Chapter 5: Catching William

The next morning, John found himself awake plagued by a turbulent mix of guilt and desire. He felt ashamed for what he had done and experienced the previous night. He knew he should be disgusted by the wanton way he spilled his seed into his trousers as he watched the two slaves mate. He knew he should be appalled by the thought of ordering his slaves to mate.

And yet, the memory of the events he witnessed in the quarters stirred a hunger within him that couldn’t ignore. He would replay the scenes from last night over and over again in his mind. He could vividly recall the sight of Isaac losing himself in passion and the way the glow from the flickering candle had danced across Bonnie’s womanly curves. The arch of her back as she cried out, or the gentle curves of her full breasts as they swayed under his assault. The way her fingers, slick with sweat and arousal, dug into his tightly coiled back muscles. It was all he could think about. It was as if the images had infiltrated his thoughts, carving out permanent niches for themselves in the folds of his brain.

Even during his customary breakfast on the porch, John couldn’t help but let his gaze drift towards that area of the plantation. The memories of the night before flooded back, leaving him uneasy with his newfound feelings. He understood all too well that the emotions stirring in his loins were unholy. Emotions completely unbecoming a gentleman.

Hoping to distract his mind from these treacherous thoughts, John decided to go for a walk. He set off with a determined stride, leaving behind the prying eyes and ears of the plantation house staff. Slowly, the plantation house faded into obscurity, swallowed by the dense foliage that surrounded this corner of John’s property.

As John ventured further along the edge of the fields, the morning air was already thick with moisture. It clung to his skin and dampened his shirt, causing that clingy sensation only humidity could produce. But he scarcely noticed; his thoughts ensnared him with scenes of the previous night as persistently as the foliage encroached upon the makeshift path he now traversed.

He ambled past bountiful rows of lush green rice plants, their leaves swaying gently in the muggy breeze that blew in off the Atlantic coast. The vast tracts of fertile earth stretched out as far as the eye could see, ultimately merging with the sky in a brilliant blue haze.

John wandered mindlessly, mechanically acknowledging the babble of the nearby Twittering birds and the distant pounding of the small African drums he heard before—all while desperately trying to abate the carnal thoughts that continued to domineer and confuse him.

John continued his stroll across the vast landscape, but the mental image of Bonnie’s breasts, firm and brown, and Isaac’s engagingly large black cock glistening with their combined arousal, lingered disconcertingly. His thighs brushed against each other the slightest bit, enough that he felt the rigid firmness that had grown in his breeches making itself more insistent. With an effort, he pushed aside the as yet unnamed demands of his rapidly growing erection and continued his walk, hoping to clear his mind.

As he approached the northern edge of the property, his path took him through a grove of trees offering welcome respite from the glare of the sun. John paused, leaning heavily against a tree trunk and allowing the rustle of leaves and the songs of birds to ease his increasingly troubled thoughts.

He felt relieved to escape the sultry heat that weighed upon his clothes as well as his mind. The reprieve of the trees allowed space to hear his own feelings.

At first, his gut twisted, threatening to twist tighter into a ball of shame. The images of Isaac and Bonnie were inescapable; the imprint remained on his consciousness. The innocence of witnessing two consenting adult slaves was gone. In its place remained an engrained fascination and vivid desire.

John’s thoughts lingered to Isaac’s dripping-wet organ as he thrust into Bonnie, seeking something he himself craved. The intensity of their encounter kept invading John’s mind, a hidden part of him admiring and even coveting this graphic relationship between slaves in his possession.

He pushed these unwholesome ideas away, furrowing his brow in frustration and repulsion at himself. Shaking his head in hopes to physically dispel the arousing thoughts, John continued his wander through the jungle-like grove. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves and brushed his cheeks, eliciting a renewed awareness of his surroundings.

At this very moment, as if from thin air, John heard a rustle in the foliage nearby. Slowly, he turned his head to regard the origin of the unexpected commotion, half braced for some form of wildlife to charge forth from the wilderness. Instead, his curious gaze locked onto something that appeared far more startling, sending a frisson of shock-laced desire straight to the pit of his stomach.

John took in the sight of him before him, a young slave boy barely an adult, pleasuring himself as if practicing his own forbidden art. Shameful as it might have been, he could not look away from the mesmerizing vision of the young slave, William. His curiosity had won out, but now that he was here, he wasn’t repulsed as he had imagined he would be.

