Diary Of A Plantation Slave Ch 06

Author's Note: This is the finale to this 6-part series. Thanks to all who've come;) this far. All themes mentioned in previous chapters apply to this one, but as always please look at the tags, as there is mention of scat and nonconsensual toilet play. If any of these themes offend or disgust you in any way, feel free to skip reading. Everyone else, enjoy!

Saturday, December 24th, 1811

3 months later...

"Welcome ladies and gentlemen, good to see ya'!" Master Cryer's voice boomed as he opened the door to a mass of white folks grinning ear to ear. Masters and Mistresses Wyatt and Priscilla Deremonte, Wade and Kelcy Capone, Jerald and Nora Kettleton, and Garret and Rhea Gibson all trickled in, bellies and arms extended to reunite with their pals.

"Good to see you too, Cain and Doris! It's been too long!"

It seemed like any gracious reunion with the Cryers and their guests, filled with Christmas cheer as they laughed, gossiped and ate into their hearty meals. All seemed joyous if not for the two negro slaves waiting on the party buck naked to serve the bushels of corn, ham hocks, sweet potato pie, pork sausages, cheese-fried chicken and baked beans they requested. The table of white folks ate and ate until they looked ready to burst out of their tightly-fit corsets and suits.

"Another great supper, Cain. I almost didn't leave enough room for dessert!" Master Wade Capone said as he idly fondled negro slave Mayella's bare breasts.

"Well as a reminder tonight is for you all to have just a taste of 'em 'fore we get to trainin' your young bucks." Master Cryer cackled, cupping Albee's balls firm as he said this.

Mayella and Albee could only look on with pained expressions on their faces as they were made to be the spectacle of the event.

"Two niggers ain't enough, Cain! With tonight's course we gon' need some workin' overtime!" Master Garret Gibson's voice boomed and they all broke into chuckles.

Master Cryer smirked. "Of course, Garret. Mayella and Albee here are just the appetizer. Say hello to the entire feast!"

He pulled off a blanket on the dining room floor to reveal every single last slave of the Cryer plantation splayed out, stripped naked, and tied up like hogs. Broderick, Madden, Khadijah, Darla, Johanna, May, Tatia, and the names of more Mayella wished she'd known.

"Wheeew-wee!" Master Wyatt Deremonte, a round porky man sidled up to them to admire the pack like they were caseins of meat being served on a platter. "So many bucks and queens we don't know which ones to take!"

"I've been waitin' on this for so long!" A new pale face to the pack, Mistress Nola Kettleton, bit her lip moaning as she clutched her husband's arm. "We definitely ought to bring our own slaves with us next time to share the fun."

"Well we won't have y'all waitin' any longer." Mistress Cryer said as she dragged each of the hogtied slaves to the center of the room. Panic flashed in each and every brown face. "Dig in!"

No sooner had she said that, the white wives and their husbands joined each other in the living room to kick off the real party. The men hastily discarded their clothes to the floor and let their sweaty stomachs hang out and willies stand to full attention in their naked glory. The ladies followed suit, making attempts to strip out of their clothes elegantly, but still drenched with arousal as they surveyed the tied up negro toilets at their disposal.

The slaves could only watch, wide-eyed with fear as the slavers put their quivering holes to use.

Mistress Priscilla and Master Wyatt Deremonte stripped butt naked. As President of the Chatham County Women's Society and personal endorser of Mistress Cryer's philosophy on slave toilet domestication, Mistress Priscilla (and her husband by proxy) got first pickings.

The voluminous woman's monstrous asscheeks jiggled as she advanced on the slaves, her cherry nipples sitting high, belly bulging from her meal. Her eyes twinkled with delight as she pulled the slave cook Khadijah by her reigns and positioned her rump right over the slave's mouth.

"Go easy, Prissy," Master Deremonte teased as he lined his own beefy cock into the tight virgin hole of Khadijah's mate, Broderick. The dark-skinned male slave trembled, whimpering in earnest at the sudden invasion of his backdoor by the greasy white man.

"I'm trying - oh but this meal was so good. Ungh, I think a big one's coming up outta me!" Mistress Priscilla moaned. She squatted on the floor, staring with awe as her husband mounted his dark-skinned slave, pounding the slave's purple plum raw until the two's sweaty ball sacks were slapping into each another. She let out another grunt as her stomach gurgled, her rectum expanding to push out her bean-filled log into its victim.

