The Overseer

THE OVERSEER

Part 1

Jack Sprat

Just sittin' in my rockin' chair thinkin' back 'bout those young buck slaves I used to oversee on the plantation. That was before the war. Then the Goddam Yankees came and screwed everything up real good.

My Daddy owned a large cotton plantation. I was born in a big house, a mid-wife helped pop me out. I lived in that house 'til I went to war. Afterwards, There was nothing to return to. The Yanks had burned everything.

At six years old I had my own slave. He was six years old too. He was called Atwood. Wasn't real uncommon for plantation owners children to have their own playmate slaves. Lots of times the slaves would grow up serving their master all of their lives. Atwood stayed as my servant until the war.

Atwood was given to me on my sixth birthday party. He had been bathed 'til he shined and was wearing clean washed clothes. He was led in just after I had blown out the cake candles. He had flashing eyes and a sense of awareness.

"Ah's Atwood. Ah's your new slave and playmate. You'se mah new master. What's yo' name?"

"You call me Master Jason, and I shall play with you right after the party."

After the party, I hurried to find Atwood. "Come on, Atwood. I want to show you my fort."

Atwood looked apprehensively at my small whip. "You ain't goin'' to whup me, is you?"

"Not unless you get real uppity. My Daddy tells me if you get real uppity I can whip you all I want."

"Ah won't get uppity, Master."

Atwood followed me as I ran down the path to the log fort my Daddy had built for me. It was made from real logs and really looked like a fort. It had a ladder to the roof where we could look for imaginary Indians. I would shoot at them with two imaginary rifles. After firing I would hand each rifle back to Atwood for reloading.

Atwood and I played this game a lot but one day our imagine sagged and we climbed from the roof into the main room wondering how we could kill time. A thought came to me. I wondered what Atwoods bare butt looked like.

"Atwood. I want to see your butt."

"But Master.."

"I want you to shuck down. My Daddy says I can whup you if you get uppity.

I giggled as I watched Atwood take off his clothes. I stared at his hard little black peter then touched it. I had him turn around and looked at his butt. I spread his cheeks to see his small pucker then I dropped my pants.

"Here, Atwood you can look at me too."

My little penis was also hard. Atwood put his hand on it. It felt good.

"Do it some more. Did it feel good when I touched yours?" I asked.

"Uh, Huh," Atwood nodded.

"Then let me touch it again."

Our sex play had started. We spent a lot of time in the fort looking, examining and playing with each other in our childish ways.

Between the ages of thirteen and fourteen things started to happen to my body. My dick started to grow. I was seeing signs of fuzz in my crotch and my dick seemed to be uncomfortably hard much of the time.

Now, when Atwood and I fondled each other, our touching seemed intensely stronger and we learned how to jack each other off.

One day, I decided to do a little cat fishin''. Heading to the creek, I came upon a friend. He had his young slave with him. My friend had his pants down, pushing his slaves head into his crotch.

"Hey! Whatcha doin''?"

"Gettin' my cock sucked. Come and watch!"

I moved in very close. This was fascinating. I knelt close to where the action was. The slave was sucking on his masters cock. Then he took it out and licked it like it was an ice cream cone, his tongue moving around, over and under, really lapping.

My friend started to moan, he pulled his dick out of the niggers mouth and started to furiously pull it. The Nigger stayed in front of him with his mouth open. Cum shot from his dick into his slaves mouth. The slave swallowed until his master was done pumping, then licked off the white drops that remained on his dick.

"Want to do it?" my friend asked?

I was hard as a rock but too shy to drop my pants. I shook my head, but could hardly wait to find Atwood. I would make him do it.

The next day, I took Atwood to the fort for more jackoff, peter play, and new ideas. Both of our bodies had now developed into those of young men. One regret, Atwood's peter was bigger than mine.

I stood still as Atwoods black hand felt and played with my balls, tickled my tip, and pulled my peter. I did the same to him. I moved my cock close to his face.

"I want you to put it in your mouth and suck on it."

"But Mass'ah, I've never done anything like that."

"Put it in your mouth, Atwood."

"But Mass'ah..."

"Do it, Atwood."

Atwood slipped back my foreskin. Testing, his tongue came out and gave my tip a quick lick. He paused before trying it a second time. His next lick was longer. His lips parted and he slipped my tip inside, his warm saliva coating everything.

The roughness of his tongue gave new, intense feelings. I pulled his head closer, my cock slipping to the back of his mouth and into his throat. Atwood did not try to pull away.

Giving small thrusts, I gently rotated his head. My cum exploded, making me feel I'd momentarily lost my mind. Atwood swallowed.

"Did that feel good, Massah'? Did I do it right?"

OVERSEER

Part 2

Jack Sprat

A tree house is a boys realm. What a boy does in his tree house is no ones business but his own. My fort served as my tree house. I now used my fort for one purpose only. Sex. Atwood was my usual guest.

