("`-''-/").___..--''"`-._
`6_ 6 ) `-. ( ).`-.__.`)
(_Y_.)' ._ ) `._ `. ``-..-'
_..`--'_..-_/ /--'_.' ,'
(((' (((-((('' ((((
K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
_________________________________________
WARNING!
This text file contains sexually explicit
material. If you do not wish to read this
type of literature, or you are under age,
PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!!
_________________________________________
Scroll down to view text
Archive name: rachael.txt (MMF, rp, v, intr, preg)
Authors name: ErosWriterXXX (eroswriterxxx@aol.com)
Story title : Ravishment of Rachel
--------------------------------------------------------
This work is copyrighted to the author (c) 2003. Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
to this story. You may post freely to non-commercial
"free" sites, or in the "free" area of commercial sites.
Thank you for your consideration.
--------------------------------------------------------
Ravishment of Rachel (MMF, rp, v, intr, preg)
by ErosWriterXXX (eroswriterxxx@aol.com)
***
In the ante-bellum South a beautiful young Mulatta
suffers ravishment at the hands of a cruel master and his
guests.
***
Disclaimer: This story should not be read by minors or if
it is illegal to do so in your area. This story is a work
of erotic fiction and fantasy and is not meant to endorse
or condone human slavery or non-consensual sex. Nor is it
meant to be a realistic depiction of the act of rape. If
you don't like to read about these things, then don't
read it. Comments welcome, flame ignored. Do not post on
any pay sites. Copyright by author.
***
Rachel Coleman stared out the bay window in the dining
room of the Harris mansion watching the road that led
from the train station. Even though it was relatively
cool in Virginia for a late summer's day, the house
servants were working up a sweat, all a bustle with final
preparations for the arrival of master Harris and his
dinner guests.
Harris had put Rachel in charge of overseeing that the
house was ready for his business "soiree" as he put it.
Rachel had just turned eighteen but the pretty petite
Mulatta had supervised formal social occasions for years
for her previous mistress, the late Miss Coleman.
The spinster Miss Coleman had been very fond of her late
brother's only offspring, the fruit of his union with a
beautiful dark skinned African slave girl. Sadly,
Rachel's mother died giving her birth. Not long after
that her father was killed when he was thrown from his
prize thoroughbred when the horse was spooked by a
rattlesnake, his head smashed against a rock.
But in a way, her father's death was the making of
Rachel. Having died young, her father had not yet
married. So, unlike in many other Southern aristocratic
homes, where the master had two families and one jealous
wife, the spinster Miss Coleman was presented with no
obstacles to raising her brother's pretty daughter in the
old family mansion.
Living alone, aside from the house servants, the overseer
and field hands of the estate, Miss Coleman showered her
niece with affection and attention. Rumor had it that she
had not only schooled the girl in etiquette but even
schooled her in literature as well, teaching her how to
read. Everywhere that the adventurous and worldly
spinster went, Rachel accompanied her, once even
journeying to England and France when she was only
sixteen.
The freedom that Rachel felt in those two countries where
slavery was abolished had been intoxicating, despite the
prejudice. But in truth, when Rachel was abroad and in
public, many a white man was smitten with her charms
which far surpassed that of any so-called Southern Belle.
But those halcyon days had ended with the death of her
beloved aunt. On her deathbed, Aunt Nellie had told
Rachel not to worry, that her future was assured. She had
specified in her will that Rachel was to be manumitted to
freedom and that she was to receive a large inheritance
from the proceeds of the sale of the plantation.
Unfortunately, Rachel soon discovered, much to her
dismay, that Aunt Nellie had never signed the will in the
presence of a lawyer and that it was therefore completely
invalid. The debts of the estate were large but were
assumed by a Mr. William Harris, a distant cousin of Aunt
Nellie and her only living relation outside of Rachel. As
Rachel was legally still property, Mr. Harris acquired
her likewise when he took over the Coleman plantation.
Harris made it clear that although he and Rachel might be
distantly related, she was nothing more than his
property. She would stay in the house and supervise his
social functions, making sure that the place settings,
wine and dinner menus matched the social standing of his
guests.
That had been several months ago. Now Rachel busied
herself supervising the last minute preparations for his
soiree. She strolled from room to room making sure that
the place settings in the dining room were exact, that
the food preparation in the kitchen was on schedule and
that only the best wines and brandies were being brought
up from the cellar.
At last a servant alerted her that the carriage had been
spotted coming up the road. All was in place. Rachel
hurried through the dining room to the main door. The
house servants were already lined up in two rows flanking
the door. Rachel assumed a station on the right at the
end.
Harris entered with four guests, a banker, a railroad
president, a lawyer and a handsome young English shipper.
The shipper, a Mr. John Bell produced a gift for Harris,
a set of matched Navy Colt pistols. Harris accepted them
graciously, giving them to a servant to put away. Then
Harris led Rachel and his guests into the dining room.
