• Sign up or login, and you'll have full access to opportunities of forum.

Plantation Plight By Barbaria And Windar

Go to CruxDreams.com
windar said:
13. Sheriff John Miller


I got the bulletin a couple of days ago about the two escaped slaves, a mother and daughter, Pat and Barbara Moore. They had gone missing from a plantation in the next county and might be making their way through our territory to the forest sanctuary of escaped slaves and other ne’er-do-wells. Not unusual at all. What was unusual, at least to me, was the plantation they had escaped from, which was the one owned by my son-in-law, Charles, who had married my daughter Sarah. I loved Sarah, but I had to admit she could be a bitch at times and I wondered whether her mistreatment had caused these two to escape.

But, mistreatment or no, slaves had no right to escape. I didn’t make the rules in this world, but those rules are clear-the role of a slave is to bear what their master chooses to impose on them. And my role, as representative of the law, such as it is, is to catch those who abscond, whomever they might belong to. So, I told my men to be on the lookout for these two. We didn’t have the resources to look in every one of the many possible hiding places in our county, to be sure, but I figured at some point, they would need food or other supplies and be forced out of hiding.

Sure enough, one of the local farmers had nabbed a young woman early that morning, probably the daughter, inside his hen house, trying to steal eggs and perhaps some chickens as well. I sent my deputies to bring her in. When they dragged her in, kicking and screaming, the first thing I noticed was how much she looked like Sarah. They could easily have passed for sisters.

She was struggling uselessly against my deputies, who are both well-muscled, shouting, “Let me go! You’re hurting my arm!”

“If you stop struggling, they will let you go. I have some questions for you and if you co-operate I’m sure we can straighten this out.” The deputies relaxed their hold on her, but stayed by her side, ready to act if she renewed her resistance. “What is your name girl?”

“Karen Parker, sir” she responded. “I’m just passing through this area on my way from Riverton to visit my aunt in Chester.”

“I see,” I replied. “And what were you doing in that henhouse?”

“I was on the road last night and it was getting dark, so I went in there to sleep. I meant no harm, sir. Really. May I go now?”

“That’s an interesting story young lady. Perhaps, I should send someone to Chester to find your ‘aunt’. But it’s also interesting that you resemble the description of a slave who escaped from a plantation in the next county, Barbara Moore. You wouldn’t happen to know her by any chance?”

“No, sir, neither that name nor such a person is familiar to me.”

I read her the bulletin with the description of her and her mother. “Does not the daughter sound like you?”

“There are many young girls who could meet that description, sir. I am a free woman, daughter of a merchant in Riverton, and my parents are both recently deceased in the sickness that came through. I am going to live with my aunt.”

“That’s a wonderful story, girl. Unfortunately, I don’t believe it. I think you are Barbara Moore, escaped slave, and your mother, Pat, is hiding somewhere nearby. My duty is to return you and her to your rightful owners, Charles and Sarah, the latter of whom happens to be my daughter.”

“No!” she screamed. “That isn’t true! I swear it.”

“Well, my men will get the truth out of you, one way or the other. They are quite good at that, I can assure you. Take her to the barn, I ordered.” The deputies grabbed her and, despite her struggles, easily maneuvered her out the door and dragged her into the barn, as I followed behind.

“Now girl, we must see if you are hiding anything under your clothes. Strip!”

“But, sir I can’t expose my naked body to these men. Do you not have a woman who can examine me?”

“These are trained men, who have seen plenty in the line of duty. Now, I am getting tired of your lies and disobedience. Either you get those clothes off, or they will help you out of them. Now!” I shouted the last word.

She blanched in terror, realizing now what a serious situation she was in. Finally, the resistance went out of her eyes. She slowly unbuttoned her blouse. Once it was open in the front, she shucked it off, letting it fall to the hay-covered dirt floor. She wore no bra, so her breasts were exposed for a moment, before she raised her hands to cover them. They looked quite lovely indeed, but I needed to be sure.

“Hands by your sides,” I commanded. Reluctantly, she complied. Her breasts were indeed magnificent, though I could see some faint lines on them when I peered closely. Intrigued, I walked behind her. Much of her back was also lined, these more distinct than the ones on her front. There was little doubt she had been whipped, perhaps a week or so ago. I wondered what had been going on at Sarah and Charles’ plantation.

