It's Just a Matter of Breeding

Suddenly, Masta Brennan came barging from behind the trees shouting and cursing. Masta had gone crazy, he and his men started beating the younger man until he couldn't stand and lay in a heap on the ground. Signaling to his men, Master Brennan had them drag Ulysses away. I never saw Ulysses again.

Masta was livid, and when he dragged me back to the house, he kept berating me for being a whore, for letting some black buck stick his filthy cock in me. "You're too valuable to let a common field nigger fuck you. I'll kill you if you ever let a nigger touch you again."

"No, that's not what happened, Masta Brennan," I said in between tears and trying to catch my breath; outwardly terrified, knowing that I was his slave and that he had control over me and my life. I also realized at that moment that I wasn't destined for the breeding shed.

"My mistake was being too good to you Dilcy. The whole time you've been here I never hit, beat or whipped you, yet I find you acting like some little black whore sucking that nigger's dick in the woods."

*****

Master didn't beat me that night, but he had me stripped and locked in the small shack behind the horse barn. He kept me there for two days. I could hear the voices of people coming and going, the bustle of daily activity but no one came to unlock the door until the second night when Masta came after the day's work was finished and the darkness and quiet had settled over everything.

I had been sleeping on an old cot when I abruptly sat up at the sound of the door being unlocked and opened. The soft light of the candle flickered as Masta closed the door behind him.

"Get up, Dilcy," he said

Not sure what to do I got up and stood there naked, my slim legs pale in the beams of light filtering through the walls, my hair loose and falling long and thick down my back and over my breasts, the blueness of my eyes still striking even in the dimness of the shack.

"Come here, he ordered. I've been patient with you, but I've been patient long enough Dilcy."

"It became clear to me when I caught you in the woods, that like most women all you want is to have a hard cock up your pussy and it doesn't matter what color it is or who it belongs to. When I saw you with that buck, I knew then that you were ready. I knew I'd better do something soon before you let some black son of a bitch ruin you, take your virginity and put a black bastard in you."

I stood there as a feeling of helplessness crept over me and watched in disbelief as he exposed himself to me for the first time, his cock hanging heavy between his legs. I had never been with a man before, but I knew what Masta wanted and would take from me.

"Masta, please no. I heard them talking, and they say you my daddy . . . this is wrong . . . this is wrong."

"I own you Dilcy, just like my Daddy owned your Mama and that's all it is. I knocked your Mama up, and it produced you, you're a piece of property to me," he said. Masta looked me up and down as he stroked himself. "You need to understand that. I'm going to fuck you Dilcy; I'm going to be your first. When I breed you with a white baby, as long as you act right and are respectful and obedient, I might let you keep it."

I could feel my heart tighten in my chest.

He forced me down onto the old cot, stretched out between my legs and began to enter me. He paused with his cockhead at my opening and then pushed forward until he was inside me. I cried out from the pain, but he didn't stop, Masta didn't stop until he had his monstrous white cock buried deep inside me.

He spread my legs wide. Masta was a big, strong, hard-muscled man, whose sun-darkened skin was darker than mine was. I lay there submissively, as hot tears trailed down my cheeks while my Daddy purposefully kept thrusting his swollen cock into me. I lay there under him and could hear him grunting and groaning with each thrust.

He pulled out and thrust back into me all the way. He did this several times going faster and deeper until he finally went as deep as he could and with a shudder, slumped on top of me, grinding his hips against mine until he had emptied himself of cum and need.

He finally rolled off me and lay on his back, his cock still twitching. After a few minutes, he leaned over me, guided a hard, erect brown nipple into his mouth and lightly bit it before raising and dressing. He tossed an old blanket to me saying, "I'm going to send Sophie down here, and I want you to get up to the house and clean yourself." When he left out of the shack, I covered myself, and after a few minutes, on wobbly legs, but with Sophie's help made my way up to the Main House.

Once in my room, I lay on my small bed, my mind racing unable to sleep. Masta had never done anything like this before, and it had frightened me. Tonight he had made it clear why I was here and what he wanted. The fact that he was my Daddy and had just taken my virginity was a purely incidental happenstance and of no consequence to him. I was there to satisfy him sexually and in time be a receptacle for not only his seed but also his bastard.

