The Plantation Pt. 01

tagIncest/TabooThe Plantation Pt. 01

1854
Twelve year old Rachel Claiborne had sneaked out of the big house and run toward the slave cabins. She was careful not to let anyone see her because she wasn't allowed to get out of the yard and she certainly wasn't allowed to go near the slave cabins. Occasionally, especially when she was younger, she and the slave children were permitted to play together in the yard or on one of the big porches. As the black children got older, however, they were expected to work all day, either in the fields or with various chores in the big house.
Rachel was hoping to find her favorite playmate, Charles, a slave boy only a few months older than her. He usually worked around the house, but lately had been required to accompany the other slaves to the huge cotton fields. When he had worked at the big house, they often found time to be alone if Rachel's father, Thomas Claiborne, was away from the plantation on business. Her mother, Verina, was a beautiful, but sickly woman who spent several hours a day in bed. This gave Rachel and Charles time to play together if they were careful to stay out of sight of the other house slaves, particularly the cook, Jemima.
Rachel's 15 year old brother, Robert, was ambivalent. He had observed how the slaves were treated and wondered about the institution of slavery. He often heard his father discussing the issue with other plantation owners who sometimes came to call. He was aware that there was political unrest throughout the nation and that there was even talk of the southern states forming their own country. He had asked his tutor, Mr. Granderson, what he thought about the issue. Mr. Granderson told him that issues larger than slavery were the issue, that the Constitution of the United States guaranteed the individual states to govern themselves and to make their own decisions about most issues, including slavery. No state or group of states had the right make laws for other states. He opined that slavery would eventually die out. Only a small percentage of southerners even owned slaves. But, said Mr. Granderson, allowing abolishment of slavery would open the floodgate for the federal government to take away more states' rights by passing legislation that might benefit some states and hurt others.
When Rachel had showed Charles a book that her father had given her for Christmas a few years previously, she had been distraught that Charles could not read. Not a word. He was embarrassed, but told her that none of the slaves could read. Furthermore, it was prohibited for them to learn. Rachel started teaching Charles the alphabet – he called them his "letters", intending to then try to teach him to read. Even though she never breathed a word of this to anyone, Jemima had caught young Charles reciting his letters and had reported it to Verina. Verina had severely warned Rachel that she was putting the boy in severe danger of a whipping by her father. Rachel had seen the results of a slave whipping. They carried the scars for the rest of their lives. She couldn't imagine a grown man, probably the overseer, whipping her young friend. When she and Charles had privacy, she warned him that it had to be their secret and that nobody else could know.
Charles was eager, however, to learn to read. Rachel was just as eager to teach him. Even though she had always lived on the plantation and had always been waited on hand and foot by black slaves, she didn't think it was right. How could a human own another human? She tried talking to her father about it. He laughed at her and told her that she had no idea how the world worked and that white folks were naturally superior in intellect to blacks. Blacks, however, were created to be able to work in the hot sun. They didn't have enough sense to be able to take care of themselves. They were, more or less, animals. Rachel became more determined than ever to teach Charles everything she knew about reading and also about arithmetic. She found that Charles learned quickly and soon could read almost as well as she could. He could do ciphers in his head better than she could. It was such a shame that he had to keep it a secret.
On this cool, fall day, Rachel crept through the trees near the slave cabins. Suddenly she saw her friend motioning for her to go deeper into the woods, down toward the river. She did so and soon he joined her.
"What you doin' down heah?" he gasped. "You gon get us bof in trouble. You get me a beatin'."
She giggled, shaking her blonde tresses. Her blue eyes glittered. Charles thought she must be the prettiest girl on earth. "I don't have any friends, Charles. Except you. I just love talking to you. Did you finish that book I gave you?"
"Miss Rachel, you can't be sayin stuff like that. We can't be friends. You own me. Or you will, one day. That's jus the way things be. You have to stop sneakin down round dese cabins. Stay up where you spose be."
"I'm not 'Miss Rachel' to you, Charles. Just Rachel. And we are friends. And if I ever really own you, I'm setting you free, along with all the other slaves. I don't care if I have a thing left!" she said, tears coming into her eyes. "It's not right, Charles. I sit in that big house doing nothing and you're working all day in the hot sun. And then you have to live in a run-down shack. I hate it!"