Midway in the meal, conversation began to take a lively
turn.
"So what do you value most Mr. Bell?" the lawyer inquired
almost disinterestedly, "Justice or mercy?"
Bell's reply was quick and sure. "Justice must be
tempered by mercy, sir, or else there is no justice at
all."
From the end of the table, Rachel suddenly spoke.
"The quality of mercy is not strained; it droppeth as the
gentle rain from heaven upon the place beneath."
The Englishman smiled with recognition and finished the
refrain.
"'It is twice bless'd; it blesseth him that gives and him
that takes.' Portia's speech from Act IV of The Merchant
of Venice."
"Yes," Rachel nodded, smiling back, her dimples flashing.
"Though justice be thy plea consider this---that in the
course of justice none of us should see
salvation: we do pray for mercy; and that same prayer
doth teach us all to render the deeds of mercy."
"So you are familiar with the works of the bard Miss
Coleman?"
"Oh yes, I've read...that is, I've seen most of the plays
at least once...when I was in London."
"Really? You know I believe William Shakespeare, though
he's been dead some two and a half centuries now, still
has the power to look into our very souls with his poetry
and tell us more about our selves in a single evening
than most of us are lucky to comprehend in a single
lifetime."
Rachel smiled and raised her wine glass to her lips. "If
you prick us do we not bleed? If you tickle us do we not
laugh? If you poison us do we not die? And if you wrong
us shall we not revenge?"
"Ah yes, Shylock, from The Merchant of Venice again, Act
III, scene I. You have a most remarkable memory Miss
Coleman, for only having seen a play once."
"It was a most memorable experience Mr. Bell."
Harris snorted.
"So are you married Mr. Bell?" Rachel attempted to
discretely inquire, peering past the two men to her left,
craning her neck ever so slightly so as to see the
Englishman's face.
Bell coughed. He seemed caught off guard.
"Why..uh..no I'm not. Never seemed to have found the
right woman I suppose. In my business it is all
accounting and books, schedules and manifests, log
entries, that sort of thing. Shipping takes up an
inordinate amount of my time. And I must say frankly that
the ladies I've met up until now seem far too preoccupied
with balls, frivolities and the like. Not the finer
things in life; music, literature."
"And not Shakespeare?" Rachel inquired coquettishly.
He grinned shyly.
"No, not Shakespeare. Not at all like you Miss Coleman."
"Why thank you sir."
Bell was not given to impetuous acts but the wine and
most of all the intelligence, beauty and charm of Miss
Coleman was having a decidedly exhilarating effect upon
him. He pushed his chair back and wine glass in hand,
rose to exuberantly proclaim, "Gentlemen, I give you Miss
Coleman, the hostess of our evening whose charm, beauty,
grace and good taste are surpassed by none."
Harris, almost quietly snorted, then said, "Sure, why
not?" and likewise rose to his feet, glass in hand.
"Miss Coleman," Harris slurred her name, casting a leer
in her direction. Rachel averted her eyes from his stare,
even as the other three men followed Harris's lead and
rose in toast.
"Miss Coleman!" they all chorused in unison.
As they sat back down, Bell noticed that Rachel seemed
somewhat unnerved by the toast and kept glancing at
Harris. Somewhat unexpectedly she stood up and excused
herself from the table. She began taking up empty plates.
The Englishman was about to rise from his seat, not
wishing to be seated while a lady stood. But just as she
picked up her own plate Harris spoke.
"That won't be necessary Rachel."
Rachel gave him a puzzled look but set down the plates in
a neat stack.
"Then may I at least be excused?"
"You certainly may not. Go stand by the window."
Rachel lowered her eyes, put her plate down, turned and
silently walked to the big bay window that faced the
distant hills beyond the river. Long rays of the
afternoon sun brought a blessed warmth to her pretty face
and delicate hands that had begun to be slightly chilled
by her new master's strange behavior.
She gazed fondly at the horizon where the hills seemed
enveloped in purple shadows. When she was a little girl
this had been her favorite place to play with her dolls
in the afternoon. Then those hills had held the future
promise of a world beyond, a world for her. No more. Ah,
if only she was far, far away from this place. Oh how she
longed for freedom.
"Turn around and face us girl!"
A rude order. Sighing, Rachel turned toward Harris and
his four dinner guests. Brilliant sunlight framed her
lovely shoulder length curly black tresses. Harris
smiled.
"Now Rachel ... take your clothes off...slowly."
What had he said? Take her clothes off? That couldn't be
right. Was she to be sold to one of these men, like a
field hand on the auction block? She had never been sold
before. Hadn't Auntie Nell stipulated in her will that
her niece was never to be sold?
"Are you deaf girl? I said strip! Now! And take your
sweet time about it too."
Rachel's lower jaw began to tremble ever so slightly.
