Jacob hands me the rope and I tie her left ankle to her left wrist and then proceed to tie her right ankle to her right wrist, and in order to spread her wide and stretch that black skin tight
This is my story, please give credit where credit is due.
Thank you and enjoy...I am thinking about writing more. Johncrinshaw1
October 19, 1861
Wilmington, North Carolina
Planter James Hopkins Plantation
Defiantly, she looks directly at me as if gauging my level of charge. Without even a sound she abruptly steps on the wagon rung and climbs in the seat next to Ed. Her posture straight and proud, as if mocking her newly acquired position of purchased property. My property, and I am damned if this will be allowed. Staring with her eyes facing forward, jaw set square, arms resting on her lap…my eyes travel to those perky nipples standing straight out in the cool morning air. So cool that goose bumps have formed over her surface layer of skin. Who does she think she is…This just wont do, to many people are watching this stunt, the Hopkins plantation has a reputation and anything that jeopardizes that immediately clouds my mood. With most of the eyes in the square watching in wonder and anticipating what will happen next, my rage rises and I find my hand entangled in her hair, pulling her forcefully out of the wagon seat and straight to the ground. “I said my name is Master Hopkins and that name commands respect around here.”
Grabbing her under the arm I half raise her to her feet and begin walking with her stumbling along beside me. Calling to the crowd, I shout, “someone get me a riding crop...we have a lesson to teach and a willing pupil.” A few cheers ring out as I turn in the direction of the hitching post near the blacksmith shop across the square. Ed is even struggling to keep up with us as he quickly jumps from the wagon seat. Jacob, the local blacksmith knew what was coming and came out of his shop with a few feet of chord. I met him at the post and dragging her around to face the crowd, I toss my new slave over the H rail, bending her over it at the waist. Jacob hands me the rope and I tie her left ankle to her left wrist and then proceed to tie her right ankle to her right wrist, and in order to spread her wide and stretch that black skin tight, I pull each leg towards the hitching rail posts where they enter the ground. Left side to left post and right side to right post. The hitching rail meets her right at her belly button. Restrained in this way completely folds her over the post, presenting her black ass to me in the perfect whipping position, tight and spread. A quick glance between her legs and I see very slight hint of pink showing as her splayed pussy lips peak out from behind her outer lips. Her face hangs toward the ground in resignation, but I want the lesson to be remembered.
I take another bit of cord from Jacob and tie her hair to it. Turning to Jacob, I instruct him to hold the loose end up and pull it tight, so that her face is forced to look into the crowd squarely. Taking one last glance to make sure everything is just right, I walk over and take a crop from one of the many offerings amongst the ever increasing number of people gathering around. Turning back, I catch her eye and in a loud meaningful voice holler “The Hopkins plantation commands respect in this county. Let it be known that this newly purchased slave has brought about this demonstration for you all because of her defying attitude and disrespectful actions. This is not intended to scar or maim her, for I plan on using her as a house slave, but this is meant to be a lesson to all, that any hostility presented towards myself, my property, or my staff will be punished in the way I deem as most fitting.” “I am going to put a little fire on her ass that will be remembered.” “Ed”, I call out...”you count the strokes aloud.” He responds with downcast eyes “Yes sir, Massa Hopkins, sir.” A few more steps in her direction put the crop within distance of her cheek. I lightly touch it to her right cheek and begin a slow teasing drag down under her ear, over the back of her neck, and on down past her shoulder. The tip continues to tantalizingly make its path down her chocolate form. From her shoulder, down her spine to the small of her back. Coming up over the beginnings of her round bottom the crop runs out of skin and I take up position behind her and quietly measure the distance.
