He treats her like a whore

Dear Diary, (May 22nd, just before bed)

As I lay there waiting for Kyleson I could hear the slapping of flesh coming from the adjoining room and Angelica's cries of passion as the black stud pounded on her. In spite of myself, I could feel my sex starting to drip. At that point, I still didn't know for sure how much trouble I was in. The next few seconds confirmed my worst fears.

“You are almost as pretty as your mother.” I still remember the chilling statement as the naked man loomed over me. The implied threat behind the words could not be ignored and Kyleson's earlier statement about knowing 'what' I was became clear. I remember considering bluffing my way out of this, but there was a steely intensity to his gaze that negated that idea. Instead, I decided to use this opportunity to learn as much as I could.

“You knew my mother?”

“I was at the auction when your father bought her.” Kyleson rubbed his big hands together as he spoke. “She was the star of the lineup; at least five other gentlemen wanted her, but your father outbid them all.”

“Are you going to tell anyone?” I tried to sound confident and poised, but laying naked as I was on this dingy little bed waiting to be used like one of the plantations breeders, I very much doubt I succeeded.

“That depends a lot on you, Miss DiFlorentini.” Kyleson replied as he settled between my open legs and positioned himself above me. “I don't have much to gain by running to your cousins for example, I think I'd do much better letting you stay here in Havenhall,” he paused long enough to guide his manhood between my petals. “Especially now that I know what a horny slut my new mistress is.”

“What do you want?” I was in no kind of negotiating position. Quite the opposite - Mr. Kyleson had me exactly where he wanted me on my back with his cock pushing into my undeniably juicy passage. It was absurd to even try, but Kyleson didn't seem to mind humoring me.

“Mr. Heyward never shared your mother, but I don't mind settling for her pretty, fancy, daughter.” What followed was a demeaning, shame-filled encounter as the man used me for his pleasure. It was in no way 'love-making' or even a shared moment between two equal partners.

Kyleson fucked me like a piece of meat and gave no consideration at all to my needs or desires. It was, almost exactly like the way Conrad was ploughing away on Angelica in the adjoining room. What made the sex even worse for me was the shameful fact that the harder and more callously Kyleson treated me, the more I responded. When he rolled me over onto my belly and took me again standing behind me while my face was pressed into the unwashed bedding, I climaxed harder than I can ever remember.

A minute later I felt his seed pulse into me, and my submission was complete. Once satisfied, the Irishman laughed harshly and pushed me away as he shook out the last few drops onto my trembling body.

“Damn, that was fine, girl.” As I lay trembling on the bed with his cum dripping from my sex, Kyleson turned away and started pulling on his clothes. It seemed that my purpose had been filled.

“You're a pig, Mr. Kyleson.” I tried to reassert some small degree of control. “I am the owner of this plantation; you can't just use me and walk away.” His snort of derision left no doubt about how he felt about my feeble attempt to regain control.

“You asked me earlier what I wanted, Miss DiFlorentini?” By now I had at least pulled myself into a sitting position with my knees pressed tightly together, I was still naked - but at least I wasn't spread open obscenely. “I want a hand in managing Havenhall.” I nodded silently but I guess Kyleson sensed my confusion. “As a Catholic Irishmen,” he explained, “I am looked down upon by the plantation owners of the South almost as much as you darkies.” I hadn't really considered that as an immigrant with a distinct accent and the wrong religion, my overseer's options were so limited. Like me though, the surly man was not content to stay in his place.

“Alright, Mr. Kyleson.” If that is the worst of the deal, I've lost very little. “You know far more about what needs to be done here at Havenhall in any event.” Once again, I tried to assert some control. “What happened here today, can't be a regular thing, Mr. Kyleson. It would ruin my reputation.”

“Oh, we can keep it nice and discrete, Miss DiFlorentini.” His laugh was actually warm and attractive, and it made it harder to despise the man and the power he now had over me. “I just want to bang you like the nigger whore that we both now know you are.” He stepped back and finished buttoning his shirt, but his eyes never left mine. “I think that's what you want too.” I still remember the feeling of warmth that flooded my loins as I nodded my head in submission. I hated myself, but Kyleson seemed to know what I needed even better than I did.

The sex I had experienced with Kyleson was exactly I needed. Say what you will about the man's courting practices, as a lover he was as demanding and forceful as I hoped for. It is a good thing that I was no delicate rose waiting to be plucked. If I had been a virgin, I would have alerted every soul in the barn with my screams as that man plunged his entire length into me splitting me open like a whore, just as he promised. As it is, I am still sore from his energetic coupling and Kyleson had to silence my cries of pleasure with his hand over my mouth before he was done.

So now I am back in my room and I know that in any moment Angelica is going to come in to turn down the bed. I had not spoken to her since I brought her to the barns. Did she know that Kyleson found me watching her and the negro ****? Did the curly-haired fancy girl hear my cries of pleasure through the small glass window like I heard hers?