit since it was clear he had not fathered baby Priam.
Once again the wail of a newborn pierced the night air, shocking the men into silence and anticipation. Sounds of frantic activity in the cabin. Slow minutes walked by.....mysterious sounds inside....the welcome sound of Portia's voice......the mewling of the baby. Then Athena's pregnant bulk filled the doorway. Smiling broadly she said, "A boy, again! All are well," and motioned Hector and Bundit to come forward. They needed no coaxing, but this time came willingly while the rest of the men jammed the doorway high and low, craning their heads around to see the sight.
Portia looked radiant, her light brown skin paler than usual but Cass and Juno assured everyone that she would do well. The child sucked hungrily at her breast. Pulling him away gently, Portia pulled his blanket partially away. He was a medium brown, with a few tightly curled hairs on his scalp and full lips. "Yours," she said, smiling at Hector, on whose dark chocolate face a reddish flush spread. Once again Bundit applauded mother and father both, the graceful "loser" for a second time in a row. Hector, smiling hugely but with his head ducking down shyly, approached the bed, gingerly picking the child up in his arms, lost in the miracle he was holding. Then glancing at Portia, he asked, "What shall we call him?"
Portia looked thoughtfully at everyone, then at Hector. "I have been thinking," she whispered. "I think, to remind us.... to be a witness..... we should name him Free." Hector looked surprised for a moment, then nodded an agreement and smiled down at baby Free. Again the room buzzed with approval and excited discussion, which spread to the group on the porch. Once again the men were shooed away, news of the birth was carried to Helen in her cabin, and Seaward moved forward into the next day and the next, one life richer.
When Apple burst through the door from the verandah at ten in the morning three days later, the men in the house never thought she was bringing news of Athena's delivery. It was such a civilized hour to give birth! But Apple was doing just that, and was going around to the dwellings and buildings of the island summoning people from their work.
Now the two men who might be the new father--Cassius and, yet again, Bundit--came in for some joshing, but Bundit most of all, as the men stood in the bright winter sunlight of the porch and lawn in front of Athena's cabin. The smaller children, awake for once at a birth, peered in through the windows to see what could be seen. The old familiar sounds of struggle, trial, and hope could be heard clearly from within.
Again, the unearthly wail of a newborn baby was heard, and all the milling around stopped as everyone focused on the sound. More minutes passed and then Apple appeared at the door. All the men who were scattered on the lawn and porch closed in for the news, Cassius and Bundit first among them. Enjoying the moment of command, Apple neutrally surveyed the group left and right. Then she broke into a dazzling grin and cried, "It's a girl, at last! Mama is doing well! Papa Cassius, Papa Bundit....come."
The two expectant men entered the house while the rest of the men peered through the windows above the crouching children or filled the doorway. The events of the week repeated themselves. The two men, named as candidates for fatherhood of the latest arrival, approached the bed. A weary and perspiring Athena pulled the baby away from her breast to show it to the men. The tiny one had a thick shock of straight black hair, light golden brown skin, and little almond eyes that opened and closed in the unaccustomed light. Athena spoke one word: "Bundit!" The whole gathering, inside and out, erupted in joy and laughter, none more than Cassius who was sympathizing with poor Bundit's good-natured torment at the hands of the other people of Seaward. Bundit picked up the baby, nodding and smiling, and held her close.
"What do you think for a name?" asked Athena, softly. Bundit looked at the baby, then his eyes seemed to look out a great distance, through and beyond the walls of the cabin. Then back to the child: "I think it cost me a lot to learn what kind of a place Seaward is. Just as we named the last child Free to remind us, let us name this one Haven as a reminder as well." And the people all approved.
It was just two weeks later that the alarm bells on the cemetery hill and at the pier rang, as a large warship appeared on the horizon, sailing for Seaward. It dropped anchor off the island and a longboat rowed in to the pier. Lieutenant Ezekiel Thomas stepped onto the pier, a canvas bag slung over his shoulder. To everyone's pleased surprise, the longboat then pushed off to return to the ship without him.