“I have eyes, girl. You have been whipped and rather severely I should say. I am now confident you are a slave.”

“No sir, that was my parents, sir, before they got sick. I was with a boy that they did not like and they punished me, as I deserved, sir.”

I walked back to face her. “I am tired of listening to your lies. Now get the rest of those clothes off, right now.” She unbuttoned her skirt and let it fall to the ground. Then, looking very scared, she grasped the waistband of her panties and lowered them as well. This time she didn’t even bother to try to cover the exposed private areas. “The shoes too,” I said. I had noticed that they looked rather thrown together and not a perfect fit. She slipped them off and was completely naked.

I walked behind her again. The lines covered her ass and thighs, as well as her back. “Alright boys, let’s string her up. She’ll admit who she is soon enough and tell us where her mother is hiding.” One of the deputies went to a table next to one of the walls of the barn and came back with a set of leather manacles, which he buckled around the girl’s wrists. Then, they moved her to stand underneath one of the sturdy roof beams of the barn, across which a long rope, about an inch thick had been passed. They tied the manacles securely to one end of the rope, then grasped the other end and began pulling.

Slowly, they raised the girl’s arms over her head. Once they were at full extension, however, the deputies didn’t stop. Rather they kept pulling until she was raised on her toes and continued until her feet were raised off the ground, her toes stretching to keep contact with the ground, but to no avail. Finally, when her feet were about three inches above the ground, they stopped pulling and one of them went to wrap the rope around a cleat attached to one of the vertical beams.

“Well, girl, it’s lunchtime and all this work has made the boys and me hungry. We’ll let you hang there and think about whether you want to be smart and tell us the truth or whether you want to be stubborn. We’ll see you in a while.” Then we left to enjoy a leisurely lunch at the tavern just down the road.
Click to expand...
I bet Sheriff John Miller will extract the truth, and send Barb, and Pat back to the plantation. Then they will really be in trouble for escaping:eek:
A good chapter Windar.
 
windar said:
13. Sheriff John Miller


I got the bulletin a couple of days ago about the two escaped slaves, a mother and daughter, Pat and Barbara Moore. They had gone missing from a plantation in the next county and might be making their way through our territory to the forest sanctuary of escaped slaves and other ne’er-do-wells. Not unusual at all. What was unusual, at least to me, was the plantation they had escaped from, which was the one owned by my son-in-law, Charles, who had married my daughter Sarah. I loved Sarah, but I had to admit she could be a bitch at times and I wondered whether her mistreatment had caused these two to escape.

But, mistreatment or no, slaves had no right to escape. I didn’t make the rules in this world, but those rules are clear-the role of a slave is to bear what their master chooses to impose on them. And my role, as representative of the law, such as it is, is to catch those who abscond, whomever they might belong to. So, I told my men to be on the lookout for these two. We didn’t have the resources to look in every one of the many possible hiding places in our county, to be sure, but I figured at some point, they would need food or other supplies and be forced out of hiding.

Sure enough, one of the local farmers had nabbed a young woman early that morning, probably the daughter, inside his hen house, trying to steal eggs and perhaps some chickens as well. I sent my deputies to bring her in. When they dragged her in, kicking and screaming, the first thing I noticed was how much she looked like Sarah. They could easily have passed for sisters.

She was struggling uselessly against my deputies, who are both well-muscled, shouting, “Let me go! You’re hurting my arm!”

“If you stop struggling, they will let you go. I have some questions for you and if you co-operate I’m sure we can straighten this out.” The deputies relaxed their hold on her, but stayed by her side, ready to act if she renewed her resistance. “What is your name girl?”

“Karen Parker, sir” she responded. “I’m just passing through this area on my way from Riverton to visit my aunt in Chester.”

“I see,” I replied. “And what were you doing in that henhouse?”

“I was on the road last night and it was getting dark, so I went in there to sleep. I meant no harm, sir. Really. May I go now?”

“That’s an interesting story young lady. Perhaps, I should send someone to Chester to find your ‘aunt’. But it’s also interesting that you resemble the description of a slave who escaped from a plantation in the next county, Barbara Moore. You wouldn’t happen to know her by any chance?”

“No, sir, neither that name nor such a person is familiar to me.”

I read her the bulletin with the description of her and her mother. “Does not the daughter sound like you?”

