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 have begun appearing. 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
Chapter fifteen
"Aye, aye, general!"
"[Sigh] Yes Hector, as you were."
For the tenth time that day, Mark Appleby grinned ruefully and returned a salute. He hoped fervently that the good people of Seaward would give it up soon. Ever since the night before, when he announced that he was a lieutenant in the South Carolina Militia and had been appointed commander of the island, he had been a source of ongoing amusement to his friends. Every salute came with a snicker and a smile-- he could only hope the joke would run its course!
Today, as much of the group worked on the construction of extra lofts in the storage barn under the direction of Cassius, they discussed Appleby's upcoming weekend, a month or more distant, of field exercises on the peninsula above Charleston. Officers were invited to bring servants; indeed, it seemed as if it was an expectation, and the last thing Appleby wanted to do was to appear to be different (even though he was). But who to send, and who was willing to go? The blacks of Seaward were so different from those of the mainland--their speech gave them away if nothing else. Those who ventured to the mainland had to monitor their behavior constantly so as not to arouse any suspicion that they were not the craven slaves that the system of bondage so prized. And Seaward was such a haven, such a place to be free and unconstrained, that many of the people of the island feared going ashore, with good reason.
In the end it was decided that Bundit, the new Siamese arrival, would accompany Appleby. His Asian appearance would set him apart, which was against his going. But on the other hand, it was widely known that he was there, as Appleby had reported the wreck of his ship on the rocks east of the island. Thus, it would not come as a surprise to people in town to see him about, or accompanying Appleby. Bundit could go in the role of a "servant," but not a slave. Having never been in bondage, he was less likely to be snared by any legal tricks while on the mainland, and his race would protect him somewhat from being kidnapped and sold into slavery--as sometimes happened to free blacks.
Officers were expected to bring their own tents and field equipment. An order was placed for such gear and taken into Charleston the next time the Hesperus made a trip. Troy brought back a spacious, two room tent with bedding and simple collapsible furniture. Bundit practiced setting the tent up and taking it down, and the younger people--Hector, Pan, Bacchus, and Helen--enjoyed the new experience of "camping out" in it, insisting on spending one night beneath the canvas roof out on the lawn of Seaward house. What they did in there at night is a matter left to speculation.
With arrangements made for the field exercise, the matter was set aside and everyone's attention focused on the many projects underway: building, tending to crops and livestock, practice sailing the Harmony, and when it thundered practice with the Harmony's cannon and with firearms. The community began experimenting with some fishing nets brought from Charleston by Appleby soon after he arrived, and with some practice found that they could bring in enough fish to feed everyone with ease. Buoys were also anchored on the dangerous reefs and rocks that lined the approaches to the island from the east. Weeks rolled around and the time for the field exercise was at hand.
The Hesperus sailed past Charleston, farther up the peninsula, to dock at a rough pier that had been constructed at a staging ground carved out of swamp and forest. Quite a large group of bearded patriarchs, young men, and boys milled around, black and white. Bundit's appearance drew stares and whispered conversations from the start, but Appleby made a point of referring to him as "my servant, recently cast ashore on Seaward from the wreck of the Duchess of Kent," and as that explanation circulated Bundit's presence was accepted. The South Carolinians seemed to take it as natural that anybody who was not white would, upon washing up on the shore of a white man, instantly become his servant, so it all seemed perfectly reasonable to them. Nevertheless, throughout the weekend the younger white men and boys, and all of the black slaves, found excuses to brush their hands against his hair, to touch his skin, and to look closely at the folds of skin that shaped his eyes. Accustomed to being a stranger in a strange land, Bundit took it all in stride.
Upon first landing, however, Appleby and Bundit confronted a scene of organized chaos. They found a horse-drawn cart with room in it and stowed their gear there; Appleby had to be careful to let Bundit do most of the work so as not to maintain the master-servant ruse. There appeared to be about five hundred men and boys present, with perhaps a hundred more servants and attendants. All wore rough clothing, as no uniform had yet been devised, but officers were given insignia to affix to their hats and shoulders as indications of their rank, and it appeared as if there were no more than thirty of that class.
Appleby was pleased to see the Robert and Carter Ashley in the group, whom he greeted warmly. The passage of time and Appleby's attentions to Robert seemed to have made the boy forgive the man for having allowed himself to be fucked by Aaron, for Appleby noted with pleasure that the leopard- faced slave boy was attending his young master. An adult slave whom Appleby did not recognize followed Carter Ashley around. Unobserved, Appleby flashed a surreptitious smile and a wink at Aaron, bowing slightly. Aaron ducked his head quickly to hide a huge smile that broke out involuntarily at receiving that attention, and he continued to flick glances at Appleby whenever he could.
Colonel Gillam mounted a wagon with a voice trumpet, or megaphone, and began organizing the milling crowd. Ordinary soldiers, most of them small farmers, wage earners in Charleston, or hired hands--few or none of them large land or slave owners--began to fall into ranks, heavy packs on their backs, muskets in hand. The Colonel assigned Appleby to assist Carter Ashley in his command, much to the delight of both. Appleby hung back to observe, helping Carter when he could but taking mental notes as to military procedures and protocol the whole time. Ashley appeared to have a small troop of about twenty men at his command. As they assembled, Appleby walked among their ranks, shaking hands and introducing himself.