Since I had found the joys of Atwoods mouth, here was the perfect private place to go to get jacked off and a blow job. Atwood had become expert with his tongue.

One day, I really had Atwood turned on. I'd been giving him a real slow hand job...extra slow. As one hand slowly pumped his black dick, my other hand gently fondled his balls. I would stop for a moment, then start again, gently touching his sensitive places, then resume, slowly pulling his prick.

Atwood was squirming uncomfortably with his stored load. He was on the verge of coming, but I wouldn't let it out of him. His body was wiggling, his face contorted. I could see him flexing and working every muscle possible trying to come to relieve his heated distress.

"Oh, please, Massah', oh please make me come. Oh, please, Massah'....... ..... SUCK ME!"

A look of horror came over Atwoods face when he realized what he had blurted out. . Asking a white man to suck his black cock? What had he said? He knew he would be whipped.

"Please, Suh', Ah didn't mean to say that. Honest I didn't."

My anger surged. How could Atwood think of such a thing. I glared into his pleading eyes. I reached for the whip and stood over him. His naked ebony body was prone on the floor, his legs drawn and spread. My eyes passed over his young rippling stomach muscles then moved to his crotch.

His black pouch held two, firm, walnut size balls. His large erected prick was hard and throbbing. I stared with fixed eyes. I dropped my whip. I knelt down, being drawn closer to this display of ready black male anatomy. I grasped him. I pulled the skin of his dick back until it was tightly stretched. Its head grew even larger. I grasped his balls. In an uncontrollable trance, my mouth opened and my head moved down. His large black throbbing muscle slipped into my mouth quickly becoming slick with my hot saliva.

I licked with uncontrollable frenzy. I pushed his prick to the back of my mouth, far down my throat, and the gush came. The pumping and pumping of warm cum. I swallowed and swallowed. My head blanketed his crotch until his dick was limp. Even then, I did not want to move my mouth from of his soft, limp stem. I snapped out of it. Drawing up, I realizing what I had done.

"Ah's sorry, Massah'. Ah's sorry," Atwood moaned.

A feeling of utter guilt came over me. I'd sucked a Nigger slaves cock. I could be tarred and feathered and run out of town. This was white peoples punishment.

I wanted to panic. I was angered. I wanted to whip Atwood within an inch of his life, maybe even kill. This was serious. I blamed Atwood. It was all his fault.

I yanked Atwood to his feet and slapped him. Atwood was wide eyed. I grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him.

"You tell anybody about this and I'll tie you up and cut off your balls."

"Ah's sorry, Massah". Ah's sorry," Atwood kept repeating.

My mind was spinning. My sexual arousal rose to match my anger. I looked at the naked Niger standing scared and helpless with his now limp ugly cock. I was really going to show him who his Master was.. He was going to be sorry for what he made me do.

"Down on all fours." Atwood complied. I backed up and put my butt in his face.

"Lick it!"

Atwood, fearing severe punishment, grabbed my hips and rapidly moved his tongue up and down my crack.

"Inside!. Deeper!. Lick my asshole!."

His long hard tongue, splashing with saliva, pushed firmly against my hole with rapid circular motions then moved inward and far up.

"In and out!. Keep doing it!."

I finally pulled away, my prick as hard as a rock. I walked around to his ass.

"I'm going to fuck you! Reach back and spread your cheeks."

Atwoods hands came back, grasped each cheek, pulling them apart.

"Wider."

I placed the head of my cock on his black target and pushed. He was tight. I moved his legs wider and repositioned my own legs. Grabbing his hips I rammed it up him. I would have liked to seen it come out of his mouth.

With anger, my dick drove in and out with all my might, my pelvis snapping his butt. My body was sweating. I was breathing rapidly. I came in his ass, clinging to him until I could pull out. Atwood dropped to the floor, rolling back and forth.

"Oh, please, Massah'. Oh please!."

I sat down spent and exhausted and tried to clear my brain. Atwood had to pledge silence. I tied his hands behind him. I ordered him to lie on his back and to draw and spread his legs.

Taking a boot lace, I wrapped above his balls so they squeezed downward, profiling his two big firm nuts. Atwood looked on with wide eyed apprehension.

I reached to my side and removed my knife from its leather sheath which I had just honed and polished the night before. I put the knife to Atwoods face.

"I've changed my mind!. I'm gonna cut your balls off."

Atwood became hysterical, thrashing, screaming and pleading,"Oh, please, Massah' Jason, don't cut off my balls. Don't cut me."

I held the knife, slowly turning it in front of Atwoods horror filled eyes. Atwood kept pleading.

" Please, Massah. Please!".

"Then you'll never tell anyone I sucked your black dick?"

