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Another Time and Place

09/24/2024

Elize McCoy sat at the breakfast table playing with her sausage and eggs and trying to listen to her father who was going on about marriage. “But I have a whole year, Daddy. I’m only fifteen you know?”

He smiled and lit his first cigar of the day. “True, true, but remember you are promised, promised since you were two.”

The pretty blonde girl made a sour face. “But Daddy, Philip is such a, a prig. Isn’t that the word? He’s no fun at all, won’t even dance or anything. And he goes to that hardcore church, that fire and hellstone preacher.”

He chuckled. “He may be a dolt, suspect he is, but his family and ours need this wedding, this union. His tractor business and our cars are a fine match, make us number one in the Confederation; boy’s worth millions y’know.”

“We’re rich enough, Daddy. Aren’t we?”

“I suppose, but old Ralph admires you. Spect he’d like to have you in his own bed, crowded though it might be. Fact is, m’dear, once you are in his family, I expect you to be a good wife, and if your dear father- in-law wants to mount your lilywhite body, you’ll welcome him with open legs. Y’hear? He might get a child on ya while his fat son just plays with your titties.” He looked stern, something he found hard to do with his lovely child, his only child. His fashion- model wife, who he knew was up in her room with one of her young studs, absolutely refused to bear another.

“I’m going to the park with some of my friends; won’t be home for lunch.” She kissed his stubbled cheek and fled, her short skirt fluttering about her long legs, her young vulva pulsing, eager for sex. In the driveway she jumped into her royal-blue Jebster, the new sports coupe her father’s company had recently debuted and scattered gravel as she roared away.

It was not friends she sought or intended to play with, and she grinned as she floored the powerful car and raced toward the big stud farm in the outskirts of Richmond. Elize, like her mother and most of her female cousins, had a running account with Stanley’s Studs and were able to satisfy themselves whenever and wherever they chose. The girl had been using the bound boys since she was twelve and seldom went through a summer week with romping with one or more of the well- hung young men whose job it was to please, serve and satisfy wealthy women and a few rich men.

As she reached the county road and retracted the roof, Elize wondered again about the world she lived in, the world of privilege for a very few and toil and restraint for the many who served them.

By the time she was born, the blacks had almost disappeared from the Confederate States, at least in name and obviousness, many shipped back to Africa or to Brazil, more than a hundred thousand slaughtered in the mutiny or uprising of 1900, although numerous mulattos still served in various capacities, mostly sexual. In fact some of the most beautiful women on the salacious television programs were at least part African.

Above the scattered progeny of former slaves and masters were the bound men and women, a serf-like multitude who were Scot-Irish or German for the most part, and by law and contract, forced to serve various masters for a set number of years, usually seven to ten. Most were young and in fact, when she thought of it, Elize wondered why there were not white-haired bonded people. She did not know about the termination laws although she was aware of the crematorium on the distant hillside that smoked night and day. By law, when a member of the servant class was no longer useful, he or she was painlessly euthanized.

There were, she knew, white people like herself who were not wealthy and could not vote, men and women such as doctors and teachers, who served the ruling class in various worthy capacities and who were rewarded for their work and allowed to breed more or less freely. Some of them were quite elderly. The girl frowned as she reached the long driveway and pulled into the parking area, jumped out and ran toward the big barn.

Her people and people like them were at the top, they ran the country’s enterprises and ruled it as well, had for more than a century, since the end of the War Between the States. At least the men did. Women were cherished but they neither voted nor held elected office.

President Wilbur Philipson, now in the eighth year of his ten-year term, was a friend of the family and often dined with the McCoys at their palatial home high above the James River. Her multi-millionaire father was a senator although he seldom attended sessions unless a vote was scheduled.

Buck Stanley saw the lithe girl trotting across the lawn and felt his cock stir. She was one of the prettiest of the snotty bunch his boys served, and he had often plotted ways to get her alone and have her pale body for himself when she was high on one of the soporific drugs, but she ignored him with haughty glances despite the fact that his family was at least as high-ranking as hers, just not as rich.