"Please Master Harris, I..." she began, the first sign of
tears welling in her eyes.
"Don't give me any lip girl. Just do it. You don't want
to make me go get my buggy whip now. Do you?"
Rachel's eyes filled with fear. No whip had ever touched
her fine soft brown skin in her entire life. She shook
her head.
"No...please, master. I'll..."
"That is quite enough, sir," the Englishman suddenly
stood up, his voice shaking with indignation. "I will not
be a participant in these barbarities. If this young
lady..."
Harris pivoted in his chair toward the London shipper,
his eyes blazing with anger.
"And you sir, will hold your tongue. You are a guest in
my house as well as my country. If this part of our
little soiree is not to your liking you may take your
leave of my house...as well as my business."
The Englishman's face was beet red with rage and for an
interminably long time he stared hatefully at Harris
until the anger in his faced transformed into humiliated
resignation. Mumbling something that sounded like "my
apologies", he sat back down. Harris smiled triumphantly
and sipped his brandy.
"My apologies as well sir," the plantation owner said
graciously, "for inadvertently leading you astray this
evening. You may have been deceived by this girl's dining
at my table, by her fine dress, her dignified manner of
speech, not to mention her lovely light skin, into
believing you were in the presence of a lady. In fact,
she is my slave. And for this evening she is yours as
well... our slave. Now that we've cleared that up, I
think nothing further need be said on this subject. Let's
enjoy this evening's entertainment and recreation."
Harris turned to Rachel.
"Come on Rachel, show us what we all long to see... more
of that lovely light skin of yours... much more."
Rachel pursed her beautiful sensuous lips. The men were
all a blur to her now as tears were copiously streaming
down her cheeks. Could this really be happening? Her
whole body was trembling. She had never undressed in
front of any man before.
"Please, master," she implored one last time.
"Rachel," Harris intoned softly but expectantly.
All hope of reprieve gone, she cast her eyes to the floor
and bit her lower lip in resignation to her fate. Slowly
she reached behind to begin undoing the buttons on the
back of her dress.
Silence reigned in the room, broken only by the ponderous
ticking of the wall clock and Rachel's soft, pitiful
sniffles. All that the four white men seated at the table
were able to hear was the blood pounding in their heads
and their own increasingly ragged heavy breathing. Their
eyes were now transfixed upon this lovely young Mulatta
beauty that was very soon going to be revealing all her
secret feminine charms to further excite their lust.
Rachel's fingers deftly worked their way up her back; the
buttons popping free one by one. When she reached the
button just below her shoulder blades she had to stop and
bring her right hand around to the front and up over her
shoulder.
She still couldn't reach the middle buttons so she pulled
the dress up toward her neck with her left hand and undid
the top buttons with the right. Finally she reached the
neckline and the dress loosened. Slowly she pulled her
left arm out of its sleeve and then her right. The top of
her dress fell around her waist, exposing her white lace
camisole.
She glanced up at the men. Their jaws were slack, their
mouths gaped open and their stares...their stares seemed
to penetrate her very soul. Desperately, she searched
their faces, hoping for some small token of the sympathy
for her plight that the Englishman had earlier so
gallantly spoke. None was there.
Their vacant eyes only bespoke the same expectant lust,
that of seeing a pretty light skinned black girl strip
naked for their pleasure. The Englishman had at least
turned his back to the proceedings and was staring at the
wall clock.
"Get on with it girl," Harris barked. "I said take your
time, not all day."
Rachel swallowed a lump in her throat and briefly tossed
her head back, exposing her lovely long neck, then
resumed stripping. Bending forward slightly she pushed
the hoop skirt and petticoat down over her shapely hips,
revealing her billowy bloomers. She paused, staring at
the floor. Her camisole and bloomers were all that
remained of her dignity.
"Come on," Harris imperiously demanded, "take off the
rest. Take it all off."
Rachel trembled again as she began undoing the hooks at
the back of the camisole top. As the last hook fell free,
the camisole began sliding off her slender shoulders.
Instinctively she clutched the camisole in front of her
breasts to prevent herself being exposed.
"Drop your arms," Harris ordered.
"Please, master," Rachel pleaded, still sniffling.
"Drop your arms girl and let us have a good long look."
Obediently, Rachel dropped her arms to her side. The
camisole quickly fell to the floor, exposing her naked
from the waist up.
"Damn!" croaked one of the guests in a hoarse, dry
mouthed whisper.
Rachel's tits were perfect. Full, firm and round, they
defiantly stuck straight out from her chest, seemingly
defying gravity. Her quarter-dollar size dark brown
areolae were capped by a pair of inch long cylindrical
nipples, both fully hard.
The pendulum of the wall clock slowly ticked away as the
men greedily devoured this sumptuous visual feast of a
half naked young Mulatta, her pretty face, delicate neck
and shoulders, flat stomach and firm breasts all fully
exposed to view. One of the guests moaned.