William was nearly blissful in his endeavor, entirely unbeknownst to the fact that he had an audience. His head was thrown back, his eyes closed tightly, mouth slightly open, and a low groan emanating from him. William’s hand worked furiously at his erection, the sound of his wet, slick skin moving with an urgent need. His thumb swiped and rubbed at the tip of his cock, spreading the precum glistening there.

John’s eyes filled with indescribable hunger, watching the youthful slave satisfy an urge that he himself had been unable to suppress hours ago. His heart raced as he stared, his own arousal quickly building to a crescendo that had him shifting uneasily in his hiding place.

The sight of William’s cock, hard and swollen with need, made every inch of John’s body grow tense with desire. The young slave’s cock was a work of art - long, curved, and heavy, with veins pulsating along its length.

It stood proudly, pointing upward, as if paying homage to the heavens above. The skin was a rich, velvety brown, unblemished and smooth. William’s hand gripped his length firmly, thumb caressing the tip before sliding down to meet his fingers.

John was utterly captivated, his own cock twitching in his trousers, eager and needy. He watched as William’s hands deftly moved up and down his shaft, each stroke deliberate, building up a rhythm that was both hypnotic and arousing.

Caught up in the moment, William’s eyelids fluttered close, his moans becoming softer and deeper as his pleasure mounted. His muscular frame was bathed in a golden hue from the sun’s rays that filtered through the trees’ leaves. William’s chest heaved with the force of his pants as he ecstatically pleasured himself, the rigid flesh of his cock yearning for release.

John couldn’t resist. He had to seize the opportunity to stealthily approach William, emerging from behind the surrounding foliage and advanced until he stood no more than a few feet away.

“Oh, oh fuck,” William gasped, snatching his hand away from his cock, eyes flying open in abject shock.

For a split second, John was almost tempted to offer his apologies and beat a hasty retreat, but then he saw the exquisite, glistening cock in front of him, and all noble thoughts abandoned him.

William attempted to shield himself as best he could, instinctively seeking protection against the unrelenting gaze of his master, his eyes large, frightened and embarrassing. The thrill of the pleasurable sensations that had been coursing through his young body now replaced with a gut-wrenching fear that robbed him of breath.

As he attempted to hide his erection, his emotions ran high, causing him to emit an unending stream of apologetic words. “I’m so sorry, master,” William spoke, his voice quivering with apprehension. He couldn’t maintain eye contact for long; instead, his gaze flickered about nervously. In an attempt to rectify the situation, he began hastily tucking himself back into his trousers while continuing to express his remorse. “Forgive me, masta, I didn’t mean...” His words trailed off as he struggled to find the right words.

John, still captivated by the sight of William’s manhood, couldn’t help but follow every movement of the slave’s trembling hands. As John stood motionless, his eyes transfixed upon the scene unfolding before him, William couldn’t stand the tension anymore. His fear for punishment taking over, he ran.

John’s thoughts continued to swirl as he tried to process what he had just seen. William’s attempt to apologize fell upon deaf ears, as he scrambled away through the foliage, seemingly afraid of what punishment would follow. John couldn’t believe what was happening. He had caught one of his slaves in such a private act, and now he was left alone with confusing arousal. His eyes followed William’s retreating form, taking in the strong back muscles and the tight, round buttocks beneath his worn clothing.

John found himself in an unexpected predicament as he suddenly became aware of the object of his desire being not a woman but a young man. He knew that pursuing such feelings would be considered unacceptable by society at large, yet despite these reservations, John couldn’t help but feel drawn to the idea of witnessing William complete what he had started. The thought of seeing the boy reach climax filled him with a sense of forbidden excitement, causing his heart to race at just the thought.

John returned to the grand plantation house, his mind consumed by the encounter he had just witnessed. He could hardly comprehend the salacious desires that had come to possess him, rendering him helpless against their command. The rules of decorum and decency had been twisted and turned in on themselves, replaced by the persistent hum of curiosity and want.

John knew that he couldn’t turn away from the floodgates he had opened—gates that led down a path of dark, taboo thoughts.

As the days passed, John found that the mere sight of William was enough to fuel his imagination. The firm curve of his buttocks, the broadness of his chest, and the grace of his movements stirred something deep within him. He couldn’t deny it any longer—he desired William.

Obtaining a glimpse of the slave boy’s naked body had awakened a dormant sexual curiosity within him. It was as if he opened a secret door that revealed the vast expanse of his own forbidden longings.

