EXTRACT FOR
Brown Mistress
(Author Unknown)

Chapter 1

    

    "So you really think you're ready for a bed wench, sonny boy?"

    It hadn't been easy for Ben to ask.  His father was usually a stern man not easily amenable to such sordid realities. Ben's request had left him red faced and severely embarrassed.  It wasn't every day that you could go to your pa and ask him to purchase you a lovely wench straight from the slave auction market.

    He'd deliberately waited for his old man to be in a good mood.  The right honourable Edward T. Hunter had just won a sizable wager on the annual county horse race.  Ed's pinto had performed magnificently beating the runner up by three lengths. Gentlemen dressed in fine broad cloth and sporting ornately adorned walking sticks offered their most heartfelt congratulations.  Even  some of the black grooms were permitted to shake the right honourable Edward T. Hunter's white gloved hand. His father was actually smiling!  No doubt about  it. Now was the time.

    So he'd asked, "Pa can I have a word with you privately?"

    Edward was laughing, "Of course!" He actually slapped Ben on the back, a very unusual gesture for the normally taciturn man with the hazel eyes and the thin, greying hair. Edward might be fifty but he was still a prim and proper gentleman in good health and good spirits.  As they turned the corner to the carriage house Edward asked, "So what is it that needs my undivided attention?"

    "Well pa, I was talkin' to Tom Haskins the other day."

    Edward raised his brows in obvious question and amusement.  "Go on."

    "Well he told me that his pa recently bought him a bed wench and well the female slaves on our plantation are either too young or too old and...."

    Edward looked for a long time at his son.  He could still see the boy inside the man or was it the other way around. There Ben stood not three feet away in his freshly washed broad cloth waistcoat and white britches.  Ben definitely had his mother's expressive blue eyes and it looked like he would surpass Edward soon in stature. It almost looked like Ben had a halo as his fair hair swirled a bit from the breeze and shimmered in the late morning Georgia sun.  His boy had grown up and he'd hardly noticed with all his business in and off the plantation. He moved his hand over his lightly bearded chin and finally nodded.  "Well maybe you are old enough at that.  Hell if Haskins can have one I guess you can. He's a year younger than you at that.  But say nothin' about this to your ma and for heaven's sake be discrete about it!"

    Ben's heart jumped.  He couldn't believe his good luck. Pa was going to buy him a lusty   black wench that he could take all for himself, any time he wanted.  Tom liked to brag about some of the naughty things he did to his own bought whore.  That's what Tom liked to call his wench. Ben grinned at his pa as if he'd just been given a free trip to London or been handed a bag full of gold coins.

    

***

    

    Savannah had its nice upper crust neighbourhoods, its lower quarter, its business district; its warehouses and the slave hold area.  Every so often a ship would sail in from the Africas to unload rare wood, exotic animal pelts and black gold otherwise known as human slaves.  The auctioneers would loudly proclaim that they had a new supply of high quality servants, straight from the steamy jungles of the Dark Continent.  They called it dark because so little was known about that mysterious region that few white men had ever seen.  The pigment of the native's skin was an accidental coincidence.  Sometimes as many as 150 men and women would stagger down the gangway only to be herded into the row of special warehouses designed to store this human cattle until such time as they were sold to various plantations in or near Savannah.  

    However, quite often there were slaves available from existing plantations as well. If a slave was a trouble maker he might be sold to another plantation and usually get some serious attitude adjustment in the bargain.  Other times an owner might need liquid cash and take a few darkies off the fields and put them on the block. It didn't matter if these unfortunates had relatives or not and it was perhaps the cruellest punishment for a slave to be sold away from his friends and family.  Many times a black servant would beg to be flogged rather than sold off but if the master needed money such pleas usually fell on deaf ears. 