"Oh God, I can't stand it anymore. Please tell her to
take it all off. Make her take it off, please."
"Do it Rachel," Harris ordered, his own face red with
lust. "But do it nice and slow. Take your little bloomers
off for us real slow. We want to watch your tits
dangling. And after that, step out of those shoes."
Reaching behind, she ever so slowly undid the few buttons
at the back of her last precious undergarment, then began
inching it down over her hips and her luscious thighs.
Eyes followed the garment on its descent and paused long
to stare at her sparsely haired pussy mound. Rachel let
the bloomers drop to the floor. After that, she easily
stepped out of her loose buckle shoes.
She just stood there trembling, her perfect, beautiful,
brown skinned body completely naked and exposed now to
the gaping stares of these four hot-blooded white men,
their sinful hearts beating with ice cold lust.
The stocky banker whistled long and slow. When he spoke,
his voice squeaked like a rusty hinge.
"Mmm-mmm. Brown sugar. How about giving us all a little
taste there Harris? Your guests haven't had dessert yet
you know."
The railroad president chuckled in agreement.
"In good time sirs, all in good time." Harris admonished.
"Turn around for us Rachel, slowly of course."
Tears still running down her cheeks, Rachel swallowed and
slowly began turning in one place.
She was as perfect from behind as she was in front. Her
fine, firm, heart shaped ass was set off by her long,
slender legs and the two dimples of womanhood at the
bottom of her back.
"Lovely," the railroad president whispered.
"Stop!" Harris ordered. "Just stand right there with your
pretty backside to us."
Rachel was facing the window once more with the last rays
of the setting sun warming her beautiful caf‚ au lait
naked body. Was this the last humiliation she hoped?
Would they be done with her now? Couldn't they just let
her put her clothes on and leave? What had that man said,
something about tasting dessert? Behind her, she heard a
chair squeak against the wood floor. Steps coming toward
her.
"Put your hands behind your back Rachel," Harris ordered.
Rachel moved her hands to the small of her back. As she
did so, Harris withdrew a long pink ribbon from the side
pocket of his vest and gently but securely tied her
thumbs together.
"Learned this from a Chinaman in California," he said
demonstratively as he stepped aside to show his guests
the lovely lightly bound black girl.
"Damn!" said the railroad station master, "That sure is a
pretty ribbon. I'd like to find that present under my
tree for Christmas."
Harris and the lawyer and the banker all laughed
agreeably, but not the Englishman whose gaze was intent
on the glass door of the wall clock, which held a
reflection of Rachel's naked beauty. Guiltily transfixed,
his eyes continuously and ravenously roamed up and down
the reflection of the lovely girl's backside, visually
consuming her hourglass figure, sexy legs and pretty
derriere.
"Turn around Rachel, we're going to feel you up now."
Harris motioned for his guests to come forward as Rachel
turned to face them. Chairs scraped as all but the
Englishman got up and moved toward her. She closed her
eyes and turned her head to the left. Four pairs of hands
began groping her, gently but firmly squeezing her tits,
pulling on her extended nipples, caressing her outer and
inner thighs, grabbing her ass cheeks. Fingers probed her
pussy lips and caressed her virgin hymen.
The banker got down on his knees and seizing her firm
young buttocks with both hands stuck his nose right in
her crotch, inhaling deeply her female scent.
"God, I love the smell of fresh young Mulatta pussy," he
moaned. His tongue flicked out from his mouth and he
pressed it firmly against Rachel's vulva, starting to
lick her still closed labia from the bottom up, from fuck
hole to clit.
Harris was busy stroking and feeling Rachel's legs while
the railroad president and lawyer each firmly cupped a
tit in their hands and began gently sucking on Rachel's
two-inch long nipples.
Rachel kept her eyes shut. These four men molesting her
were disgusting but she couldn't help but notice a
pleasurable electric sensation surging through her whole
body. She began to feel a certain dampness growing in the
space between her legs.
The four horny old white men all took turns squeezing her
ass, sniffing her pussy, licking her labia, sucking her
tits and caressing the silky brown skin, legs and thighs
of their young Mulatta sex slave.
"God, this is the finest Mulatta pussy I ever tasted,"
exclaimed the railroad president, whose tongue was deeply
probing and lapping Rachel's virgin slit.
"Hmmm. Great tits and nipples!" said the bank president
as he gently nibbled on her erect nipple then engulfed
and sucked a larger portion of Rachel's left tit in his
mouth.
Harris gave Rachel's right tit a firm squeeze and was
pleased to see her wince, close her eyes and turn her
head to the left.
"I think its time to try dessert boys," Harris leered as
he produced a red velvet tasseled cushion from a wooden
box. Turning to the Englishman he said, "Mr. Bell, since
you don't seem enthused about our little soiree, you can
wait outside and have a cigar. But I fully expect you to
participate in the second half of our evening
festivities. Otherwise I would have to assume that you
are not really a man. And I only do business with men."