“Hi Buck,” Elize chirped, giving him a friendly hug and a nuzzle, letting her globular breast almost fall from her loose-fitting blouse, “how `bout fetching me a boy to play with, say that Robert Twelve I saw last time. He was right good.”

“Fraid not, pretty thing, Bobby’s off working in Petersburg t’day, doing a bunch of them book reading ladies.”

“Shoot,” she said with a pout, “aw’right, who’s next, who’s on deck as they say?”

“Got a real young one for you, sweetie, only fourteen this boy is, just broke in so I’d like to know how he does when y’all are done, if you don’ mind.”

She smiled and nodded. “Fourteen? Does he shave?”

They laughed together and a door opened and the lean boy appeared, wearing the usual t-shirt and jeans, a sensor on his left ankle. All the boys and men who worked as studs had been neutered, some with chemicals but most by vasectomy, and all were famously endowed; seven inches was guaranteed by the firm.

“Lord,” Eliza said, “ain’ much of him is there. Might break him if I’m not careful.”

“Have fun,” Buck said, squirming as he tried to adjust his trousers.

The bound boy took Elize by the hand and led her out to one of the grassy play areas behind the barn and within a hedge of bushes. His parents had hired him out to the Stanley firm, bound him by contract for ten years, and agreed to have hm operated on with the agreement that the treatment could possibly be reversed. It seldom was. Most of Stanley’s studs died in the saddle or were so diseased that they were terminated before their years of service were over.

Wordlessly, they stripped each other in the bright sunshine, and the girl was very pleased to see that the skinny boy was indeed very well endowed; in fact his dangling pecker frightened her just a bit. She had enjoyed several young men who sported seven-inchers, just as Stanley advertised, “at least a stiff seven for you” the ads proclaimed. And last week, with the boy who was now in Richmond, she had her first eight- inch cock and screamed with delight when he repeatedly lifted her on it. But this youngster, this 14-year-old had a long, slim member that might be longer than that once it got fully excited. Elize stroked his slim penis as he bent to lick her hard nipples.

Jimmy, as the boy was called, was new to this work. He had gone through a six-week training regimen and had mounted several women, but this girl was different. She was beautiful and she was more or less his age. He licked and sucked her tits and then kissed his way down her lithe body, kneading her firm buttocks as he did so, and buried his face between her legs, probing and sucking as he had been taught until she squealed and pushed him away.

By then his long prick was fully aroused and arched up, nearly ten inches long and as thick as the handle of a baseball bat. The girl turned around, dropped to the padded mat, raised her ass and the boy stroked her bulging slit and then pushed his stiff rod into her. She wiggled and gasped as he penetrated and then held her at the waist as he drove it into the hilt, to the balls.

“More, more,” the girl gasped as he began, “harder, deeper!”

Jimmy grabbed her long hair and arched her body as he hammered away with short, vicious thrusts and then he felt his testicles surge and the flow of semen in his cock. He trembled with fear as well as lust.

He came, gritting his teeth to keep from crying out, pumped hard and shivered with pleasure as he pistoned out his semen. The girl’s head dropped, but he grasped her at the shoulders and get right back into rhythm, humping steadily at marching pace just as he had been taught.

Elize was on the point of achieving her third orgasm when the young man hammering his long ram into her suddenly stopped, grunted and collapsed on her.

She wiggled away, kicked his shouder and said, “What’s wrong, boy. Get back to work.”

His briefly blood-starved brain recovered, and he swam back to consciousness. Buck Stanley who had been watching the action on his closed-circuit TV and jerking off his cock while he did, zipped up his britches and ran out to the place where the boy was on his hands and knees, head drooping and the girl was kicking him in the ribs.

“What happened?” he asked her, not wanting to say he had seen the young man go stiff before he fainted.