"Miss Rachel, you mighty good to me. You a good person. Ain't many white folk like you, but I hear tell that up No'th, they be a lot of white people what want to get rid of de slaves. Make us all free. They may even be a war."
"Abolitionists. That means they want to abolish slavery. Get rid of it. They're all over. There's even some down here. When I get grown I'm gonna be one, too!"
She reached and took Charles' hand and held it in her dainty little white hand. "One of these days, Charles, it's not gonna be like this."
Charles' heart raced. When he thought about how pretty Rachel was, he had feelings that were unfamiliar and which he could not have explained. Now she was holding his hand and he felt an overwhelming urge to pull her to him, to put his arms around her and hold her close to him. He even wondered what it might be like to kiss this young, pretty white girl. He could not allow himself to have these feelings; he knew that. He gently released her hand and got up.
"I gotta get back to the patch. They be wondering where I be. Be careful, Miss Rachel. You a good person." And with that, he was gone.
June, 1860
Rachel Claiborne had just turned 18 years old. She was widely known as the belle of the county. Tall, slender, graceful, with golden blonde hair and shimmering blue eyes, an impossibly small waist, and a bust that drew the attention of every man, she was, quite simply, a gorgeous woman. She had had many gentleman callers since the age of 15, but she wasn't really interested in any that she had met, so far.
Rachel's main goal in life was a secret to all but a few people with whom she corresponded and her friend, Charles, a slave that she rarely even saw anymore. She read every newspaper that she could get her hands on and was well aware of the political situation in the country. Some states, including her home state of Mississippi, were threatening to secede from the Union. Rachel didn't much care about the Union, one way or the other. She saw the states as independent countries that had banded together for common goals. She realized, too, that most people in the southern states didn't have any slaves and weren't likely to go to war to preserve it. She, like most southerners, saw her state as her country. But even people who didn't own slaves didn't want people up north deciding what their individual states could or could not do. That was something that men would fight about. Rachel was eager for war. Anything that might, in the end, rid the country, or state, of this terrible evil of slavery, was fine with her.
One day, knowing that her father was away on business, and her mother was in bed sick, she decided she would take a walk down by one of the barns. She was always on the lookout for Charles, but she rarely ever saw him anymore. She might catch a glimpse of him from time to time, but they hardly ever got to have even a minute's conversation. Rachel was very sad that she couldn't talk to her childhood friend; that she lived in a society where, even though she was considered Charles' superior, she wasn't allowed to even converse with him or say a kind word to him.
Occasionally she would very carefully make her way down to the cotton field, hoping to watch her old friend from the fence row or tree line, where she would not be detected. Charles was tall and muscular and extremely handsome. Every time Rachel saw him, she felt a deep longing for him that she knew was forbidden. She found herself imagining being with him. Kissing his lips, holding him close, allowing him access to her bountiful breasts. These things she would think about when she was alone in her bed. She didn't know exactly what to call the delightful feeling that she could give herself by pinching her nipples and touching herself between her legs, but she couldn't get enough of it, and she always, always, ALWAYS thought of Charles when she did it. She loved just watching him. He didn't know she was there, of course, but she was admiring his firm muscles and how strong he was and how athletic his movements were. Just watching him made her nipples hard and made her tingle between her legs.
Rachel was almost completely ignorant of a grown man's anatomy. She had watched farm animals breed and was particularly interested in watching horses breed. When the stallion mounted the mare, his long, thick horse cock would emerge. That made Rachel tremble with lust, imagining that Charles must possess an organ of similar shape, but of course of much smaller size. Still, it would do the same thing. Sometimes the stallion would slip out too soon and great gushes of thick, white stuff would spurt out onto the ground. Rachel knew that this was how the stallion impregnated the mare. She wondered what it would be like to have a man (Charles!!) mount her and spurt his thick cream inside her. Or, even better, on her – she didn't want to get pregnant! She thought that she would prefer to have him lay between her legs and kiss her and look in her face instead of mounting her like an animal.
