Shores of Tripoli Ch. 02

Billy usually did come sometime in this process. This was still being controlled, if not fucked rough. There was nothing special in Hammond's cock working inside him. But this was still someone controlling him and working out his form of rage on Billy. So, sometime during the process, Billy did work up enough arousal to come himself.

When Hammond had come, he wanted Billy out of the bed immediately, and he just turned over on his side, facing another faded-flower-papered wall and started snoring.

Billy didn't mind. He sensed that he had gone too far in Charleston. Vanilla sex was fine with him for a while. It gave him opportunity to review what he had done and what he really wanted. He knew that what he'd been doing was self-destructive. He just didn't know how to stop. Maybe the way of his father and uncle was best: to work his ass to exhaustion and to keep his sex vanilla and routine. Enough of that and he might lose interest in men. He knew that at some time he would need to take a wife and become as fat and dull as other men of his class. Perhaps taking the thrill and danger away would "cure" Billy of his "illness" just as his father thought it might.

The vanilla routine didn't last for long, though. The day that the levees were all repaired and the fields were flooded for one last time before harvest, it appeared that everything was finally in order on the plantation, with no other immediate chores at hand, toward the late afternoon. The crew moved wearily to a stand of trees in the plantation house's lower garden, just above the river's edge, off to the side of the rice fields, and near where the plantation's wharf ran out into the river. At least Billy was moving wearily, every muscle of his body screaming its objection. Objectionable as it was, though, the work was hardening Billy's body to the point that whereas he had been well formed before, now he was muscled and cut.

"What now?" he asked as he flopped down on the moss under a magnolia tree.

"Tomorrow we begin to check the tools for the harvest to make sure all are in order," said one of the most heavily muscled of the blacks. His skin was a lighter color than most of the others, and he had two names. His first name was Felix, but he was permitted to use Rawley as his surname. Billy had had no trouble understanding why that was. He was a family by-blow by one of the female slaves. Probably a half-brother to Charles himself—young enough to be Charles's too, for that matter. Whatever he was, he was often the one who spoke for the group. Spear made the decisions, but Felix voiced what those decisions were.

"But today, now," Felix continued. "We fuck."

"What?" Billy asked, in confusion.

"We fuck you. Spear wants to fuck you. He wants to show a Rawley he is not afraid of them."

"I'm not really a Rawley," Billy objected, but he looked up from where he was sprawled. Spear was standing over him. He was naked and holding a half-hard cock out.

"Make love to it, and then we fuck." It was the most words Billy had yet to hear Spear string together, and his accent was so thick, Billy probably could not have understood what he was saying if it wasn't obvious what he wanted from the belligerent and aggressive stance he was taking. It was almost as if he wanted Billy to try to refuse to suck his cock so that Spear could beat the shit out of him—and then still make him suck the cock.

But Billy complied—gladly. When Spear was pleased with his work, he grunted to Felix, who was naked now as well. In response to Spear's command, Felix lifted Billy up to his feet from behind, laced his arms under Billy's armpits and clamped his fists together at the nape of Billy's neck, immobilizing the young man. Spear moved in close; he lifted and parted Billy's legs and slowing worked his cock into Billy's channel to much moaning and sighing from Billy.

This was far better than Hammond. Billy loved having the black cock inside him. And he loved having Felix hold him captive for the assault.

Fully encased, Spear held there. Billy wrapped his legs around Spear's waist and hooked his ankles above the black slave's bulbous buttocks. His hands free now, Spear touched Billy's chest, tracing the remnants of the whip and cigarette burn scars from Billy's encounters with the Reverend Andrew Apsley, which were fading but were still evident. Billy was being lulled, wondering if this was all that would happen.