“There are many young girls who could meet that description, sir. I am a free woman, daughter of a merchant in Riverton, and my parents are both recently deceased in the sickness that came through. I am going to live with my aunt.”

“That’s a wonderful story, girl. Unfortunately, I don’t believe it. I think you are Barbara Moore, escaped slave, and your mother, Pat, is hiding somewhere nearby. My duty is to return you and her to your rightful owners, Charles and Sarah, the latter of whom happens to be my daughter.”

“No!” she screamed. “That isn’t true! I swear it.”

“Well, my men will get the truth out of you, one way or the other. They are quite good at that, I can assure you. Take her to the barn, I ordered.” The deputies grabbed her and, despite her struggles, easily maneuvered her out the door and dragged her into the barn, as I followed behind.

“Now girl, we must see if you are hiding anything under your clothes. Strip!”

“But, sir I can’t expose my naked body to these men. Do you not have a woman who can examine me?”

“These are trained men, who have seen plenty in the line of duty. Now, I am getting tired of your lies and disobedience. Either you get those clothes off, or they will help you out of them. Now!” I shouted the last word.

She blanched in terror, realizing now what a serious situation she was in. Finally, the resistance went out of her eyes. She slowly unbuttoned her blouse. Once it was open in the front, she shucked it off, letting it fall to the hay-covered dirt floor. She wore no bra, so her breasts were exposed for a moment, before she raised her hands to cover them. They looked quite lovely indeed, but I needed to be sure.

“Hands by your sides,” I commanded. Reluctantly, she complied. Her breasts were indeed magnificent, though I could see some faint lines on them when I peered closely. Intrigued, I walked behind her. Much of her back was also lined, these more distinct than the ones on her front. There was little doubt she had been whipped, perhaps a week or so ago. I wondered what had been going on at Sarah and Charles’ plantation.

“I have eyes, girl. You have been whipped and rather severely I should say. I am now confident you are a slave.”

“No sir, that was my parents, sir, before they got sick. I was with a boy that they did not like and they punished me, as I deserved, sir.”

I walked back to face her. “I am tired of listening to your lies. Now get the rest of those clothes off, right now.” She unbuttoned her skirt and let it fall to the ground. Then, looking very scared, she grasped the waistband of her panties and lowered them as well. This time she didn’t even bother to try to cover the exposed private areas. “The shoes too,” I said. I had noticed that they looked rather thrown together and not a perfect fit. She slipped them off and was completely naked.

I walked behind her again. The lines covered her ass and thighs, as well as her back. “Alright boys, let’s string her up. She’ll admit who she is soon enough and tell us where her mother is hiding.” One of the deputies went to a table next to one of the walls of the barn and came back with a set of leather manacles, which he buckled around the girl’s wrists. Then, they moved her to stand underneath one of the sturdy roof beams of the barn, across which a long rope, about an inch thick had been passed. They tied the manacles securely to one end of the rope, then grasped the other end and began pulling.

Slowly, they raised the girl’s arms over her head. Once they were at full extension, however, the deputies didn’t stop. Rather they kept pulling until she was raised on her toes and continued until her feet were raised off the ground, her toes stretching to keep contact with the ground, but to no avail. Finally, when her feet were about three inches above the ground, they stopped pulling and one of them went to wrap the rope around a cleat attached to one of the vertical beams.

“Well, girl, it’s lunchtime and all this work has made the boys and me hungry. We’ll let you hang there and think about whether you want to be smart and tell us the truth or whether you want to be stubborn. We’ll see you in a while.” Then we left to enjoy a leisurely lunch at the tavern just down the road.
Click to expand...

Nicely done again Windar!!!
 
14. Barb

They left me alone in the barn, hanging naked from the rafters by my wrists ... the Sheriff and his men ... while they went off to have their lunch.

I rotated slowly, the long rope creaking and groaning against the beam overhead. I was completely stretched out, every sinew and muscle drawn taut. I could move my head only up toward the dusty rafters and loft above or down to gaze through my upturned breasts at the hay-strewn floor below. I could also flail with my legs. Otherwise I was helpless.