Some of these militiamen seemed no older than boys. Shaking the hand of one soldier, Appleby inquired as to his age.
"Eighteen, sir," came the reply, and then a proud grin: "Jes' last week!" Appleby nodded, but in truth the youth looked no older than sixteen, if that. His rough clothing hung on a rail-thin, wiry frame about five and a half feet tall. His hair was brown, clean but shaggy and had evidently been cut the last time by placing a bowl over his head and shearing away the hair that escaped below.
"Well, soldier, I am Mark Appleby."
"Silas, sir, Silas Hornsby." Appleby smiled into the thin, tanned face of the youth. He had good, honest features, not homely but not strikingly handsome, with earnest brown eyes and a turned up nose. But--did Silas grasp his hand to shake for a trifle longer than necessary? Attuned to such matters now, did Appleby sense something different in the frank appraisal that each made of the other? Appleby reminded himself that he must not rush to conclusions, and that expectations and practices ashore would be very different from what he enjoyed at Seaward. At that moment their grip was broken by a bugle signal and the calling out of orders to march.
Appleby was grateful that the fall was approaching, for otherwise the heat and humidity would have made the trek unbearable. The group marched along a rough thoroughfare just wide enough to let the carts pass. Carter Ashley led the twenty men assigned to him, while Appleby marched on one side and Robert on the other. Two hours of steady tramping brought the group to a wide field or pasture surrounded by woods. A stream ran through the trees to one side of the clearing and another meandered through the field itself. The area had evidently been used before, for a rough roof on timber uprights constituted a large field kitchen, while two or three rickety wooden outhouses were distributed around the perimeter of the field for those who did not care simply to relieve themselves in the woods. There followed another hour of setting up camp, the tents and carts being arrayed in about one third of the field, leaving the rest for the weekend's exercises. The ordinary soldiers pitched pup tents which they occupied alone or with one companion. Appleby's tent was pitched next to Carter's and Robert's tent, which was somewhat larger. The servants helped each other to hoist the canvas dwellings over wooden poles, and in time a small city grew on the field.
The group was given a quick lunch of bread and cheese, and then called to assemble on the field. Orders for the weekend were reviewed as each company sat together in their appointed places. That afternoon there were field drills, marching in formation, and the like. Troops practiced correct responses to bugle calls, and as the afternoon progressed some semblance of military order began forming in these amateur soldiers. Appleby observed everything carefully, assisting when requested to, memorizing the drills and orders. Throughout the afternoon, he imagined that he caught the eye of young Silas Hornsby gazing at him from beneath the lowered brim of a hat.
The approach of evening signaled an end to the exercises. Men and officers alike washed up in the streams, some leaping in naked to bathe, and the smell of good cooked food began rising from the field kitchen. Appleby found that Bundit had prepared the tent comfortably, one pallet prepared in each room for appearances' sake, regardless of the reality of who slept where. "How has it been for you today?" Appleby asked.
"Alright, Master Mark. I draw a lot of attention, but I am used to it," replied Bundit, a sweet smile crinkling up his features. "I.... I met Aaron, Master Robert's servant," he continued, a smile remaining on his face. "He is very nice," he said, pointedly.
"Yes," said Appleby, looking directly at Bundit, an unspoken understanding passing between them, "He is. And so is Master Robert." Bundit's eyebrows flew up in surprise, but he merely nodded, accepting this information.
The whites gathered for dinner in the field kitchen; their servants picked up their food there and carried it away to eat in the woods or back in the tents. Dinner over, the company broke up into smaller groups, folding chairs being set up or blankets spread around campfires. Some men had brought musical instruments, which were now produced. A few of the blacks were called forth to sing or dance, which made Appleby uncomfortable. He felt a pang of homesickness for Seaward, where people sang and danced but from joy, not command. Smells of wood and tobacco smoke drifted through the air.
A plaintive bugle call signaled the end of the day. Men gathered up their belongings and made for their tents. Appleby arranged it so that he and Robert were walking back to their tents together, Carter some feet in front of them and engrossed in conversation with a friend.
"Well, Robert... what are your plans for the evening?" asked Appleby, ironically. A blush spread over the freckled face of the boy, who ducked his head, then looked back up at the older man. "Your slave, sir.... the Chinaman...."
"Not my slave, Robert, my servant. He is a castaway, and serves me for wages," replied Appleby. Robert looked thoughtful at the answer, seeming to calculate something behind his ice blue eyes. "He will be in my tent, no doubt, but.... I think you would enjoy meeting him, sir," said Appleby. "Perhaps a new experience for you? And he and I would enjoy meeting Aaron again, too." Robert looked away, appearing to think hard about the matter, weighing reservations against desire. Finally, he nodded decisively, flashed a smile at Appleby, mouthed "later" to him, and moved next to his father as they came to their tents. Carter bade Appleby a good evening, vowing to sleep soundly after the day's efforts, and each went into their own tents.
Bundit had a good supply of soap, water, and towels ready for Appleby, who gratefully washed up before bed. Bundit himself had bathed earlier, having plunged naked into the stream, the sight of his persimmon body a spectacle for all who beheld it--quite a welcome spectacle for some who kept that feeling hidden within themselves. Stripped to his undergarments, Appleby washed himself. As his master finished, Bundit stepped up lightly to embrace him. Appleby returned the hug affectionately, his groin stirring, but whispered into Bundit's ear, "Let us wait; we may have visitors. Visitors you will welcome, I think." Bundit looked mystified but pleased, and controlled his passion for the moment.
