This is my story, please return credit where credit is due.
Thank you and enjoy ... I am thinking about writing more. Johncrinshaw1

October 19, 1861
Wilmington, N Carolina
planter James Hopkins Plantation

When the air turns cool and chip, it seems the energy it takes to get out of a warm bed becomes insuperable. Looking out the bedroom window at the sun, as it begins its day-after-day peak over the eastern most hill of the woodlet, I gather my will and thrash the masking off and heavily flop my feet to the frigidity floor. My gown is unfortunately right field where I piled it the night before. For a brief moment, my opinion travel back to three years prior. One of our home slaves had unfortunately drawn the ire of the home matriarch ( Mrs chandler ) and after a plantation display of disapproval by one of our best number one wood ; she was sold to the Lee orchard over in the next county. I have never been one to be attached to prop but I genuinely liked her, she was always right there with whatever was needed…this may throw been what brought about her demise with Mrs. Raymond Chandler. My robe has not been warmed by the attack and laid out for me since she was forced out. Putting on my cold cotton fiber robe, I walk to the window and sloping trough it exposed. Breathing in the fall Carolina air, the olfactory perception of drying baccy enters my anterior naris and upon exhale, I can see my breath. My idea hinderance off the day-after-day task that are to be completed today. It is auction day in town.

coating my shaving, and putting on my outdo William Ashley Sunday dress, ( sodding with gramps pocket watch from Sverige ), I open my chamber threshold. The smell of warm lettuce and breakfast ice-cream float down the great manse as I head for the dining room. I smile, knowing that former, seven class old, dick ( my waiting boy ) must throw heard me waking up behind the door to my way and he must have hurried to report to the kitchen staff that I had awakened and would soon be wanting my first meal of the day. He must have been waiting behind my door for at least an hour, as he has been trained to do since the beginning of his transfer of training to firm help condition. This thought always brightens my mood, he has gravid potential showing for when he gets sure-enough, even if his skin is dark as night.

Breakfast is indeed carry through, grit laden with butter, eggs with fatback, and a good strong coffee blend to rinse it down. Once again the kitchen faculty have proven their worth, a great investment two year ago. Even my dinner company and evening party have discussed amongst their lot about the solid food from the dinner party tabular array on the Hopkins Plantation. A full investment indeed, for I love the fact that my mixer status is growing within the community. granddad, God rest his soul, would be proud. And now to go the days tasks. cock is waiting at the first appearance threshold with my hat, cloak, and walking cane. Beaming, his white dentition create such a stark contrast against his darkness peel, he tells me,"morning time'in Masser Hopkins"and as usual is secretly hoping for one of my treats that I keep in the left pocket of my vest. Satisfied with his work so far, I reach in and helping hand him a musical composition of Eucalyptus amygdalina. He closes the door behind me and as I look in the length, I see Charlie herding the cows out to the ley for the day. Looking to the north, the long line of field striver can be seen heading out to run in the cane subject field. Today is going to be a decent and productive day on the plantation. Walking around the due west side of the porch, I glance at the stables and feel a inspiration within…"not yet, but very soon"I tell myself."I still have a few matter to finish up first."The tobacco shed is off to the left so I head over to checker out the last newspaper clipping and see how it is drying. Satisfied, my attention motility to the stable again, but a quick stopover at the blacksmith takes antecedency."Hello, Massa Anthony Hopkins ”, Ray says."Good morning, Ray. How is the new axle hub coming for piece of work wagon five ?"I ask."Almost finished sir, should be done later today."He replies. He follows my regard to the stables and tells me to go on ahead, things are under control and do not need my care. He is right, things are working smooth this morning and I have a great deal prominent project at hand. A quick trip to the stable and then it will be off to the knuckle down craft in the Town square.

Walking at a brisk tempo, I reach the stalls chief door and push open the big heavy pine. The place would be empty except for a maria that is six calendar month along and on a peculiar diet. The bus has been wheeled out and presumably the bridegroom hitched it to the team in training for my 45-minute trip into town. And, of course of instruction, as instructed, off to the side near the hay bales stands Hanna, in her usual position…waiting for me patiently. Her gunny dress drawn up about her waistline and her leging drawn down and laying on one ankle. Barefoot, her leg spread out across-the-board, eyes staring ahead. As she hears my footfall drawing card closer she bends over from the waistline, puts one hand on the hay Basle in front of her and uses her other bridge player to spread her cheeks wider, just as I instructed the day before. I glance at her chocolate form on display shamelessly in front of me. She is fairly and smells of soap, to my commendation. Hanna has been much busier in the stables than usual over the last three Day. Normally, I would call upon her once a week for my needs to be met, but now that my favorite mansion slave was sold off three years ago, I have been calling on her daily, always in the aurora after breakfast. This morning is no different, in fact it is one of the most crucial for it is very bad to head to the slave market with a load built up…it can be very difficult to cogitate with the right psyche when trying to drive a bargain with the slave traders. If release has not been available, it is very leisurely to get carried away and pay far too much in Leontyne Price for a house striver. So, my freeing into Hanna this break of the day feels most of import. Stepping closemouthed to Hanna, I undo my belt ammunition and lay in next to her on the hay bale. I let my drawers fall to my ankles. My cock is already growing rapidly and I rub my head up and down her garden pink twat. She stays in that same position, only breathing harder now, knowing full-of-the-moon well what comes succeeding. She must feature been rubbing herself before I opened the door because she is surprisingly moist already… and her pinko inner mouth peak from behind her disperse bootleg outer lips. Fully hardened now, I place my handwriting on her pelvic girdle and occupation up my head to her moist cunt. Pulling with my work force and thrusting with my coxa, my cock in one thrusting, plunges deep into her epithelial duct and tooshie out when my renal pelvis meets her cheeks. A grunt erupts from Hanna, at the fast abrupt insertion. Once I am in, her hand leaves her brass and joins the other one on the hay bale so that she can keep her balance. Pulling back out, I thrust in again, a bit harder this time. I like Hanna, but I like to use her tight pussy in path that I do not use very many of my other slaves. It feels good to Ezra Pound a pussy for no other reason then arrant pleasure. And Hanna has a alright puss that was made for me to Irish punt, fast, hard, and with forceful ownership. Pulling out again, I thrust in, and with my cock fully wet and sliding easily I begin my daily exercise. With each forceful thrust, her body lunges forward and my skin smacking against her ass. Each rhythmical slap is met with a grunt from her. Keeping up a dependable pace for six minutes I can feel the edifice release coming on. I hear my phonation saying"Yeah, that's it Hanna…take it all, I enjoy using you for my motivation, and here it comes….get ready…uhhhh."I push her pass down miserable to the hay bale. With a few More deep stab I feel myself about to erupt. I pull out and groaning, blow my cum all over her black ass and frown back, the white seed glaring brightly on her iniquity peel in the dim visible radiation. Flicking the last few drop curtain from my tip, I pull my pants up and admire my painting while putting on my belt. With a unbendable hand slap to her cum covered left ass cheek, I pick up my cane and tell her"well done Hanna, see you again in the morning."I leave her there, leaning over the hay Bale with her apparel and hair disheveled, cum dripping down her ass, and a well used twat, gaping and still on display. Closing the threshold, I head for the passenger vehicle in the front drive with a certain bounce in my stride. One of the team horses that is attached to the coach whinnies from around the corner.

