Jacqueline de Belleville Pt. 05

Part 5 - Jacqueline's Surprise

Chapter 13: The Ladybird

"Do you think we'll ever get to see the world outside of Wadi Halaf again?" asks Julia while we are lying side by side in her bed.

Hassan may not have wanted thirty two young women deposited into his harem at Wadi Halaf, but he's not going to simply set us free. The deal struck by Hassan's uncle with our kidnapper Nathaniel Wickliffe involved a large amount of money. How much money is a closely guarded family secret, but it is money that will be recovered from the ransoms paid by the wealthy relations of those of us who have wealthy relations. However, like me, Julia has little prospect of someone paying the ransom demanded for our freedom. Which means that for us, the alternative to a life spent behind these luxurious prison walls is for Hassan to sell us in one of the slave markets in Salé. I can't say that either option excites me.

"I refuse to believe the rest of my life will be spent as a slave inside a harem," I reply. "I've escaped from worse situations in the past."

"Really?" says Julia with a hint of disbelief in her voice. "Have you escaped from slavery before?"

"As a matter of fact, I have," I reply. "A kind of escape, anyway."

"How many different kinds of escape are there?" asks Rebecca, who is listening intently to Julia's and my pillow talk.

Our conversation reminds me that A'isha has instructed me to write a story about that particular incident. She'll be expecting me to get on with the task this morning so that I'll be finished in time for our dancing practise this afternoon. I've enjoyed Julia's naked body snuggled next to me overnight. Julia is inexperienced in the art of sex, but she at least responded in kind to my roving hands massaging her tits and teasing her cunt and clit. I took things slowly last night. While nobody inside the harem seems to mind us having sex with one another, I feel we should at least keep the noise down. Julia gets very vocal when I arouse her, so I might have to consider shoving something in her mouth to keep her quiet. But that's something for tonight since it's time for us to set about our daily tasks before Samed starts encouraging us with his cane. I complete my morning ablutions and grab something to eat before settling down to write my story.

It's April 1808, and my situation is as dire as a dire situation can get. I've surrendered myself to my hated enemy, the pirate Eduardo Pardal in order to save the crew and passengers of my ship from being murdered by Pardal and his crew. Pardal locks me in irons and ties me to the mast of the Estremadura the moment I step on board his ship. I'm kept there for days while we sail west to the island of Martinique in the Caribbean. On arrival, Pardal sells me to some local merchants who aren't too bothered about the questionable legality of selling a white woman as a slave.

However the whole sordid deal does Eduardo Pardal no good. While he is negotiating my sale, his ship is caught at anchor by an English frigate and the pirating career of Pardal and his crew comes to a sudden and violent end. I only learn about Padal's demise some weeks later since my attention at the time is focused on my own immediate future.

"Are you sure you can pass her off as a mixed-blood, Jedediah?" asks one of the merchants. "You know the penalty for trying to sell white women into slavery."

The man's comments illustrate the double standards of both the French and the English. My natural olive brown skin has become darker from my time spent tied to the mast of Pardal's ship on the way here. At first glance I could be taken for a Mulatto ... a half-caste of mixed European and African descent. Which isn't an uncommon feature in these parts, being the consequence of white plantation owners regularly fucking their black slave women. That makes me prime meat for the local slave markets. What would make a purchaser suspicious, however, is that my bone structure and facial features expose my almost pure European heritage.

"She's got black hair and her skin is brown enough to pass her off as a mixed-blood. She's pretty enough that any plantation owner is going to want his dick between her legs without worrying too much about whether she's white or a Mulatto."

The air of confidence displayed by the man calling himself Jedediah isn't mirrored by his actions. There's no dragging me off to some slave trader's compound before putting me on an auction block for public sale. My slide into slavery is through private viewings and backroom negotiations, the details of which I never find out. The secrecy spares me some of the humiliation associated with public slave auctions, but that's about all. I've known fear many times in my life, but this is one of the few occasions when I've been terrified. I literally feel sick.

"Is she a virgin?" asks one prospective buyer as he paws me like a piece of ripe fruit.

"I doubt it," replies Jedediah. "Does it matter? Look at her. You can't tell me that some man hasn't rammed his cock in her all holes before now."