Quiet settled over the camp. The sound of night birds and insects rose in the air. Appleby and Bundit lay together on the same bed, wearing only undergarments, holding hands lightly, playing with one another's fingers, and waiting. An oil lamp was trimmed as low as it would go, a faint light welling up in the tent. From the direction of the Ashley tent came the slightest sound of movement--a light flapping of canvas--a rustling sound in the grass--then the lightest scratching sound at the door of the tent. Bundit leaped up to answer it but Appleby raised his hand and stepped in front of him. He peered out, then stepped back and ushered two figures into the tent: Robert and Aaron. Appleby smiled a welcome at both, squeezing the shoulder of Aaron who followed his master in.
There was bound to be some awkwardness: everyone knew where this little gathering was headed, but only Appleby was familiar, in more senses than one, with everyone there. He kept his hand on Aaron's shoulder and in fact moved the boy right in front of him. As Bundit and Robert watched, he slid his arms around Aaron in the front, hugging the boy back toward himself, burying his face in the slave's straight, black hair. His hands lightly rubbed the boy's chest and belly through the rough cloth of his shirt. Robert watched all this slack jawed, casting sideways glances at Bundit, but he was too shy in these unaccustomed circumstances to initiate anything and too proud to ask.
Sensing Robert's awkwardness and his need to command, to be served, Bundit broke the logjam. He took a step and gracefully dropped to his knees before the white youth and began unbuckling his belt and trousers. Robert gasped, looked quickly from Bundit to Appleby to Aaron and back, then tentatively touched Bundit's bushy black waves of hair with his hands. The white youth's trousers dropped, then his undergarments. Going for the bold stroke first, Bundit gently seized Robert's bobbing pink penis and took it entirely into his mouth, smiling up at the youth as he did so. Robert gasped and threw his golden head back, then looked back down at the Asian youth on his knees before him. One hand remained enmeshed in Bundit's hair, the other hand came around to lightly stroke his face, to trace the lines of the folds that shaped his eyes. They held that position for a moment, Bundit lightly moving his head back and forth. Then Robert wriggled out of his shirt and stepped back, kicking his pants and shoes to the side. Bundit rose, a silver thread of precum on his chin, and dropped his undergarment. Seizing the moment, Appleby pulled Aaron's shirt up over his head and off, while the black slave boy undid his own pants and dropped them and loincloth to the ground over his bare feet, shoving them aside. The last to go was Appleby's undergarment. All four stared at one another in the dim lamplight for a moment, Appleby partially hidden behind the black boy whose naked chest and belly he now fondled.
Again it was Bundit who set developments in motion. He approached Robert and gently grasped the boy's rigid, pink penis, slowly manipulating it with his fist. With his other hand he rubbed the side of Robert's hip, but kept his own eyes downcast. On Robert's beautiful face, now blushing rosy with sexual excitement, a parade of emotions were visible. Strong desire was chief among them--then wariness and reserve at the offer of intimacy initiated by a person whose skin was of a different color--then a surrender to his natural urges. As Bundit had correctly surmised, it helped that the twenty year old Asian looked to be as young as the fourteen year old white boy.
Appleby and Aaron--Robert and Bundit--the two couples watched each other even as they engaged their partners. Appleby, standing behind Aaron, rubbed the black slave boy's chest and belly, tweaking his nipples. The boy craned his head around to receive Appleby's kisses as the white man pulled himself into the slave, pressing his rigid dick into the narrow divide between the boy's firm, rounded buttocks. Aaron reached his hands up to entwine his fingers in Appleby's shoulder length hair as Appleby reached forward to fondle the boy's balls and short but thick penis, slowly manipulating it, thumbing the head which was slick with precum. But they kept their gaze three feet away, where---
Robert and Bundit toyed with each other's rigid dicks, slowly jacking them, rubbing fingers over the flared hoods of each penis. An Asian rosebud pair of lips met the white boy's bee-stung lips, while arms moved to grasp slim muscular shoulders. Rampant cocks batted each other between their slim abdomens as they pushed and squirmed against each other, feet dug into the ground, grinding and pushing their groins against each other--and keeping their surveillance of Appleby and Aaron, where--
The white man, unable to delay his conquest of the boy any longer, pushed him to his hands and knees. He quickly retrieved some lubricant he had brought along just for the purpose and slicked up his own rampant, red penis. Then he inserted one, and two, and finally three fingers into the black boy's anus, cries and gasps coming with each new invasion, greasing and oiling the entry to his love hole, both of them looking three feet away, where--
Bundit sank to the ground, pulling Robert with him. The two rolled around, now this one on top and now that one, humping furiously, grinding groins together. Bundit, now on top, likewise reached for the lubricant and raised Robert's legs. There was a moment of resistance; Robert's old, inbred distaste rising up. But Bundit was not black, not a slave.... and he was beautiful. Robert's lovely features twisted for a moment as the two held a pose--then the blonde boy drew his own legs up, turned his head to the side and shut his eyes. Bundit inserted lubricated fingers into the white boy's anus, making small circles. Robert gasped and looked directly at Bundit; he raised his hands toward the Asian youth's chest, just as Bundit quickly put his dickhead to the boy's pink anus and pushed. It happened too quickly then for Robert to prevent. Bundit was fully inside the boy, arched out over him, Robert's legs pulled up alongside the Siamese youth's flanks. Robert's palms flattened against the hairless, gold-and-tan chest of the Asian, both pushing and supporting, both accepting and repelling. Bundit began pumping in and out, his hairless ballsack swaying back and forth and slapping against the white boy's bottom. Robert began writhing and moaning in ecstasy and discomfort equally balanced. Both looked to the side, to see--
