She didn't look so haughty and proud when she was strapped to the breeding table like any other slave
It was a sunny afternoon, well we don’t get much else in Jamaica. Except when we have a Hurricane or Tornado.
I was sitting on my porch using my spyglass to watch the sails of the ships sailing far away slowly slip below the horizon as they sailed towards old England which is where I longed to be.
We had been having do gooders come around complaining our treatment of our slaves was inhumane, but to be honest they didn’t know what they were talking about. They wanted the slaves freed but what would they do? Swim back to Africa where their grand folk came from, where folks spoke a different language and lived in mud huts not decent wood dormitories with weathertight tin roofs?
Where eating relied on someone spearing an antelope else they went hungry and where snakes and alligators, as well as Lions and Water Cows thretened life and limb on a daily basis.
That’s when Miss Kearsey rode up on her father’s white charger. It was far too much horse for her especially as she rode side saddle. She was a haughty bitch and if I’m honest Idisliked her on sight. We met at the Governor’s Christmas ball if I remember correctly, I believe I made some banal comment and she shunned me. Not something many women do I can assure you as I am regularly sought out by flirtatious fillies seeking a fortune, but my heart is in England and I have no desire to remain beyond the years end when I have arranged to sell rhe estate and depart for my beloved Manchester.
Miss Kearsey sprang from the charger, she hailed Godfrey my yardman to hold her horse and advanced upon me uninvited. Godfrey simply secured him to a fence and went back to sweeping, poor old chap, far too old for work in the field he did what he could. Some said he was the number one buck years ago, then charge hand and now he was living out his final years as yardman, and a huge number of young folk had his eyes and nose so maybe he had been number one Buck some years ago
“Mr Barnes” she announced.
I stood up then sat back down again, “Miss Kearsey,” I replied, “Has someone left your cage unlocked?”
“Less of your impertinence sir!” she snapped. Sweat ran down her neck, she was dressed for Marylebone in September not Jamaica, where our slaves male and female, habitually worked stripped to the waist in the summer and indeed in winter everything but during rain storms.
“Out unchaperoned Miss Kearsey, why what a fearless young lady you are!” I declared, “I suppose you sneaked out and stole your father’s horse in oreder to seduce me?”
“Absolutely Not!” she exclaimed, “I am here to protest the way you treat your slaves.” She blustered in her self important way.
“Well to be honest they are only mine because Uncle John left the plantation to me in his last will and testament,” I reminded her, “I have tried to be fair and equitable and,” I paused, “No doubt your father is away or he would have forbidden you to come.”
“He has no control over me, I am twenty one years, twenty two actually,” she replied.
“Except he clothes and feeds you, provides a roof over your head and a horse to ride and you want for nothing,” I reminded her, “As I do for my slaves.”
“That is not the point,” she insisted, “They toil in the blazuing sun for you.”
“And do you see guards or wire fences keeping them in?” I asked, “They may leave if they wish but don’t as any undocumented slave might be claimed by a much worse master.”
“That is barbaric, That they should be treated differently according to their race or colour?” she insisted.
“Yes but you mis quote the situation, the law makes no reference to race or colour,” I reminded her, “Undcoumented, unchaperoned, it could apply equally to you, I could claim you as an undocuented slave and pay your father for you if I were found out.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she replied.
“I am not ridiculous, and you young lady need a lesson, Godfrey send for the Blacksmith and the Buck we have a run away.”
“Yass sah,” Godfrey agreed and her shouted “Master wants Blackko and Big Buck right away.”
“Very funny,” she chortled.
I grasped her wrist. She slapped my face drawing blood with her long finger nails. I tightened my grip.
“Come,” I pulled her along, she demurred. It was futile. I was so much stronger. It was only a hundred yards to the workshop wherethe blacksmith tended his forge and a few more to the mens and womens dormitories and the parlour where big buck pleasured the ladies and broke in new girls.
Miss Kearsey was not impressed, “My father will have you thrown in jail for this,” she blustered as she struggled but I did not let it deter me as we approached the blacksmith’s shop.
“Wrist and ankle manacles please,” I announced, “We have a runaway from Lord Kearsey’s estate.”
The Blacksmith thought I was joking, Miss Kearsey thought I was joking. I was not, “I am not joking,” I explained. The Backsmith quickly found manacles and the soft iron rivets used to secure them.
I watched as Miss Kearsey slowly realised I was serious, so I let the implcations sink in as he checked her wrists for size and placed the iron around her left wrist and bent it into a circle with protruding flanges with holes to take the rivets.
