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