climb aboard, my number one wood ( Ed ) shakes the reins and with a lurch the 45-minute journey begins. The route is mostly smooth, except for the stream crossing at the edge of my prop. A unremitting reminder that I need to get the two carpenter slaves out here to rebuild the nosepiece that washed out during the natural spring flood. 30 minutes later, as Charlemagne and I pull up to the township square, I step off and he heads the team off to the horse barn to wait for my call. Glancing at my pocket watch, I whistle and think that I cut it a little close this time…only 10 mo to spare before the vendue begins. Not much fourth dimension to peruse the inventory. I head over to the cells and hitching posts where the hard worker are kept restrained. 9 hitching posts in the solid ground with five slaves tethered to each one. These are separated into Male and female spot in order to keep the bulls separated due to their instinct to bend a female over and engender her then and there. A quick walk through of the Male and only one has my interest. His chump alerts me of his origin. He is up for sale from the Roswell farm, and looks to be used to some hard labor in the wampum boiler. I write down his number"41"and the upper limit price that I am willing to bid for him. Over at the female stake my paseo through leafage me empty. None there are worthy of the Anthony Hopkins plantation. Either too Edward Young or too old. Entering the cell section of the grocery, the roof over knack cutting the sluttish down to a dim luminescence. The prison cell are where the new hard worker are kept, after spending some time in retrieval due to the farsighted trip in the paunch of a boat in unspeakable precondition and food rations ; they are auctioned off to the high-pitched bidder once they regain posture and color. Not needing any males, I move toward the female jail cell. I find there are three prison cell with 10 in each one. Used to being looked over they pay no notice to the buyers as we walk by. Some in rags, some naked…I find two that I would want to view purchasing as my new house striver. Both are lighter skinned and both are of age so it comes down to the final price. A bell in the square alerts me to the fact that my ten hour are up and the event is starting.

I quickly leave the cadre and fountainhead for the square in order to obtain a decent place in the crowd. In blocks of ten the slaves are led up onto the weapons platform and presented. Any remaining clothing is removed briskly and the auction starts. My male comes up and the bidding quickly rises to above my allotted amount and another gentleman purchases him, I believe it was Don the provender fund owner, but it doesn't really matter. The bank line moves quickly and another ten, then another…until finally one of my light skinned theatre slaves is on the platform with ten others. The fist two on her rightfulness are naked and sold quickly to another plantation owner. The auctioneer steps over and catch the arm of my alternative slave and pulls her to the boundary of the program and rend off her sparse ragtime. Her weapons system stay limply at her English as the bid starts. My eyes travel up her strong shapely legs, over her thick black pubic mound, up her shank to her pert nipples standing at attention in the cool morning time air. Her center are staring at goose egg, maybe a stain on the microscope stage at her feet. I find her skin people of color to be perfect, she appears healthy and pick from disease. Realizing the dictation has already started, I raise my hand and am recognized. This motion happens another six meter before I decide the price is to richly and I wait for the other to be brought out. Choice phone number one is purchased and escorted off the point to the staging area where she will be paid for, papered, and shown to her new master.

Two group of ten later and my other weft is front and centre. Being naked already she is not stripped, and her hands rest gently at her slope. She is staring true ahead into the crowded second power accepting her future. My eyes travelling over her low-cal torso, she is quite a bit darker than the inaugural fille, but would still represent a Johns Hopkins house well. Smiling, I raise my hand to bid. The bid price hike quickly. I run a spry calculation in my principal and take into consequence the remainder in not buying the boodle boiler from the Lee farm."Going once, twice…."I raise my bridge player again and take the price up another 10 dollars. After a intermission,"Sold"is echoed across the grounds and she is escorted over to the stairs to await my call in the staging expanse. Stepping purposefully, I make my way over there.

I hand the money to the clerk. He writes my data on the transfer of dimension ownership records. He also writes a ledger in his record record book. While my new house slave looks on, I place my signature tune on the paperwork. Once the transaction is fill out, I call for Ed to bring the coach. Turning to my newly acquired property, I let her know my epithet is overlord Hopkins .