    There were masters and then there was Cyrus Hawker.  Most slave holders valued their "servants" as they so euphemistically called their property. After all slaves cost a lot of money or a large chunk of the crop to obtain.  But Cyrus didn't care a whit. His favourite saying was, "Work 'em til they drop!"  It was probably the only plantation in or near Savannah where the average slave prayed daily to be sold away from the place.  Every man and woman trembled in fear when Cyrus sniffed around, making sure the overseer was doing his job and every last leaf of tobacco was cut, harvested and packed. When there wasn't field work to do, he had them improve the irrigation ditches or make better fences.  He was almost as tough on his son, Jacob as the black persons that had the misfortune of working for this local, tiny minded tyrant. Of course, Cyrus eventually noticed Jacob noticing a particularly striking brown skinned wench and sure enough before you could say, "Likety split!"  Maggie was shipped off to Jack Hallstead's auction house, forth with. No son of Cyrus Clarkson Hawker was going to be permitted to consort with any low life   black! If nothing else Cyrus Hawker was a God fearing Christian and so was his damned son by Jehovah's beard!  He'd given Jacob what for and then some additional parental instruction with a long hickory stick to his wayward son's ass. There wasn't any way anyone was going to bring scandal to the Hawker name, by God. Besides he wanted a good match for his no account son and he'd make sure that whatever young high-faluting lass tied the knot with Jacob, she'd be getting a pure, unsullied man or his name wasn't Cyrus Clarkson Hawker by God! 

    This all meant absolutely nothing to Maggie as she sat on the dusty floor of the auction ware house, penned up like all the others. The place stank of human sweat and various forms of filth. Once a day the guards would enter and clean the place out.  At least the slaves were provided buckets to defecate in but the stench was so bad it could be felt.  As for privacy, there was none. The entire scene resembled an animal pen.  Well at least she'd gotten out of Massa Hawker's clutches.  There weren't no way, no how a new Massa could be any worsen, she thought to herself. At least she was able to get some rest here and the food, although simple was adequate. Hours stretched into days as she waited for her new life, whatever that would be.  At least mama was dead now and she wouldn't have to worry about her little Maggie.

    

***

    

    Ben was sitting beside his father in an open buggy pulled by two strong mares.  Edward was excellent with the whip and he controlled the two horses perfectly without any conscious effort.  "We're goin' to see Jack Hallstead this morning, Ben.  I hear he has a few handsome wenches available and I've got some extra money from that wager that I won."

    Ben grinned, "You think he'll have many?"

    "Well they gotta be the right age and they gotta be clean.  This ain't no time to get no pox or anything else.  So I'll help you inspect the most likely ones."

    Jack Hallstead was a tall, thin man about forty. His hair was sandy grey and his lips were thin and cruel looking when he grimaced.  His cool grey eyes missed nothing from the probable value of a darky to the cost of silk versus muslin.  He didn't even bat an eyelash when old man Hunter strolled into his office this fine August morning and calmly asked him if he had any likely wenches for Ben.  Jack could see why Ben might need a wench. The kid was tall almost up to his old man now.  He had broad shoulders and beamed with health and vitality.  If Ben had been black the auctioneer mentally calculated he could have easily gotten a thousand dollars for him on a rainy day. 

    "I think I have a few good wenches Mr. Hunter.  It's best if I bring them here for your inspection.  You wouldn't like the smell back there.  You can have some tea while I'm gone and there's some newspapers you can read including one from New York. It's nice to know what they're doin' up in Philadelphia these days."  

    Perhaps a quarter hour later the rear door opened and Jack led three young black women into the office followed by a heavy set guard.  Ben's eyes almost popped out of his skull. The three candidates were as bare as the day they were born.  Edward and Ben stood up and got closer.

    Jack pointed to the one at the far right.  "This here is Maggie, she be from Hawker's plantation.  Looks like Ben's interested."  Jack laughed as he pulled Maggie forward.  "Now as you can clearly see gentlemen, she is firm of flesh with nice strong legs and wide hips.  She'll produce a whole parcel of pick ninnies just for you.  Go ahead Ben, why don't you come closer and give her a careful inspection?"

    Maggie was a bit lighter in complexion than the other two.  Apparently she'd had some white blood somewhere in her ancestry.  Her cheek bones were surprisingly high and her lips weren't as thick as the other wenches.  With a trembling hand he carefully touched Maggie's plump breast.  The nipple instantly stiffened.  Ben experimentally squeezed the firm softness.  All Maggie did was breathe slightly faster.  

    Jack pried Maggie's mouth open, "here boy, just look at those teeth!  She's got all of them and they be in perfect condition.  She be a well put together black bitch. You'll just love putting it to her I warrant."  

