The Breeding Shed

Story Info
Slave breeding in the antebellum south.
3.9k words
4.09
495.1k
231
29
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here

Editor's Note: this submission contains racial terms that are now (correctly) unacceptable, but were the norm in this historical period.

*

Introductionex

The antebellum period in the United States prior to the civil war saw the breeding of slaves as a lucrative enterprise. The ban in 1807 on the importation of slaves followed by the boom in export markets for cotton and tobacco over the next fifty years made the able-bodied slave a valuable commodity. The economy of the south was very much built around the availability of cheap labor and the demand for home-grown slaves flourished. Field hands were prized for their size, strength and general health whereas the servant class who worked in the main house were selected for their loyalty and docile nature. Pretty, light-skinned slaves were often a recreational purchase for the upper class plantation owners although it was not often spoken of in polite company. As rich, white males interjected their own characteristics into the slave gene pool the terms mulatto for half black, quadroon for those with ¼ black blood and octoroon for those who were one-eighth bl¬¬ack became common descriptive terms. It was not uncommon for the gentry up in the main house to have half brothers and half sisters among the slaves on the plantation.

"But she's a house nigger," Caleb argued.

"I don't care. She can bear along with the others. Her picanninis are worth just as much as theirs" retorted Sarah. "She can still work in the house as long as she's carrying. A little brown bun in her belly will remind her of her place."

Caleb was uncertain. He didn't like the idea. The breeding of their slave stock was his domain and he didn't like his wife being involved. Moreover, he didn't want a pregnant house nigger waiting on his daughters who were only a year older than her. Besides, they'd grown up with Pretty and although he knew they had watched field hands being bred he didn't think it right that, with Sarah's permission, they were planning to watch their former playmate deflowered.

"It's time they knew about the business," Sarah prattled on knowing how Caleb doted on his daughters. "There's not much young people don't know about nowadays." She didn't bother to remind him that she and the girls hardly missed a breeding recently, watching from the granary through the ill fitting boards each time Caleb loosed Tulaine on a freshening nigger wench. "Women need to know what's what," she clucked justifying their voyeurism.

But Caleb felt uneasy. Pretty was raised in the house with his own girls. She was as sweet and innocent as they were, maybe more so. To breed her seemed callous and uncalled for by any sense of decency. But Sarah always got her way or she'd sulk making everyone walk on eggs until she got over it.

Caleb suspected that the notion to breed Pretty didn't stem from just Sarah's business acumen. She was jealous of Pretty for herself and for the girls. Jealous of her good looks and her warm personality. Jealous of the way men looked at her when they came to the house. Jealous of the way he himself doted on her, treating her almost as if she was his third daughter. As a result Sarah felt Pretty had become uppity; too presumptuous of her place in the house when she was damn lucky to be there.

From the day she made up her mind until now, Sarah had watched Pretty very carefully, noting those times of the month when she was uneasy, wincing with cramps and taking from the supply of folded clothes they used as dusters and polishing rags. Sarah had plotted Pretty's menstrual cycle and found her regular to the day. By Caleb's own charts the girl's fertility would be highest tomorrow, the 22nd. She took it upon herself to tell Frank, the overseer, he had best rest Tulaine to have him ready for the task at hand, because it was going to happen whether her husband liked it or not. Lord knows Pretty would have been done before this if Caleb hadn't been saving her for whatever foolish sentimentality.

The girls were already aware of what their mother had in mind. They'd talked about it behind closed doors and although Pretty was a friend, she was also just a nigger after all. They agreed it would be fun to watch Tulaine take her virginity and they giggled in anticipation whenever the subject arose.

Pretty was oblivious to all of this. She accepted her role in the house and worked hard without complaint. There was no resentment of the privilege the sisters enjoyed. Pretty knew her place. Her mother, Molly, still worked in the main kitchen and had instilled in her daughter that the Master was always right and, by extension, so was the Missus and Mr. Caleb's daughters.

Caleb prepared the breeding room and threw down clean straw in the pen. The wooden horse was there with the leather straps hanging loose, but he didn't think he'd need it. Toulaine was a big strong boy and if he couldn't handle the likes of Pretty, he'd be surprised. "And Pretty is supposed to be the only one surprised," he thought wryly. He filled a pail with water from the cistern and placed it near a pile of clean rags. If Sarah hadn't been as insistent this could have been done without Toulaine, and with one of the younger less endowed, less intimidating bucks.