Appleby placing his rigid red penis at the wrinkled black- red anus of the boy on his hands and knees in front of him. They were positioned perpendicular to Robert and Bundit. Appleby pushed his rigid shaft inside in one smooth motion, Aaron gasping and writhing but accepting the intrusion. Appleby began moving in and out, back and forth, increasing speed, slamming his groin with a smacking sound into Aaron while both looked straight ahead to see--
Bundit begin pumping wildly into Robert's ass. The white boy now grasped the Asian's muscular shoulders, squeezed, held on as his persimmon body pistoned in and out, in and out. Suddenly Bundit slammed forward, strangling a cry to avoid attracting notice outside, rasping breath and whispered, frantic words in a foreign language escaping his lips and clenched teeth, squeezing his hips to push all his semen into the white boy, even as--
Appleby bucked three times, hard, then pushed Aaron flat to the ground as his orgasm overcame them both, stretching out over the flattened slave boy and grinding his groin down into the waiting bottom below him, hissing and groaning softly, squeezing, then shuddering, then collapsing on top of the twelve year old beneath him.
The chirping of the crickets filled the quiet air as Appleby and Bundit struggled for breath. As soon as they could, Bundit rolled off of Robert and Appleby off of Aaron. Aaron rolled over onto his back, and Robert instantly swung over, squatting on knees and toes above Aaron's shoulders and forcibly inserting his rigid penis into the black boy's mouth. Robert slammed his hips back and forth violently, his hands making fists which flailed uncontrollably in the air, his head shaking side to side, face-fucking his black slave. Aaron hardly noticed his master's frenzy, however, for Appleby had rolled over and taken the twelve year old slave's rigid penis in his mouth after brushing off the particles of grass that stuck to it. Enveloping the rigid, purple black, thick organ in his mouth, Appleby bobbed up and down quickly, maintaining a suction on the stiff, thick penis. Aaron's hips began jacking up and down in time to the rhythm of Robert's face-fucking. Both came at the same time, Robert's breath seething and ragged, slamming forward into the slave boy, while Aaron's groin pushed up and into Appleby's mouth, holding it there while his penis shot its small load of cum into the white man. Each held his dick against the face of his lover for a moment, then collapsed, breathing heavily, Robert rolling off of the slave boy to lie on the ground beside Bundit. Appleby rolled to Aaron's other side and all four lay there, exhausted, recovering breath.
No sounds came from outside beyond those of nature. They had not been discovered. After a few moments Robert heaved a heavy sigh and rose, dressing. Aaron followed his master's example, while Bundit and Appleby stood to help their guests. Light kisses, hugs, pats, squeezes were exchanged all around. Robert peeked out the tent flap, then slipped out. Aaron flashed a brilliant smile back at Appleby, then followed his master. Exhausted, Appleby and Bundit piled back together onto the single pallet and slipped into a heavy sleep.
The bugle call came much too soon in the morning, a brass rooster to rouse the troops. Appleby shaved and washed at the basin, then clothed himself and slipped out of the tent into the dewy morning. Condensation was everywhere, a heavy damp smell of late summer morning pervading the camp. The smell of wood smoke and cooking odors wafted around the field from the kitchen. In small groups or singly, men and officers drifted over for a simple breakfast, clutching metalware mugs of boiled coffee to ward off the morning chill.
That morning brought practice with muskets: drills for loading with precise coordination so that a company could maintain a more or less constant barrage of lead balls raining down on an enemy--target practice with painted bulls'-eyes on wooden planks--care and cleaning of the weapons so that the corrosive powder residue would not eat away at the metal. The sun rose and began beating down on the men as volley after volley was fired and dense clouds from the exploding black powder rolled across the field. Appleby again assisted Carter Ashley, as did Robert; the two exchanged friendly, meaningful glances often throughout the morning, unobserved by others--or so they thought, at any rate.
Toward noontime, a halt was called in the practice, weapons were cleaned, and men were released to wash up and prepare for lunch. Everyone was grimy with soot from the firing, and most men gathered at the streams that ran near and through the field, sharing chunks of soap as they scrubbed away the grime. Kneeling by the stream that ran through the nearby woods, Appleby found himself next to Silas Hornsby-- or had Silas sought out Appleby? Smiling at the youth, Appleby offered a piece of soap as he was rinsing away his grime. Silas gratefully accepted and washed, bashfully glancing at Appleby repeatedly, smiling, spitting out powder residue, sniffing loudly through his nose. Their ablutions completed, Appleby and Silas walked together back up the short path that led out of the woods, past the outhouse, and toward the field kitchen.
"So, Silas, tell me--why are you in the militia?" asked Appleby as they went along.
"Well, I dunno.... I reckon, to whup the Yankees if they come, sir!" returned Silas.