Without even looking at him John Bell stood up and walked
out the kitchen door. Harris sneered at his departure
then turned his attention back to Rachel.
"Kneel!" he commanded, throwing the red velvet cushion on
the floor in front of her. Harris grabbed Rachel's
shoulders and forced her to kneel on the cushion.
He eyed the nervous young Mulatta who was breathing
rapidly.
"Now isn't that a pretty sight boys? Looks like she's
ready to service us, I'd say, wouldn't you?"
He began unbuttoning his fly. The three other men grinned
and likewise began to undo the front of their trousers.
Rachel's eyes widened with fear as the stiff, fully erect
cocks and balls of the four horny old white men sprang
into view.
"Now you're going to suck us all off Rachel. Do you know
what that means?"
Rachel mutely shook her head in fear.
Harris laughed. "Don't worry, you'll learn. Just open
your mouth wide and suck on whatever's in your mouth, but
don't bite. And swallow when I tell you to."
With that he grabbed Rachel's hair with his left hand and
forced his stiff white rod against her pretty lips with
his right. Pre-cum was leaking out the tip of his dick.
"Lick it girl, go ahead and lick it. Have yourself a
little taste of cum. There'll be a lot more for you to
taste and swallow tonight before we're through with you."
Rachel slid the tip of her tongue out between her pretty
African lips and flicked the opening of Harris's white
dick. The pre-cum was sticky and thick and tasted salty.
"Oh God," Harris moaned and pushed his dick past Rachel's
lips and into her mouth.
"Mmmph!" Rachel almost gagged as Harris forced the
throbbing head of his prick toward the back of her
throat.
"Suck Rachel, suck!"
The other men began chanting, "Suck, suck, suck, suck!"
Protecting Harris' dick with her lips, Rachel began
sucking and moving her mouth along the quivering shaft.
Harris kept a firm grip on her shiny black curls as the
pretty Mulatta pleasured him.
"Use your tongue girl, use your tongue!"
Rachel began flicking her tongue along the underside of
Harris' shaft as she bobbed her head back and forth along
its length.
"God," Harris moaned, "You've got a natural born gift
girl. Those lips of yours were just made to wrap around a
white man's cock!"
Harris began slowly thrusting into her mouth as she moved
her head down his shaft. The very thought and feel of
this pretty, bound and naked Mulatta on her knees sucking
his dick was overwhelming.
As Rachel's lips moved down the end of his shaft, Harris
suddenly found that he couldn't contain himself any
longer and exploded inside Rachel's mouth, shooting gobs
of thick white cum in the back of her throat. She almost
gagged as Harris pumped his seed down her throat, but she
turned it to a swallow and swallowed all of his load.
"Ahh, that's it you beautiful brown bitch, suck me dry,
suck it all, swallow all that white hot cum. Swallow it.
Oh you suck so good."
When Rachel had completely sucked and swallowed the last
gob of Harris' cum, he pulled out of her mouth and
motioned the lawyer over to take his place.
"Open wide honey," said the lawyer as he shoved his cock
past Rachel's .pretty lips. Rachel sucked them all off,
one at a time on her knees, with her thumbs tied behind
her back. Each one took his turn shooting his load into
the mouth of the young light skinned black beauty and she
dutifully swallowed every drop.
As the last man buttoned his trousers, Harris spoke.
"Time to take her up stairs for the evening's piece de
resistance, as the
French would say," grabbing Rachel's right arm, he lifted
her up and began walking the barefoot slave girl toward
the stairs that led up to his bedroom. All eyes were
riveted on the twitching of Rachel's sexy ass. Harris
spoke over his shoulder to the three men in the dining
room.
"Tell that Englishman to come in here and wait upstairs
with the rest of you.
He's number two after me."
Licking their lips at the thought of the pleasures that
still lay ahead, the men watched Harris lead Rachel's
sexy naked body slowly up the staircase till she
disappeared from view. Then they went outside to fetch
the Englishman.
The main feature of the bedroom that struck Rachel's eyes
as Harris escorted her inside, was the big brass bed
against the wall. Harris walked her over to the bed and
forced her to sit, then he untied her thumbs.
"Lie back," he ordered, "and stretch your arms out above
your head."
With much trepidation, Rachel did as she was told. Now
Harris secured both of Rachel's wrists securely to the
brass bed with two more longer pink silk ribbons that he
produced from his coat pocket. Taking off his coat and
shirt, he climbed on the bed. Standing, positioned at her
feet, Harris towered over her. Slowly, he unbuttoned his
pants.
As he dropped them his fully erect penis sprang to
attention, vibrating up and down with the surge of blood
flowing through it, totally excited from the sight of
this pretty nubile Mulatta, helpless and bound beneath
his feet and ready to be raped. Rachel's eyes widened
with fear as she realized that the moment had arrived
when Harris was actually going to rape her. 'Please,
please don't rape me," she begged.