    Ben's face flushed but he continued to feel around, marveling at the flat belly and the warmth of Maggie's young body. Then Ben met Maggie's eyes.  If was like an electric current passed from one to the other.  Even Jacob never had stared into her eyes like that before.  He'd been ashamed to show feeling for her but this white boy was different somehow. Unlike jack and Cyrus there was no hatred or callousness in those gleaming blue eyes. They were so lovely, reminding her of the blue summer heaven.  She felt his fingers gently flick over her sex and momentarily enter her.  Maggie smiled at him when he tickled her mischievously.

    They inspected the other two but Ben was hooked.  "Pa I do believe Maggie will be acceptable."

    Jack almost split his gizzard holding back from laughing.  This young upstart wanted to stud that hot bitch to kingdom come. Everyone including the wench knew it and the little hypocrite was making it sound like he was picking out a seamstress or something.

    Edward asked, "Apart from the obvious, what is the wench good for?"  That was the right honourable Edward Hunter for you.  As usual he was the practical businessman to the last. He sure as hell wasn't going to pay a lot of money for a wench just for Ben's bed sport.

    "Well she's pretty good at cooking I've been told. She's been a house nigger for Cyrus.  I expect she's good at cleaning to."

    Jack went on while the other two wenches were removed.  As the two men haggled over price, Ben kept looking at the naked wench that stood, calmly erect in front of the admiring audience.

    Maggie knew there was nothing to be done about it.  Her clothes such as they were would be brought to her when they were ready to take her.  She could see from Ben's eyes that he wanted her and the prospect made her pussy twitch a little with moist heat. This was sure better than getting whipped by Cyrus or his disgusting overseer, Quintal.  Maggie witnessed that fat slob, Mr. Quintal do it on many occasions.  They'd oil up that old bull whip and crack it on some poor bastard's back six times for a minor offense and a lot more for something bad.  Once, a buck by the name of Hector tried to escape. Two days later the catchers brought him in. That poor boy was almost killed by Massa. Twenty lashes and that boy was out of action for a week. Hector never tried to run away again. Well she'd make the best of it. She always had even when ma passed on a few years past.  Her ma Annie got some fever and she just couldn't outlast it.  Annie died in a rickety shack with a dirt floor while rats chittered in the corner. The other niggers quickly dug a hole. Cyrus spoke a few words and then they'd thrown the body in and buried it without even a grave marker. The entire ceremony if you could call it that took fifteen minutes and then it was "back to work bitch!"  The memory receded and Maggie came back to the all-important present.  Well it was time to feather her nest as best she could.  The completely naked slave girl gave Ben a very inviting grin while the others were arguing.  The younger Hunter thought his cock would burst when she licked her lips suggestively at him.  

    Jack and Edward were old acquaintances.  They enjoyed the art of haggle and bargain. It was one of the few ways men could trade insults without resorting to pistols or recriminations. After all, business was business and if money wasn't a God it was damned close.  

    "What are you sayin' Mr. Hunter?  The wench is worth double that!  My God man, look at that firm ass of hers and those long, strong legs! Christ I could get six hundred for her and no mistake!"

    "Jack, Jack! Its Edward Hunter you're talkin' to!  Sure she's a handsome wench but she ain't gonna be picking much tobacco I'll be bound.  And she sure as hell ain't gonna be raisin' the dead neither!  I've seen wenches just as well formed and young go for four hundred dollars and no mistake!"

    "Yeah but there was a rain storm that day and the bidder was a profligate Jew!"

    "You old sinner, Jack! It was a tight fisted Scotsman and it weren't a storm, it was just a drizzle!"

    And so it went until at last, Maggie's services were permanently obtained for four hundred and twenty five dollars.  Half was in cash from the winnings of the horse race and the other half was pledged from the next crop.  Jack wrote down some numbers on the account and Ben was inwardly jubilant!  He had his pretty, pussy piece.

    

***

    

    Alice Hunter was the mistress of Raven Wood, the plantation that she'd shared with Edward for many years as his wife.  Now it was true that the field niggers feared Massa Edward and Massa Roger who was the plantation overseer but the house servants were in constant trepidation under the cool, blue eyed gaze of Lady Alice. She was nobody's fool. After so many years running the household, she knew every trick in the book and probably a few the darkies hadn't even thought of yet.  