"But why would the Yankees want to come? What's all the fuss about?" continued Appleby.
"I dunno, sir, but Colonel Gillam and them.... they say the Yankees are gonna come, want to come make us give up our way of life." Silas spoke the last four words as if they were a holy mantra.
"But, Silas," persisted Appleby, "what way of life is that? Do you own slaves?" he asked.
Silas grinned and shook his head. "Law, sir, I cain't afford none o' that! Naw, it's jes'...." and here he raised his chin and looked into the middle distance, "it's jes' our way of life."
Appleby let the matter drop, mystified. It seemed clear to him that the increasing difficulties between the States had slavery at their root; so why should this poor, ordinary, white laborer take up arms to defend a system that largely benefited a relatively few Southerners? He sighed; it was the way of the world. Should war come, uneducated mill workers in the North would enlist just as quickly in defense of an abstraction that hid the interests of moneyed power. Rather than argue, he put his arm companionably around the shoulder of the youth, feeling the bony flesh, until the two emerged from the woods. Did Silas edge a trifle closer as they walked, or was that an accident of the uneven path? Emerging into the clearing, Silas touched the tip of his battered hat, smiled a wide, snaggle-toothed grin at Appleby, and trotted off to join his company for lunch. But he looked back more than once at Appleby, who waved in return.
The officers congregated together in a knot near the field kitchen, eating their lunch, gossiping about the exercises, the men, other officers who were not present. Appleby was included sociably in the group, and he tried to express ideas which he thought fit with the general public opinion. Then Colonel Gillam climbed back on a cart and declared two hours' rest. Men and officers dispersed here and there, many to seek their tents for a nap. Appleby concluded a conversation with the owner of a plantation across the harbor from Ashley, then bade him a good afternoon. The lunch and the day's exercise were combining in a call of nature that Appleby could not ignore, so he sought the outhouse he had passed on the way up the path.
Finding the two-holer empty, Appleby settled down to business. The afternoon was still as the tired men rested in shade or tent. You could hear the birds, the rustling of forest creatures, the--but wait. That was hardly a forest creature. The boards of the ramshackle outhouse left many a gap. In his peripheral vision, Appleby saw what he had assumed was the shadow of a tree move. The shadow appeared near another gap in the planks, and a tiny gleam could be seen about four or four and a half feet up. A twig on the other side of the plank wall snapped, once. Not betraying his awareness of this phenomenon, Appleby finished his business and cleaned himself, then rose slowly. Ever so slowly he pulled up his trousers, but left his penis dangling outside. The shadow remained frozen where it was. Slowly, Appleby completely finished dressing, except for his penis. Then in a flash he stuffed the organ inside his pants as he broke through the door and cut a hard right around to the side and back of the outhouse.
A tremendous rustling broke out in the underbrush just behind the outhouse, then three or four thumps, a low, desperate wail of "O! Law!" and the sound of scrambling, and then--Appleby was on him: Silas Hornsby. Looking around quickly, Appleby saw that this drama had not been observed. Amazed and annoyed, he hauled the youth up by his collar.
"What's the meaning of this, Silas?" he asked. The boy was trembling, his limbs nearly in spasms, beet red from running and from embarrassment, knees buckling so that Appleby was obliged to keep hold of his collar.
"Oh, cap'n, please don't tell, Oh, it ain't what it seemed like, Oh really cap'n--"
"Nonsense, Silas, it was exactly what it seemed like: You were spying on me in the outhouse!"
Unable to deny it, the youth really did sink down now, sobbing, tears streaming down his face which he turned up to Appleby with a look of desperation: "Oh, don't tell anyone, please cap'n, please don't, don't beat me, don't beat me--"
"Silas," Appleby spoke, more softly, but still with a note of serious annoyance, "Silas, nobody will beat you. And.... and I won't tell anybody."
"Oh Law!, guv'nor, Oh thank you.... Oh, I'll do anythin', I will, jes' please don't--"
"Silas!" barked Appleby, hauling the trembling youth back up to his feet. "You must pull yourself together. Now," he continued, as Silas nodded frantically, still gasping for breath as he tried to compose himself, "Now, you were looking at me in the outhouse. Don't you think I deserve an explanation?" The youth nodded but could only bow his head as his face puckered up and tears streamed down once more. Calming himself, it came to Appleby that the plainest, most obvious answer must be---and he was very glad in that moment that it was he, and not Carter Ashley or Colonel Gillam, who had caught Silas in the act.
"Silas.... do you like looking at men? Is that it?" Silas sobbed; unable to deny it, he nodded once and hung his head again, whispering once, "Don' tell nobody." The youth seemed utterly desperate and forlorn.
"Silas.... Silas," and here Appleby put his arm around the youth's bony shoulder. Silas gasped, shuddered, snorted noisily, looked at Appleby's hand on his shoulder and then looked at Appleby. "Silas," continued Appleby, "so do I." He let that fact fall into the space between them like a stone down the well, making a mighty splash when it finally registered in Silas's consciousness. The youth looked at him open-mouthed. "So do I, Silas," he repeated, "but I don't go spying on strangers in outhouses. It is terribly risky, as you well know." Silas nodded, snuffling and snorting loudly, breathing through his mouth.