Pumping hands left and right, giving and receiving hugs, the youth explained that he had been granted one day ashore on Seaward. Then he added that he was shortly to be reassigned to naval operations nearer the national capital, in Chesapeake Bay and on the Potomac River. Happiness at Thomas's arrival became seasoned with the knowledge that he would be gone afterwards, and who knew for how long?
The group trooped back up toward the main house, welcoming Thomas for the short stay and enjoying their time with him. It was a strange experience for him: he felt as if he had come home, but it was a home that he would leave the next day. Hammond, Aaron, and Samuel asked shyly, deferentially, if he wished to spend the night in their cabin. He accepted with delight, the thought of an evening of sensual pleasure now opening up before him.
But first--by luck, Thomas had arrived on the day when the community intended to have the ceremony that Appleby first witnessed in regards to the baby Apple, the ritual to name a child. There was to be a feast first, and then a celebration around a bonfire at the cemetery. Thomas eagerly joined in the preparations, helping to set up tables in the hay barn and to bring in food and drinks.
It was a joyful celebration, the new babies wrapped tightly against the cool air but passed from arm to arm. Thomas seemed not to know what to do with each one as he or she was handed to him, but warmly felt a sense of inclusion in the community. Affectionate hugs and shoulder rubs, especially from Aaron, Hammond, and Samuel, put him a good mood of anticipation of what was to come in their cabin that evening. Toasts were made, the health of the mothers and babies proposed, the wisdom of their names celebrated.
During the conversation, Thomas made a remark that drew the attention of all and, for a moment, brought chattering to a halt. "Appleby, Portia," he said, "I intend to try to find Marcus. I will be where we think he is stationed. I can make it part of my business, official and personal, to inquire as to his regiment, where it is located, and then to find him. Should I convey any message to him from you?"
All hearts were full. What could be conveyed in mere words, in letters? That which the people of Seaward would say to Marcus, or would say to Priam if they could, could not be expressed in a letter or a speech. Nevertheless, everyone had a contribution, a good wish, an expression of love. Thomas was obliged to borrow paper and pen to write it all down. Appleby and Portia said that they would write their own letter in the morning and give it to Thomas. A great sense of anticipation grew with the expectation that the lieutenant might make contact with Marcus, and perhaps even persuade him to return.
The feast was concluded and everything cleared away. By then the night was dark, although clear and cold, and a full moon shone above. Taking lamps, the group trooped to the cemetery hilltop as it had so many times before. The ritual was repeated to the children as they went, each child learning again a sense of the special welcome each one had received to the world and to Seaward. A bonfire was burning brightly, warming the winter air, as they reached the cemetery.
Each child was lifted up--this time by Appleby, most reluctantly from a sense of undeserving, but he was the oldest male now. He insisted that Cass and Juno, as the true elders of the community, help him, though, and he let them do the honors alone as baby Priam was named and dedicated. The two old women performed perfectly, but Cass could hardly speak as she named her grandson for her dear, departed husband and life's mate. Appleby remembered Apple's naming ceremony and the sweet intimacy he and Priam had enjoyed alone afterwards, once everyone else had left. Was it his imagination, or was the spirit of Priam there with the rest of them, nodding his approval?
Stories of the past were rehearsed. Appleby told what he knew of his Aunt Lucy, with other members of the group who remembered her filling in details. Cass and Juno both seemed to know of Lucy's old intimacy with Priam, but it seemed not to have bothered them then and did not bother them now. Other stories of the new children's ancestors were told, with the older children learning anew and remembering. Bundit brought strange tales from far away Siam, the heritage of Wat and now of little Haven.
As the evening grew late, the people left in groups to return to the dwellings of Seaward lower down. Appleby had volunteered to take the watch that night, and so he remained, although with Thomas's warship cruising the waters near Seaward nobody felt any kind of threat that night. Appleby made it out with his spyglass, prowling the waters around Charleston Harbor. He also made out one or two fast ships slipping out of the harbor, but of course there was no way for him to alert the man o' war of the blockade runners. And so Appleby sat, watchful and thoughtful, with anticipation of what the new year would bring and whether it would bring Marcus home.