The Masters of Willowhurst - Part I

by Gideon Rathbone

  "You best get back to your cabin," I grinned up at him. "You've got a long day tomorrow."

  He laughed a bit and kissed me again before clambering down from the hayloft. Taking the lantern with him, I was left naked, sweaty, and alone in the dark. I touched the fluid on my thighs and began playing with myself, wishing that it was Isaac's cum that was oozing out of me instead of Cassius'. I had never seen our new servant naked but my imagination filled in the gaps. I was pretty certain that Isaac's chest, stomach, and cock were all perfect. I ran these thoughts over and over in my mind until I reached the peak of ecstasy. I busted one so hard that the aftermath of it left me weak and dizzy. I hadn’t realized that I had fallen asleep until I was awakened by the rays of the morning sun hitting me in the face through the cracks of the barn. I threw on my nightshirt and blissfully made my way back towards the house. It was a new day, a new start.

  Chapter Three

  Over the next couple of months, I tried my best to get Isaac to see reason. A week after I blew up at him I apologized and told him that it wouldn't happen again. He nodded, accepting my atonement but I could tell that he didn't believe it. I gave him his space and waited a few weeks before I started talking to him casually again. I wanted Isaac to see that I wasn't a bad man and I meant him no harm. I wanted him to see why I couldn't grant him the wish that he desired. My cordiality still didn't cut any ice with him. I offered to make him majordomo of Willowhurst and he politely turned me down. I offered to give him reign to roam about on Saturdays. He politely turned me down. I went as far as gifting him a silver pocket watch for which he thanked me warmly but still politely turned me down.

  I was reaching my wit's end. With every denial I'd go to Cassius, hoping his cock would fuck some sense into me. After a while, sex with him no longer satisfied me. Lying with Cassius was like putting on a pair of old shoes. Somewhere along the line things had lost their magic. The thought of Isaac consumed me. He haunted my dreams, my cock harder than iron when I would awake. I would then try to take care of myself but that did less for me than with being with Cassius. Loretta noticed my detachment and made a pathetic attempt to connect with me but I told her it was nothing. Something had to be done. I didn't want to force Isaac but bit by bit he was pushing me to the edge.

  When my father died that autumn, it was a shock. He had been sick for months and such a thing was expected. Nevertheless, when it happened it knocked the wind out of me. The doctor claimed that it was consumption that finished him off. I mourned that man more than I thought I would. For all his abrasiveness and narrow-mindedness, I still loved Papa deeply. He had always seemed like one of those large oak trees that would always survive the storm, tough, defiant, and indomitable.

  I retreated into myself and drank more than I wished to admit. Loretta, of course, tried to comfort me in her own way. I appreciated the concern but I wanted her to leave me alone. I wanted Isaac. He had given me his condolences but I wanted more. I wanted to be a baby again. Just once more. I needed him to wrap those strong arms of his around me and let me cry into his shoulder. I needed him to let me rest my head in his lap while he told me that everything was going to be alright. But that didn't happen. I had no choice but to endure my melancholy like a man. I thought about going to Cassius and letting him have his way with me for the umpteenth time. That wouldn't do it. Not now. Not with this.

  I forced myself to accept that Isaac and I were never going to happen. It was a bitter pill to swallow but I managed to do it. That all came undone when I saw him and the plantation's blacksmith, Jodie, talking. They were behaving friendlier than I could stomach and finally I lost all my senses when I saw Isaac stroke that dirty son of a bitch's face. It was like a keg of gunpowder had gone off in me. I stomped away from this irritating sight and told one of the other house slaves to send Isaac to my bedroom.

  I stormed into my room and retrieved a riding crop from the chifferobe. Taking a seat, I stared at the door impatiently while I poured glass after glass of port. This was it. If he wasn't going to give it to me freely, I'd beat it out of him. Minutes later he finally walked in with a concerned expression on his face.

  "Yes, sir?"

  I glared at him. His demeanor went from concerned to scared.

  "Who the fuck do you think you are?" I snarled, downing my seventh or eighth glass of liquor.

  "Pardon, Master?"