"No, Massah'. Honest! I'll never tell. I'll be your best slave ever. Oh, Lordy! Please don't cut my balls off."

"You'll never tell?"

"I promise, Massah', never tell. Please put that knife away. Oh, lordy!"

I reinserted the knife in its sheath.

"Thank you, Massah'. Oh, thank you!," Atwood sobbed loudly with relief.

"You'll never, never tell?"

"No Suh. Never. Never!"

I angrily took Atwood's asshole a second time. He was more than cooperative. He dropped on all fours, put his head to the ground and poked his ass way out to receive me.

"Oh, Massah' that feels so good. Thank you, Massah. Oh, Massah, don't stop. I'se here to serve you, Massah'. Thank you so much Massah'."

Finishing, Atwood licked my dick clean. I turned, he spread my cheeks and again moved his tongue up my asshole. I made him lick up there for a long time.

When I left the fort, Atwood was still muttering. "I'se here to serve you, Massah'. I'll do anything for you, Massah'. I'll please you in any way. I'se here to serve you."

Walking down the path, I now felt I could depend on Atwood to never tell our secret. .

THE OVERSEER

Part 3

Jack Sprat

Time moved fast at the plantation. I and Atwood were now in our mid 20's. My daddy had made me a full time overseer in the cotton fields. As was the custom, dependable slaves could be made assistant overseers. I had made Atwood my assistant.

There were always young, husky, ebony male bodies. I'd choose them as they worked in the fields. Lots wore loin cloths that only covered their crotch. I'd watch from atop my horse as they bent over hoeing cotton. Those who presented attractive butts with well shaped muscular legs were carefully eyed and selected. I'll get to that in another story.

Ours was one of the larger plantations. My daddy was very wealthy. He insisted on only the very best slaves be bought at the auctions. He let me do the buying.

First, let me explain about our slaves. We bought them to work. In Africa, they survived on roots and grub worms. Maybe some raw or half cooked animal meat. They killed their enemies with spears, clubs, or blow guns. The whippings we give them was nothing to the way they were treated if captured, or the torture they performed on their prisoners. As far as we're concerned, they're animals in human form. No brains, but strong, usable muscles.

As like other buyers, I inspected the new merchandise before it was put on the block. The slaves were well chained, some still wild as Brahman bulls. It was very common for buyers to feel the slaves balls to make sure they were getting a buck with a large enough set to service the females and produce an abundance of little "suckers".

The other buyers paid no attention when I'd pull back a foreskin, tickle a tip, and watch a young buck squirm as his cock slowly grew into a upward standing pole.

"Hey, Jason! That boy's really got a big one."

I'd grin and say, "Got to make sure it'll go in real deep so it'll sprout a bunch of new little bucks."

I'd open the slaves butts and check their assholes, supposedly for hemorrhoids. The new male arrivals could really flex tight. Sometimes it took a lot of effort to pry those black cheeks open.

At auction time, I always got my bid. Money was no object. I'd head home with three or four slaves chained to the wagon bed and present them to my daddy. My daddy always approved my pick. He always asked how I could find such handsome ones.

The new slaves would be staked down and their training would start. Atwood always was in charge and he enjoyed the work.

Watching Atwoods training was always exciting. He'd bring a new slave in the barn cuffed, hobbled, and naked. He'd snap his whip ordering the young black to follow simple various commands. It was something like a lion trainer in an arena.

"Stand up!. Lay down! Roll over!"

Later, after the initially subduing, Atwood would pick the best young ones, and train them for sexual obedience.

Up in the barns loft, Atwood had cleared away enough hay bales to make a working area. He'd order a new black boy up the ladder. I'd watch his young naked butt as he climbed the rungs. Atwood followed, with me being last.

In the loft, Atwood had built a crude stock with three holes for later use but first he had to take care of preliminaries.

He'd order the slave to the floor on his back. Reaching in his pocket, Atwood would take out a rabbit snare. Rabbit snares are made so the noose locks tighter when tugged. The loop would be put above the slaves balls and tightened, allowing a few inches of slack leader to be tied to an eye- hook screwed into the floor. The slave was now secured.

Atwood would take his dick, pull back its foreskin and start stroking. To squirm would pull the noose tighter around his balls. This made him lay still.

Atwood would pump and play with him until his dick blasted out a load of cum. Young bucks sure have a lot of it. They seem to squirt forever. After his coming, Atwood would look at me and grin.

"How was that, Massah'."

Next, Atwood put the slave in kneeling position into the stocks, his head and hands secured by the holes with his bare butt poking out from behind. The snare was still around his balls.

Atwood would grease his fingers in a can of lard, liberally lubricating the boy's ass, shoving his fingers in about until he was satisfied. If the slave yelled, the anchor wire was jerked, yanking at his snared balls.

