With surprising forcefulness

Dear Diary,

I thought I knew Mr. Thornton's character quite well. I certainly didn't expect the very proper Mr. Thornton to be so bitter or cruel in his treatment of me. Once again it seems, I underestimated just how much the small amount of negroid blood in my veins would affect a gentleman from this Southern state.

“What are you doing here, Bianca.” Mr. Thornton, I learned slept in a loose linen shirt and trousers that came off with surprising swiftness and just like that he was as naked as I. “Did you lead Mr. Manton on like this, Miss DiFlorentini, when he visited you this morning?” His wiry arms are surprisingly strong as he pulls me into a fierce embrace, quite different than the tender kiss I had anticipated. “It seems that you are not as chaste and pure as I first assumed either.” Mr. Thornton's kiss left me gasping for breath and lightheaded. He seemed angry with me.

“No, Mr. Thornton!” This is not at all how I expected this encounter to unfold. “Mr. Manton grew angry when I laughed at his offer to buy Havenhall for a measly $5,000.” I had hoped to placate the young lawyer, but by now he had other things on his mind. With one hand around my waist keeping me still, his other hand cupped my breast and squeezed it through the thin fabric of my sheer nightgown.

“Did you let him fondle these firm round tits of yours, Bianca? You did, didn't you!” I arched my back upwards as he groped me caught between the pleasure and the cruel words. “And I'd wager he's not the first either. How many lovers have you had back in Philadelphia?”

“Only a few, Mr. Thornton. I'm not a slut - I promise.” Even one lover it seems might have been too many for this Southern gentleman with his rigorous expectations of female behavior.

“And I thought you were a virgin.” His snort was a mixture of derision and hurt. “I had started to think I might deflower you on our wedding bed.” My heart jumped in my chest at hearing how strong Mr. Thornton's feeling for me ran until it was made clear though that this could no longer be an option. “Now, it turns out you are the daughter of a common house ****, and like your fancy-girl mother, no stranger to pleasing men with your sweet charms.” What I thought would be a caring and loving coupling, had turned into something very different. I pushed against his chest trying to get away from Mr. Thornton before this encounter got any worse.

“It wasn't like that, Mr. Thornton.” I twisted in his grip and managed to get onto my feet. “I'm sorry to have disturbed you, Sir. I will take me leave.”

“Oh no, Bianca.” I didn't even realize at first that his hands had moved to the hem of my nightshirt until I felt my only garment moving upwards. Instead of breaking free of his grip, I ended up completely exposed with the thin cotton nightgown twisted around my wrists binding them above my head. I couldn't even fight back when he dragged me onto the bed and covered my body with his.

This rough treatment was disturbingly close to my earlier nightmare with Miles, but not quite the same. Unlike when I was being assaulted by my cousin, I felt an undeniable raw sexual excitement when I felt Mr. Thornton's lips find mine. While surprised by the assertive role that my lover had taken, I was not displeased, and I found myself mewing with need and returning his kisses with fervent passion.

Pinned under him like I was, I could feel his long, pulsing member push hard against my belly. “You like this, Miss DiFlorentini, don't you?” I wanted to deny it. I swear, I wanted to kick that brash young lawyer right in the balls, but I didn't. The feeling of Mr. Thornton's kiss and his hands exploring my sensitive curves made me quiver with need. I should have told that young man to stop, but instead, I told him what he wanted to hear.

“Oh God!” And then as I wiggled and squirmed under him as he thrust into my deepest parts again and again I started begging for him to use me. “Yes! Uughh, Ma-Mister Thornton ... Oohh ...Take me! Make me - ooughh!”

I almost cannot bear to write this, but as no-one but me will ever read this I guess I might as well record my shameful thoughts. I believe I have recorded with fidelity the actual words that cried out, but at the time what I wanted to say was more along the lines of: “Yes, Master! Take me! Make me your brown-skinned whore ... your Fancy girl ****!” Thankfully I was able to hold those disturbing words in check, but what I did say was more than enough for the young lawyer.

Mr. Thornton did not need to be asked twice. I felt a brief pause as he positioned himself at my womanhood and then without any warning he pushed in; his hot manhood spearing into me like a stake into freshly ploughed field. In the past, with all my other lovers, I insisted they pull out before they reached their climax, but this was different. On my back however, with my hands entangled in my nightgown and Mr. Thornton between my thighs, I could no more insist that my lover pull out than any other negro **** on my plantation. Instead, I lay there and let him thrust into me again and again.

Once I stopped fighting it, I had to admit that this is exactly what I've been needing since I first arrived at Havenhall. I wonder if these men are right ... do I crave a man's touch because of my mother's fancy maid blood? Am I slut by birth? When Mr. Thornton sensed that he had subdued me, his thrusts became gentler and soon I was mewing and rocking against him like a bitch in heat.

As I examine the sketch I just drew and reread the words penned on this page, I'm so mortified. My emotions threaten to overwhelm me, my palms are sweating, and my fingers shake ... I must stop writing ... Dear Lord, I still haven't even gotten to Mr. Thornton's reaction to my shameful submission.