The Plantation Trilogy (Interracial Erotica Bundle) E-Book

Trevon Carter

• Herausgeber: PEAR Stories
• Kategorie: Erotik
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2014

Beschreibung

When a white slave owner's wife decides to spend the night with three black slaves, the entire area is changed to crave big black men... This hot bundle pulls together the Plantation 1, 2 and 3 into one extremely hot trilogy.

The Plantation

Samson is a slave to a brutal and unfaithful plantation owner. When he prevents his owner from slapping his beautiful white wife, he is punished badly. Susan, the owner's wife is compelled to help Samson while at the same time getting revenge on her cheating husband. She locks herself up in a barn with Samson and two black slaves as a way of showing gratitude. Can she handle 3 big black slaves?

Warning! This 11,130 word erotic story contains explicit scenes of three big black males and one white female and includes: double penetration, triple penetration, anal creampies, creampies and impregnation and more as Susan uses every part of her body to thank the big black slaves for their service.

The Plantation II

Anne Meckling and her husband, Bill are plantation owners next to another plantation owned by Susan and John. When the two couples head out to an auction to buy more plantation workers, Susan lets her friend in on a little secret... she's seen the magnificent rod of not just one black man, but three. Anne is shocked and surprised that her neighbor, and more importantly her friend has not only seen one of her worker's manhood but she's gone a few steps further with three of them. Anne warns Susan of the dangers of her actions and heads back home with her husband after buying 4 new workers for the plantation.

On her ride there, a voice whispers to her, the black man's curse. Unbeknownst to Anne, Susan had blamed another worker to protect the three black men she had experienced. As he was led away, he laid a curse on the lands, claiming that all the plantation owners' wives will crave their black workers. When Anne arrives home, the curse slowly takes over her until she can no longer hold it in. She heads out to the small farm holding their 4 newly bought big black workers.

Once there, she has quite the encounter and an experience she would never be able to have with her husband. But is her insatiable hunger a match for the never ending endurance of the 4 big black men?

The Plantation III

Susan and Anne have both experienced the power of their big black slaves, but as a drought hits the South, their husbands are constantly at home. When Susan visits Anne, the two begin talking about the feelings of pleasure they experienced and soon realize that they both crave more. The two devise a plan to use a small secluded area owned by Anne's husband to bring their slaves and have a bit of a party on their own.

Both white wives agree to bring four of their strongest black slaves and share them between each other to experience pleasure beyond their wildest imaginations. Before their pleasures get the best of them, they need to make sure their plan is airtight, with no room for error. Can the two white wives get their favorite black slaves away for an intense night of passion?

Leseprobe

The Plantation Trilogy

By Trevon Carter

Table of Contents

The Plantation

The Plantation II: The Black Man’s Curse

The Plantation III: The White Wives’ Burden

About the Author

The Plantation

A sharp, loud, crack filled the air; the taskmaster's whip slicing through the hot, dry air.  Samson ducked and looked over at the old white man, high atop his white steed.  It was a warning shot, aimed at one of the older slaves who had slowed down.

"Come on now nigger!  I ain't seein' you pick!  You best hurry yo damn nigger ass up before I beat you!"  The taskmaster shouted with his overpowering, thick Southern accent.

The older black man nodded and began picking at the cotton in front of him faster.  Samson wanted to jump on the white man and beat him to a pulp.  It took everything he had not to. 

Samson was a huge hulking figure of a man.  Years of working on different plantations had sculpted his body into a mountain of muscle.  Genetics had allowed him to be larger than most others, towering well over six feet.  One swing with his powerful right arm would've sent the taskmaster flying.

"What you want nigger?  You glarin' at me boy?"  The taskmaster questioned as he stared at Samson.

"No sir, nothin' to it sir.  I was just wonderin' if maybe you might wanna rest in that shade over yonder.  It's mighty hot out here," Samson replied.

"Y'know what, you're right.  Fuck this damn heat.  I want you to keep this old nigger in line while I rest, ya hear?"  The taskmaster ordered.

"Yes sir," Samson replied.

The white man cracked his whip in the air once more before heading towards the shade.  Samson walked over to the older black man and shifted some of the cotton in his own bin over to the older man’s.

“Praise the Lord for your soul,” the old man said.

“Just stay quiet and stay low old man.  You gotta watch your health,” Samson replied.

The old man nodded and shook Samson’s hand.  Samson smiled and then headed back to his part of the field.  The taskmaster was oblivious as he was too busy lying down on the ground, placing his hat over his face.  Samson imagined himself sneaking up the smaller white man and crushing him with his bare hands.

“Massa John comin’ through!”  A black man on a brown horse yelled.