"Yessah, Yo' little butt is gonna be a good fuck. Now I'se going to loosen it up mo''."

Atwood would grease a length of tapered broomstick and slide it up the protesting slaves ass.

"Yo's goin'' to learn to like it," he would say, shoving it further. "And yo's going to wear it til yo' learn to suck my cock real good."

Atwood would stand in front of the slave, drop his pants, making the slave watch as he fingered himself until his hard-on had swollen to the max.

"Now yo' open yo' mouth. I's gonna put this big thing inside and yo's goin'' to start workin'' your tongue fast as yo' can." The slave would refuse.

"So yo's gittin'' uppity?"

Atwood would return to the slaves butt, angrily swirl the broomstick, grasp the snare, jerking it until the slave changed his mind. I stayed until I saw Atwood win out, moaning with pleasure as his big cock was being taken care of.

I had to leave for a business trip to Durham. I was gone a week. When I got back, Atwood was very much in command. Nothing had gone awry in my absence.

"And, Massah' I got a present fo'' you. I'll be right back".

Atwood returned leading one of my purchases, a light skinned boy in his teens.

"I trained him extra special as a gift just fo'' you, Massah'". He trained easy. His name is Ivory."

Looking at Ivory's body, I became instantly hard. I couldn't wait. Ivory followed me obediently as I headed up the path to the log fort. We entered, I closed the door.

Ivory knew what to do. Atwood had trained him well. He shucked down immediately. I did not have to order him.

My eyes feasted on his beautiful light ebony naked body. He was new. He was fresh. He was all mine. .

THE OVERSEER

PART 4

Jack Sprat

Today is hot and muggy. Alabama summer weather makes your clothes stick to you and mosquitoes are predominant. I can't stay inside in this weather so I sit on the porch in my rocking chair, swat mosquitoes, and reminisce when I was a young overseer in the slave days. In my previous stories, I told about Atwood, my personal slave servant. Now I am thinking of the young male slaves I used for my sexual satisfaction.

We had a large plantation. Whenever I got the feelin'' for a boy, I'd just ride my horse out to the cotton fields, pick a young handsome buck, and bring him back to the barn.

Inside the barn, the boy would shuck down. Some of these slaves were pretty ripe. Smelled to high heaven. The barn had a large horse watering trough. I'd get him into the trough and have him wash real well. If you're wondering...I always ordered another worker to change the trough water before the horses drank.

When I was satisfied he'd washed real good, I'd have him squeegee himself down with his hands. If I had a rag, I'd toss it to him to finish dryin'. If not, I'd just let him stand there naked and inspect his body til the water evaporated.

What really turned me on was having him climb the ladder to the barns loft. I'd follow right behind him, admiring his naked, young, muscular, fresh, ebony butt and the balls that hung below.

In the loft, I'd pushed two hay bales together lengthwise and covered them with a horse blanket. At the end of the bales, I'd stood two more bales on end to act as stirrups. The boy would lie down and put his legs over the standup bales, spreading wide as possible.

I'd have to get his limp prick started by slowly tugging his foreskin back and forth, uncapping then recapping, watching as his prick grow from my massaging 'til it got real hard.

Oiling his sensitive tip real well, I'd tease it with my fingers 'til it looked like it would explode, then jack 'til he started to squirm, I'd know when he was ready to cum and just at the right moment, I'd shove my greased finger up his ass.

Young slaves are very virile. I could usually bring their cum at least three times. When they were spent, I'd turn them over and get their butts in the air.

There's nothing more beautiful than a young blacks rear. Smooth, tight, perfectly formed ebony buns, with slim anatomically perfect legs. I'd always slowly explore, circling my fingers on each bun, then run them slowly up and down their cracks. Spreading them open, I'd use both forefingers to open and peer at their soft pink inside channel.

With my stiff larded forefinger I'd massage the boy's hole for a real long time, trying to get it to relax it so it would be a good fuck. My efforts were worth it if I could finally get it to accepted my two fingers.

Dropping my pants, I'd cover my raging dick with grease and press it through his cute black cheeks until it touched his hole. Pushing a short distance, I'd withdraw, his asshole take little nips, then I'd slip it up further, stopping to let his muscle adjust. After my head passed, my shaft slid easily up to my balls, his butt muscle wrapped around me real good and tight.

It wouldn't be long before I was pounding real hard, grasping those black hips and gyrating them as I fucked, waiting to fill his ass with my warm cum..

Some assholes were just too tight. No amount of fingering would relax them. In this case, I'd drop my pants, put my prick in his mouth and stroke his soft afro hair as his long tongue worked until I emptied.

I'd usually reward the boy by letting him use the rest of the day to do catfishin'' in the creek.

Our plantation was so large that I didn't get a chance at all the boys, but I got a good share of them.

The End