It was modern times, 1859, and I was in my mid twenties living the good life in New Orleans on an ample allowance. My grandpappy and pappy had grown very wealthy off our family's eight hundred acre plantation, which was blessed with rich delta soil, as well as a thriving side business of selling slaves that we raised in our breeding compound. While an old black man, Rastus, supervised planting and harvesting the crops, a white man (who even when I was a little boy knew was extremely mean), Hodding Fenton, supervised breeding, raising and selling the slaves. He was so corrupt that he used to take money from white trash boys who wanted the privilege (and enjoyment) of covering young black wenches in the breeding cabins.
Though I spend most of my time in the city now, in my mansion in the Flower District, I fondly remember my privileged childhood at Sapling Bayou. With two older sisters, I was the only boy, and named after my pappy, Beauregard Saunders, Jr. Everyone calls me Beau. My mother was a typical, delicate southern belle, pampered by her personal maid, hairdresser, seamstress, cook, and a lady companion. I hardly ever saw her. So I was mainly raised by my black nanny, Jocelyn. She started as my wet nurse and then inherited the job of nanny when my old nanny, Rosabelle, passed on. My sisters had a higher class, mulatto, French speaking nanny, named Clarisse, who as they got older became less of a nanny and more of a lady-in-waiting and chaperone.
From about the age of six I was regularly provided with a live-in black boy about my age to play with, keep me company and generally do my bidding as a body servant. The "play" boys knew that they must be completely subservient because I could have them sold down the river to another plantation if they did not do what I told them. My first play boy was name Joshua. We had great times roaming the plantation, hanging around the cook house, riding my two ponies, and rowing my little dinghy on the creek and its bayou tributaries (Josh did most of the rowing). At first he slept at the foot of my bed on a pallet, but after a few weeks I told him to take his clothes off and get in bed with me. I wasn't sexually developed yet, but holding him and rubbing up against his smooth black skin was very pleasant. He knew that when dawn broke he had to slip back to his pallet, before the maid brought in my early morning beignets and creamy, sweetened coffee. If Joshua was in my good graces I would let him slip back into my bed and share the pastry and coffee with him after the maid had left. Josh was my companion for two years until he took sick and died from swamp fever. I was inconsolable for weeks after.
So, I was eight when nanny Jocelyn told me Mr. Fenton had acquired a fancy light skinned boy my age from a private owner in the city. The boy was named Halfshell, because one of his balls was missing. He became my new play boy and we hit it off right away. He told me about all kinds of kinky things he had witnessed and participated in as the fancy boy servant to a very rich New Orleans man who only kept company with men and boys, not women. Shell was called a fancy boy because it was his master's custom to dress him in flamboyant, colorful silk costumes when he was acting as a footman/waiter at one of the depraved soirees, or was being a decorative helper to the two coachmen that drove Mr. Fonsagreve's formal carriage drawn by four white horses. Shell lost his position when a jealous rival falsely accused him of stealing some bauble or other.
It was Shell who introduced me to the pleasures of having one's penis sucked and manipulated. After he brought me to my first, pre-pubescent dry orgasm I was so overwhelmed that I told him he no longer had to leave my bed at dawn before the maid came in. Over the next three years we had many pleasant adventures together, becoming more muscular and each gaining about four inches in height. When we were both eleven, Shell started sprouting kinky hair under his arms and around his privates. I was disappointed that my manly hair wasn't growing in yet.
One day I couldn't find him and went searching for him in some of our favorite hiding places. Approaching a weeping willow that was surrounded by a thicket of saplings, I heard some noises. I parted the greenery with my hands and peered through to the area we had long ago cleared out. I saw Shell, on his knees, fellating one of the white horse trainers. I was amazed when the man stopped him, had him remove his burlap shirt, one-button trousers and undergarments, and raise his arms to lean against the tree trunk. He took what looked like a bottle of hair tonic out of his side pocket and poured some down the crack of Shell's ass and onto his own dick. When he pushed the head of his dick against the boy's butt-hole I thought I faintly heard, "Yes, Massa! Push it in me. Have your way with me." Upon witnessing the horse trainer shove his dick up Shelly's backside, I turned on my heel and went to find Mr. Fenton, jealous tears streaming down my face. I found Mr. Fenton outside the breeding compound, talking to a piece of pimply white trash.
When he saw my distress he asked, "What's wrong, Master Beau?" I told him that Halfshell had displeased me mightily and I wanted him sold down the river at once.
"Yes, Master Beau, I'll set that in motion right away," said Fenton, heading for the big house.
Before I could follow him, the piece of white trash had the nerve to ask me if I, being the privileged son and heir, had 'covered any wenches' in the slave quarter.
"Good God, no! I have no use for womankind," I said, and headed back to the mansion and my now lonely room.
