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Subject: Master of River’s Bend Chapter 21 Master of River’s Bend Chapter 21 “The Morning After” Posted by Jean-Christophe, February, 2018 This is a story of erotic slave fiction and should only be read by adults those over the legal age of their places of residence. If you are underage, please leave! The characters and events in this story are products of the writer’s imagination and aren’t based on any real characters or actual events. Please respect the integrity of the writer’s work and don’t do any rewrites, make alterations or add another person’s artwork without permission. If you enjoy Nifty, please consider making a donation to help them continue to bring you this service. Nifty needs your financial support to continue publishing these stories for your enjoyment. If you’d like to help, please donate to fty/donate.html Chapter 21: Ramses faces the day with trepidation! Today, he begins his new life as a naked, white slave toiling on River’s Bend Plantation. Just twenty-four hours ago, as the free man, Luke Trevannion, he’d eaten a hearty breakfast – served to him by his Black slave, Nestor – prior to disembarking from the riverboat at River’s Bend Plantation’s private wharf. There, for the first time, he was to meet his father’s black sheep cousin, Beauregard St Jean, the owner of River’s Bend. He’d never meet Beauregard and the invitation to visit the plantation was unexpected. Even more surprising was Beauregard’s reason for extending the invitation; he stated he was considering Luke as his possible heir and the future owner of River’s Bend. Keen to make a favourable impression on his unknown relative, Luke had gone to great pains to impress Beauregard. He’d instructed Nestor to take particular care in dressing him in the new clothes his mother had purchased for his stay at River’s Bend and he had naively stepped ashore into an unimaginably bleak future. He quickly learnt that all wasn’t as he’d expected. Here, At River’s Bend, Blacks are the masters and white men are the naked slaves who labour under the direction and whips of their Black overseers. Even his cousin, Beauregard is a naked, white slave known as Ptolemy who belongs to the “real” Black owner and Master of River’s Bend’s, Massa Charles. Indeed, by day’s end, Luke is also enslaved and renamed Ramses by his new master while his former slave Nestor is now a free man who has taken the name Yancy as his own. He stands in the kitchen; Ptolemy has told him Massa Charles forbids his slaves to sit or to use any of the household furniture or fittings. This is a serious breach of etiquette and is rewarded with a severe caning or an ass paddling – depending on Massa Charles’ mood at the time. Not that he could sit even if it was allowed as his ass is too sore. Last night, his new Master – as was his right – had taken his virginity and fucked him long and hard. This is something Luke Trevannion had often fantasized about. For as long as he could remember, he’d lusted after Black slaves and their well-endowed sexual organs. He’d often taken solitary walks through the fields surrounding his parents’ home and watched the Black slaves as they worked. There, he’d imagined how it would feel to have a massive Black cock ravish his tender, young ass as he secretly masturbated behind a hedgerow. Well, now he knows. Last night, Massa Charles and initiated him into Black on white and Master and slave sex. He’d learnt comprehensively that as an inferior, white slave he has to totally suppress his own emotions and to surrender his body to his new Black Master’s lust. His own sexual needs don’t count; they are unimportant and he understands that his role is now to pleasure Massa Charles or any other Blacks that his Master allows to use him. Last night, there’d been some initial discomfort and pain but this had eventually given way to pleasure as Massa Charles’ cock opened up his virgin hole and thrust deeper into the inner recesses of his body. He must have pleased his new Master who told him that he is a “good fuck”. Afterwards, Ramses had slept on the floor alongside his Master’s bed and contemplated the momentous events of his first day at River’s Bend. As he lay there, Ramses imagined there’d been a degree of affection on Massa Charles’ part during the sexual act. In thinking this, he was badly mistaken and this morning Massa had proved his disdain for his new slave by forcefully raping him thus demonstrating to him that, as a slave, he is no more than an empty vessel for his Master’s insatiable lust. Ramses stands at a table in the kitchen with his legs splayed to ease the discomfort of his stretched and swollen asshole. Using his fingers, he is eating cold grits and greasy bacon pieces out of a battered, tin bowl. These were given to him by the cook to eat while Ptolemy serves Massa Charles and Boss Yancy their breakfasts in the dining-room. As he eats, Ramses worries what the day holds for him. He knows that is a decision for Boss Yancy to make and he wonders what work he’ll be given to perform. Instinctively, he knows it will be onerous; Yancy as his former slave, Nestor no doubt has plans to extract justifiable