*****

A few days went by after the incident in the shack before he started coming to my room at night.

While in the kitchen one afternoon, I heard someone calling, "Psst, psst, Dilcy," I looked up to see Sophie waving her hand, signaling for me to come closer. I turned from the table where I was chopping vegetables and walked over to her.

"Hey, Sophie, what you need?" I asked.

"I don't need noth'n from you girl, but I wanted to give you something. I saw you a few nights ago in the shack with Masta Brennan on top of you taking his pleasure, pushing that big white thang of his into you," Sophie said conspiratorially.

"By the time he finished, I had run back up to the house . . . but I seen everything that he done to you."

I looked up surprised by what she had said and out of shame, I could feel my eyes beginning to brim with tears.

"Shhhh, shhhh, stop crying, ain't no need to be crying. You're a woman, and even wit yoe white breeding, you still a black woman. Black womens do what they needs to do."

"You know he's your Daddy don't you?" Sophie asked pointedly, eyeing me from under squinty lids.

"Yes . . . I know." I replied.

"Well, ain't noth'n you can do bout that neither. Masta's got an itch for you girl, and now that the Missus is gone, he's gonna have you even if he's your Daddy. It don't matter none to him."

The old black woman paused and looked at me for a long while before she handed me a small bag stuffed full of dark, green and yellow herbs. The way he's been going at you, Masta's gonna have you breeding quick if you ain't already. If it happens, it happens, but if you brew these up in a tea every day or so, God willing, you won't get caught.

"But . . . but Sophie," I stuttered before being interrupted.

"You listen to me girl . . . you being Masta's daughter don't mean nothing to him. I know he treats you special, not like his other slaves, but he wants them pretty white babies that he can make with you, just like he made you with your Mama. To sell . . . to keep, I don't know."

"Now do like I say, and don't breathe a word of this to him and be careful he don't find out," Sophie cautioned before she turned and waddled out of the kitchen, leaving me standing there more confused than ever. I quickly tucked the small cloth bag into the bodice of my dress and hurried upstairs when I heard Mazie, one of the other house slave calling me.

*****

As I said, Masta came to my room every night, and after a while, I found I no longer felt fear or apprehension but instead had become reconciled to him crawling into my bed whenever he wanted me. To my shame, I think I enjoyed his hardness when he pushed up into me and made me feel that warm, prickly feeling. It went on like this for almost six months, me foolishly confident in the knowledge that I could not become pregnant. Perhaps it was my over-confidence that led to Masta discovering my secret.

One day while we all were helping with cleaning chores, Mazie, found my packet of special herbs which had fallen out of my dress pocket. Discovering the bag of herbs and recognizing what they were, she took the bag to Masta.

Later that night, he summoned me to his study. In a fit of anger, Masta beat me for the first time. It was not vicious or prolonged as most slave whippings were, but painful enough to convey his anger. When Masta finished my punishment, he stood in front of me, breathing heavily, covered in perspiration with a rock hard erection tenting his trousers. To my horror, there on the floor, he forced me onto my stomach, ripped my drawers off and took me in an unnatural way that even now, years later rekindles the feelings of disgust and sexual excitement that I felt that night.

Weeping Willows was a breeding plantation, and though he had not allowed other men to be with me, he felt that my deliberately trying to prevent conception was an affront to him and a demonstration of my deceitful nature.

"You're a breeding cow, Dilcy," he had shouted at me, wanting to humiliate me.

"Your very existence depends on me. If you ever dare to interfere again, to forget your place, I will send you to the breeding shed, sell you away or put you in the fields to work."

Violated and abused I curled on the floor traumatized, unable to move. Masta got up and naked from the waist down walked out of the room returning a few minutes later puffing on a cigar and carrying a glass of bourbon. He sat down in the old rickety chair on the other side of the room and silently watched me for what seemed a long time.

"Come here Dilcy," he said,

I managed to sit up and looked at him with renewed tears beginning to flow, my eyes bright with fear.

"I can't," I said with a pathetic whimper.

I was hurting and felt as if I could not make myself stand.