“Damn if I know,” she said. “He jus’ quit on me.”

Smiling, Buck pulled his Tredegar automatic and fired two heavy slugs into the back of the boy’s head. Blood spurted as he pushed the shocked girl back to the soft lounge, freed his raging cock and mounted her, still fully clothed. Elize screamed and screamed as she was raped.

Buck’s manhood was thick and hard and his style was vicious and mean. He satisfied himself in five minutes and then dragged the mewling girl back to the barn and gave her to the man in charge of the wholesale sluts.

“Aw’right Jethro,” he snarled, “I want you to dye her hair and ship her off to N’Orleans with the next batch, y’hear?”

The man, who was well aware of who the girl was, nodded. “Y’can use her and share her, but don’ you let her get loose.”

“Yessir,” the man said, licking his lips as he grasped the girl’s wrist and pulled her to him. He patted her butt and said, “Come along, Honey, we’s gonna have some fun.”

Buck drove the roadster back behind the barn and had his mechanics disassemble the car. The engine and wheels went to one scrap dealer and the frame and body panels to another.

***

The headquarters tower of Jackson Motors was near the sprawling assembly plant on the road to Petersburg. The tower held the design, engineering, manufacturing, sales and business executives and their staff as well as dozens of young females who served the men who worked there. Each top executive had his own PA or mistress and there was a pool of well-trained girls shared by the others.

Jonathan McCoy entered his suite of offices at about ten that morning, ensconced himself in his huge, leather chair and welcomed Lucille, his current PA, with a smile and open legs as he got ready for a busy day. The lovely young woman put down his cup of coffee and sticky donut and knelt to service his cock with her mouth, throat and his testicles with her fingers tips. McCoy closed his eyes when he came, both hands buried in his girl’s curly hair. She licked him clean and left quickly as he turned to look at his schedule.

After a morning meeting about the new mid-engined sports car’s design, McCoy was thinking about whether to horse one of the new hires before or after lunch when his phone buzzed.

A strange voice said, “You want to know where yer kid’s at, you gotta pay me ten thousand in gold. Today. Interested?”

“No,” he said loudly and hung up. Then he wondered how someone outside had known his private number. The phone rang again.

“Now it will cost you twenty, twenty thousand, and I mean now or it’s goodbye Elize; you’ll never see her again in this life.”

McCoy said, “I’ll listen.”

Jethro Stevens smiled. He was sick of working for the Stanleys and sick of being treated like a bondsman. The girl was now in the stocks and two of his boys were using her, one in her mouth and the other sodomizing the youngster. The room was filled with the sound of grunting and flesh smacking together.

“How do I know you’ve got her?” McCoy asked, remembering that there had been several high-priced kidnappings recently, in the last few years.

Jethro took his phone to the wooden stocks, pushed the man away from her face and said, “Say hello to your Daddy, slut.”

He held the phone out and Elize spat and said, “Help me, Daddy, please help me I’m at…”

“Satisfied. Twenty thousand at noon downtown at Security Trust. I’ll send a messenger. He’ll be wearing a blue cap.”

Another of his boys stepped up to use Elize’s face as Jethro listened to the man hem and haw.

“Listen McCoy,” Jethro said loudly, “last chance or I ship her to the Magruders in New Orleans.” He named the most famous brothel operator in the Confederacy.

“You know what twenty thousand in gold weighs?” McCoy asked.

“I’ll take it in certificates,” Jethro said with a smile as the man horsing the girl’s ass pulled out of her and slapped her buttocks hard.

“Right, noon, blue hat,” McCoy said and hung up. He quickly summoned his security chief and outlined the problem. Together they set up a plan to follow the messenger and find the girl.

After he climaxed in the girl, Jethro freed Elize from the stocks and walked her down to the dock, ignoring her tears and pleading. He pushed her out to the end, lifted her chin and cut her throat. He dropped her body into the fast flowing stream, rinsed the wide blade and went back to dress for the money pick up.