Confederate America's Time Travel

Hi, there. My name is Lucia Mendel Shanks. I'm a slender, red-haired and green-eyed Irishwoman living in the city of Brockton, Massachusetts. Welcome to my world. Recently, I found myself filled with dread about the state of the world. I simply didn't like the way it was starting to treat me and all others like me. I felt like we were under assault from all sides simply for being who and what we are. Fortunately, I am member of an organization which can change things. In the most drastic of ways. What is this organization? The Time Travelers Club. A secret society of men and women who work to preserve human history. They've existed for a long time, working to protect the world by preventing the worst disasters from ever taking place. At least, that's what they were all about until I came along. Let's just say that this Irish hussy knows how to shake things up.

A radical faction within the Club, led by yours truly, took over. And we traveled through time in the pursuit of power. We returned to 1860s North America, and helped the South win the Civil War. The Confederate Army won, and restored slavery in all fifty states. The rest of world placed an embargo around the United States after America refused to follow Europe's example and ban slavery. Slavery is illegal in Europe, Africa, South America and Asia. It's also illegal in Australia. The leaders of just about every country in the Western Hemisphere banned slavery completely by the close of the 1860s. And as of 1950, most European countries had granted their independence to their colonies around the planet.

Here in Confederate America, fifty nine years later, we're still not like those bleeding hearts of Europe. No way. We firmly believe in the ways of our ancestors. Southern values and viewpoints are now mainstream American values and viewpoints. From the city of Atlanta to Washington D.C. From the town of Boston to urban Dallas. That's the new world order, folks. If you don't like it, kiss my pasty white ass. Our little jaunt in time really shook things up. When we returned to the twenty-first century, we found it refreshingly different. And that's what this story is all about.

As I walked through the streets of Brockton after my last journey through time, I was amazed. I saw men and women walking the streets. And I saw that slavery was still very much legal. I saw a tall Black woman with a leash around her neck carrying groceries for a waifish red-haired woman right outside of Shaw's Supermarket. I also saw a burly white guy smoking a cigarette and chatting with his wife while his slave, a burly Black guy, filled his minivan with gasoline. I looked around and smiled. Wow. At last, the world was as it should be! Yeah! I felt so happy I actually jumped for joy. Then I went into a nearby auction house and bought myself a slave. Just because I could, you know. Ever heard of impulse buying? Women do it all the time. It's just that instead of buying shoes or accessories, I bought myself a slave.

I went to the auction house and bought myself a nice slave. A six-foot-tall, busty, heavyset and big-bottomed Black woman named Bernadine Bernavil. She had been bred in a slave pen in the state of Louisiana. This twenty-year-old Black female slave was well-bred and well-trained. So I paid the three hundred dollars and took her home. I couldn't wait to break her in. Although all slaves are broken in early in life, according to the owner's manual, a second and sometimes third session of breaking in is needed. Some of them are more stubborn than mules, apparently. That's why the auction house gave a new electrically charged prod to every new slave owner. I couldn't wait to try it on Bernadine.

When I looked Bernadine in the eye, she looked down. How different she was from the twenty-first century Black women I knew from my previously unchanged timeline. Gone was the sass and the loud mouth along with the daring, defiant eyes. Bernadine had a defeated look on her face. The look that a lifetime of slavery brings. I smiled, savoring that look. It's a look every white person in this changed timeline takes for granted because that's the world they've always known. I come from a radically different timeline. A timeline where Black people are free, and there are Black athletes, Black professionals, Black college students and Black politicians. Hell, there was even a Black president of the United States in my old timeline. Now things were changed. I intended to savor it.

I almost orgasm when I think of the wonderfully devious things I'm going to do to Bernadine. I remembered all the things loud-mouthed Black women did to me in my old timeline. When I was a high school senior, a Black chick named Shamika Brown stole my blonde-haired and green-eyed boyfriend Larry Vermont from me. Apparently, I wasn't sexy enough for him anymore. He caught a terminal case of jungle fever the first time he laid eyes on that busty and big-bottomed Black female basketball player. And so he ditched me. The same thing happened to me in college. I was going out with a tall, green-eyed and dark-haired Caucasian male named Anderson. He was captain of the football team. The guy all the gals on campus wanted. And I was his devoted girlfriend. One night I caught him in the arms of Tyrone, a gay Black man who was notorious for his flamboyance. Yeah, apparently Anderson was bisexual and didn't bother telling me. In grad school, I got kicked out of the program because I said something racially insensitive to a Black male professor in a moment of anger. Yeah, I was angry. And now you know why.

I could tell you about all the mean and sexy things I did to Bernadine, my tall Black female slave. But that would take a book. Instead I'm going to tell you about the most ingenious uses I got out of her. Slaves aren't a particularly bright bunch, so I had her do some menial tasks around the house. I couldn't very well put her behind my computer and have her do my taxes. No way. However, I did sense some lesbian tendencies in her from the way she looked at me every now and then. So one night I had some fun with her. I ordered Bernadine to get naked and she did. Obediently, the tall Black female slave undressed before me. She had an okay body. Big jugs. Thick body. Wide hips. Big round butt. And of course, extremely dark skin. I tied up Bernadine, and then spread my legs before her face. Tugging on her slave's collar, I ordered her to lick my pussy.

Bernadine obediently licked my pussy. Some women use vaginal deodorant down there but this Irishwoman flaunts her own aroma. Bernadine licked and probed my vagina while I leaned back and relaxed as she worked on me. I always knew my big Black slave woman had hidden talents. While she sucked my clit, I held my whip in hand. When I wanted her to pick up the pace, I gave her fat Black ass a good whack. Bernadine yelped. I grabbed her neck and told her to keep licking otherwise I'd seriously mess up. She said yes mistress and resumed licking me. I smiled. That's a good slave. So obedient. Always eager to do as she was told. That's how they all should be. I relaxed and enjoyed. And in no time, my slave made me cum. I squealed in delight. Now that's what I like.

After all was said and done, I put Bernadine in her slave's shack. It's computer-controlled and the floor is electrified, so she won't escape. And even if she were to escape, the fledgling Abolitionist Movement of New England has no way of getting to her. They've been smuggling slaves out of America and getting them to planes going to Europe where they could finally be free. Anyone caught trying to smuggle a slave to his or her freedom would be shot on sight. That's the decree from the President of Confederate America's Office. And the President is a ruthless woman who means every word in that decree. I went to sleep happy for the first time in ages. I've traveled through time, undone the work of civil rights activists and abolitionists. I single-handedly changed history and restored slavery. Gosh, I wonder what I'm going to do tomorrow!