On this day, as Rachel walked beside the barn, she suddenly heard sounds coming from inside. She paused, and lay her head against the side of the barn to hear better. She could hear people talking, very low, but could not make out anything they said.
She crept to the ladder that led into the loft of the barn and very deliberately and quietly made her way upward. When she got into the loft, she could make out voices, though they were still indistinct. Step by silent step she gradually came closer to the source of the voices, which were now directly below her. She quietly lay down on some loose hay, and managed to look below through a crack between boards of the loft flooring.
Charles! Charles and a young black woman named Peg. Peg, so it was rumored, was the daughter of Rachel's own father. She wasn't the only one. There were a number of slaves that Thomas Claiborne had sired, or so the rumor went. Charles and Peg were naked. Rachel could clearly see the young woman's pert breasts and trim figure. Though Rachel experienced overwhelming jealousy, she immediately realized that there was nothing unusual about this. Very few of the slaves ever got married because the slave masters didn't hesitate to break up families when they bought and sold slaves. Rachel could see how very desirable this young woman must be to Charles and she could easily understand the attraction. Charles, she knew, was 19, and she imagined that Peg must be a year or two older. Most slave girls had given birth before this age. Rachel wondered if the slaves had any qualms at all about what age they started having sex. Why would they? They hardly had any pleasure in life. No wonder that they sometimes were having children when they were 13 or 14 years of age.
Charles was kissing Peg's breasts and she was obviously loving it. He was on all fours, over the top of her, alternately kissing her mouth and then delving down to kiss her throat, her upper chest, and her breasts. Rachel knew from the way Peg reacted that this would be incredibly thrilling. She could feel herself beginning to get wet between her legs and determined to watch every moment.
"Charlie, I lub you babee. Oh you makin' me feel so good. Suck my titties, Baby. Oh that so good," Peg moaned.
"Don't make too much noise," Charles admonished. "We ain't been together in weeks. I bout to bust seein you ever day when I on the way down to the patch. You look so good, girl," he whispered as he continued to kiss her throat, mouth, and breasts. Rachel saw his hand go between Peg's widely splayed legs and saw her mouth open in a gasp when he touched her. Rachel imagined herself in Peg's place. Even though she was a virgin, she knew that she would eagerly let Charles do whatever he wanted to her. Nobody had ever come close to exciting her the way he did. Her many suitors, who sometimes kissed her, and many times tried to fondle her prominent breasts, never excited her the way just the thought of Charles did.
"Fuck me, Charlie! I can't wait no longer!" Peg moaned. "I think about it all the time, Baby. I can't get enough of yo good lovin."
Charles moved to lay on his back, and that's when Rachel saw it for the first time. She quickly put her hand over her mouth to stifle her own moan. How in the world did a woman get that inside her? It didn't look much smaller, at least from this perspective, than the many horse cocks that she had seen around the plantation. Pure, unadulterated, lust overwhelmed her. Even though she wondered how it was possible for that impressive girth to go inside a woman's body, she wanted it. She felt on the verge of climax. Nothing she had ever imagined had prepared her for this. Her body was shaking. She pulled her skirts up and reached inside her undergarments to touch herself as she continued to watch the two beautiful people below her.
Peg got on all fours and leaned over Charles' face, pressing first one breast, then the other, to his mouth. "Suck them titties, Baby. Oh you so good. Bite it. Oh Charlie! Oh Baby!"
Then she crawled between his legs and hefted his massive length. "How you even walk with all dis dick between yo legs?" she laughed. "If you eva choppin cotton and break yo hoe, you can use dis as a handle!" They both laughed as Peg leaned over and took his gigantic cock head, into her mouth.
It had never entered Rachel's mind that a woman might take a man's penis into her mouth. She was aghast, but realized immediately that it was the most sensual thing she had ever seen and knew that she would love to do it herself. Still, though, she was amazed at how easily Peg took, not only the head of Charles's penis into her mouth, but several inches of his monstrously thick shaft.
"Oh, fuck!" Charles moaned. "You gon hafta quit. I gon cum!" he warned.