I watched as his assistant held her wrist firmly guiding it towards the anvil as the blacksmith using a hollow rod as an extrnsion flattened the soft rivets with three or four mighty blows from his hammer.
What colour she had draibed from her face as first one and then the other wrist had manacles riveted around it and then it was her ankles, three assisants were required to subdue her and the manacles were secured over her stockings with nuts and bolts initially. Each manacle had a hole for a chain to be attached, I fastened a short chain between her wrists behind her back simply by slipping a hook through the holes and then it was just a case of a nice leather collar which someone would have to stitch in place. But that could wait.
Miss Kearsey was now incandescent with anger, her face alternately flushed red and then went ghostly white, as she cursed me.
Miss Kearsey really had no idea what was coming next as I pushed her towards the breeding shed.
She had no idea of breeding. Obviously slaves had needs so we accommodated them, and indeed employed a big buck especially for the purpose, a well fucked slave is a happy slave so a big burly well endowed buck was just the thing when we had around five times as many ladies as men, and Joshua was well endowed, his penis almost banged hos knees when flacid and stretched even the most prolific of child producing women’s parts to the utmost.
For my self my more modest member was rampant with the thoughs of what was to come, the moment she realised she was to be stripped naked and not gently but cut from her coccoon with my dagger until the cloth fell uselessly to the ground leaving her wriggling like a pink kaggot ready for skewering on a fishing hook or rather a black monster cock.
God would she wail as he tore her maiden head and planted his african seed deep inside her, i would absolutely serve her right and I should have her seeded every day until she was caught and well with child, why I might even help start her milk by suckling her tits if no one came to claim her.
The bed in the breeding shed was well worn, the soft brown leather was scuffed in places, I say bed, it was a short bed and angled up at half a right angle starting at waist height so the legs dangled yet the cunt was kept at a convenient height for the Buck to stand and mount her. the angle being the same as his erect cock and the woman secured by her wrists above her head a stout strap around her waist and footplates which fell under her feet as she was secured with her ankles spread wide.
She squealed as she was shown the breeding shed, she took in the bed, she saw our buck take off his weighted loin cloth allowing his cock to erect it looked to be at least half a yard long, but was more like fourteen inches and greater in girth than my forearm.
“Stop, have you gone mad!” she screamed at me.
“No, I am just educating you,” I said “Now keep very still.” She saw the dagger, she gasped and then I slid it down against the back of her neck and pulled it down against her neck cutting the layers of thin fabric.
“Dear God no” she wailed as the fabric parted yet hung on her arms and could not fall. I reached down between her arms held as they were behind her until I reached her ass crack. Still the fabric remained stubbornly around her mounds so I withdrew the dagger[and instead hacked through the sleeves first on and then the other.
Finally the ruined fabric fell, from buttonned to the neck to bare to the waist in a matter of seconds until she stood with her bare tits proud and perky, her nipples already erect,
Then back to the skirts pulling down and cutting free I bared her backside and wrenched down ger stockings cutting them above the manacle. She tried to kick so I connected short chain between her ankles to subdue her. I left he shoes for now and with every other shred of clothing removed I moved her to the breeding bed. I had to release her wrists so they could be secured above her head, Willing black hands assisted. The thick belt secured her waist her ankle chains were swapped for separate chains linking each ankle to it’s footstep.
I made sure the wedges were set correctly, her legs were not spread sufficiently, I had the footsteps repositioned and then I tried to see if she were pure. A stream of hot piss hit me in the face. “Shave the bitch” I ordered “And drain the bloody piss out of her!”
I went to the house and changed my shirt washed my face and also washed my cock which well erect and leaking pre cum.
I returned to find her well shaved and her cunt well displayed for inspection. It transpired that my workers had applied pressure to her abdomen and had thus drained her bladder thus making inspection of the cuntal region less dangerous.
She cursed as I opened her cunt lips and she tried to piss at me again. There was nothing else she could do, but there was barely a dribble.
“A little gold ring would be nice,” I observed as I squeezed her clit making it rear in excitement. I checked her hymen it was perfect, it was so sad a woman denied to chance to relieve herself by stupid social taboos. My thumb made short work of it she bled slightly and screamed theatrically.
The commotion brought slaves and workers from all around to see the show. They clustered round jostling for the best view.
A few moments later the blacksmith was back, he had a blow lamp and a long needle. I let him skewer her clitoris and no sooner had the stench of burning dispersed than he had made a ring from solid gold wire but had also silver soldered the ends into a perfect circle.