Harris only leered and laughed.
"Rachel honey, you're eighteen years old. Its high time
you got deflowered. and broken in. If I had owned you
from the beginning, your virginity wouldn't have lasted
past fourteen. Raping you is just what we're all gonna
do. We're gonna rape and fuck you for the next two days.
You'll be knocked up with a brat when we're through with
you, you hot little Mulatta bitch. I'm gonna enjoy
watching that flat little belly of yours swell with my
seed over the next nine months. Your body was just made
for fucking. And now I'm gonna pop that sweet little
black cherry of yours."
Rachel pulled on her silk bonds to no avail. Keeping her
legs pressed tightly together she began swinging her hips
back and forth across the bed. But Harris was too
powerful. Kneeling, he simply grabbed first her left
ankle and then her right and effortlessly forced her legs
apart, spreading her wide.
"Mmmm-mmm." Harris licked his lips, his eyes riveted on
her fully open and exposed virgin Mulatta pussy, now
revealed in all its glory. Still holding her left ankle,
he reached down and ran the tip of his middle finger up
and down her virgin slit He held his finger to his nose
and sniffed it as he would a fine cigar. Then sucked on
it.
"Young black virgin. Finger lickin' good."
Grabbing her legs with both hands again, he spread her
even wider till her legs were nearly at right angles to
her little body. Keeping her legs spread with his knees,
he positioned his cock at the top of her virgin slit and
began rubbing the head up and down her vulva.
"I've been waiting for this moment to fuck you ever since
I laid eyes on you Rachel. You are one hot little Mulatta
bitch. You're gonna be filled with white cock and cum for
the next two days at least. And then I'm gonna fuck you
every day after that. That smooth flat little belly of
yours is gonna swell up with a light skinned brat real
soon."
With that he positioned the head of his dick over
Rachel's virginal opening and pushed hard. Rachel
screamed with the pain as Harris's hard white cock
ruthlessly violated her, ripping open her tender young
flesh. Blood spurted from her opening. He was inside! His
cock was buried inside this lovely young Mulatta slave
girl. He had popped her little black cherry. The blood
from her torn hymen provided some lubrication as he
insistently pushed his cock forward, deeper into her
virgin fuck hole. God was she tight!
He loved to rape helpless young Negresses and mulattos.
The tight feel of a young black pussy, not yet fully wet,
was incredible. He grinned as he watched the pained
reactions on Rachel's face The slightest move of his cock
inside her tight, hot little pussy made her grimace with
pain. Deeper and deeper he thrust inside her. She just
kept tossing her head from side to side with every
thrust, making little noises, she kept repeating "No, no,
please." Her pain and humiliation was his pleasure.
But now her body began to take over from her mind and her
pussy began to lubricate, facilitating the entry of his
cock deeper and deeper into her vagina. He loved it. She
was the best pussy he had ever had.
***
John Bell coughed and glanced nervously at the banker and
railroad man, who were both blowing big billowing clouds
of cigar smoke as they sat in the hallway outside the
master bedroom, waiting their turn with Rachel. Harris
had been in there a long time.
John hadn't even bothered to glance at his pocket watch.
Ever since that moment of truth downstairs, when he had
decided to stay and do nothing about the degradation and
rape of this pretty Mulatta, nay more, to actually
participate in it, time had seemed to stand still for the
Englishman.
Was he really going to do this? Was he actually going to
participate in the gang rape of this innocent lovely
young girl? The chivalrous gentleman in him told him it
was all wrong, that he should go to his room, take out
the two Colt Navy revolvers and kill these men. Then he
would kick in the bedroom door, kill Harris and rescue
this fair damsel in distress, spiriting her away to
England and freedom with him.
But another part of him, the darker side, realized it was
impossible. He'd never make it out of the county, let
alone the state of Virginia. And after all, he had never
killed anyone in his life. He'd never even fired a shot.
He was a coward. That was clear to him from the moment he
had let Harris back him down. All because the shipping
business was on the shoals of disaster and he needed the
money.
Deeper from within himself, from the innermost depths of
his being, another even more sinister voice told him that
he would never have a chance like this again, to fuck a
pretty black girl, the very object of sexual desire. A
chance to pleasure himself to the fullest. His face
flushed with the thought of her sexy brown body writhing
beneath him as he thrust deeper and deeper into her to
deposit his seed.
No! It was all wrong. How could he even think such a
thing? He wasn't an animal like these men. If she were to
give herself willingly to him that would be one thing.
But to rape someone, especially Miss Coleman, that
charming beauty that knew London and Paris and enjoyed
Shakespeare, the girl that he not an hour ago had toasted
at dinner, someone these men should be on their knees
worshiping?