"Come," said Appleby, and led the youth back down the path to the stream bank where they had washed before. It was deserted, but nevertheless Appleby walked off the path a little ways to a grassy spot beyond some bushes. He bade Silas clean and compose himself, and the youth did so by splashing water on his face and blowing his nose onto the mud. Then the two settled back on the grassy bank, sitting quietly together, watching the stream sparkle as it meandered through the woods.
"Mr.... Mr. Appleby..... Do ya' really?" Silas asked in a small voice.
"Yes, Silas. Lots of men do, whether every now and then or all the time or somewhere in between. I'm sure some of the men here," Appleby said, nodding back towards camp, "share your feelings."
Silas shook his head vigorously, snuffling loudly. "Naw, cap'n, they ain't nobody I can find." Appleby protested softly but the youth continued, "It ain't like it is for you, mebbe. You got all them slaves, they has to do what you ask 'em to do. Ain't like that for me."
A knife twisted slowly in Appleby's gut. Pan and Bacchus on that first night.... Hector, then Troy.... did they share their bodies, their love, with him because he was their white master? Are they doing it for that reason now, even in part? How could he ever answer that question of whether they wanted him for himself, since "himself" was the only white man on Seaward and their owner? He wanted Troy and the others to want him regardless of color. But then he recalled his time in McGillicuddy's slave market, where it was precisely his white skin and the ability to control the slaves who were presented to him that was so powerfully compelling--the memory of that wallow in the exploitation of human bondage made his penis stiffen even now. Appleby sank in a pool of gloom for a moment, then rose back out, cursing the system of slavery that made such doubts and contradictions unavoidable. He told himself sternly that he had found, and given, real love on Seaward and that he must put these questions behind him. And yet.....
"Silas, you will find--"
"Naw, cap'n, I won'.... I won'...." and the youth teared up again. Appleby looked with pity on Silas; he had felt some small measure of this despair back in Boston from time to time, although nothing like this. With pity came the idea to do something.... not so much from desire for the skinny youth, but to help.
"Silas, you will. Here and there, from time to time, and then some day somebody special will come into your life. It's not so terribly different for those who like women, you know," he said, and Silas smiled dismally through his tears. "Silas.... maybe you have found such a moment now." Silas's head swung around to look at Appleby in disbelief. "Would you.... would you like to lie back against the grass?"
The youth did not comply, out of disbelief in the offer, until Appleby gently placed his hand on the thin chest and pushed him back. Appleby swung around and began tugging on the rough trousers, held up with a piece of rope. Silas, now caught up in a wave of hope and desire, lifted his hips and assisted the process. His pants and undergarment slid down to bunch around his boots. Sitting up briefly, he slithered out of his shirt, and then lay back naked in the dappled sunlight.
Silas's body was thin but not gaunt, the muscles taught and wiry yet not well developed. Appleby wondered whether he had perhaps not enjoyed a diet that would support that kind of physique. Thin pads of muscles on his rounded chest lay above his skinny tube of an abdomen where his ribs might be counted. He had no hair on his torso, but a small patch of brown pubic hair above a penis of average size that had popped up into a full blown erection. He sported a "farmer's tan," brown arms, neck and face but lighter white-pink legs and torso. Appleby quickly kissed the youth, then tongued and bit the skin on his chest and abdomen, nibbling his nipples which were erect and pointed now, linking his way down the belly. He slid down to the stiff penis which, although clean, emitted a musty odor. He could hear Silas panting heavily now, and the youth was grasping at Appleby's shoulders and hair.
Appleby took the head of the penis in his mouth and nibbled it with his lips and tongued over the top of the hood while Silas writhed and moaned softly. The youth began bouncing his hips, greedy for this pleasure he had feared was denied to him. Appleby sank his mouth down over the rigid cock and, maintaining a suction, began sliding up and down the shaft, swallowing the steady flow of precum the youth was producing. It did not last long, for Silas, inexperienced and keyed to a fever pitch of excitement, soon gasped, arched his head and neck, and bucked his hips up three times into Appleby's face, holding his groin there to pump his semen out in a long, copious flow. Then he collapsed back down, shaking and quivering, breathing raggedly.
Appleby lay on the grass near the youth, rubbing slow circles on his belly, as the crisis subsided. "Thank you, oh! thank you.... you cain't know.... how fine it was.... thank you" Silas said, over and over. Peace descended on the pair and Appleby rose to his knees, helping the youth to pull his pants back up, as Silas wriggled back into his shirt. Bending over, Appleby kissed him quickly again, then said, "Wait here ten minutes before returning," and was off up the path that led back to the field.
The afternoon was physically active, with mock infantry charges practiced using unloaded weapons. It was a chance to put together the skills developed in drills and in target shooting over the weekend. Appleby found this rather enjoyable. It was similar to "playing war" as a boy, although with deadly serious consequences this time, of course. Appleby snuck a smile at Silas when he could, and the youth grinned back appreciatively. He seemed to be trying extra hard to carry out his duties this afternoon.
A halt was called at the end of the day, and once more the men dispersed to clean themselves before dinner. Appleby walked back to the stream with soap and towel to strip off his clothing quickly and bathe. A little ways away he could see that Silas was part of a group of naked men splashing in a deeper hole in the stream, and he hoped that the youth's evident enjoyment of the moment might lead to further discoveries. Clothing himself, he nodded at Silas, but was unsure if the youth saw the gesture. Appleby returned up the path and joined the other officers in the field kitchen for dinner.