retribution ankara otele gelen escort for the past wrongs he’d suffered in the Trevannion household. He doesn’t have long to wait to find out! Ptolemy bustles into the kitchen to take a fresh brew of coffee back to the dining-room where Massa Charles and Boss Yancy are waiting. He has instructions for Ramses. “Ramses! I have instructions for you from Boss Yancy. He said you’re to get your lazy, white ass around to the bottom of the front steps and wait for him to take you out into the fields to begin your labours. You’re to wait there in the display position with your body erect, your hands clasped behind your head and your feet about fifteen inches apart. And with your head bowed.” “But I haven’t finished eating.” Ramses protests. “That’s too bad! In future, you’ll learn not to linger over your food but to eat quickly. You can never anticipate what orders a Master will suddenly give you. And you must obey IMMEDIATELY!” “But if I don’t eat breakfast I’ll be hungry by lunchtime.” Ramses grumbles. “There’ll be no lunch for you, Ramses!” Ptolemy laughs heartily. “You’re not Black gentry; you’re a slave and the plantation’s work slaves are fed twice a day – first thing in the morning as they are roused from their sleep and last thing at night when their work day is over. However, you’ll be given a ration of water to drink during the day. The overseers won’t want you passing out for lack of water.” Defiantly, Ramses spoons another mouthful of food into his mouth. “If either Massa or Boss Yancy had seen you do that, you’d have earned yourself a well- deserved caning, Ramses.” Ptolemy reprimands. “Now move yourself and get around to the front of the house. And one more thing, When Massa or Boss Yancy come out onto the porch don’t forget to fall to your knees with your nose to the ground and your ass poking upwards. Make sure your knees are spread as wide apart as possible so that your asshole is open to their scrutiny and rearrange your balls so that they hang low and swing freely between your thighs.” “Why does Massa makes us do that, Ptolemy? “Ramses, always remember our Black Masters like to see their white slaves humiliate themselves. They like nothing better than to see a slave with his ass opened up and his hole puckering from the strain this places upon it and with his balls on prominent show. Of course, when they approach you, you’ll crawl to Massa and then to Boss Yancy and kiss their feet as a mark of your submission and respect. And you’ll do the same to any Black overseers who are placed in charge of you. I can’t promise you and easy day. Quite the contrary, I think it will be a most difficult one for you, Ramses. But remember you are now a slave and this is the life you so desperately wanted. You’re to spend the rest of your days working here at River’s Bend or until Master decides to sell you.” At the mention of being sold, Ramses panics. “Is that likely to happen Ptolemy? Would Massa ever sell me?” “Who knows, Ramses?” All things are possible. A slave is at the complete mercy of its owner. If Massa decides to sell you – or even me – there’s nothing to be done about it. A slave’s future is at the whim of its Master. But don’t fret too much; I’m sure Massa has plans for you that extend well into the future. He wants to breed you so that there’s a future white “owner” for River’s Bend. By the way, speaking of breeding, how is your ass? Sore? From what I overheard Massa telling Boss Yancy, he gave it quite a pounding. How many times did he fuck you, Ramses?” “Twice! Last night, he seemed to go on for ever. It hurt at first but after a while I began to enjoy it. But this morning Massa was very different. Massa was brutal and he really hurt me. I am very sore.” “I gathered that from what Massa told Boss Yancy. Massa wants the vet to look at you and give you a salve to ease your swollen asshole. And Massa said you’re not to be fucked for day or two. Boss Yancy looked disappointed at this. Obviously, he was hoping to use your ass very soon. But Massa told him to be patient and that you’re worth waiting for as you are a ‘great fuck’. Obviously, you pleased Massa. Well done, Ramses. And you’ll find that Massa can be very rough at times but you must learn to take that in your stride.” “What about you, Ptolemy? Did Boss Yancy use you?” “He certainly did” Ptolemy answer with a broad grin. “I spent the night with Boss Yancy. He is insatiable and I lost count of the number of times he used both ends of me. He is very young and eager. As you know I am a one-man slave although occasionally Massa lends me to Boss Edward. But I have to admit it was great to be fucked by a much younger man. I know you’ll enjoy Boss Yancy using you too. His cock is magnificent and he is very virile. He has powerful hips so that he thrusts deep into your ass. In fact, I can still feel his cock moving inside of me. It’s a great feeling. Then again, there’s nothing to equal a Black man’s cock for pleasure whether it’s forcing its way down your throat or up your ass. I can’t ever get enough of Massa’s cock, Ramses. öveçler escort What a lucky slave you are with the possibility that one day you’ll belong to Boss Yancy. Count your blessings, Ramses.” Ramses