Samson turned to see, in his eyes, a traitor.  He was a black man, well liked by the master of the plantation.  He had turned on his own men; ratting them out every chance that he had.  Many men were whipped because of the traitor, while he himself became a nigger taskmaster.

“It’s that damn nigga Rufus,” Samson whispered.

“Motha fucka, if I was younger, I would’ve beat the shit outta that nigga,” the old man whispered back.

“He’ll get his,” Samson replied.

Behind him was an older white man wearing a large white hat.  He had a large cigar in his mouth and he barely met eyes with any of the slaves.  He was Master John Smith, the owner of this particular plantation.  He was a cold, ruthless owner who wasn’t afraid to teach niggers a lesson and, at times, even put his fellow white men under his heel.

“Down boy.  Let these niggers do their work,” John said.

Rufus nodded meekly and then looked back at the other slaves.  He glared at Samson momentarily before looking over at the others.  John glanced over at the slaves, his eyes glazing over the male slaves.  Samson noticed John pause as he saw a younger black woman in the fields.

“Who’s that nigger over yonder?”  John questioned.

“That bitch?  That’s Latifa, she’s just recently celebrated her adulthood,” Rufus responded.

“Oh... my, my, my, I remember Latifa.  She’s grown into quite the... lady.  I’ll have to pay a little visit tonight,” John remarked with a sly grin.

Samson lightly shook his head and continued picking cotton.  Master John was an extremely abusive man, having to remorse over beating his slaves.  He was also quite the adulterer and enjoyed spending time with female slaves, especially the younger nubile ones.  Even the woman they had given Samson as his so called ‘wife’ was once the plantation owner’s plaything when she was younger.

Samson looked over at the large house centered at the edge of plains to see John’s wife make her way out.  She was a beautiful blonde Southern belle, wearing a light blue dress and a straw sun hat.  Samson couldn’t believe that she was a mother of three children, but alas, she indeed was a mother of two sons and one daughter.

“John!”  She called out.

John smiled and waved at her.  He sped up slightly to reach her before hopping off of his horse.  He gave her a big hug as his three children ran out of the house.  Samson grunted and continued his work.  The taskmaster snuck back into the fields on his horse and smacked Samson from behind.

“Damnit nigger!  If John comes back, you’re supposed to wake me up!”  He shouted angrily.

Samson turned and looked up at the older white man, his cowboy hat hiding his balding head.  He wanted to grab his leg and pull him down, and then beat him to a bloody pulp.  His blood boiled as he tried to calm himself.

“I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t mean to, sir,” Samson apologized while lowering himself.

“Fucking nigger, you better be lucky I don’t whip your damn skin off,” the taskmaster replied.

He cracked his whip at the air, causing Samson to tremble.  The taskmaster grinned and rode off towards Rufus.  He smacked him on the back of the head and headed towards the plantation owner.

“Fucker,” Samson whispered under his breath.

Samson continued picking at his section, grabbing as much cotton as he could.  The sharp thorns constantly picked at the palms of his hands.  The glaring sun beat down on his chiseled body, covering his muscles in glistening sweat.

For a brief moment, he met eyes with the owner’s wife.  With his shirt off, even at the great distance, she could see his powerful body black body glisten.  He grinned and continued picking cotton.  There had been moments where he had caught her eyeing him before in the past.

***

Hours had passed and even Samson was feeling tired.  The beaming sun was much stronger than usual.  The dry heat didn’t help, increasing his thirst as he continued picking.  The taskmaster finally came around and began cracking his whip in the air again.

“All right niggers!  That’s enough for today.  Gather your shit and start heading to the barn for weighing.  You fucking niggers better have gotten your fucking share of cotton.  I don’t wanna have to come back out in this fucking sun to have to whip your sorry asses!”  The taskmaster shouted.

He made sure to glare at the older slave he had whipped before.  Samson hoped that the amount he had given the older man was enough.  The group of slaves prodded along, heading toward the cooler, shaded barn.

“Massa William, could I whip these niggas today?”  Rufus asked the taskmaster.

“You want this whip?”  William, the taskmaster replied.

“Yes massa, I’d love to try it out,” Rufus responded.

“We’ll see nigger.  I might let you,” William said.

“Thank you massa.  I know you don’t want to be back in this heat massa,” Rufus said.

Samson rolled his eyes and clenched his fists.  Just another victim that Samson wanted to get his hands on.  Rufus grinned and looked over at Samson.  The two met eyes and both men could feel their hatred and anger for one another. 

Rufus had reported Samson to the taskmaster before for sharing cotton.  Samson had been whipped for hours, and the older slave he had helped had been whipped to death.  Samson had managed to get his hands on Rufus once, knocking out several of his teeth but he was whipped again in return.  Samson swore that he would kill Rufus if given the chance.