No he would not do it. He had been raised an Englishman
and a gentleman. If there was any code of chivalry left
in the world, its first article was surely protection of
the weak and the helpless. If ever he had needed evidence
that slavery was wrong, wrong, wrong, then surely this
was it. In a way he had been enslaved as well. His morals
had been enslaved by Harris and men like him with chains
of gold that dragged him into participation in their evil
world.
When he thought about it clearly, what did his business,
his very life itself count for if he was to become a
creature completely enslaved to the likes of William
Harris? What he had to do to free himself was crystal
clear. He would rescue Miss Coleman, even if it should
cost him his life.
A plaintive female cry, a mixture of pain, pleasure and
despair burst from the bedroom, followed by a whimpering
"No! Please, please, no."
The two men seated across from him had immediately cocked
their heads towards the door. They looked at each other
and at John, lasciviously grinning and chuckling. The
banker smiled and cocked an eyebrow at the Englishman.
"She's a hot one all right! And you're next you lucky
devil! Of course sloppy seconds are better than thirds."
"Or fourths," the railroad president chimed in.
John stared at the two men, trying to visualize how their
faces might appear if a minnie ball from one of the Navy
revolvers he had given Harris were to suddenly penetrate
their besotted skulls. Smiling, he gave them his best
English charm.
"Perhaps you gentlemen would be so kind as to take my
place? My digestion has been most disagreeable ever since
dinner. The candied yams have been battling the ham and
asparagus in a fierce onslaught which is now approaching
its denouement. I fear I must relieve myself of both
combatants post haste."
The two men gaped at him in silence.
"You saying you gotta use the outhouse?" the railroad
president finally surmised.
"Yes, that's it exactly. Would you be so kind as to point
me in the proper direction?"
"Down the stairs, through the kitchen and straight out
the back," smirked the banker.
"Thank you," John replied, rising and quickly making his
way down the hall towards the stairs.
"Don't hurry back," laughed the railroad owner, "More for
the rest of us!"
Harris was pumping Rachel fast and hard. Her pussy was
hot and juicy now, her body's female sexual instincts
having overruled her mind, naturally responding to the
presence of Harris' cock buried up to the hilt in her
sweet little black twat. She was still tossing her head
back and forth and saying, "No, no, no!" but the "no's"
weren't very forceful. Her intonation sounded more like
she meant "Please don't stop."
Harris felt young, strong and vigorous as he deeply
thrust his engorged white penis repeatedly into the young
Mulatta sex goddess, using Rachel's helpless little body
to wantonly satisfy his own white animal lusts.
Finally, he couldn't hold back any longer and pumped what
seemed like a gallon of his white hot seed into her
steaming little pussy, splattering it deep inside close
to the entrance of her virginal womb. His whole body
shuddered with orgasmic release and he uttered mindless
animal cries and grunts. He was nothing but an orgasmic
ejaculation of semen and sperm. Finally, he subsided.
Harris left his dick buried inside her pussy and just lay
on top of her for a long time. Finally he slowly slipped
out of her, got up, put on his trousers and opened the
door to the hallway.
"Where's the Englishman?" he asked.
"Went to the outhouse, weak stomach," snickered the
banker.
"Well, no sense in waiting around for him. Let's all do
her together at once."
"All at one time?" said the banker, who seemed
particularly puzzled by the concept, the prisoner of a
limited imagination.
"Sure, she'll take us all on. One of us will fuck her,
while she sucks another one and works the other two with
those sweet little hands of hers. Then we'll all take
turns and just keep moving around till we've all had a
chance to cum in her pussy and mouth at least once."
"Sounds great to me" slurred the railroad president,
"Let's do it!"
"Harris my boy," exclaimed the lawyer, "you throw the
best soiree's in the state of Virginia. No, I take that
back, of the whole South! And this is the best ever. Why
when she was sitting at the table this evening I had no
idea that we'd all be fucking her. What a surprise!"
"Yeah, especially for her!" sniggered the railroad
president.
They filed into the room. Rachel just lay there on the
bed, her hands still tied to the bed posts, her legs
splayed wide and her dark silken pussy lips open, fully
exposing her juicy, wet, dripping, pink twat, freshly
deflowered and leaking white driblets of her cum mixed
with Harris's seed.
Her eyes grew wide with fear as she saw the four white
men lusting over her totally exposed and helpless
beautiful brown body.
"Oh God," moaned the banker, "she's ready for rape. Let's
stick her real good."
"I'm gonna ram it to her, all the way in," chorused the
lawyer. "That baby's gonna look like me."
"Hell, maybe she'll have twins, or triplets or even
quintuplets and the babies will look like all of us!" the
railroad president quipped as he began to take off his
trousers, leering at the frightened helpless slave girl.
"We're gonna fuck your brains out honey. Your pretty
little black pussy will be real sore by the time we're
through with you. You're gonna be crammed full of white
cock and cum tonight. We're gonna make that flat brown
belly of yours swell up like a balloon with a mess of
light skinned babies, yes sirree! Mmmm-mmmm!"