thinks on this. Does a slave ever have any blessings to count? He’s beginning to have his doubts despite his long held fantasies to the contrary. “Although, I did feel he is inexperienced.” Ptolemy continues. “I guess your mother didn’t allow sex between your family slaves.” “Ptolemy, you are correct. Mother is very prudish and forbade any sex between our slaves. She always said she didn’t want them behaving like filthy animals rutting in her home.” “But enough of the idle chatter, Ramses. Now off you go. It wouldn’t be wise to keep Boss Yancy waiting. Good luck and try to please Boss Yancy.” Ramses’ apprehension of what awaits him out in the fields is very real. However, his fear of angering Massa Charles or Boss Yancy and of the cane overcomes his concerns. He moves towards the door which he knows will take him from the kitchen, past the dining-room and into the hallway opening onto the front porch. He places his hand on the door knob but is startled by Ptolemy’s angry shout. “Ramses, what are you doing? Where do you think, you’re going?” Confused, Ramses answers. “To the bottom of the front steps like you told me.” “NOT THAT WAY, FOOL! Slaves are forbidden to enter Massa’s house unless they have been allocated house duties or Massa has sent for a them. From now on, you must consider yourself a field-slave until Massa decides otherwise. The house is out of bounds to you. Now leave through the back door and never enter the house without permission or until Massa sends for you. Now run to the front steps and wait for Massa and Boss Yancy. Crestfallen, Ramses does as Ptolemy tells him. He leaves through the back door and runs quickly to the front steps where he adopts the display position and waits. And he isn’t alone. Two other naked, white slaves wait with him. A young, stable-slave stands in the deep shade of a spreading oak tree holding the reins of Massa Charles black stallion, Pegasus. While Massa’s favourite equine is sheltered from the sun’s rays, the second slave, harnessed to a light two-wheeled cart, is less fortunate; he is tethered to a hitching rail adjacent to the steps leading onto the front porch. Unlike Pegasus, the pony slave stands in the full glare of the early morning sun. Already, he is feeling the effects of the heat and his muscular, deeply tanned torso is covered in an oily sheen of his sweat. Both slaves stare at Ramses but don’t speak as slaves are strictly forbidden to speak to one another outside of the slave-stables when on work assignments. However, their curiosity is aroused. Already, they know who he is and the manner of his enslavement for word has quickly spread that the future heir to River’s Bend Plantation is now a slave and one of their number. An efficient information grapevine that misses nothing exists among the plantation’s slaves. Starved of all mental stimulation and knowledge of the world beyond the plantation’s boundary, gossip is their only source of news. All slaves listen intently to the conversations between their Black overseers and this is passed, word of mouth, from one slave to another and becomes the main talking-point in the slave-stables at night. Of course, the slaves had known for some time that the future heir to the plantation had been invited to stay and yesterday, those slaves, loading cargo at the wharf, had seen him arrive to be greeted by Massa Charles’ slave, Ptolemy. The fact that Ptolemy wore clothes for his young cousin’s arrival had intrigued them for they were unused to seeing Ptolemy other than naked – like them. And as the momentous events of Luke Trevannion’s enslavement and the setting free of his black body slave unfolded, it was the main talking-point among the overseers. Naturally, the slaves listened to these conversations with great interest and spread the word among themselves. Last night, in the stables, the slaves’ conversation about Luke’s enslavement was gleefully told and retold and discussed in great detail. There isn’t any sympathy for Luke for perversely, all slaves find pleasure when another unfortunate victim shares their fate. Sympathy for another slave is an emotion that gradually dies in all slaves as they progress further into their own servitude. Their personal suffering magnifies the awfulness of their lives; it dulls their senses and robs them of all vestiges of humanity. This indifference to another slave’s pain is their only coping mechanism. It allows them to dispassionately watch as another slave is flogged. Rather than feel any sympathy for their fellow slave, they feel gratitude that its he – and not them – who is tied to the whipping- post and relief that the whip isn’t cutting across their shoulders, back and ass. The two slaves watch as Ramses adopts the full display position and bows his head in total submission. His naked presence alongside them is living proof that yesterday’s rumours are true. Ramses stands silently and surreptitiously pendik escort surveys his two fellow slaves. The slave holding Pegasus’ reins is probably no older than nineteen or twenty – although he looks no more than seventeen – and has a slim, lithe body and brown hair. His body is smooth-shaven and he wears a metal collar