Peg took his cock out of her drooling mouth and smiled. "You know how I like dat stuff. You got more. We got time." With that she took him inside her mouth again and, unbelievably, took even more of his inconceivable length into her mouth.
So this was obviously something they had done many times. Rachel pondered that and felt pangs of jealousy. She imagined what it would have been like to have met Charles out in the woods during their teenage years. How they would have lain naked with each other, kissing each other all over. How she would have worshipped that beautiful manhood that hung between his legs. How he would have trained her to suck it, to take it deeper and deeper into her mouth. How she would have learned to let him spew his seed into her mouth. How she would have gladly suckled him every time they saw each other because she adored him so! And how forbidden it was because she was white and he was her black slave. Unable to control herself, Rachel let out a small moan as her orgasm hit her. She fingered her clit as she gasped for breath, hoping against hope that the sucking sounds that Peg was making covered the sounds of her own passion.
As she came down from her orgasm, she saw Peg swallowing seemingly more and more of Charles' dripping shaft. Her face was a mask of lust and she appeared to be starved for what was to come. She took him out of her mouth, gasped for breath, and said, "Give me that good cum, baby. Please, Baby?"
When she said this, and continued to stroke Charles' massive cock, suddenly a geyser of thick white cum erupted and soared far them, then fell back down onto his chest, as Peg quickly aimed his cock into her mouth and eagerly accepted the remainder of his substantial offering.
From Rachel's perspective, she could easily see great wads of thick cream shooting into Peg's mouth. There seemed to be an endless supply of it. She longed to join Peg, to at least help her clean up the mess that was dripping off her chin and onto Charles' stomach as she continued to fervently stroke his monumental length with both hands. This girl was wild for it, and Rachel could totally understand it. She had been attracted to Charles since she even knew what attraction was. He excited her sexually more than anything on earth. She knew that Peg must feel the same way and, having experienced him sexually, how insane she must be to suck and fuck him as often as possible.
"That all you got for yo' girl, Baby?" Peg laughed, as she wiped the cum off of her chin and sucked her fingers. "You got the best tastin' cum of anybody!"
Charles laughed. "Anybody? You ain't been with that many."
Peg kissed his mouth. "I ain't fucked but one, other than you. And dat's because dey's satisfied after I suck it."
"I love you, Peg. I wish we could get married."
"Dat's just a dream, but I don't want no babies unless I married. Dat's just how I feel."
"Master Thomas keep sniffin around, you gon end up wif a baby, hon," Charles said matter-of-factly.
Shit. Her father was having sex with Peg? She was his daughter! Surely he knew it! Rachel disliked her father intensely. How could he do things like this? How could he treat human beings this way?
"I always try to get him to let me suck it. That way ain't as much of his stuff inside me if he take a poke at me later," she said.
"He good as me?" Charles teased.
"He got a good sized one for a white man," Peg laughed. "I just try to enjoy it since it gonna happen anyway."
"You like a big one, don't you, Baby?"
"You big jealous baby. Fuckin is the only pleasure niggers get. You gon' deny me dat?"
"No. Long as you jus' love me."
Peg straddled him and leaned to kiss him. "You de onliest one I be lovin. But if Master Thomas come around, I ain't got no choice," she said as she reached down and inserted the head of his cock inside herself. "Oh fuck Baby you so big!"
Charles placed his hands on her ass and slowly fitted himself inside her, then tenderly pushed himself deep inside her. "That some good pussy, there, Baby," he grunted.
Peg laughed. "You know it belong to you. Master just rent it."
"You need to keep them other niggers away from my pussy, then," Charles whispered.
Peg stroked his face. "Ain't nobody like you, Charlie. I love you, Baby. One dese days me and you gon' be up north, married, wif babies. The way God intended."
Rachel could see a tear drop fall from Peg's eyes to Charles' face as she rode him. Her heart broke for Peg.
"Dis ain't right in de Lawd's eyes, Charlie. We ain't spose be fuckin like animals, not allowed to get married, ever woman havin kids by five, six different men, including Massah. It ain't right. But what we gon' do? We be treated like animals. We's done become animals."

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