But then Spear started to pump him. Hard and deep. And to punch his chest and twist his nipples. Billy opened his mouth to scream, but one of the other slaves was there with a strip of material to gag him. Billy's eyes were wide and watering. But they were alight with fire. He screamed silently again as Felix started to enter his channel with his cock from the rear, pushing in above Spear's now-dormant, but full implanted tool. In their brutal double-penetration fuck, Felix fucked for a while and then rested as Spear resumed the rhythm of the fuck. Billy shot off again and again up Spear's belly until, with much vocalization, Spear and Felix managed to ejaculate nearly simultaneously.

Billy had been silenced, but Felix and Spear hadn't. An underseer heard and then saw the commotion. He went for Hammond, who arrived and watched in hiding from behind some bushes, in time for the climax.

The slaves let Billy slide off their cocks down to the ground. Hammond was taken by surprise, though, when Billy unsteadily rose up on his knees, hugged Spear's legs, and took the slave's cock in his mouth and cleaned it. The overseer realized then that Billy had enjoyed the double fucking by darkies. He turned away in disgust.

Spear raised a foot, planted it in the center of Billy's chest, and pushed Billy to the ground on his back, holding Billy pinned to the ground with his bare foot. He and Felix turned toward the other men of the crew, with Spear giving an invitation to anyone else who wanted to have their turn with Billy. Enough did to occupy the crew until dark. Even Spear showed amazement when Billy opened his legs to the first man who knelt over him and guided the man's cock inside him with his hands.

When Billy struggled to the overseer's house, Hammond came out on the front porch; cursed Billy, telling him he'd have no part of an ass that had been taken by a darky; and told him he could go to the single-men's hut on slave row. Billy did so gladly and was to enjoy his nights better from then on than he had in the overseer's house. Billy could not lie to himself. No, he could not prefer the vanilla sex offered by Hammond over the exciting, masterful punishment he received from others, including ebony studs. Being free didn't make your cocking superior.

Out of curiosity, Billy crept up to a window of the overseer's house one night at a particular hour, just to see how much of a man of routine Hammond was. Sure enough, he was going through all four stages of his sex need with one of the younger, more effeminate male house slaves. And Billy could see that the young black man was laying there, counting the faded flowers on the wallpaper just as he'd done.

On the fourth night in the slave men's hut Billy felt the heaviness of Spear's body lower itself on him on his mattress of feathers and corn cobs on the dirt floor, Billy turned his body within Spear's embrace; opened his legs to the giant, already in full erection; and rolled up his pelvis.

"You are so good," Spear murmured. "No more hate fuck. Tonight we make love."

"No, please, Spear. Take me hard again. Keep that hate in your eyes. Remember that I am of the Rawleys. That it was white men like me who brought you here and enslaved you. And I would have done it myself given the chance."

Spear growled his remembrance, rose up on his knees and backhanded Billy across the cheek, snapping Billy's head to the side, putting him into a daze. Billy snapped out of the daze almost immediately, however, as Spear grabbed for his balls and, squeezing them, lifted Billy's pelvis off the surface of the mattress. Billy screamed in pain and glorious anticipation as Spear thrust his cock hard and deep inside Billy's channel, still gripping Billy's balls hard. Eye's watering, gasping for breath, Billy reached down to grip the buttocks of the man assaulting him, and cried out, "Yes, yes. Punish me. Fuck me hard!" The glorious pain of being taken hard and deep and rough in the passion of rage was sending Billy to heaven.

Barely a week later and full of spite and hurt pride, Hammond contacted Charles Rawley in Charleston and told him his nephew was conducting lewd practices with the male slaves.

This was the last straw for the Charleston branch of the family. The last time Billy saw Charles Rawley was on Brown's Wharf as Billy was being put aboard the Elizabeth, one of Rawley's merchant vessels, named after his daughter who had sought to seduce Billy herself, and the same vessel that had brought Billy to Charleston from Boston. Billy was being sent as a sailor on the vessel in its journey to deliver a cargo of polished South Carolina rice to Alexandria, Egypt.

Billy tried his best to resist conveying to his long-suffering uncle that this was exactly what he had wanted all along—to be sailing before the mast.