around his neck identical to the one placed around Ramses’ neck last night. In time, Ramses will learn that he is the personal body-slave to Massa Charles’ beloved stallion. Massa thinks so highly of his horse that he has allocated a slave to permanently take care of his wellbeing. The slave is responsible to see that Pegasus is kept fed and watered and that his stall is permanently clean. Each morning, the slave’s first duty is to feed and water Pegasus after which he polishes the stallion’s hooves before grooming him with a curry comb and brush so that his coat shines a lustrous black. Then it is the slave’s responsibility to saddle Pegasus and lead him to the main house and wait in the shade of the old oak until Massa Charles appears. When Massa is ready to mount Pegasus, the slave falls onto all fours, arches his back and offers himself as a mounting stool to his master. Then, it is back to the stables to “muck” out Pegasus’ stall. Massa insists that the stall is cleaned daily and fresh, clean straw is strewn over the cobble- stoned floor for his stallion’s comfort. The slave is required to sleep just outside the stall so that he is available should Pegasus stir during the night and, as a special dispensation, he uses the old straw for his own bedding. Pegasus snickers and the slave reaches into a small pouch strapped around his waist for a tasty morsel – Ramses can’t see what it is – and offers it to the stallion in his cupped hand. Pegasus muzzles the treat from his slave’s hand and neighs for more. As he feeds the stallion further tasty treats, the slave soothingly strokes Pegasus mane and neck to calm him down as both horse and slave await their owner’s arrival. Pegasus, Massa Charles’ coal-black stallion has his own personal white slave to serve his needs and it would appear he is much indulged. The second slave, the one harnessed to the cart, is very different to the stable-slave. He is probably a year or two older and has a more robust, muscular physique. He has broad shoulders, a powerfully developed chest and a flat, ripped belly. His legs are long and his thighs are thick with muscle – no doubt all these are necessary attributes required of him as he serves as a pony-slave. His complexion is swarthy and speaks of his Mediterranean origins and his skin has been darkened by the sun to a deep mahogany brown. Unusually, Massa has retained the slave’s body hair. A thick, thatch of black hair, clipped back close to the skin, covers his chest and pectorals and a narrow line of hair trails down the centreline of his contoured belly to connect with the closely trimmed pubic hair in which his generous cock and balls nestle. His legs and forearms are also hairy. But it is the slave’s head that attracts Ramses’ attention. The slave’s head is bald save for a narrow, central strip of black hair – about three to four inches wide – which runs from the slave’s hairline at the forehead to the nape of his neck. The hair is long and flowing much like a horse’s mane which it is supposed to emulate. The slave is restless and shuffles his feet and Ramses hears the musical sound of bells. He looks down at the pony’s feet and he is appalled to see the slave has thick, leather cuffs fastened around his ankles. Several small bells are attached to the cuffs and each time the pony-slave moves, they begin to tinkle. As Ramses studies the pony-slave’s appearance, he is in awe of Massa Charles’ innate capacity to dehumanize, degrade and humiliate his white slaves. His attention is diverted from the pony-slave by the indistinct sound of Massa Charles’ and Boss Yancy’s conversation as they step out onto the front porch. Immediately, all three slaves adopt varying attitudes of respect. Pegasus’ slave kneels still holding the stallion’s reins but spreads his knees to display his genitals and bows his head. The pony-slave’s wrists and hands are fastened to the cart’s shafts and he can only stand with his head bowed and his feet spaced apart. Ramses on the other hand, falls to his knees and presses his face into the soft, damp earth with his ass elevated. He spreads his knees so that his ass-cheeks are stretched apart and his puckering ass-hole is fully open for close scrutiny. Then, remembering Ptolemy’s instructions, he reaches under his belly to rearrange his balls so that they hang low between his thighs. He is mortified to feel the first stirrings of an impending erection. As he does so often, Massa Charles pauses on the top steps and surveys his domain. He looks beyond the lush gardens – so carefully tended by the slave brothers, Horus and Osiris – and down the long driveway leading to the river which gives its endless supply of water to his crops. He notes with satisfaction, the slave gangs toiling in his fields and in the early morning air, he can hear the hiss and crackle of his overseers’ whips. He hears the distant thwack of raw leather falling on naked, white flesh and the distressed cries of his slaves as they are driven relentlessly to even greater effort on his behalf. He truly is the “king” of all he surveys. He is the “Master of River’s Bend”. To be continued ……………..

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