"Tomorrow night, after dinner," he thought. "And perhaps it would be neighborly to invite Abner Coulter and his son Jacob. They always seemed to fancy Pretty," he mused and had asked more than once if she was for sale. Ever since Mrs. Coulter had passed Abner was looking for a bed warmer and Jacob was not one with a lot of success with the ladies. "They'll probably get a kick out of hearing her squeal," he thought wryly.

After dinner, Sarah slipped out of the house and went down to check out the granary. She wrestled several large bales of straw into place where they could sit and watch in comfort. The double layer of boards and the crack in between let them see without being seen and she made sure that nothing was piled in front of their viewing place. She was glad it was going to be Toulaine. No sense easing her into it. It might make her girls a little more mindful of men after seeing Pretty impaled by that buck and it will be a good lesson for them to see her belly grow big for nine months. Toulaine never missed when the arithmetic had been figured proper.

At four o'clock the next day Sarah found an excuse to be standing next to Pretty. "Land-a-goshin gal!" she exclaimed. "Don't you smell like you been sloppin' those pigs! You get yourself out there and bathe your stinkin' self before I have to take another breath!"

Pretty, embarrassed by the outburst, tried to protest that she'd bathed only this morning but Sarah just blustered and shooed the girl out of the kitchen. Near tears, the eighteen-year-old hustled down to the laundry shed where the big iron bath was kept. Fortunately, there was no one else around and she was able to pump enough cool well water into the tub to get herself clean. She toweled dry and rubbed her limbs with lilac oil until her caramel skin shone with a healthy glow. She put fresh ribbons in her hair and hoped "the Missus" as they called her would no longer find her offensive.

At 6 o'clock Mr. Caleb sat down for his dinner and Pretty's mother served from the kitchen. Pretty thought it strange that she wasn't allowed to serve the family and put it down to Ms. Sarah still being angry because she had stunk so much earlier. Later, as the sun dropped below the horizon, she didn't think it odd when she was sent to the breeding shed with a message for Mr. Caleb.

He was there with Mr. Coulter and his son Jacob, a wild, unruly sort who always seemed to make trouble. The overseer, Frank, met her just inside the door and held her roughly by the arm. Two women field hands stepped out of the shadows and took charge. While Pretty squirmed and struggled, they quickly removed her clothes and left her naked in front of the waiting men.

A grinning Mr. Frank ran his hands over her breasts and belly, chuckling at the sparseness of hair between her legs. She bent over on command and the man spread her cheeks and checked her backside. "Tight as a clam," he muttered appreciatively to the others before giving her a sharp slap on her behind and telling her to stand up.

The smell of lilac and her own perspiration surrounded her as they pushed her into the main room. Pretty tried to cover herself but Mr. Frank pinched hard on her buttock ordering her to stay still. Reluctantly, she dropped her arms to her sides and felt the appreciative stares of the leering men feast on her naked charms.

"Face down or sunny side up?" Frank inquired cheerily.

"I'd like to see her face up," Jacob Coulter blurted before Mr. Caleb could speak.

"Very well then," Caleb agreed. "On her back I suppose."

They forced her down onto her back on the prickly fresh straw and Frank secured both of her hands to a post just above and behind her head. He nudged at her knees trying to coax them apart before he leaned in and whispered "Open your legs nigger. Show 'em what they want to see. There's a good girl. Don't try to hide your cunt or I'll whip your ass raw."

Pretty started to cry. Big round tears rolled down her cheeks and her chest heaved in a stifled sob. Mr. Caleb looked away but the Coulters looked pleased. Jacob Coulter in particular, had a lewd smirk on his face that filled Pretty with foreboding and made her begin to shake uncontrollably. She felt the tatters of the modesty Molly had instilled in her stripped away under their bold stares. She glanced at Mr. Caleb as a last hope for reprieve but he wouldn't look at her, busying himself instead with making an entry in his dog-eared book.

Rustling at the door announced Toulaine had arrived. He was naked and took no pains to cover the thick cudgel that swung between his legs. He looked surprised when he saw it was Pretty tied down and ready for him. She was a house nigger and had that snooty way about her, thinking she was special. "But not tonight," he thought. Tonight she was his. Tonight she was bare assed and weeping and Toulaine felt the blood rush to his groin.