Longings he was utterly bewildered by, yet unable to push aside. Every glance William threw his way was filled with a deep-rooted fear, and it broke John’s heart knowing he was the cause of it. As much as he wanted to explore this newfound attraction, he couldn’t bear to see William so terrified and anxious.

John tried to convince himself that his fascination was nothing more than a simple passing curiosity. However, the intoxicating thoughts of William continued to brew and ferment in his mind. John kept telling himself that he shouldn’t, that it wasn’t right; but the more he fought these illicit feelings, the stronger they seemed to cling.

For days John tried to drive William out of his mind, but the young slave managed to creep back in, little by little, until he had once again tied himself in knots. Every night John would lay in bed, tormented by the taboo fantasies that had taken over his mind. He felt trapped, like a wild animal caged in a pen constructed from the relics of expectations, taboo, and societal norms. Yet, despite the turmoil he felt, John found himself unable to resist the lure of this forbidden path.

Each time he caught a glimpse of William, he remembered the sight of his hard, young body, naked and exposed, and he couldn’t help but respond. It was a struggle that he had never faced before, a fight against the dictates of society and his own mind.

Almost a week after his encounter with William, John found himself in his study, staring blindly at the pile of documents strewn across his mahogany desk. The plantation’s daily management no longer captured his attention. He couldn’t focus on anything but the intoxicating thoughts of William that lingered in his mind. This had become the new normal for him, a state of constant arousal and guilt. So far he had always managed to resist the temptation of giving in to his deepest desires, but he knew that the battle itself was taking its toll. He felt a magnetic pull towards the young slave that he could no longer ignore.

Finally succumbing to the urge that had been building up inside him, he summoned Sarah and requested her to send William to his study. It was an unusual request and the look on Sarah’s face showed it, but she didn’t question him, merely nodded and left to fetch William.

Left alone in the room, John’s heart pounded in his chest. He was anxious, unsure of what he was about to do. A thousand thoughts raced through his mind, leaving him conflicted about his actions. There was a sense of anticipation mixed with unease as John waited in his study. He questioned whether this decision was a monumental mistake, but interest and excitement spiked in his heart.

Finally he heard a timid knock on the door.

“Enter.” The command was simple and firm, yet tinged with uncertainty.

Sarah stood in the doorway with William hovering nervously behind her. William’s eyes were wide, seeming to plead with John for understanding, but also tainted with a flicker of fear.

“Thank you, Sarah,” John said, managing to sound composed despite the tumult he was experiencing internally. “Let him in and close the door behind you, will you?” John instructed in as calm a voice as he could muster, not wanting to betray the rush of adrenaline that surged through his veins.

William shuffled into the room nervously, the door clicking shut with a soft thud as Sarah left them alone in John’s expansive study. The room, with its floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, dark oak furniture, and warm aroma of beeswax candles, held an atmosphere of authority and power.

His eyes downcast, avoiding John’s gaze, William’s trembling hands gently fidgeted at his sides.

John could feel the intense anxiety emanating from the young man. It weighed down heavily, and he wished there were a way to ease the intense fear that gripped him. However, he knew the origin of this fear lay within him, and the only way to alleviate it was to confront the issue staring them both in the face.

John sat back in his cushioned leather chair, exhaling an intentionally audible breath that managed to cut through the atmosphere.

He studied William intently, taking in the beads of sweat that had formed on his brow - product of either trepidation or the crushing humidity, or perhaps a little bit of both.

“William, about last Sunday...” he began, as William flinched at the mention of the incident.

“I’m really sorry, masta. It won’t ever happen again, I swear,” William stammered, the fear for punishment evident in his voice.

“You’re not getting punished, William,” John interrupted, raising a hand to calm the young slave.

William raised his eyes to meet John’s, a spark of relief flickering in his dark gaze. But that haze of fear didn’t leave him entirely.

It lingered in his eyes, mixing with the curiosity and uncertainty. John couldn’t blame him - he felt the same jumble of emotions inside.

John studied him for a moment, taking in the somber line of his shoulders, the way his hands fiddled with the fabric of his worn trousers. John couldn’t help but notice the slight tremor in William’s fingers, a clear indication of the anxiety coursing through him.