I'm under strict instructions not to say anything in case my accent betrays my origins. Jedediah wasn't too specific about the consequences of my disobedience, but I doubt that I'd like whatever punishment he intends to dish out. I'm too downcast to resist and I meekly put up with being prodded and poked by the handful of exclusive clients invited to examine me.

"Does she have a name?" asks another client.

"Buy her and she'll answer to any name that you like," laughs Jedediah.

"Why is there a tattoo on her cunt?" asks another.

"Her former owner had a fetish for tattooing his slaves. A pussy on her pussy. Quite apt if you think about it."

Hmmm. Jedediah might have guessed the 'pussy on her pussy' bit correctly, but it was my choice to be tattooed there during a rather pleasant stopover in Jamaica several years ago.

"What about her arse?" asks one client. "Can she take a man's cock in her arse?"

"Take a look if you like."

I'm made to bend over and display my bare arse for the client. He takes his time in his appraisal and he's not too gentle about it. Only Jedediah's intervention stops the man from shoving his cock in my arse.

"Good and wide," muses the client. "Bet she's been buggered many times in her life."

I don't know the details of the negotiations between Jedediah and Raoul, the client who eventually acquires me. I'm just glad my buyer isn't one of the clients who has been roughly handling me earlier. As it turns out Raoul has bought me on behalf of his employer, a plantation owner on the far side of the island. As slave overseers go Raoul isn't unnecessarily harsh or cruel, but he's experienced enough to make sure that I'm never given the opportunity to escape. The heavy shackles Pardal had put on me are replaced by lighter ones provided by Raoul, but they are just as effective at restraining me.

"What's your name?" asks Raoul as I walk behind his horse along a dirt road leading away from the town of Saint Pierre.

"Jacqueline," I reply, seeing no reason to antagonise Raoul by being surly.

"Sounds French. Your father was a Frenchman then?"

"Yes. He was a Comte ... a Count," I say.

"That figures. No matter their nationality the nobles are always dipping their wick into those less fortunate. So, do you understand French?"

"I can speak English, French and Spanish," I reply.

"Hmm ... You might find that a useful skill on the plantation. Play your cards right and you might earn a few privileges as an interpreter. The islands hereabouts are a melting pot of nationalities, but most people will speak one of the three languages you speak."

I don't feel inclined to initiate a conversation, and Raoul soon runs out of questions. The road winds its way around a hill before passing several plantations. Most are sugar plantations, but according to Raoul, some owners are gradually switching to producing coffee. I know nothing about growing coffee, although I've sampled drinks made from coffee a couple of times. The toffs seem to like coffee, but I don't think it'll ever be a popular drink.

Eventually we arrive at our destination. It's a large plantation called La Coccinelle, the Ladybird. The slaves working in the sugar cane fields pay no attention to us as Raoul rides up to the main house with me following behind. After days being confined to the mast of Pardal's ship my feet are unused to so much exercise. They ache from the long walk from Saint Pierre but fortunately I've no blisters.

"Wait here," says Pardal as he leaves me standing in an outhouse next to what appears to be the kitchen.

Those working in the kitchen briefly look at me with curiosity, but they otherwise ignore me. I would sit down and rest my feet if I had the courage. But my normal resilience seems to have deserted me recently and I don't seem able to shake off the malaise which has affected me ever since I surrendered to Pardal.

"Mistress Brigitte will see you now," says Raoul from the doorway.

I follow Raoul into the main part of the large house. I've been inside a few plantation houses during my time sailing around the Caribbean onboard the Zafiro, but La Coccinelle is very different from most. Usually the furniture and decor reflect a masculine taste but this one has a much more feminine look and feel about it.

"What have you bought us this time, Raoul?" asks a woman dressed in enough finery to identify her as the mistress of the house.

"Her name is Jacqueline, ma'am," replies Raoul. "She's young and healthy. I thought she'd be a good addition to your ... umm ... special collection."

"I see," replies Mistress Brigitte. "Very well. I shall discuss your recommendation with my husband when her returns. Remove her chains and provide her with more appropriate clothing. Make sure she understands our rules and the penalty for trying to escape. Put her in one of the huts for now. She can start work in the morning."

"Yes, ma'am. Follow me Jacqueline."