"She cherry?" the elder Coulter asked Caleb and smiled with the other man's worried nod.

"Never bred," came the muttered answer.

In the granary next door, the three women had quietly settled themselves on the bales. The light from the other room shone brightly through the wide cracks. Pressing forward, they had an excellent view of the room. Sarah's heart did a flip and she felt a thrill in her belly as she saw Pretty spread out on the straw. The anguished expression of the young woman brought a smile to her face and she squeezed the hands of her daughters seated on either side of her. They could see Tulaine was stroking his semi-hard penis and walking around the frightened Pretty, proudly letting her see his stiffening manhood.

Jacob Coulter had to adjust his own trousers to accommodate his growing erection and the girls noted that. When Pretty closed her eyes to shut out the humiliating sight of the men ogling her naked body, he leaned down and squeezed hard on her nipple. Her eyes flew open and she twisted to get away from his cruel pinch. "You'd better watch," he grinned excitedly. "Don't want you to miss a thing."

Not to be deterred by good manners or fear of overstepping, he took her full breast in his hand and thoroughly felt the nubile young flesh. The nipple swelled to full tumescence, still throbbing from his pinch. Without concern for the shame she was feeling he let his hand trace over her naked belly until it rested on the furrow between her legs. She wanted to close them but at the first indication, Frank took a threatening step forward and she stopped.

Jacob's long finger slipped inside her labia probing carefully until her came across an obstruction. "She cherry all right!" he sang out. "She definitely cherry." With two fingers he spread the coral pink portal open and the men stooped to see the membrane still intact. Not content with that Jacob Coulter took a long calloused finger and slipped it into her bum. "She tight back there too," he sung out gleefully.

Pretty was sobbing again. She lay back with her legs spread wide while the man toyed with her private place. Jacob dragged his thumb over her clitoris and she heard them snicker when she jumped involuntarily. "Like that nigger?" he chortled. Pretty held her breath and bit her lip while they teased the nub from its hood sending sensation rattling through her belly.

Caleb reached for a jar of lard and was about to hand it to Toulaine when Mr. Coulter stayed his hand. "Let her feel it," he implored, and Caleb shrugged and put the crude lubricant back on the shelf. Behind the wall Sarah and the girls trembled with excitement. Toulaine knelt between Pretty's legs and holding his cock in his hand, rubbed it up and down the almost hairless seam.

"Play with her a bit," Caleb urged thinking it would go easier if she was aroused.

Toulaine pulled on the young slave's buttocks until all of her secret places were on display. The darker lips separated to once again show the pink furrow, now glistening with moisture and the experienced buck dutifully teased the puffy lips. Sensing the young woman's humiliation he wet his finger and immediately applied it to the dark whorl between her cheeks. Pretty lurched as if jolted and the men snickered. Again Toulaine touched it and she squirmed and moaned a plaintive "Noooo."

Getting a better grip he pried the cheeks apart and circled the crinkled opening with his finger. Pressing and releasing the spongy ring he amused the onlookers by getting her asshole to spasm in protest. Once more he wet his finger in the fountain of her juices and quickly pushed it past her sphincter to the first knuckle. She lurched again and squealed trying to dislodge the intruding digit but Toulaine pushed it deeper sawing it in and out as she gasped in protest.

Sarah could hardly contain herself. She squeezed her thighs together tightly and rocked on the bale of straw. Her daughters were flushed and silent as they watched mesmerized by the tableau in the pen at once both enthralled and appalled by the way the men amused themselves with Pretty.

Without any lube the finger hurt a lot. But after a few minutes Pretty relaxed, resigned to the indignity, hoping it would soon be over. It was about that time that Toulaine increased her discomfort by pushing a second finger deep into her bowels. Oblivious to her exposure, Pretty's legs flew open as she tried breathlessly to expel the trespasser, inadvertently arching the glistening pink of her opening up off of the bed of straw.

Toulaine continued pressing down on her belly with his free hand careful not to obscure the view of the onlookers. Caleb grew uncomfortable with the girl's gratuitous degradation and impatiently ordered Toulaine to "Get on with it."

The big man immediately settled between her flailing legs and nudged her labia apart with his cock.