Khadijah caught a whiff of the rotten bean and corn fix emanating from the white woman's asshole and instantly gagged, trying to twist away, but the restraints on her legs and mouth pinned her in place. The wide-eyed slave gasped as the woman's rectum expanded to the size of her forearm as she was forced to consume the steamy brown batter like a baby bird being fed its pre-chewed dinner.

"Compliments to the chef," Mistress Priscilla grunted as she expelled her bowels of the thick stew bubbling in her stomach. As she did, a riptide of farts let loose from her anus, a ripe porridge-like emission that curled through the air and squelched out brown slush flecked with bits of undigested corn. The buxom woman patted her belly in relief as she enjoyed feeding the hearty 'meal' back to the slave who'd made it.

On the other side of the room, the Capones and Kettletons were having their own fun. The two couples made a train on the slaves Darla, Johanna, Madden, May, and Tatia. The men each had a sturdy negro woman to fuck missionary style, and a second negro strapped to their sweaty assholes, ensuring their taints were getting properly cleaned. Mistress Kelcy Capone and Mistress Nora Kettleton were moaning, backs pressed to one another as they enjoyed the sensation of their pussies licked by the negro women being mounted by their husbands.

Poor Madden, the chocolate male slave who was trapped underneath the 8 of them, forced to capture whatever liquid remnants the couples left in their lust-fueled fucking while simultaneously being impaled by the Gibsons on his other end. But the majority of the tax was on the female slaves who were pulled in every direction with no hole left unturned.

Last but not least was the married duo who had started it all, Master Cain Cryer and Mistress Doris Cryer. Cain and Doris Cryer had had quite a few ups and downs in their 12-year marriage, but one thing they could agree on was the beauty of claiming a negro's mouth and feeding it their waste. Mistress Cryer treated herself to Mayella, pulling the slave girl further into her ass cheeks as she released her chocolate essence down the slave girl's throat; while Master Cryer had Albee lock-jawed on his cock, slurping his warm piss. The two slaves sighed in exasperation from being used as the receptacles of their masters.

"I think I'm 'bout to burst!" Mistress Nora wailed, riding Darla's mouth deeper into her glistening folds. Mistress Kelcy echoed the same.

"I'm fixin' to load a good one in this here negro," Master Deremonte panted, cusping Broderick's full balls in his hands as he prepared to empty his own.

"Looks like we all just 'bout ready," Mistress Priscilla moaned, lost in the feel of her waste going down Khadijah's throat. She rubbed her hairy pussy furiously, raw with lust. "Here...it ...comes!"

"Aagghhh!"

"Unnnggghh!"

"Oh my... god!"

"Sweet Lord!"

Like a tidal wave, the body-shattering orgasms bounced between the couples, from the Deremontes to the Kettletons, to the Capones, to the Gibsons and finally the Cryers. The couples threw their heads back, moaning in ecstasy as they shared a bond that couldn't be replicated, the joining of a master with his slave, a man with his toilet, every negro hole at the mercy and service of the white man and woman as the good Lord intended.

"Fold these people's clothes on their chairs, would you Reesus," came Master Cryer's voice seemingly out of thin air. Old Man Reesus stared as the man 30 years his junior whom he called Master strutted stark naked reeking the stench of his sin. He patted Reesus on the shoulder like he was some poor lost child. "It's gon' get quite messy in here and we wouldn't want 'em to get dirty. You understand."

Reesus blinked in half shock but could only mumble, "Yessuh, Master Cryer." He bent over and grabbed their clothes strewn across the floor.

In the corner of the room, Reesus could see all the sick perverse commotion take fold as the white folks took their turns sodomizing, urinating and defecating on all of the negro slaves. His gray eyebrows creased as he shook his head, seared with sorrow.

"That Mayella, if only she'd listened to me," He said to himself, lurking in the background so that the rest of the guests couldn't see him.

After 49 years on the Cryer Plantation, Reesus had seen a thing or two take place. He lived it with Pappy Cryer and now he was seeing it in the flesh with Cain Cryer III, his wife and their sinister friends.

White people were the sickest devil he knew, and you couldn't run from a devil. You did the only thing you could do: keep your head low, do the work, and hope they didn't notice you enough to suck your soul dry.

As he looked on, he wondered if had Mayella and the others not gone through with the plan, things would've been different and all the slaves could've been left alone without being forever traumatized by the Cryers.

But he knew deep inside it was no use. The Cryers valued no such thing and spared no one. He'd have to sit through this ordeal until the day he died, and watch as the next generation of slaves came to the plantation to meet their new twisted fate.