Making sure Jacob is still holding his rope tight so that her face is presented to all, I pull my arm holding the crop back and forcefully let it fly forward. The swooshing sound of it slicing through the air stops abruptly upon contact of its target destination. A split second after the fire begins, my new slave starts a screeching sound that erupts into an ear splitting scream, reverberating off of the nearby buildings. Many in the crowd flitch at the thought of it all and I watch as a fine welt begins to bubble to the surface across both ass cheeks. A well place strip, I think to myself. After her piercing scream subsides and turns to gasps, Ed calls out “One, Massa Hopkins”. Bringing it back again, I let it slice in the air towards her, landing another strike near the same spot…and her agonizing voice lets loose again for all to hear. “Two, Massa Hopkins”, Ed recites. Taking pride in the newly formed second welt, I step away and begin another lecture, making sure to talk loud over her uncontrollable sobbing. “This unfortunate occurrence should have, and could have, been avoided. You see... I kindly introduced myself only to be treated with disdain. No wrong deed will go unpunished while under my house rules.” Stepping again to deliver another blow, she begins to beg…”I’s sorry Massa Hopkins….I’s sooo sooo sorry, ple... Whoosh, crack the crop strikes mid sentence turning what was forming as a please into another wail. “Three, Massa Hopkins”. Again my arm draws back; I look down and see wet spots in the dirt as the tears stream from her face and fall. Another outburst erupts as her face draws into a grimace and Ed calls, “Four, Massa Hopkins.” I look back to her ass and see a crisscross of stripes forming. Again, and again the riding crop lands and a new welt springs up in its place. She is a mixture of sobbing and wailing while Ed continues to call the strokes. “Five, Massa, six, seven, eight, nine, Massa Hopkins. With my arm tired, I let the last one fly with all the rest of my energy. My new slave nearly faints. “Ten”, Ed says. Keep her in position Jacob, I instruct.
“Now, everyone, look upon her, admire her spirit, do you see how a little persuasion can calm any situation?” Her face is streaked with tears, and dust attaches itself to the wet streaks left on her cheeks and chin. She looks a mess. While looking her square in the face and drawing near I continue, “Phibe, will be your plantation name. Do you understand what I am saying Phibe?” After a pause, I ask, “do I have to ask twice?” “No, No, No Massa Hopkins she squeaks, Phibe be my name now and I do what is asked… sir.” Jacob releases the rope that is tied to her hair and her head lowers to look at the dirt. “Good girl Phibe…it is too bad we started out this way.” The temptation is really too much so why not take advantage of her current situation. I reach under the rail she is bent over with my hands and to make a point pinch her hard black nipples making her gasp and wince in pain. Pulling them taught her breasts point out and without relaxing my grip I pull until they slip from my grasp, angry and hurting, giving Phibe one more thing to remember what brining on my wrath entails.
Moving back behind her I rub my hands over the 10 new lines located across her ass. Holding my finger up, I plunge it in one hard thrust deep into her pussy, causing a hiss to escape Phibe’s lips and her eyes to fly open wide. After a few moments of wiggling my finger around I yank it out and find it dry. My sinister thoughts cause me glee in knowing that this brought her no pleasure, she is dryer than a 70-year-old whore, so I believe the lesson was effective. Unfortunately for me, whipping her into a criss cross of welts, playing with her perky nipples, and feeling her tight pussy grip my finger has had the opposite effect on me and there is a definite stirring below my belt buckle. Turning to Ed, I tell him to help her to the back of the wagon and instruct him to give her a blanket. Jacob reclaims his ropes and I head over to the general store to gather a few supplies.
With the whimpering Phibe in the wagon, Ed drives it to the store to pick up my purchases. I climb up in the seat as the loading begins and after a short time, with all business finished; we head back to the plantation. Ed is sitting over there holding the reins steering the team while I take a peak in the back and see my new house slave curled up in the fetal position under the wool blanket resting. She is lucky I don’t tie her to the wagon with a leash and make her walk along behind.
The trip back is straightforward. Phibe sleeps most of the way under the blanket. That damn bridge over the stream crossing will have to be fixed in the next week or two, before the season rain comes upon us. Reaching into my vest pocket, I pull out my pocket watch and am surprised to find that even with all of the morning’s activities, I am about an hour ahead of schedule. Around the last corner and just as the morning is about to turn into afternoon, the plantation house comes into view.
It is as we are pulling up to the main house that I hear something in distress. Sounds, like one of the animals maybe, over near the stables. I step off the wagon and look around. The place looks mostly in order. The workers attending to the fields in the distance, the rest of the help seems to be involved in their early afternoon activities…. except the blacksmith area is empty. My thoughts begin to try and bring reason to the uneasiness that I am feeling. Ray could not have finished the axle hub that fast, and there are still some horses to be shod. His workload should have him at the anvil for most of the day. Again, a distressing wail erupts from somewhere near the stables. I tell Ed to have the kitchen staff help Phibe to her room and provide her with a bath and clean clothes. Peter rushes from the main door to begin carrying the supplies from the back of the wagon and I head at a brisk pace toward the noise near the stables. As I cover the distance the sound grows much louder. Rounding the corner of the stable to the tree lined shady side that faces the pond, my eyes fall upon Ray the blacksmith. The disbelief in what I see causes me to abruptly stop and it takes a moment of realization before my body responds to my will.