Eating the simple fare with a strong appetite, Appleby sat near Colonel Gillam and Carter Ashley. Both shook his hand and solemnly declared their complete satisfaction with his participation in the exercise. Appleby thanked them, and then he began putting down the next layer of his preparations for Seaward. He suggested that he would personally think about some minor fortification of the island, lying as it did in the sea approaches to Charleston. Gillam, Ashley, and some of the other officers nodded with approval, and some suggestions were offered up for the fortification and defense of Seaward against any possible Yankee threat. Appleby received them gratefully--but not with a view toward defending against the Yankees.
Some of the men began athletic contests on the field, others sat around smoking, talking, drinking furtively from flasks, and enjoying the air which carried the first hints of fall. Appleby was among the latter group. Robert Ashley was also there, having sat quietly throughout dinner. There were only a couple of other boys his age in the company, so he had little opportunity to socialize over the weekend. Night moved over the camp and the bugle played the signal to retire. Robert, Carter, and Appleby walked back to their neighboring tents together this evening, so that Appleby had only the opportunity to mouth "tonight" to Robert, with a wink, before entering his own tent.
Appleby and Bundit embraced warmly, glad to see one another after the long day. Bundit had been learning some useful information from the other servants about the social, financial, and political affairs of their masters. Appleby stored this information away for future use. He expressed real appreciation to Bundit for keeping their tent home in as spotless a condition as possible. Bundit's face broke into a smile when Appleby told him there was a possibility that last night's guests would come again. Completely disrobing this time, the two stretched out on a pallet and awaited developments.
Distant voices, the clatter of metal, faraway footsteps, all soon faded beneath the cover of night sounds. Then the soft, barely perceptible sounds of movement from the tent nearby could be heard. Not waiting for admission, Robert lifted the tent flap and entered, followed by Aaron. Appleby and Bundit, lying on the pallet in the low lamplight, presented an inviting feast, and the two boys smiled as they hurriedly removed their clothing. The white man and Asian youth on the floor simply lay there, smiling, letting their guests begin the night's festivities.
Robert hesitated for a moment, torn between the two bodies on the pallet. Then, for the sake of a change from the night before, he gleefully slid down and onto Appleby, stretching himself out on the man's muscular body, his pink penis grinding down into the larger, rigid tube beneath him. Appleby hugged the boy to his chest, his face buried in the muscular pectorals where the boy sucked each red nipple hungrily. The man's fingers dug into the boy's blonde hair, then slid down his back to grasp the rounded butt, squeezing and needing the globes of firm flesh as Robert writhed and humped. Then the boy scooted up along Appleby's rippled abdomen and the two locked lips, kissing passionately, tongues caressing tongues. Robert kneaded Appleby's shoulders while the man worked the boy's bottom with his fingers, lubricating them with the precum from his own rampant dick and inserting the slick fingers into the blonde boy's anus.
Meanwhile, Aaron lowered himself with a giggle onto Bundit. He delighted in playing with the Asian youth's thick bush of black hair, as close to hair like his own as he had ever seen. Aaron's puckered lips were planted onto Bundit's rosebud lips and the black slave and Asian youth sucked and tongued, pulling lips into mouths where they were gently bitten, sharing the same breath. The black boy's stiff, thick penis rode up and down on Bundit's abdomen as he moved his groin, while Bundit's own rigid reddish gold cock curved up between Aaron's legs and arched up over the black boy's ass and ballsack, dribbling precum onto the dark skin below. Aaron closed his thighs around Bundit's organ and began humping up and down, bringing exquisite pleasure to the Asian youth.
Now Appleby took command, an idea forming in his mind for how to arrange matters. Remaining on his back, he reached for the lubricant he had at hand and slicked up his rampant cock; Robert was already well lubricated with his precum. Pushing the blonde boy up, Appleby slid him backward onto his rigid penis, impaling him as the boy gasped. Then Appleby called for Bundit, with urgency. Seeing what was required, the Asian youth lubricated his own anus quickly, then spread the oily stuff over Robert's dick which stuck out, arching over Appleby's belly. Bundit slid down onto Robert's dick. Two were now impaled, sitting on Appleby, facing him, each quivering with anticipation and a desire to begin pumping, but the white man was not finished. Finally motioning Aaron over, he oiled Bundit's rigid cock and Aaron's anus, then pushed the black boy down onto the Asian dick. It was more painful for Aaron than for the others, and his breath seethed through clenched teeth, but soon the crisis passed and he was well seated on the stiff penis of the Asian youth. By now, Aaron was so far forward that his fat cock slipped easily into Appleby's mouth.
The white man was like a boat carrying a cargo of black, Asian, and white beauty; he pushed up with his groin, shoving his dick up against Robert's butt. The blonde boy pushed back, then shoved forward into Bundit as Appleby receded a bit, and Bundit in his turn ground his firm bottom into Robert's groin. As Robert pulled back to receive Appleby's thrust, Bundit pushed forward into Aaron, who thrust backward, almost pulling his penis back out of Appleby's mouth, who leaned forward hungrily to keep it enveloped with his lips. Like a locomotive of flesh, the four picked up the rhythm set by Appleby's hips, nobody swinging very far in or out so as not to break the connection, nobody going very fast so as to maintain perfect coordination.