“Right Big Buck, show her some joy!” I ordered.
He demurred. “Sorry boss, I’ll do her an injury, You should be her first she don’t like us folk.”
“God damnit Joshua, I do believe you are right,” I agreed “Lower the bed a tad on the wedges I’m a tad shorter than you.”
I dropped my shorts and stepped out of them I hadn’t bothered with a shirt so I was naked save my ankle socks and boots matching Miss Kearsley who was also bare bar her shoes and cut off stockings.
Her cunt was too dry, I spat on my fingers and started to work them inside her one, two then three, it was hard work but when Joshua handed me his water bottle filled with Lemon water I was well able to provide spittle to suffice and ere long cunt juices also flowed
“You might as well ring her teats while we’re waiting,” I ordered the blacksmith. Once again he heated the needle and as she screamed he pushed it through her left nipple.
I watched as he quickly followed with gold wire through the same wound and curled it into a perfect circle before applying silver solder with a soldering iron while his assistant manipulated pliers to take away the excess heat and when that was done he did the right nipple as well.
She looked perfect save one thing, her neatly coiffured hair, “Fetch some shears,” I ordered
Shears were produced instantly and I started to cut her long auburn hair
“Not my hair, oh dear god will you leave me nothing?” she pleaded
I left a few inches of uneven ragged growth.
“I shall give more than I take away my dear Miss Kearsley,” I promised “For I shall take you to heaven.” and with that I stood before her dipped slightly and eased my cock between her cunt lips gently then with increasing pressure I parted her internal canal easing towards her womb which despite her denials I knew was craving my seed.
So long without relief someone should have ruined her years before and allowed her the relief her fingers or her maids tongue, or even if tales are to be believed her puppy dogs tongue or worse can bring but no and now it was left to I to release her from the tyranny of virginity.
Slowly patiently I spread that tunnel one thrust at a time, each thrust meant a new scream or new curse but it was easier now, her juices were flowing, her gasps were less controlled my cock moved easily and as my balls slapped her crotch my helmet found the neck to her womb.
“Oh good god no!” she screamed as her orgasm hit her, she shuddered uncontrollably. I held on, thinking desperately of old Blighty while it passed and then decided as my own time was coming I would deliver a fitting coup de gras. I pounded her with everything I had and as I reached the very pinnacle so in that same instant Miss Kearsley reached her moment and for an age we were one single being and in that very moment a child was conceived.
I of course continued to pleasure her for some minutes before expelling anew and deciding it was time to eat.
I pulled out, found my shorts and walked away, “She’s all yours boys.” I declared as I left.
They had never had a white woman before, I did some paperwork and went to bed around ten of the clock and sounds of whooping and Miss Kearsley wailing and cursing were so annoying me that I had to close my window despite the stifling heat. I dreamed of her in the night, indeed I shot my bolt while sleeping.
Next day there was a queue of men waiting patiently to fuck her. I had one of the woen stitch a leather collar around Miss Kearsley’s neck while she was being fucked and also had food and drink sent which she soon learned she could consume during intercourse.
It took about three days for the novelty to wear off. The last worker pulled out as I watched.
“Happy now?” I asked.
“I hate you” she said
“No you don’t” I countered “Do you still feel all people should be treated alike irrespective of colour?” I asked.
“If I say yes you’ll leave me here as a whore for all these men won’t you?” she challenged
“Good lord no,” I countered, “I’ll put you to work in the cotton fields, the men are bored of fucking you, and the women hate all the attention you had, you were just a novelty act.”
“I don’t know, I wanted them to be like me not me to be like them” she explained “And they just fucked me like a piece of meat, at least you tried to be gentle at first.”
“Do you need cock again?” I asked
“My thingy with the ring is tormenting me,” she said, “Can you take it out if I go cane cutting please.”
“How about if I fuck you instead?” I asked.
“If I say yes will you remove the ring?” she tried.
“No but I’ll fuck you anyway,” I threatened
“Yes, I can’t stand the throbbing,” she admitted.
“Are you saying you want me to fuck you Miss Kearsley” I queried.
“Yes, I want you to fuck me,” she said “Happy now?”
“Not as happy as I’ll be when ball deep inside you” I replied.
“Ball deep, I’m so stretched you could get a grand pianoforte up between my legs so the pleasure may be all mine” she declared.
I adjusted the wedges dropped my shorts and speared her in a single movement and I grasped her cheeks and kissed her lips. “I do believe we made a baby that first time” I whispered.
“So do I” she agreed, “So stop talking and take me to heaven again."