Masta ordered me to crawl to him on my hands and knees and I did as he directed. I crept between his spread knees and he reached out his hand and lifted my face to look at him. Through my tears, I saw the sternness soften and a look of what could have been regret for what he had done flicker in his eyes. In spite of everything, he bent forward and kissed my quivering lips. He forced his tongue into my mouth and I could sense his growing hunger. Ignoring my obvious discomfort, Masta pressed me onto my back, bunched my skirt up around my hips and mounted me. I opened myself to accommodate him and inhaled the heady mix of his masculine scent, tobacco, and bourbon. I felt the pain gradually change to pleasure as he slowly, gently stroked in and out of me this time. Amidst guttural sounds of release, he came quickly, spewing semen deep inside my pussy. I clung to him when an orgasm washed over me forcing my body to tremble beneath him.

With the Missus now deceased, there was no longer a need to hide his desires and incestuous lust. Within three months, my Daddy had bred me with his own seed . . . I was pregnant. I know it sounds crazy, but I think the fact that I was his daughter and so quickly made pregnant with his child intrigued and aroused him more than he had anticipated.

*****

As time went on, and my body began to change, I could sense his attitude toward me were also changing. At times, it was as if he was consumed by an almost constant and insatiable desire . . . no need to fuck me.

Gathering flowers for the table one afternoon; Masta Brennan called to me from the door of the barn, "Dilcy put the flowers down and get in here . . . now."

I looked up at the sound of his voice and absently brushed the dust from my dress. I must have looked a sight; a too big floppy straw hat barely reigned in my errant blond hair, an old but favored yellow house dress fluttering in the light wind about my ankles and bare feet.

I placed the basket on the ground and apprehensively walked toward the open barn door that framed Masta Brennan's tall, handsome figure. As I entered the barn, he took my arm, led me to one of the stalls, and indicated he wanted me to sit down.

I sat on a small bench in front of him when he began to open the bodice of my dress and play with my breasts. Pinching my long nipples, he teased small milky droplets from each nipple before lowering his head to suck the nectar into his mouth. As he sucked and nibbled, he ignited the spark of lust between my legs, and I began to moan softly. Helping me from the bench, Masta stretched out alongside me on a pallet, slipped his big rough hand under my dress and caressed my growing belly. He opened my legs wider and shifted his position so that he was now between my legs.

I gasped when I felt his warm, moist mouth, and closed my eyes. I began to cry with the pleasure of what he was doing to me.

"Oh, Massstaaaa," I said in a whisper.

"That's it sweet girl."

He slipped his tongue into my pussy and I began to hump his tongue as I rubbed his face against my hot, puffy pussy. After I had cum, Masta removed my dress and rolling me onto my side began probing with his bulbous cockhead until he found what he sought. With his hand on my hip, he pushed forward, his wonderfully thick white cock easily gliding into the tight, pregnant place where only he had experienced and where he had so fruitfully planted his seed.

I turned my head to look at him and saw a look come over his face and his eyes glaze over as he pumped into me.

"Masta, oh Masta, the baby," I moaned with a lusty exhale of breath when in his excitement he pressed too deeply filling me with his manhood.

"My baby's going to have my baby," he murmured against my ear. I could feel him growing bigger inside me and as his body readied to explode, my pussy contracted hard around his cock. Masta maneuvered me onto my back and gently rolled on top of me, being careful to support his weight on his elbows.

"Oh my God . . . your pussy is so hot and tight," he said while slowly thrusting into me. Grinding his cock deeper, my Daddy released a massive load. His deep strokes forced his cum to ooze out of me and run down between my ass cheeks.

Rolling off me when he had emptied himself, he pulled my small pregnant body closer to him. He was still the Masta and I the slave, but he was also my father and me his daughter whose welcoming body he sought out for comfort and release. I rose from the pallet and walked to the small window that opened onto the yard. Masta joined me at the window, and pressing close to me rubbed his now semi-hard cock against my back and caressed the gentle swell of my belly with his big hands.

"What is it Dilcy?" He asked.

I exhaled slowly, and gathering my nerve asked the question that had been weighing on my mind and heart as my baby grew.

"Will you let me keep my baby, I asked sheepishly?"

Masta didn't answer but became quiet as if trying to make a decision.