The arrangement prolonged their pleasure, which was intense. Faces pressed forward into thick black hair. Hands grasped shoulders or reached around to scratch at chests and to pinch nipples. Appleby's hands ran up and down the multi- colored array of flesh above him, all now slick with perspiration. Mindful of the need for quiet, their overwhelming pleasure was expressed in ragged breaths and exclamations softly whispered.
Robert came first, slamming into Bundit, supported by Appleby's upward push with his groin. He seized the Asian youth around the middle and pulled in tight, his semen flowing in a steady stream. Then Bundit came, his hips jerking in and out of Aaron which at the same time excited Robert's captive penis even more. Now it was Appleby's turn to pump his groin up and down and then up, pushing his white juice into the blonde boy's round butt. And finally the twelve year old Aaron reached his climax, slamming his groin forward into Appleby's face with a whispered "Oh!" and in the process pulling off of Bundit's throbbing dick entirely. The Asian boy rolled off to one side of Appleby trailing a line of semen, Robert rolled off to the other side, and both lay panting as Aaron finished quivering and shaking in his passion. Then the black boy simply slid back down Appleby's torso and lay there, panting.
The moon rolled slowly through the sky as breath returned to normal, hands played with other hands or with hair or simply rubbed the nearest chest or abdomen. Not wanting to be missed should his father wake, Robert rose first, gesturing to Aaron. Both boys dressed quickly. The four came together in a loose hug, kisses were lightly planted all around, and then they slipped out. Appleby and Bundit embraced warmly and then lay back down together for sleep.
The next day the bugle blew early again. It was time to close up camp and return. The men straggled over to the field kitchen in the dewy damp for one more breakfast. Each commander walked among his men, commending them for their efforts. Appleby followed Carter Ashley, alongside Robert, and winked surreptitiously at Silas as the youth was being thanked, causing poor Silas to blush furiously, which he covered with a feigned coughing fit. The men were dismissed to pack up their own belongings. As Appleby and his friends returned to their tents they found that their servants had already collapsed them and were in the process of stowing their belongings neatly away.
The sun dispersed the clouds and dew, and the men had a pleasant hike back to the landing area. Appleby walked with this group and then with that, conversing on general topics. Hanging back to walk with the baggage, he managed to slip alongside Aaron, who smiled up at the white man.
"Aaron.... you know Rodney, at Ashley Plantation, do you not?" Aaron assured him that he did. "Very well.... I once told Rodney that if he should ever wish to leave Ashley, he should get word to me. I am saying the same to you now. You would be welcome at Seaward, under whatever circumstances would bring you there." The boy looked thoughtful, then nodded, a brilliant white smile splitting his dark face. Appleby rumpled his hair playfully, then moved off.
The group reached the landing area. Some would leave from there by horse, some had boats waiting for them at the long pier, some simply continued walking on the road toward Charleston; Silas was one of these, and Appleby waved to him, receiving a smile in return. Seeing the Hesperus with Troy and Hector aboard, Bundit quickly began moving the camping equipment and other baggage from the cart to the boat. As he was occupied in this task, Robert took Appleby by the arm and tugged him a step or two to the side of the group.
"Appleby," he began. "Your slave, the Chinaman.... have you ever thought of selling him? I would give you a very fair price." Appleby stared at the boy, certain that he had simply misunderstood the information he had been given two days ago.
"Bundit is my servant, he is not a slave. I cannot sell him," said Appleby.
Robert made a dismissive gesture with his hand. "Well, of course you could. Just bring him to Ashley on some pretense and we would take him from there. We could soon.... accustom him to that life. He's a Chinaman," he said with some annoyance, "what could he possibly do about it?"
Appleby simply stared into the boy's crystal blue eyes, lovely as Lucifer's on the morning he fell from heaven. He knew later that it was a saving moment for him, for the memory of the boy's statements kept at bay what might have become a passionate love in Appleby's heart. In the boy's eyes he saw calculation, and greed, and a hunger for dominance, and.... emptiness. With a great struggle, Appleby forced a smile and said, "He is not for sale." Then, pleading the press of business at Seaward, he shook Robert's hand, remembering to make it a warm handshake. Likewise he found Carter Ashley and Colonel Gillam and bade them farewell, then with as much haste as was seemly he walked down the pier to the Hesperus and bade his friends cast off.
Appleby sat silently next to Troy at the tiller as the Hesperus caught a breeze and slipped past Charleston and out into the harbor. "Is anything wrong, master?" asked Troy, smiling.
"It's an evil world, Troy," said Appleby. Troy nodded, waiting, as the two sat for a few minutes more. "Troy," Appleby began, "I want to say this again. You are not my slave. You do not have to do anything I tell you to do. Oh," he added, "and I love you very much." Tears began trickling down his cheeks. Hector and Bundit paused in their tasks farther toward the bow, worried and concerned.
Troy sat looking at Appleby, thinking for a moment. Then he scooped the white man toward him with his big brown hand and mashed him into his side. "Something happened back there, didn't it, master?" Appleby could only nod, overcome with the emotions of the weekend and the injustice of humankind. "Tell me about it," said Troy, gently working the white man's shoulder. And they sat like that, talking, as the Hesperus moved away from the world toward home.