“All right!  Niggers, line up in your usual positions!”  William ordered.

Samson and the other slaves lined up.  There was a large scale with a bucket hanging on it.  One by one the slaves began placing their share of cotton into the bucket.  Another white man walked in carrying a pen and paper.  He was in charge of weighing the cotton.

One by one they began getting their numbers.  The taskmaster seemed pleased as each one hit or exceeded their daily allotted expectations.  One of the slaves, a white man, was the first to not reach the threshold.

“Luke, my man, cool hand Luke, what is going on?  You’re off by quite a bit today.  Sun getting to you?”  The man calculating the totals asked.

William, the taskmaster, slowly made his way towards Luke.  He was shaking his head as he walked.  Luke looked downwards, unable to meet William’s gaze.

“I’m... I’m sorry.  I just... It was just really hot and dry today,” Luke answered.

“Here,” William said as he handed him a cup of water.

Luke grabbed the cup and gobbled down the water.  Samson glared, swallowing his own spit to try to cool his parched throat.  William looked over at the man with the paper and pen.

“Well, go on, keep the line moving,” he ordered.

“Oh, of course.  Samson!”

Samson plopped his cotton into the bucket and then stood back in his spot.  The man with the paper and pen nodded, looking surprised by the amount.  William turned and wandered over towards the scale.

“Not bad.  But... for a big nigger, you sure didn’t get as much as I thought you would.  You weren’t helping that fucking old nigger now, were you?”  William questioned, raising the handle of his whip and pushing it against Samson’s chin.

“No sir, I did not,” Samson replied.

“You lying to me boy?”

“No sir, I would never lie to you sir,” Samson answered.

William turned around and took a quick look at the older slave.  The older black man did not meet his eyes and only looked down.  A small smile crept on William’s lips and he turned around, smacking Samson in the face with the back of his hand.  Samson barely flinched and kept staring forward, trying to keep himself calm.

“You fucking lying nigger.  I can smell you niggers lying from a mile away,” William said.

“What’s going on here?”

Samson looked over to see John and his wife wander in.  William stood straight and looked over at John.

“Sir, this nigger’s lying to me.  He picked cotton for the old man and he’s lying about it,” William informed.

John looked over at Samson and shook his head disappointingly.  He recognized him from the last time Samson was whipped.

“Damn niggers never learn do they?  How about her?  How did she do?”  John asked as he pointed at Latifa.

“Damn good,” William replied.

“Mmm... good.  I think she deserves a reward,” John said.

His wife glared at him and clenched her jaw.  Samson, as well as all others in the barn, could easily sense her anger.  John was oblivious, as he stared at the nubile, lithe body of the black slave.

“Let’s give her some desert from tonight’s dinner honey.  Make her feel good about her work today,” John said.

“No nigger is eating my cooking,” his wife shot back.

“Excuse me Susan?  Did you... did you just talk back to me in front of the slaves woman?”  John questioned as he finally turned his attention to her.

He raised his arm, ready to hit her with the back of his hand.  Samson reacted with instinct, gliding by William and grabbing John’s wrist.  The whole barn grew silent.  It was forbidden for any slave to touch John without approval.

“What the fuck!”  William exclaimed.

He punched Samson in the gut but there was very little effect.  Samson shook his head and calmly released John’s wrist.  A small smile of appreciation curled up on Susan’s beautiful red lips.

“William!  Have you not fucking taught these niggers anything?!  Whip this damn nigger!  Whip him till he fucking cries!”  John ordered.

“Rufus!  Get your ass over here!  Grab this nigger and tie him to the post.  We are going to fucking have a field day today!”  William commanded.

Rufus grabbed Samson and tried to force him away but failed.  Samson was too big and powerful and barely budged.  He was not going to move unless he wanted to.  William punched him in the gut again but was met with the same resistance.

“Oh, you a big nigger aren’t you?  You think you’re tough and big huh?  All right boy, you brought this on yourself!”  William screamed.

He turned and waved at the other white men in the room.  They all surrounded Samson and began hitting him.  Samson took the punches and kicks, flinching but refusing to move.  William went to the back and brought out a shovel.

“Fucking nigger!”  William shouted as he slammed Samson’s side with the shovel.

Samson finally moved, grunting in pain.  The men began dragging him out of the barn and towards a lone wooden post outside.  Samson looked over at Susan and gave her a slight subtle nod.  Susan nodded back, thanking him without words.

The men wrapped his arms around the post and tied his wrists together.  His back was towards them, long, dark marks already on his back from previous whippings.  William pulled up his whip and in one quick strike, cracked it onto Samson’s back.  Samson flinched but did not make a sound.