Appropriate clothing means the Empire dress Eduardo Pardal had me wear is swapped for a rough cotton dress identical to those the women in the fields were wearing when we arrived. Obviously it won't do for a slave to be dressed as a fine lady, even though it undoubtedly helped Jedediah to negotiate a better price for my sale. As for the house rules, it's simply a matter of doing as I'm told without question or face being locked in a cage as a penance. The small hanging cages dangling from a stout frame near the slave huts are a stark reminder of the penalty for wrongdoing. An adult could only just about fit inside one.

"The cages are rarely used," says Raoul in an attempt to reassure me. "Just do as you are told and stay on the plantation, and you'll never be confined inside one of those cages."

At least my chains are removed and I'm allowed to clean myself up. Raoul watches me as I wash and change my clothes. So many men have seen me naked before that I pay no mind to him watching me. In better times I might flirt with my admirer, but I'm not in the mood to do that in my current circumstances.

"That bed is yours," says Raoul, collecting my old clothes. "The other slaves will finish work in an hour, so I suggest you use your time to rest. When the others arrive make yourself known to Peg and have her show you the routine. She'll see that you receive a meal."

Raoul leaves me to rest. I'm too nervous to sleep but my feet appreciate the break. When the other slaves arrive I discover that Peg is one of the older women on the plantation. This hut is the quarters for fifteen women slaves of varying ages along with four children. Considering their sorry lot in life, the women appear to be healthy. Judging by their friendly chatter, they seem reasonably content with their life at La Coccinelle. It's an encouraging sign in what has otherwise been a gloomy day.

Peg shows me the routine at meal times. She makes sure that I understand which activities are allowed and those that are forbidden. Unlike on some other plantations, sexual liaisons between slaves are permitted by our owners. There are no shortage of men and women taking advantage of that dispensation.

"Go with Hanna if you are in the mood for a man's cock," says Peg. "But be sure you are back here by lock-up time."

"How do I know when that will be?" I ask.

"Listen out for the bell. When you hear it you will have five minutes to return."

Hanna is about my age and her ebony skin leaves no doubt that she's a full blooded African. Most of the other slaves are mixed bloods and only a few are pure Africans. I've the palest skin of those I've seen so far. Regardless of race, there appears to be a general camaraderie among the slaves. I'm accepted into their community without question. I don't look forward to spending my life as a slave, but I've seen far worse plantations than La Coccinelle.

"Did you displease someone to end up here?" asks Hanna as we walk towards a barn with eight other men and women.

"An old enemy got the better of me and I'm paying the price for my failure."

"With a body like yours you could improve your situation on the plantation."

"Do you mean that if I let the right people fuck me, I'll be rewarded?" I ask.

"Precisely! But be careful. Try not to end up with a bun in your oven unless you want to end up giving birth in the fields while you work. The overseers might put a pregnant woman on light duties, but there's no such thing as time off work for a slave."

"And yet you and the other women here are happy to run that risk."

"What else is there for us to do. We sleep, we work, we fuck, and then we sleep again. Enjoy life while you can because it isn't going to get any better."

I don't necessarily accept Hanna's defeatist attitude, but she's been a slave far longer than I. Will I feel like her after a few months of this life?

"Are you going to introduce our newest member, Hanna?" says one of the men when we are all gathered in the barn.

"This is ... umm," says Hanna, suddenly realising she hasn't asked for my name.

"Jacqueline," I say. "My friends call me Jackie."

"Do you know what goes on in this barn, Jackie?" asks another of the men.

"Peg said this was the place to come if I wanted to get fucked," I reply.

"Hah! Indeed it is! And which of us fine specimens takes your fancy? Or do you prefer sex with a woman?"

I think carefully before answering. There will be established relationships among those here and if I pick someone's partner then I could end up making trouble for myself.

"Which of you is unattached? I'll not steal another woman's man." I say.

I'm not being entirely honest. There had been several sailors on the Zafiro who had wives and sweethearts in distant ports. That didn't stop them from wanting to bugger my arse, nor did it stop me from letting them. But there's no point in creating enemies here if I can avoid it.

"Toby is mine," says one of the women.

Two other women claim their regular partners, leaving Hanna and I with the two men who spoke to me.

"These are Jubal and Luke," says Hanna as she removes her dress. "Have you ever done a foursome before, Jackie?"

I'm not sure how to answer her question. If I say that I've had sex with three of the Zafiro's crew at the same time it would make it sound as though I am boasting. To be honest, I prefer a one-to-one situation, but I'm always open to new experiences.

