Synopsis: The lone mistress of a Civil War era Georgia plantation finds herself enslaved. Author: Janet Storm Category: Lesbian/Authoritarian
The smoke drifted across the sky, giving it a gray pink cast. Adora knew this was Sherman's Army marching a few miles to the east. It had spared her plantation despite the broad swath that it cut through the Georgia countryside. Had they approached a mile or two more scavengers would have found her cotton fields and burned down the plantation house.
Some of the slaves -- mostly the men -- had followed that cloud. Now she had no one to harvest the crop -- as if there was a market where she could sell it. The opulent life -- the delicious food, the new clothes, the fancy dress balls -- to which she was accustomed was gone. She had a beautiful house but no luxuries and little food.
This turned her arteries to molten steel her because this was her place, this was her entitlement as the wife of a successful plantation owner. The slaves barely grew vegetables, much less kept the cotton. Conrad marched with Hood now -- if he was still alive -- heading north to distract the blue viper cutting through the forests to the sea. That turncoat Pappy Thomas was the only thing chasing him.
She stood on her portico watching the sky and little noticing the slave women who collected in her front yard. She ran a hand between her dress and her skin, wiping away the sweat.
The women talked among themselves, pointing to the only white woman on the property. Then they said nothing as they approached the great house and climbed the stairs.
They took her by surprise. They dragged her into the house and threw her to the floor. "I am your mistress!" Adora objected.
"Not no more," said the tallest of the slave women. "You is our slave now."
The black women encircled her, then grasped her dress and ripped it free of her body. Then they pulled off her underwear exposing her tea saucer-size breasts and the upside-down triangle between her legs. The women stood her up and pet her pale body with a rainbow of brown hands. They undid her hair and let it flow down her back. She shivered in fear as they squeezed her breasts and ran their fingers up and down her slit.
A house-slave-no-more grabbed her and pressed her clothed body to her naked one. One arm wrapped around her body and the other reached down so a hand could stroke the tangle that covered her clitoris. Adora seized up as she was worked over, then slowly she began to give in. A deep shudder nearly broke her body as she was passed from woman to woman. A spring of pleasure dripped from her labia. Yes, they owned her.
Someone wrapped a ribbon around her neck. They forced her to the floor, making her walk on all fours. Her breasts dangled down. Her former chattels ran their hands all over her body.
"She our dog now," said the tall woman. "Bark for us honey or whine a bit."
Adora whined like a cur as the mob continued to arouse her. She wagged her butt for them which caused them to laugh. A flush of red, beginning at her head, marched down her body. She was not only embarrassed, but she liked this unexpected attention that they were giving her. A bitch in heat described her at this moment, a slave to her seasons.
Someone spanked her on her butt. "Get along, doggy" she said. Adora crawled out of the room and down the stairs surrounded by the former slaves. The women led her outside then made her roll in the dirt. The dirt turned to mud in in her sweat, on face stained with tears of excited joy, and in the juices of her bush. The women laughed and pulled at her nipples and her pubic hair. They kept arousing her until she could orgasm no more.
They kept her in a dirt-floor cabin. Conrad did not come home from the war. The great house fell to ruins and the women tilled the fields, tearing out the cotton and selling the vegetables to the farms and plantations around them. Every night Adora had visitors. She looked forward to them, squealing with the pleasure that they gave her.
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