Taking a deep breath, John decided it was time to address the proverbial elephant in the room. “William, I want you to know that I’m not angry about what I saw in the woods,” he began, speaking softly, carefully. He hoped to reassure William that there was no need for fear.

As John paused, not knowing how to continue, William blinked at him, uncertain of John’s intentions or the meaning behind his words. His dark eyes seemed hollow, filled with fear and confusion.

“I understand that I might have taken you by surprise in the woods,” John admitted, maintaining a gentle tone. He watched as William swallowed the lump in his throat, visibly uncomfortable but remaining silent. “But the thing is,” John continued, eyes fixed on William’s face, “it was not entirely unwelcome. And when you ran, I realized I was disappointed that you didn’t finish.”

William struggled to align the words tumbling from John’s mouth with the anger he had anticipated and the fear he felt. His heart throbbed, ratcheting up in his chest. William repeated hesitantly, attempting to make sense of the confounding situation unfolding before him.

“Masta, I don’t understand,” William murmured, vulnerability evident in his voice. The slave boy’s incomprehension was unsurprising. This conversation had likely never occurred between a master and his slave before.

Despite his earlier admission, John still struggled to continue. He took a deep breath and continued, “I want to watch you, William. Complete what you started that day.” This time the words flowed out of him more naturally, as if he could finally let go of the shame he’d been suppressing all this time.

“Masta?” William questioned after a momentary pause, in which a ripple of surprise crossed his chiseled features. The boy scratched the back of his head as he squirmed awkwardly.

William looked deeply into John’s eyes, searching for the slightest hint of deceit or malice. He couldn’t find any; instead, he found his master’s gaze to be genuine and nearly pleading. The sincerity was unmistakably clear.

A maelstrom of emotions whirled inside William, leaving him in a daze. How was he supposed to react to such a bizarre, unexpected request? No, demand. Though technically, John hadn’t forced him—not yet.

Guilt washed over William at the thought of giving into his master’s indecent request. He’d heard the whispers about masters taking advantage of slave women, but never had he imagined he’d be put in such a position.

William hesitated for a few seconds, trying to search his mind for an explanation, a way out, but none came to mind. He cast his gaze to the floor, shaking his head or giving some vague response that John couldn’t make out.

“William, look at me,” John said.

He complied, lifting his gaze to meet John’s.

“I-I don’t know what to do, masta,” the young slave stammered. His voice was low and unsteady, conveying awkwardness and reluctance. It was an uncomfortable situation for him to bear, and the slave had no idea how to free himself from it.

John studied William intently for a short moment, his gaze softening slightly. “Take off your clothes, William,” he said, his voice quiet, yet firm. A charged silence ensued. William swallowed hard, stiffening, and took in an audible breath. A telling expression of distress flashed across his face, and guilt flooded him.

After an eternity, William finally began to unfasten the buttons of his worn, faded shirt. His nimble fingers moved with increased difficulty as he tried to calm the frantic beating of his heart. His breath hitched as each button was freed from its hole, his nerves stretched like a tightrope between obedience and insubordination.

When the final button popped free, William peeled the garment off his shoulders with slow, deliberate movements. His gaze stayed fixed on the worn wooden floorboards beneath his bare feet, unable to meet John’s eyes. He hesitated for an eternal moment before letting the shirt slide down his arms and fall away from his body.

As Willam undressed, John’s eyes never left him. The young slave’s chest was smooth and firm, glistening lightly with a layer of sweat. John could see the rapid rise and fall of William’s chest as he struggled to control his breaths, the evidence of his fear and discomfort was palpable.

John’s gaze traveled lower, taking in the outline of William’s flat stomach, ridged with the scars of a difficult life, leading down to the worn trousers that barely contained his lower half. John could see the unmistakable bulge that had caused this whole encounter, and it brought a tingle of excitement to the pit of his belly.

William’s breath came in shallow gasps as he stood before John, his shirt pooled on the floor around his bare feet. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides, rolling into fists in a futile attempt to quell the anxiety tearing through his body.

“Keep going, William,” John said gently, choosing his words carefully. The last thing he wanted was to come across as too authoritative - he needed William to feel safe. He was sensitive to the power imbalance that had been present from the first moment they met, and now that it had shifted slightly, he didn’t want to jeopardize the fragile atmosphere in the room.

Slowly, William lifted his hands to push down his trousers, acquiescing to John’s request with agonizing slowness. The worn fabric slid down his legs, little by little revealing more of his manhood for John to see.