  "I've seen you with that blacksmith," I went on, my speech somewhat slurred. "So don't play dumb with me."

  He looked at the floor.

  "You and I are cut from the same cloth. We have the same tastes. The same desires. We crave the same kind of flesh."

  Isaac kept his eyes on the floor. His lack of denial irritated me even more. If he had denied it I could've easily argued him down, have some kind of means to release my rage but he wouldn't give me the satisfaction. Damn him!

  "Why do you deny me what you give to that blacksmith so freely?" I asked.

  His gaze remained on the floor.

  "ANSWER ME!"

  "I can't, sir. I can't."

  I glared again. "You continue to torture me because I won't give you what you want."

  "It has never been my mission to cause you any harm, Master."

  "I'm sure it hasn't," I spat out, not believing a word of it. "What is it? Do you not like me? Haven't I tried to show you the most absolute kindness?"

  "Yes, you have, sir. I like you very much, sir."

  "Then why are you doing this?" I was practically pleading with him.

  "I'm sorry, sir, but I don't know what I've done."

  I hated him at that point. Everything about him, I hated. He doesn't know what he's done?! Couldn't he see how much he had destroyed me?! For the first time, I felt as if he were the master and I was the slave.

  "Take off your clothes," I said.

  "Pardon, sir?"

  "Strip, I say!"

  Pensively, Isaac obeyed. My heart quickened at the sight of his torso. It wasn't beefy and dominating like Cassius' but slightly slender. Thankfully, it didn't detract from his muscles. His stomach was flat, with just a hint of his abs apparent. He undid his trousers and I beheld the magnificence of his cock. It wasn't as long as Cassius', maybe an inch and a half shorter, but what it lacked in length it made up for in girth. It was thick and meaty.

  Once he was naked, I made my way over to him. My hands trembled as I touched his chest, running them gently across his shoulders. The excitement built in my stomach.

  "You're now going to fuck me," I said, bluntly. I was already hard. I was more than ready for this. I had waited long enough. "You're going to fuck me and you're going to surrender that hot white milk you seem determined to deny me."

  I kissed his neck and then wrapped my arms around him. His body was so perfect. His skin, so smooth, reminded me of coffee. The next thing I knew my lips were pressed against his. My cock jumped in anticipation at what was about to come but something was wrong. Something wasn't right. It was then when it hit me that he wasn't kissing back. I pulled away and looked at Isaac. He was as still and as unmoving as stone. Disappointment swept over me. I couldn't do this. Sure, what I had in my arms was flesh and bone but I couldn't make love to him like this. Not with him being like a statue. It would be crossing a line that I swore I wouldn't if I forced him. Frustration and grief had turned almost turned me into a person that I didn't want to be. Tears suddenly flooded my eyes.

  "I'm sorry," I told him, making sure that he didn't see me cry. "I'm really sorry, Isaac."

  I wiped my face and saw that his gaze had descended to the floor. It seemed that he was sorry as well. For whatever reason, I couldn't understand.

  "You can go back to your chores."

  He quietly redressed and left without saying a word. I helped myself to a couple more glasses of port, wanting to get stinking drunk. Once I finished off the liquor, I instructed one of the servants to have my horse saddled and I rode out into the north pasture.

  "Master?" Cassius had been on his hor
se surveying the work that was being done. "Master Talbot, are you alright?"

  I must've looked like hell.

  "I'm gonna need you tonight. More than I ever have."

  He nodded. "Of course, sir."

  I looked out upon the workers. A tall statuesque buck was among them. He was stripped to the waist, his lean body glistening with sweat."

  "Who's he?" I asked.

  "That's Mason, Master. Your pa had bought him just last month from the Tatums."

  "Have him come with you. Tell him I'll make it worth his while."

  Chapter Four

  "Talbot," said Loretta, her voice practically a whisper. "Talbot, is something wrong, dear?"

  I looked up and saw her gazing across the table at me. Thus far, our dinner had been in its usual silence. I wondered why she was asking me such a question. Was I behaving different? Did I have a certain look on my face? I shook my head at her.

  "No, everything is fine."