I hated having been forced to strip naked before these men. The shame of being nude in public, of being ogled by men with only one thing on their minds, was still a very raw and unsettling emotion for me ... despite the fact that being naked in front of strangers had been forced upon me often since I was first ordered to disrobe, along with my mother, on the auction block on that fateful day just a few weeks ago when I was sold into slavery. I had always been clothed in the presence e of others prior to that time, and had always been brought up to comport myself modestly in the presence of others.

As I hung there, back and arms aching from the strain, I worried about what the Sheriff and his men intended to do to me when they returned. They had not bought the Karen Parker story. Apparently they knew about Barbara and Pat Moore's escape from the plantation. And once they had stripped me and seen the faint marks left by the double whipping Pat and I had received a couple weeks ago at the plantation, they knew I was a slave and rightly suspected my identity to be none other than the fugitive slave, Barbara Moore.

They also knew Pat had to be hiding somewhere nearby and would surely want to interrogate me about the escape and the place where we had been hiding. For Pat's sake I knew I must not reveal her whereabouts no matter what they might do to make me talk. I resolved to resist, lie if I must, anything to save my mom. George had warned us that we might likely be killed if Sarah has her way. My capture by the Sheriff may have doomed me, but Pat was still free and I was determined to do whatever it took to keep it that way.

My mind then raced back to the events leading up to my present predicament ... to George's visit to our cabin, to the revelation that for our own safety we had to escape the plantation, to George's willingness to assist us in our escape, even to the point of providing us with shoes.

We did as he instructed. Over a week's time, we squirreled away enough food to sustain us for several days, and we bided our time until the wounds of our double whipping had healed and our strength had returned. And each night after work we sat in our slave cabin and discussed our plan.

Then, on a moonless night, four days ago, we made ready. But just as we were about ready to steal away from our slave cabin into the night, Charles suddenly appeared in the doorway. He had been drinking and spoke with a slur. He had come to demand another "party" ... his little euphemism for enjoying forced sex from his two favorite slaves. Nonetheless, he was sober enough yet to notice that something was amiss.

"Hang on," he drawled, "Now you two ladies planning to go somewhere? All dressed up? And where the fuck did you get those shoes? Slaves go barefoot around here! Shoes are against the rules! You two sluts ain't thinking of escaping, are you?"

"Oh, Master Charles! How good of you to come," cooed Pat, making her voice all silky and syrupy as she quickly stripped off her blouse and pressed her full bare breasts against his chest while kissing him on the mouth to shut him up. He dropped the bottle he was carrying on the floor and proceeded to paw and squeeze her breasts with both hands as she deftly opened his trousers and maneuvered him over to the bed ... signaling me with her free hand to do something, and do it quickly.

He mounted her, ripping away her skirt, while calling over his shoulder for me to strip naked because I was next! And as he forced her legs apart and thrust himself deeply into her with a loud bellow, I knelt and picked up the half-empty liquor bottle that had rolled over to and stopped against my right foot. I watched transfixed for a minute or two at his bare ass bouncing ludicrously up and down as he furiously fucked my poor mom, then I stepped forward and brought the bottle down with force on the back of his head.

We stole into the night, making our way past the big house, where I saw Sarah sitting on the porch reading a book, and out through the gate to freedom. As George had instructed, we made our way into the hills and in time took up residence in one of the many caves to be found there. We laid low for several days, well aware that they would be out trying to hunt us down.

But our food finally ran low. That's when I decided that I should go out and forage, having noted the location of a small farm not too many miles distant from our hiding place. And it was there that I was apprehended this morning by the Sheriff and his men.

By this time, I had been hanging in the barn for at least an hour. I was beginning to wonder, when the barn door rolled back on its track and the three of them strode in. The Sheriff looked resolute and business like, but the other two appeared to have gotten themselves liquored up, judging by their somewhat unsteady gait as they closed the distance on me.

"My God, she is a looker, ain't she? crowed one of the deputies "Just look at those luscious tits, will ya?"

"Nice tight little ass and pussy too!" crowed his companion, thrusting his hips back and forth in a crude gesture, laughing uproariously and slapping his buddy on the back.

"Oh shit!" I groaned.

"Keep it In your pants for now boys!" cautioned the Sheriff, winking. "We need to find out where her mother is hiding. So business first. Perhaps a little interrogation and persuasion session is in order, don't you think? Now, let's see ... what can we do to loosen her tongue?"
 
Last edited:
You must log in or register to reply here.
Back
Top Bottom