They all laughed and took their clothes off. Rachel
writhed and pressed her thighs together as they began
stroking their cocks.
"Are you ready to be raped Rachel?" Harris asked.
"No! No! Please don't rape me again! Please! I don't want
to get pregnant."
"You might as well face it Rachel," Harris said as he
once more knelt on the bed and seized Rachel's slender
ankles, spreading her even wider than before. "Pretty
little mulattoes like you were made for breeding. Just be
glad I'm keeping you for myself and not selling you to a
whore house." With that Harris violently entered her for
the second time that evening, except this time her cunt
was sloppy and wet and seemed to almost eagerly accept
the intrusion of his thick white baby-maker.
Rachel gave another plaintive cry as her white master
entered her. She felt her wrists being grabbed as the
railroad president and banker placed her little hands
around their members. The lawyer knelt next to her face,
grabbed her gorgeous black curls and turning her head,
thrust his cock past her sensuous think lips and into her
mouth.
"Mmmmph!" was the only sound that escaped her as her
mouth was once more filled with white cock.
Rachel now had a white cock in her mouth, a white cock in
her pussy and a white cock in each hand. Her body seemed
all motion as she frantically worked the railroad
president and banker in her hands and sucked off the
lawyer while Harris kept ramming her poor ravaged pretty
little pussy with his thick prick, desperate to plant
more of his white baby making seed close to the lovely
Mulatta sex goddess' unprotected womb. She had become
nothing more than a black sex slave receptacle for white
cock and cum.
One by one, they all took turns cumming in Rachel's mouth
and pussy. They took seconds on her, then thirds and
fourths. Having this beautiful bound Mulatta sex goddess
at their mercy seemed to make them all into inexhaustible
well springs of white hot semen. They shot load after
load of cum into Rachel's ravished pussy and down her
throat.
She swallowed load after load of their thick sticky
sperm. As if with a will of its own, her pussy repeatedly
contracted, milking every white cock that entered her for
every thick drop of baby making seed. She found herself
desperately, mindlessly wrapping her legs around the
buttocks of whoever was pumping her full at the moment,
longing for deeper penetration by the white pricks.
Losing all inhibitions she began shamelessly cumming in
wave after wave of noisy, panting, moaning orgasm, her
pussy gushing, spilling out onto the bed sheets, easing
the passage of yet more white cocks inside her, helping
the white hot sperm swim up her love canal toward her
waiting unprotected womb. She was a beautiful brown
Mulatta sex slave slut. A young black love slave destined
to be ravished by white men's cocks and impregnated with
white men's seed.
She accepted it willingly. She loved it. She wanted more
and more. She was insatiable to be filled up with light
skinned babies inside of her now. She moaned loudly and
long as another white cock gushed sperm inside her. She
didn't know who it was this time, she no longer cared.
She only knew that she wanted more and more white cock
and cum inside her, to be completely used and fucked and
impregnated by these horny old white men. She was an
insatiable black sex slave.
Bell crept up the stairs, pistols in hand. The noises
from the bedroom had subsided. He walked forcefully
toward the door and kicked it in. Harris and the others,
just putting on their clothes jumped. Rachel, still tied
to the bed, screamed.
Bell leveled a pistol at Harris' chest.
"No!" Rachel implored, "Please don't kill them."
John took his rage filled eyes off the four naked
creatures for a moment and glanced down into Rachel's
tear stained face.
"Rain falling from heaven? For them?" he whispered.
"No...I don't know," she sobbed, "Just don't kill them."
"Very well." John Bell's eyes narrowed to slits as he
stared at his captives His voice quaked with rage as he
spoke.
"You scum owe your lives to this young lady whom you have
so wrongfully humiliated and violated this night. If it
were up to me I would shoot you down like the dogs that
you are. Thank your lucky stars that I obey her.
But if you 'gentlemen' fail to obey my every instruction,
you will wake up in hell tomorrow with your stomachs
filled with lead. Do you understand?"
The four men nodded mutely.
"Now untie her, and give her clothes back."
After complying, Bell ordered the men to sit on the
floor, while Rachel tied their hands and feet.
"You'll never make it out of the state, Englishman.
You're not only ruined financially, you're as good as
dead." Harris shouted.
"We'll see," Bell replied as he backed out the door with
Rachel and locked it.
They took two horses from the barn, saddled them and
headed north into the night. Over the next several weeks,
as they hid out in hidden rooms of the barns and cellars
of the Underground Railroad, Bell and Rachel made
passionate love all the way to Canada. By the time they
arrived in England, Rachel was with child. In the spring
she gave birth to a beautiful light skinned baby girl.
John wasn't sure if it was his or one of Rachel's
violators, but he didn't care. He loved her. And they
would make many more babies besides.
END
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Kristen's collection - Directory 23