Manton announces what's in store for me

Dear Diary, May 23 eighteen Minutes later

Manton studied me as I whimpered at Kyleson's feet. He seemed pleased with the way I responded to the whipping and was accepting my new role. “You just heard, Miss DiFlorentini, from Mr. Naylor what my uncle expects of me. However, I am not a monster, as long as you behave as befits a proper nigger ****, you can expect no vindictive treatment from me.”

“But until then, I'll make sure you don't just disappear like your thieving mother. Tomorrow the blacksmith will put on a pair of leg irons for you, which will be connected to a chain.” I remember thinking at the time that if this was his idea of not being vindictive, I'd hate to see him if I angered the man. “You'll still be able to move around the farm, but it'll keep you from thinking you can pull a rabbit run. When not occupied, you'll be housed in the **** pens with the other breeding-aged does. Don't worry, girl. The doe-hut is locked to keep the randy bucks from messing with you before your time.”

As he looked down at me, my cousin's gaze took on a haughty, arrogant look that also showed the satisfaction he felt at being endowed with a power that could mean life or **** for me.

“If you behave like a proper colored ****, after a while you will only spend your nights in there.” He nudged Kyleson before adding a correction with a self-satisfied grin. “Nights that is when you don't have other duties.” Something in my reaction must have alerted Manton that I was not happy with the direction this was going.

“Of course you'll have duties: during the day, you'll help in the big house and at night your pretty little body will be available to me or the men I appoint.” I confess I hadn't even considered the possibility that I might be passed around like a plate of sliced cakes for Manton's friends to enjoy. I turned my attention back to the man as he seemed to contemplate my fate. “If I find you pleasing, maybe you'll become my personal fancy girl - at least until I've found a white woman befitting my status.” I remember looking back at him angrily.

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The idea of having to sexually please my new master in order to earn the 'right' to be his whore made my stomach turn, but the alternative, he explained would be even worse.

“Don't you scowl at me, girl. If you just lay there whimpering in my bed, or if keep up your stubborn airs, ****, you won't last long in Havenhall.” Manton's voice took on a somber tone. “I'll sell your pretty ass to the highest bidder at an auction in Charleston. I hear Charleston brothels are paying the top prices right now.”

“You might start out as prime meat, but when your pretty tits start sagging, you'll gradually descend until you end up in the common rooms servicing 50 some horny clients a day.” The alternative Manton was painting made being his personal fancy maid sound a little better in comparison. Those eager pricks will pump their sperm into your nigger cunt until you're completely worn out and can no longer do it and will be thrown out. Any brats you drop will be taken away from you; the boys sold off to work in the fields and the girls trained to be whores just like their mother.”

His gaze now seemed pensive, even thoughtful. “As pretty as you are, you might be bought by one of Charlston's young gentlemen.” For some reason I thought of Mr. Thornton, the only man I knew in all of South Carolina who might help me if he could. Now in hindsight, it is perfectly clear to me that this is a naïve fantasy. There was no reason to think that this southerner would help me now that he knew my true parentage. Manton wasn't done detailing the possible fates on my new life.

“More likely though,” he seemed to relish this particular option, “it'll be a **** breeder at the auction looking to buy himself a broodmare. He'll fill your belly himself, have his friends do it or have one of his black bucks seed your fertile womb.” For some reason, the thought of a negro man being the one to plant a child in my womb seemed even worse than the others, and I shuddered as he went on. “As young as you are, you'll probably drop a dozen pups before you are put out to toil in the cotton fields.”

“As for tonight: I want you in my room, washed and made up nice and pretty. So I'll see whether you're a good lay or not.”

“If you spread your pale legs nice and sweet, I might pound you all night long.” He rubbed his hands together gleefully clearly looking forward to the encounter. “Don't expect any consideration from me. After all, you're nothing but the slutty daughter of a run-a-way **** and criminal. If it turns out I beget a child, so much the better.”

Turning to Kyleson, he said as he left:

“Two more smacks with the whip so she understands her position and that I mean business.”

Kyleson nodded and hit out twice more on my bare back that was already burning from before.