By the time I was twelve, I had sprouted manly hair in my armpits, and, more importantly, around my dick. Mr. Fenton got me a lovely 12-year-old brown-skinned boy to be my play boy. His name was Josephus, I called him Jo. This boy was magnificent. He was built like a brick shit house and, much to my pleasure and enjoyment, he was always horny. Being versatile, he not only sucked me, he introduced me to anal sex, both top and bottom. God, how I loved it! When the maid came in with my coffee and beignets just after dawn she would often catch us humping each other under the covers. Jo had a pretty face, beautiful almond-shaped eyes, furry armpits and a wonderful shag of curly, kinky pubic hair. The hair up his ass drove me wild, too. Jo enjoyed most of the things my previous play boys had liked, but he especially favored two things, riding in the coach and four and floating around the bayou in my little rowboat. We found a number of preferred trysting spots in the bayou under the trees laden with Spanish moss. We would tie the dinghy up at our favorite places and make love for hours. Jo was my lover for the next five years. Really, he was the love of my life until I was college age and went off for four years to the University of Virginia. I never learned how Fenton disposed of Josephus.
As a rich boy at university I had my pick of sex partners. I tried doing the nasty a few times with my white fellow students, but it wasn't the same. Once you've had black meat you never go back to white. A procurer provided me with black boys whenever I felt the need for one. I learned a lot at university. The summer after my junior year I sailed to England and familiarized myself with London. World travel is fascinating, yes, but what I really looked forward to was getting situated in New Orleans and living a life similar to that of Shell's Mr. Fonsagreves.
A year later I had my university degree and returned to Louisiana. After throwing a lavish welcome home party for me at Sapling Bayou, my pappy agreed to buy me a house in New Orleans, and there I was -- a rich twenty-two year old man-about-town in one of the most fascinating and cosmopolitan cities in the world. Through Mr. Fenton, now getting on in years, I found the ideal majordomo to run my mansion in the Flower District. Renfrew was a light-skinned man in his mid- thirties from Lafourche Parish. He had been rendered a eunuch when his evil master had him castrated after finding out that his oldest daughter was having a sexual affair with him on the plantation. Little did the man know that his daughter had demanded sexual favors of Renfrew only after discovering her younger brother being screwed by him.
It took Renfrew only about three weeks to staff my new home, Chez Beau, and have it running smoothly. Ren, as majordomo, of course doubled as my butler. With my approval he hired a cook, a coachman/groundskeeper, a white stable boy and a black cleaning girl who came in five days a week. A couple of weeks after that I received a letter from Mr. Fenton saying he was trying to place two dark twelve-year-old twins named Brent and Brett. Superstitious darkies thought that identical twins were bad luck. I replied immediately to Fenton saying that I would be glad to have the services of the two black boys in my new house. The twins arrived three days later and I placed them under the supervision and tutelage of my man, Renfrew. When first presented to me, they were somewhat timid and frightened, but within a couple of days the two gorgeous, sexy twins were completely at ease. I had Ren take them to my tailor in town who made them four matching outfits in as many colors.
In addition to their duties as house boys, I knew they would soon learn how to satisfy all my sexual needs, because Ren would teach them to be ideal catamites. He told me later how he broke them in, teaching them the techniques of pleasing a man in every way. Ren instructed them in bodily hygiene, personally taught them the sensuous art of kissing and introduced them to the joys of being fellated to climax. They readily took to his suggestion that they make love to one other. They were soon sucking and fucking each other with abandon in their third-floor bedroom. The lubricant of choice was lard, which they obtained from my Creole cook, Michelle. I didn't have to worry about the eunuch screwing my boys, and I didn't mind if he gave them a little head from time to time.
Their bedroom and mine on the floor below were connected by a secret spiral staircase hidden behind moveable bookcases in each room. Most Monday, Wednesday and Friday evenings Renfrew would see to it that they bathed and douched after supper and then he would give them each a lit candle and send them naked down the secret staircase to my room. The only way I could tell the darling boys apart was from the small mole on Brent's left buttock. If I was sitting reading by the light of the kerosene lamp in my lounge chair they would set their candles down and run grinning to me, softly calling, "Massa Beau! Massa Beau!" Then they usually pulled my dressing gown open and vied for the privilege of sitting in my lap. I often defused this rivalry by having Brent and Brett sit one on each of my knees facing me. After hugging them close and kissing each boy on the lips I liked them to pleasure me by kissing and sucking on my nipples. There was one nipple for each, which worked out quite well. On the other hand I had only one sex organ which they had to take turns sucking on, or, one would drop to his knees and fellate me while the other stood with his feet planted on either side of my thighs on the seat cushion and push his dick into my mouth.
The permutations of sex positions were endless. If they found me in bed they would slip under the covers, cuddle up and start their hands roaming over my naked body. Often one would go under the covers to give me head while I traded passionate kisses with the other. Sometimes they would give me a live sex show, screwing each other on top of the covers as I watched. I almost always enjoyed sloppy seconds, humping their beautiful butts after they had lubed and warmed each other up. I discovered that Brett (the one without the birthmark) had such a sensitive prostate that he could climax and ejaculate merely from being screwed by my dick. I'm afraid it may have given me a little too much pride in my prowess as a swordsman. It was especially exciting when Brett sat facing me on the chair, his rectum impaled by my engorged member, my hands under his globes controlling his ups and downs until, otherwise untouched, he would throw his head back with a cry and spew his boy seed from his dick onto my chest and belly.
It was only on the rare occasions that I had one of the twins alone in my bed that I would let one or the other screw me in the backside. That way each thought it was a special treat that "Massa Beau" had granted only to them. Actually, it was a special treat for me. If we were on top of the covers I would hold up a hand mirror so that I could see as well as feel the boy jumping up and down in my ass. The lustful expressions crossing his face as he plowed his "Massa" were often priceless.