"Make her feel it," Abner Coulter admonished and Toulaine slowly sank into her. The moment of truth came with a shrill scream that brought a smile of cognition to the men's lips. Her natural lubricant tinged pink around Touraine's cock and she groaned each time he bottomed out against her cervix.

"Get it in good and deep," Caleb admonished, intent now on having her take the first time. Toulaine folded her legs up beside her chest ensuring that every inch of her was available to his rampant cock.

Pretty was panting, trying hard to escape the burning pain from Toulaine's ramrod. On each stroke, his big broad hands gripped her buttocks and pulled her toward him driving himself into her very depths. She gasped noticeably as the big man fell into a rhythm noisily slapping his sweaty flesh against her damp skin. Each pounding thrust jostled her breasts, rubbing her nipples against his muscular chest.

Her cunt stretched around his ample cock and his coarse pubic hair tortured her clitoris on every push. As naïve as she was,Pretty knew what was building. The tension she felt down there wasn't unknown to her. Her own fingers had been there on lonely nights. But not with them watching. Mortified, she fought the feeling but it wasn't to be denied. With a tortured wail the dam burst and her body wracked with intense pleasure. Her hips thrust up to meet Toulaine and she writhed against the rope that held her hands. For several seconds she was lost in a frenzy of grunts before falling back exhausted, vanquished and surrendered to Toulaine's relentless pounding. She was a mere vessel now, a receptacle for his potent seed. A moment later he tensed and groaned shooting spurt after spurt to bathe Pretty's unprotected womb.

She whimpered as he left her. Too weak to even close her legs she lay trembling

on the straw. The overseer untied her hands and had her lie back with her legs raised to ensure Toulaine's spend was not lost.

The big buck retired quickly, aware that his job was done, and an uncomfortable Caleb left the shed soon after with Abner Coulter.

Inside the pen, Jacob was clearly not ready to have the evening end. He and Frank hung around making sure that Pretty kept her legs raised until they were sure Toulaine's sperm had stayed inside. He paced impatiently, enjoying the girl's nakedness and the distress it brought her.

For his part, the overseer, Mr. Frank, was pleased to have the shapely house nigger under his control for a few hours. He'd often seen her when he'd had occasion to go up to the house and liked what he saw. She was certainly better to look at than the average field hand. It was usual for him to keep the newly bred in the pen for a few hours before putting them back in their quarters and he intended to do just that..

"What do you think Caleb would take for her?" the young Coulter asked.

"Don't rightly know," Frank stalled. "She a house nigger and Mr. Caleb don't often sell none of those."

I can sell this one in 'N'Orleans for a lot if I can buy her reasonable.

With that Pretty began to cry. The prospect of being sold far away from her momma was terrifying.

"What's that? You don't like that girl?" Jacob taunted. "I can sell you as mulatto or quadroon to a whorehouse down there and won't never have to see you again. You don't like that?"

Too distraught to answer, Pretty just shook her head.

Jacob pulled her up on her knees then. Cupping her chin he ran his thumb over her full lips. "Well maybe you just show us how much you want to stay."

On the other side of the wall Sarah and the girls looked on in astonishment. Stunned by Jacob's audacity with their property, they nonetheless didn't move or make a sound. It would take but a word to Caleb to put a stop to this but, they were too interested in watching what was going to happen to Pretty to intervene.

Pretty turned her head to the side but Jacob caught her jaw in a vice grip forcing her mouth open with his thumb.

"Stick out you' tongue girl," he demanded. When Pretty complied he pressed two fingers deep in her mouth until she gagged bringing a chuckle to the overseer who looked on.

Jacob quickly unbuttoned his trousers and fished out his cock. Pretty tried to shrink away but her caught her by the hair and pulled her face to his groin.

"You goin` suck it niggah" he promised. "You goin' suck it nice."

Pretty teared up as Jacob pushed his cock in and she choked as it hit the back of her throat. Grinning evilly Jacob sawed in and out as saliva dripped from the frightened girl`s chin. Her eyes wide with fright she tried to follow his directions running her thick pink tongue all over the sensitive end already wet with his precum. His right hand dropped to her throat and squeezed with his thumb until she gasped around his cock in panic.

"Now you keep suckin' good niggah or I just might choke you out."

12