"Umm ... No ... Not with two men and another woman at the same time," I reply.

"Well now is a good time to start," laughs Hanna as she reaches for Jubal's cock.

I follow Hanna's lead and remove my dress. Then I move over towards Luke. He's already naked and his cock is standing to attention. This is familiar territory for me and I waste no time in taking a firm grip and massaging it until he starts moaning in pleasure. I start to give him a blow job but Hanna interrupts my play. Hanna clearly wants me to share my attentions with her and Jubal. I'm not entirely sure why since Jubal seems content to fuck her alone. Luke is likewise enjoying having his cock in my mouth and he's eager to plough me. But Hanna is quite persistent. Rather than spoil the occasion I let her stand behind me and rub my tits, while I take the two men's cocks in either hand.

Before long I realise that the one person Hanna really wants sex with is me. But she doesn't want to leave Jubal and Luke unsatisfied, so she's suggested a foursome. The situation is a new one to me, but I've enough imagination to try and make this work. I turn around and kiss Hanna on the lips. She wraps her arms around my neck as she responds enthusiastically to the kiss. My hands roam down Hanna's back until I'm holding her arse. I break the kiss and bend forward, briefly kissing each of her nipples before pushing my face between her legs. She parts her legs with a sigh and lets my tongue delve deep into her cunt.

I'm careful to position myself so that my arse is exposed to the two men. I suspect they've been rubbing their cocks while I've been preoccupied with Hanna. Now Luke accepts my open invitation to fuck me and he rams his cock up my arse. I don't stop my assault on Hanna's cunt while Luke's monster of a cock is reaming my arse. Luke has a good strong shaft and his steady back and forth motion soon has my arousal building towards an orgasm. In the meantime Jubal isn't idle. He's moved to stand beside me and I can sense him masturbating furiously.

Hanna is writhing helplessly as my tongue starts to work on her clit. I can't see what is going on behind my back, but I doubt Jubal is ignoring Hanna's generous tits.

Several things happen in quick succession. Luke's cock suddenly spews its seed into my innards. Shortly followed by Jubal depositing a load of cum on my bare back. Hanna and I have an orgasm at almost the same moment. The four of us almost collapse in a heap from the exertion. I don't know how the others feel about what has just happened, but I'm all for doing it again.

Unfortunately we don't get a chance tonight. The bell signalling the five minute warning before lock-up means we must quickly dress and return to our huts. We all make it back in time although I didn't have time to clean the cum off my back. There's not much I can do about that tonight and I settle down on my bed ready for a much needed sleep. I'm sure tomorrow will be every bit as challenging as today.

Chapter 14: A Big Surprise

The following morning we are woken about dawn by the ringing of the bell. I follow the example of the others and prepare myself for whatever the day holds in store for me. The other slaves form themselves into groups ready for one of the overseers to march their group off to whatever task is required of them today. Nobody has told me which group I should join, so I stand to one side like a lost sheep. Fortunately Raoul doesn't leave me lingering for long and assigns me to one of the groups. I'm one of three women in the group, which also consists of eight men and two older girls. Moments later another overseer leads my group away to harvest sugar cane.

The work is demanding but no more so than sailing a ship in rough weather. Except that rough weather at sea doesn't usually last forever, whereas our backbreaking work in the fields is never ending. I do my best to settle into my life on La Coccinelle plantation and I make many friends among the slaves. Jubal and Luke are especially friendly towards me, although I suspect that it may partly be due to my arsehole being wide enough to accommodate their huge cocks. I make it a rule never to allow a man to fuck my cunt, which both men seem happy to respect. I've no herbs to prevent pregnancy and I'm mindful of Hanna's warning on the day I arrived here.

Hanna and I don't confine our sexual activity to sessions in the barn. She regularly slips into my bed at night and we both sleep naked side by side. On more than one occasion I've woken in the night to find Hanna with her face buried between my legs. I'm often too tired to respond, but I've no intention of stopping her from taking her pleasure. My juices seem to flow without any conscious effort on my part. The other night I couldn't work out whether I had an orgasm in my dreams or whether the orgasm was real courtesy of Hanna's tongue. Hanna doesn't seem to mind my lack of active response, although I do occasionally make an effort to bring her to an orgasm before falling back to sleep.