  "Really? You just seem more distracted this evening than you have been. You haven't touched your food."

  "It's just the usual things," I said, hoping that she would just shut up already.

  "I know it's going to take some time for you to get over your father's-"

  "That's none of your business." I didn't yell. I just calmly cut her off.

  My wife cleared her throat. "I'm sorry, dear."

  "I know you're trying to help, Loretta," I said, feeling a tinge of remorse. "I just need time, alright?"

  She nodded and I thought she would remain quiet after that, but I was disappointed.

  "You know, your father always wanted a grandson and we haven't been together as man and wife since New Orleans. I was hoping you'd come to me tonight."

  Internally, I cringed. Irritation overtook me but I managed to keep my temper at bay. I wanted to shout at her. I wanted to scream in her face that I wouldn't touch her again if she paid me. I knew that would've been too harsh. It wasn't her fault that she was boring or that I had no interest in her. I had to spare her feelings.

  "Not tonight, dear," I smiled at her. "Perhaps tomorrow. I'm just not up to it this evening."

  The light from the barn glowed brightly, showing me the way across the darkened field. As I entered, to my satisfaction, Cassius and Mason stood talking inside. Their conversation ended when they saw me.

  "Did you tell him?" I asked Cassius.

  "He knows, sir."

  I turned to Mason and he smiled. "I rather be with the blacksmith," he said. "I learned plenty of that over at Master Tatum's."

  "Then that's what you'll do," I smirked, stuffing a hand down his trousers.

  He kissed me and I wrapped my arms around his neck. Cassius stepped behind me and removed my nightshirt and his lips found my throat. We soon moved the party into the hayloft where we satiated in our carnal delights. Mason's cock was just as long as Cassius' but thicker. I moaned as he pushed himself into me. My mouth wrapped around Cassius’s dick as Mason plowed my ass at an achingly slow pace. He was doing a good job but his stride was too gentle, too merciful. I was hungry for him to hammer my hole. I wrapped my legs about Mason's waist, encouraging him to fuck me deeper.

  "Punish me," I whimpered. "Own me! Destroy me! Make me pay!"

  Mason's stride accelerated. His gentle movements became brutal and savage. I bit my lip. The sound of moaning and his skin slapping mine filled the air. I felt it as Cassius ran a hand down my chest and pinched a nipple. I didn't dare allow his cock to leave my mouth. I jerked and sucked hard. He was going to explode by the time I was done with him. A jolt of exhilaration shot through my body, making it hard to focus. Mason was hitting that intimate place inside me just so. I stroked my cock with my other hand, knowing that a torrent of pleasure was headed my way.

  "Oh Lord!"

  "Don't hold back! DON'T HOLD BACK!" I hissed. "Give me your seed! Come in me!"

  Mason hollered as I felt his cock flood my ass with his juices, his face a distortion of pleasure and delicious anguish. His comrade pulled his manhood out of my mouth and violently started to jerk himself off. Exploding over my face and chest, he christened me with his semen. I continued to work my own cock until I too erupted all over myself, my fluids mingling with Cassius'.

  "You did good, Mason," I said stroking his muscular thigh. "You fuck like a champion."

  He smirked at me, proud that he had pleased me. I complimented them both on their lovemaking skills and then told them to head back to their cabins. They had earned a decent night’s sleep. After they were gone, I wiped the ejaculate from my face and sighed. The sex had been hotter than hell but not entirely satisfying. It wasn't enough. I was still miserable. It didn’t matter how many times Cassius or anybody else fucked me. It wasn't Isaac. That's when it hit me. I was in love with him. Never before had I made such a fool of myself over anyone. It took me a minute to accept the fact but when I did I burst into tears. I was in love with Isaac but he didn't love me back. He couldn't. Not after all I had done. For the first time, I felt very much unloved and it was something that I would just have to bear.

  I could've easily sold him. I could've convinced myself that he had been insolent and took my revenge. I couldn't. He hadn't done anything wrong. I did. If I truly loved him I wouldn't put him through anymore of my torment. He couldn't remain at Willowhurst, so there was only one option. I would have to give him what he wanted. I would give him his freedom.