"Will you let me keep my baby?" I asked again, turning around to look at him.

"That's not something you need to be concerned about Dilcy, he said. Now, do not ask me about this again . . . do you understand?"

"Yes." I said in a quiet, barely audible voice.

"Good, now on your knees . . . use your mouth and clean me before I need to get back to work."

I did as he said, unaware of how long his brother Phillip had been secreted in the shadows watching us.

*****

My belly grew bigger with his child and my teats full and heavy as my time approached. Masta particularly liked this time, taking great pleasure in fucking me as my pregnancy progressed. I grew more acquiescent and submission to him, to the point that when he was around me my teats would begin to leak and my pussy become wet with anticipation. I no longer resisted him or struggled to prevent him from using my body, but looked forward to being with him.

The bigger I grew the more his desires were inflamed. He enjoyed occasionally taking me in the horse barn of all places, with the horses and dogs curiously watching him. When he indulged himself in front of his animal audience, he would take me on all fours either naked or with my dress pulled up in the back. Head and shoulders lowered, my still small ass raised and presented to him. Daddy would glide his hard, demanding cock into his half white pickaninny, and thrusting rhythmically in and out of me cum with a loud, hoarse cry of pleasure.

Masta was so consumed by his passion and needs that I would sometimes be awakened in the night to find him suckling a warm, sweet teat or probing between my legs for entry. Because I was also in an almost constant state of arousal during this time, I would cum easily to his ministrations falling asleep afterward, his cock still snug and pulsing inside me. The fact that he was my Daddy was ignored and forgotten.

*****

The Masta had awakened in me sexual needs and urgings that I was no longer ashamed of or tried to hide. My young, supple body was his and I gladly gave it only to him . . . except for one incident when he was away and in my condition, my pregnant body restless and horny all but screamed for the feel of a man.

Phillip, the Masta's brother, had been a guest for several days and had already made his lecherous rounds through the Quarters. One evening as Masta Brennan prepared to ride over to a neighboring plantation for dinner, Phillip had begged off at the last minute. As the Masta rode away, Phillip stood on the veranda watching Masta's horse fade into the distance. When Masta was out of sight, Phillip turned and re-entered the house. Walking purposefully to the rear of the house, he came unbidden into my small room and found me getting ready for bed. I jumped to my feet in surprise and before I realized what was happening, Phillip had jerked me around, ripped my flimsy nightgown away and bent me over the back of the chair I had just a minute before been seated in.

The fact that I was now very pregnant did not deter Phillip from what he was intent on doing. On some animal level, it was as if he could almost smell my heat and it excited him even more. With one hand on the back of my neck, he held me pinned in that bent over position, my pregnant belly protruding, my swollen breast swaying. Despite the pressure of his body on mine, I began to struggle. "Don't be afraid, I'm not going to hurt you," he said with a laugh when he slipped his hand between my legs and began to rub my clit. After only a minute or two of this, I could hear myself beginning to moan and feel my legs quiver as my pussy became wet and achy from his touch.

I could sense Phillip behind me unbuttoning, and then lowering his pants. In a growing panic, I began to plead and cry for release. Suddenly I felt a sharp "whack" across my behind and then another and another. He had removed his belt and was striking me with it.

"Stop, oh please stop," I cried. Masta Phillip tossed the belt aside and began spanking me with his hand until my behind was red and covered with large imprints of his hand. I turned my head to look at him and caught my breath at the sight of his thick veiny erection jerking almost angrily in front of him. Phillip pushed his cock between my thighs and began slowly to stroke in and out, letting the length of his shaft slide along the wet pink slit formed by my swollen, puffy pussy lips. I held my breath when at full stroke his cock brushed against and over my distended clit sending shivers through me. His hands slipped under me and continuing this exquisite torture, began to squeeze and pinch my nipples until my legs trembled as an orgasm moved in waves through my body.

Phillip adjusted my hips to give himself better access and depth. He fell into a practiced rhythm and soon was thrusting into me like one of Masta Brennan's prize stallions breeding a mare. I could feel his cock swell and throb inside me making me shudder at the power of his ejaculation when he came forcefully, spraying his semen, covering the ripening womb that carried his brother's baby.