    Ben's formidable mother knew something was in the wind by the way the niggers were whispering just out of earshot and the odd glances he got from her husband and Ben.  Yet Alice believed that cleanliness is next to Godliness and when she got one whiff of the new addition to the house servant staff she hissed, "Give that new nigger a bath right quick.  Christ she smells like a pig sty!  I hope you didn't pay too much for this creature!"  

    Ben's older brother Clay was up in Philadelphia working as an assistant to Sam Rutledge. They were making something called the constitution or some such. Alice didn't know anything about it. All she was glad of was that they'd won their independence and they didn't have to pay taxes to bloody, fat George anymore. Now they had to pay taxes to a bunch of no account lawyers nearby, but at least they were home bred crooks and not foreign crooks.  Alice was old enough to know that politics was a dirty business, perhaps even dirtier than the thriving slave trade and that definitely was saying something. Those politicians brought new meaning to being all things to all men.  So now there was a new, young house wench to help out with cooking and chores and what else?  Alice kept her mouth shut and her eyes and ears open. If Edward had purchased that wench for what she suspected he might have, she would give him one good going over.  Alice was half Scot and occasionally her temper could become volcanic. It didn't happen often but when it did, certain persons like Edward Hunter better watch out!  

    Maggie was given much better clothes. In fact the old ones were so dirty and thread bare they were simply burned. The bath was heavenly.  She'd never smelled so good and they'd even given her soap!  She'd heard of soap but now her skin tingled with being really clean!  She'd never had a bath at Hawker's.  A dip in cold river water was about as good as it got.  They had a private room for the bath to so she didn't have to reveal her nakedness to anyone except another black woman who helped her with getting the water and later, drying her off.

    After supper one of the older slave women called Rosy whispered in Maggie's ear, "You best gets up to Massa Ben's room now honey.  You keep real quiet and gets you into his bed and wait.  I'll show you where Massa's room be.  You best leave him real early in the mornin'.  Alice is watchin' like a hawk."

    Maggie said nothing.  She nodded and followed Rosy to the top floor. At the back end of the house on the right was Ben's room.  Maggie slipped inside as Rosy quietly shut the door behind her.  The new Raven Wood servant looked around.  It was a pleasant room with the light of sundown throwing a golden hew over the furnishings. The rug was woven in an intricate design that was totally unfamiliar to her.  She recognized the bed but it was so much grander and comfortable looking than any bed she'd ever seen.  There was a large roll top desk with the top open and a myriad of pigeon holes filled with various papers and other things.  She walked over to the wooden closet and curiously looked inside.  She admired the lovely, stylish clothing that the master owned.  All were made of the finest quality broad cloth or linen.  There were silk waste bands and starched collars with fancy ruffles sitting on a shelf on one side.  At the bottom were three pairs of leather boots.  The room even smelled male.  Beside the ward robe was a sturdy dresser with a tri-corn lying on top along with a few brushes and combs. Over in another corner were a clean chamber pot and a wash stand where he would clean up in the mornings. Her dark brown eyes rested on a strange glassy surface.  Suddenly she saw an image. It looked like a young black woman with long lustrous black hair, very dark brown eyes and a perfect, brown complexion.  When Maggie moved her hand the girl in the glass imitated the action. She'd never seen anything like it before except the few times she looked at herself in a pool of water or the nearby river.  Her dress was simple although it did go almost down to the ankles.  It was light brown in colour, very drab and obviously a hand me down. But it was a lot better than the pathetic dress she'd had to wear over at Massa Cyrus's place. The girl smiled at herself in the mirror one last time and she winked at herself.  "You ain't bad lookin' Maggie girl. I bet Massa Ben gonna love doin' some Tom Cattin' with you real soon. "

    Of course there were books but she didn't know how to read so they were of no interest to her.  Rosy had mentioned that she should get on the bed so she sat on it and waited.  Her pussy was starting to itch a little anticipating what her new, handsome young Massa was probably going to be doing with her soon, very soon.  It was sure a lot nicer here than at old Cyrus's place.  The young wench decided to make the best of things here.

    The room became dark and still she waited.  Maggie was tired from the ordeal at the warehouse. It had been days since she'd slept in any kind of a bed and this bed was sure a hell of a lot more comfortable than anything she'd ever lain on before.  She finally succumbed to fatigue and lay back, resting her head on the gloriously soft pillow.  For a few moments it felt like Maggie was floating on clouds. This comforting bed was heaven on earth to her,  wafting her to gentle sleep.