Susan gasped and covered her mouth as she saw William whip Samson again.  She could never get used to the way John and his group of thugs treated their slaves.  She had grown up in the South, and was even raised by slaves, but her family was never abusive to them.  After she married John, she saw a darker side to him; one of which was his treatment of his slaves.

“Come on nigger!  Just cry like a little bitch and I’ll stop!”  William yelled as he whipped Samson again.

Samson remained silent, quietly staring off into the distance.  Rufus was clapping and laughing excitedly, hoping that he would get a chance to whip the large black man.  William was livid, his face bright red with anger.

“Fucking nigger making me sit out here in the fucking sun again!  Fucking nigger!”  William screamed as he lashed out again on Samson.

“John, that’s enough,” Susan said.

John looked over at his wife, a big toothy grin on his face.  He shook his head and watched the whipping.

“John, I’m serious, he should not be whipped for protecting me, your wife!”  Susan yelled.

“Woman, don’t you dare speak against me in front of my slaves,” John grunted back.

“Is that how this is going to go?  Do you want me to reach out to my father?  He will not appreciate the way you treat me.  The fact that you raised a hand towards me will make him come down with a shotgun; father of his grandkids or not,” Susan replied.

“You think I’m afraid of your father?”

“Maybe you’re not.  But I do know you’re afraid of him cutting off his money to you and maybe he’ll take this land back from you,” Susan replied with a sharp edge to her voice.

“Rufus!  Rufus!  Come here nigger!  Take this whip!”  William shouted.

John glared at his wife, his own face growing red with rage.  Her father had given him a loan to own the plantation he had.  While John was close to paying off his father-in-law, it most likely was not enough to stop him from taking back everything.

“Are you threatening me, woman?”  John asked.

“Only if you take it as a threat,” Susan replied.

The two fell silent, glaring at one another.  William was in the background, handing his whip over to Rufus.

“Oh yeah, it’s my time now nigga!  You gonna get this!”  Rufus yelled while excitedly pacing back and forth.

“Enough,” John said as he turned towards Rufus.

“What?”  Rufus turned, confused.

“God damn nigger, I fucking said enough!”  John yelled as he rushed over and backhanded Rufus.

Rufus fell to the ground hard.

“And you had best call me master, fucking nigger,” John continued as he bent down and took the whip from him.

John gripped onto the whip tightly and looked at his wife.  He was seething with rage as he glared at her.  He was being made to look like a fool right in front of his slaves.  He looked at Rufus and swung the whip, smacking him hard on the arm.

“Nigger, get up and grab me Latifa.  I’m going to treat that nigger bitch like a real woman,” John ordered.

Rufus got up, his eyes filled with tears.  He stared at the ground and nodded before rushing back to the barn.

“I’m going to go enjoy myself some nice pussy, not that loose hole you have,” John remarked as he brushed past his wife in anger.

Susan ignored her husband and made her way towards Samson.  She looked over at William and waved him over.

“Help me untie him,” she said.

“Sorry ma’am, I can’t get that nigger,” William said as he walked off.

“One of you, please, come help,” she pleaded towards the other slaves.

They seemed afraid to help; worried that John would retaliate against them.  The older black man that Samson had helped slowly made his way forward.  Another large, bald muscular black man followed close behind.  They walked over to Samson and helped to untie his wrists.

“Are you okay?”  Susan asked.

“Yes ma’am.  Thank you ma’am,” Samson replied as he moved away from the post and rubbed his wrists.

“Yousa crazy,” the large bald slave said.

“It ain’t right to smack a woman,” Samson replied.

“My gawd, your back.  Let me put some ointment on it,” Susan offered.

“I’m used to it, it’ll heal,” Samson said.

He looked down at her smaller frame.  The dress she was wearing had a very low cut top, giving him a clear view of her cleavage.  He couldn’t help but lick his lips.

“Mesa can’t belie you did dat,” the bald man said.

“I can’t believe you did that, you mean,” Samson said.

“Oh... yeah, thanks Samson.  Yousa smart,” the bald man replied.

“You’re still fresh and new, Toby, you’ll pick up the language,” Samson said.

Toby nodded and helped to support Samson slightly.  Susan took another look at Samson’s injured back worriedly.  She called over one of the other slaves.

“I need you to go to the house and ask Fanta to get you a bottle of our ointment and some bandages,” Susan ordered.

“Yes ma’am,” the slave replied.

He jogged across the fields towards the house.  Samson shook his head.

“No, it’s all right.  I can handle this,” Samson said.

“No way darlin’, no way I’m lettin’ a man like yourself stay in the shape you’re in,” Susan replied.

Samson shrugged and began making his way back towards the barn.  The olde [...]