Hanna had been a slave her entire life: It was all that she knew. She was the product of the white Master taking advantage of her ebony mother nineteen years ago and her light brown skin and light brown eyes made it obvious to everyone on the plantation who her daddy was. Her physical traits did not make her a complete pariah amongst the other slaves, but it did not help. On the flip side, the fact that she was obviously the offspring of a white man did come with some advantages. One such advantage was that she became a house slave at the age of fifteen which kept her out of the hot sun picking cotton ten hours a day, six days a week.
Punishments for breaking the rules on the plantation ranged from extremely uncomfortable to downright brutal. Being an attractive, light skinned slave had several times saved Hanna from punishment, but it seemed as if her luck had finally run out.
Hanna now found herself stripped down to her undergarments, nude from the waist up, kneeling on the dirt floor in one of the several bungalows used to imprison disobedient slaves. Her hands were cuffed behind her back and her bare feet were shackled closely together. The sets of restraints were connected with a short, six-inch chain which created a version of a hogtie, but Hanna was able to adjust her position from kneeling to lying down but it was not easy. Her ample breasts made the task a bit more difficult.
The heat in the tin-roofed bungalow was the worst part of Hanna's confinement, which was of course by design. She began to sweat profusely after just ten minutes in the hotbox and she was extremely uncomfortable. The time increments between switching positions from kneeling to lying on her side or stomach became increasingly less as Hanna swapped one discomfort with another. Dirt that was slightly darker than her sweaty, mocha skin was accumulating as she rolled around on the floor and soon she was splattered in crusty mud.
Hanna had been overtly breaking a certain rule in the house for several weeks, with no repercussions until now. William was the son of the Master whom Hanna was rather fond of, and openly flirting with him had finally caught up with her. William himself had a thing for the sexy slave and rather enjoyed Hanna's antics; getting caught making out with her was nothing he had ever wished to have happen.
But here we are: Hanna suffering through her punishment and William forbidden to so much as be in the same vicinity of Hanna.
The pretty slave had been squirming around for several hours before the door to the bungalow opened and an overseer stepped inside. "You look like a mess, Hanna," he said. Being a house slave meant that most of the white workers at the plantation knew Hanna's name.
Hanna, currently kneeling, fixed her gaze towards the door and squinted enough to make out the silhouette of the overseer whom she recognized as Andrew. "This is miserable, sir," she answered.
Warren was the name of the overseer who had trussed up Hanna and left her to swelter in the bungalow. He was a smaller man and not nearly as good looking as Andrew, who was tall with broad shoulders and a chiseled jaw.
Andrew and most of the other overseers were very fond of Hanna. She was attractive, smart and well spoken. If it came down to it and Hanna was sentenced to meet the fate of the bullwhip, there was a good chance that the overseers would make another slave crack the whip.
"It's time," Andrew said. He approached the mud-covered beauty with a ring of keys and detached the short chain connecting her manacles. He remained behind the slave as she struggled to her feet and wrapped his large arms around her while she gained her balance. It was not a blatant effort to rub his erect penis against Hanna's backside, but it happened nonetheless. "Not gonna take off the leg irons or wrist chains. Sorry," he said and released his grasp. "I'll add this, though," he said, holding up a length of hemp rope that would soon become her leash.
"Ugg," Hanna replied, rolling her shoulders to get out some kinks that had set in; the stiff penis of the overseer did not go unnoticed and her mud covered nipples hardened a bit.
The short chain connecting Hanna's ankles made it a slow, excruciating walk to the "punishment" corral and the sporadic tugs at her leash didn't help. The distance was less than a hundred yards, but navigating the gravel path on bare, fettered feet was brutal. The five minute walk seemed like a mile.
The plantation punishments were always carried out at a time when all of the slaves had a chance to witness them. Today's session was to take place in the blazing two o'clock heat, which gave the other slaves a rare respite from their work in the fields.
The field slaves had already assembled when Hanna painfully shuffled her way to the wooden structure in the middle of the courtyard. This structure resembled a modern day jungle gym and it had four sides, each designed to uniquely punish a slave.
It was about a fifty-fifty split between the slaves: half cherished the sight of Hanna's humiliation and half couldn't bear to watch. As Hanna was led past the north side of the structure she spied two sets of stocks that she had witnessed myriad misbehaving slaves' locked up in. In fact, her mother had once had her bare feet clamped between the heavy timbers of the stocks. The overseers had been gracious enough to allow Hanna to give her mother drinks of water and rub her aching ankles and feet while confined. When slaves were sentenced to the stocks, they were stripped from the waist up and their hands were tied behind their backs. The seat the punished slave was forced to sit on was nothing more than a two-inch by six-inch board that was affixed with the narrow end up: very uncomfortable to sit on for several hours.
Not gonna be the stocks for me today,
Hanna mused as she was led around to the east side of the structure, the side that was typically used to punish a misbehaving slave's bare feet. At least that is what Hanna had witnessed in the past. Bastinado is what they had planned for her, and most likely something else...
Andrew released his grasp of Hanna and then waved over two younger male field slaves who each had a large bucket of water. One at a time, they tossed the contents onto Hanna to remove some of the filth she had accumulated struggling around in the bungalow.
Andrew's strong hands grasped her by the shoulders and forced her down to a kneeling position on a wooden platform that was only up off the ground by a few inches. He removed the leash from her neck and the leg irons and then positioned her so that her bare feet were dangling over the edge of the platform and he swiftly lashed her ankles to the wood, using leather straps that were attached.
The overseer, a true lover of female feet, could not help but admire Hanna's soft, soles. They were the soles of a house slave who had access to the Mistress's pummel stone and the expensive oils that were kept in the master bedroom.
Without addressing the assembly, Andrew grabbed the thick strap that he would use to whip Hanna's soles. The overseer had applied that very strap to dozens of slaves previously, but none of them as gorgeous as Hanna. He had never once broken the skin of a slave with this strap, but he knew that it caused excruciating pain.
Bastinado was one of the milder forms of punishment at the plantation that was usually dedicated to individuals who committed minor infractions. Slaves who had experienced multiple forms of punishment debated which was worse, eight hours in the stocks or the bastinado; neither was pleasant and good arguments for both sides were presented.
