This is my account, delight give mention where credit is due.
Thank you and enjoy ... I am thinking about writing more. Johncrinshaw1

October 19, 1861
Wilmington, magnetic north Carolina
Planter Henry James Sir Anthony Philip Hopkins grove

When the air turns cool and potato chip, it seems the energy it takes to get out of a warm bed becomes insurmountable. Looking out the bedroom windowpane at the sun, as it begins its day by day peak over the easterly most mound of the Plantation, I gather my will and toss the covering fire off and heavily flop my pes to the cold flooring. My gown is unfortunately powerful where I piled it the night before. For a abbreviated bit, my thoughts travel back to three days prior. One of our house striver had unfortunately drawn the ire of the home matriarch ( Mrs. Raymond Chandler ) and after a plantation display of dislike by one of our best drivers ; she was sold to the Lee grove over in the following county. I have never been one to be attached to attribute but I genuinely liked her, she was always right there with whatever was needed…this may have been what brought about her demise with Mrs. Raymond Thornton Chandler. My robe has not been warmed by the fire and laid out for me since she was forced out. Putting on my frigid cotton robe, I walk to the window and slide it opened. Breathing in the declivity Carolina air, the smell of drying baccy enters my nostrils and upon exhale, I can see my hint. My creative thinker cheque off the daily tasks that are to be completed today. It is auction off day in town.

Finishing my shaving, and putting on my well Sunday attire, ( staring with Grandfathers pocket scout from Sweden ), I open my sleeping room threshold. The smell of warm bread and breakfast floats down the great student residence as I head for the dining room. I smile, knowing that originally, seven twelvemonth old, Peter ( my waiting boy ) must have heard me waking up behind the door to my room and he must have hurried to report to the kitchen staff that I had awakened and would soon be wanting my number one repast of the day. He must throw been waiting behind my doorway for at least an hour, as he has been trained to do since the source of his transfer to sign help condition. This view always brightens my modality, he has gravid potentiality showing for when he gets older, even if his peel is glowering as night.

Breakfast is indeed fulfilling, gritrock laden with butter, eggs with fatback, and a unspoiled strong coffee bean blend to wash away it down. Once again the kitchen staff have proven their Worth, a not bad investment two years ago. Even my dinner parties and evening company have discussed amongst their circles about the food from the dinner mesa on the Hopkins Plantation. A good investiture indeed, for I love the fact that my societal condition is growing within the community. granddaddy, God rest his individual, would be lofty. And now to start the Clarence Shepard Day Jr. tasks. Peter is waiting at the launching door with my hat, cloak, and walking cane. Beaming, his tweed teeth create such a stark contrast against his dark cutis, he tells me,"morning'in Masser Hopkins"and as usual is secretly hoping for one of my treats that I keep in the left air hole of my vest. Satisfied with his work so far, I reach in and hand him a piece of peppermint. He closes the door behind me and as I look in the length, I see Charlie herding the Bos taurus out to the grazing land for the day. Looking to the N, the foresightful line of merchandise of field striver can be seen heading out to forge in the cane study. Today is going to be a decent and productive day on the grove. Walking around the west side of meat of the porch, I glance at the stables and sense a stirring within…"not yet, but very soon"I tell myself."I still have a few things to finish up first."The tobacco shed is off to the left wing so I head over to check out the last film editing and see how it is drying. Satisfied, my aid move to the stable again, but a quick stop at the blacksmith takes precedence."Hello, Massa Sir Frederick Gowland Hopkins ”, Ray says."Good morning time, Ray. How is the new axle hub coming for piece of work Dipper five ?"I ask."Almost finished sir, should be done later today."He replies. He follows my gaze to the stalls and William Tell me to go on ahead, things are under ascendence and do not want my attention. He is rectify, matter are working smooth this morning time and I have practically bigger chore at handwriting. A quick slip to the horse barn and then it will be off to the slave barter in the Ithiel Town square.

walk at a brisk pace, I reach the stable master door and push open the big backbreaking pine. The place would be empty except for a maria that is six months along and on a limited diet. The coach has been wheeled out and presumably the ostler hitched it to the team in preparation for my 45-minute slip into townsfolk. And, of line, as instructed, off to the side near the hay bales stands Hanna, in her usual position…waiting for me patiently. Her burlap dress drawn up about her waist and her leg covering drawn down and laying on one ankle joint. Barefoot, her stage splayed wide, eye staring ahead. As she hears my footsteps hooking closer she bends over from the waistline, puts one hand on the hay Basle in front end of her and uses her other manus to disperse her cheeks wider, just as I instructed the day before. I coup d'oeil at her burnt umber form on exhibit shamelessly in front of me. She is clean and flavour of grievous bodily harm, to my approval. Hanna has been much busier in the horse barn than usual over the last three Day. Normally, I would call upon her once a week for my pauperization to be met, but now that my darling household slave was sold off three days ago, I have been calling on her daily, always in the morning after breakfast. This morning is no dissimilar, in fact it is one of the most crucial for it is very bad to head to the slave grocery with a load built up…it can be very hard to mean with the right head when trying to drive a bargain with the slave bargainer. If dismissal has not been usable, it is very comfortable to get carried away and pay far too much in toll for a house striver. So, my handout into Hanna this forenoon feels most important. Stepping closer to Hanna, I undo my belt and lay in side by side to her on the hay Basle. I let my boxers fall to my ankles. My pecker is already growing rapidly and I rub my chief up and down her pink scratch. She stays in that Sami position, only breathing harder now, knowing full well what comes side by side. She must have been rubbing herself before I opened the room access because she is surprisingly moist already… and her pink inner backtalk peak from behind her spread black outer lip. Fully hardened now, I place my hands on her rose hip and logical argument up my forefront to her moist cunt. Pulling with my hands and thrusting with my hips, my turncock in one thrust, plunges deep into her epithelial duct and bottoms out when my pelvis meets her cheek. A oink erupts from Hanna, at the profligate disconnected insertion. Once I am in, her mitt leaves her boldness and joins the former one on the hay Basle so that she can keep her equilibrium. Pulling back out, I thrust in again, a bit harder this clip. I like Hanna, but I like to use her tight kitty in ways that I do not use very many of my early hard worker. It feels ripe to pound a pussy for no other reason then arrant pleasure. And Hanna has a very well pussy that was made for me to lb, fast, hard, and with emphatic ownership. Pulling out again, I thrust in, and with my shaft fully wet and sliding easily I begin my day-by-day exercise. With each forceful thrust, her body lunges forward and my skin slaps against her ass. Each rhythmic slap is met with a grunt from her. Keeping up a near pace for six minutes I can feel the building press release coming on. I hear my part saying"Yeah, that's it Hanna…take it all, I enjoy using you for my indigence, and here it comes….get ready…uhhhh."I push her oral sex down blue to the hay Bale. With a few Sir Thomas More abstruse drive I feel myself about to erupt. I pull out and groaning, blow my cum all over her blackness ass and lower back, the Edward D. White cum glaring brightly on her dark skin in the dim lighting. Flicking the lastly few drops from my tip, I pull my pants up and admire my painting while putting on my belt. With a unfaltering hand smack to her cum covered pull up stakes 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 clothes and hairsbreadth disheveled, cum dripping down her ass, and a well used pussy, gaping and still on display. Closing the doorway, I head for the carriage in the front drive with a certain bounce in my stride. One of the squad horses that is attached to the coach nicker from around the corner.

Climbing aboard, my driver ( Ed ) shakes the reins and with a lurch the 45-minute journey begins. The road is mostly shine, except for the stream crossing at the edge of my property. A constant reminder that I need to get the two carpenter striver out here to rebuild the bridge that washed out during the outflow overflow. 30 hour later, as Charles IX and I pull up to the town lame, I step off and he heads the team off to the horse barn to wait for my call. Glancing at my air pocket ticker, I whistle and think that I cut it a little close this time…only 10 arcminute to spare before the auction begins. Not much time to peruse the inventory. I head over to the cells and hitching stake where the slaves are kept restrained. 9 hitching posts in the land with five slaves tethered to each one. These are separated into male and female Post in order to go along the shit separated due to their instinct to bend a female person over and breed her then and there. A agile walk through of the males and only one has my interest. His mark alerts me of his origin. He is up for cut-rate sale from the Roswell farm, and looks to be used to some hard project in the sugar boiler. I write down his figure"41"and the level best price that I am willing to bid for him. Over at the female posts my pass through leave me empty. None there are desirable of the Mark Hopkins plantation. Either too untried or too old. Entering the cellular phone section of the market, the roof over hang cutting the light down to a dim glow. The cells are where the new striver are kept, after spending some time in convalescence due to the long trip in the belly of a gravy holder in unspeakable stipulation and food for thought rations ; they are auctioned off to the highest bidder once they regain strength and color. Not needing any male person, I move toward the female cells. I find there are three cells 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 weigh purchasing as my new house hard worker. Both are light-headed skinned and both are of age so it comes down to the final Price. A campana in the square alerts me to the fact that my ten minutes are up and the issue is starting.

I quickly leave the cells and head for the square in rescript to obtain a becoming shoes in the crowd. In block of ten the slaves are led up onto the platform and presented. Any remaining clothing is removed briskly and the auction starts. My male comes up and the dictation quickly rises to above my allotted amount of money and another gentleman purchase him, I believe it was Don the feed store owner, but it doesn't really matter. The line moves quickly and another ten, then another…until finally one of my light skinned house slaves is on the platform with ten others. The fist two on her right are naked and sold quickly to another orchard owner. The auction off dance step over and grabs the arm of my choice striver and pulls her to the edge of the platform and rip off her sparse rags. Her weapons system stay limply at her sides as the bidding starts. My eyes travel up her secure shapely legs, over her thick black pubic hillock, up her waist to her pert nipples standing at care in the cool morning air. Her eyes are staring at nothing, maybe a spot on the stage at her foundation. I find her skin color to be perfect, she appears level-headed and clean from disease. Realizing the bidding has already started, I raise my mitt and am recognized. This gesture happens another six prison term before I decide the terms is to high school and I wait for the other to be brought out. alternative telephone number one is purchased and escorted off the stage to the staging area where she will be paid for, papered, and shown to her new master.

Two groups of ten later and my other pick is front and shopping center. Being bare already she is not stripped, and her hands rest gently at her side. She is staring straight ahead into the crowded square accepting her hereafter. My eyes change of location over her luminousness consistence, she is quite a bit darker than the first girl, but would still represent a Hopkins household well. Smiling, I raise my hand to bid. The summons price rises quickly. I run a straightaway calculation in my head and take into essence the deviation in not buying the sugar boiler from the Lee farm."Going once, twice…."I raise my hand again and read the Price up another 10 buck. After a pause,"Sold"is echoed across the grounds and she is escorted over to the steps to await my call in the scaffolding field. Stepping purposefully, I make my way over there.

I paw the money to the shop assistant. He writes my information on the transfer of property possession records. He also writes a ledger in his record book. While my new sign of the zodiac slave looks on, I place my signature on the paperwork. Once the transaction is consummate, I call for Ed to bring in the coach. Turning to my newly acquired property, I let her know my epithet is captain Anthony Hopkins .