John Hollingsbrook patted his panting horse as he pulled on the reins to stop the animal. High on a hilltop, he gazed down at the cotton fields below. The Hollingsbrook plantation stretched for twenty acres in either direction from where John Hollingsbrook, its current owner, sat on his horse. John, still a young man at thirty-five had inherited the plantation from his father who in turn had inherited it from his father. The plantation had been in his family for generations. John loved the rich North Carolina soil that bore his fortune season after season. There seemed to be an endless need for the cotton which would be spun into yarn and then knit or woven into fabrics.
John was proud of his homestead and the lifestyle it afforded him. His brow furrowed when he thought of the talk going around his men's club. Recently there were lively debates about the imminent end of slavery and President Lincoln's desire to free the slaves. There was even talk of a war between the states to decide the matter. John worried about what would happen to the land if slavery were abolished. Unlike many of his plantation owning peers, John did have doubts about the morality of owning other human beings. He was known in the area for running one of the fairest plantations.
Many of his peers were cruel to their slaves. Stories abounded about plantation owners who beat their slaves, overworked and starved them, and even took advantage of the female slaves. In contrast John was a very fair owner and he ran a tight ship. He would not allow any of the overseers on his plantation to be abusive in any way. John's only peccadillo was that he slept with the young slave girls as they were blossoming into women. John had a penchant for young girls on the verge of womanhood. He had deflowered several of the slave women who now tended his land. It was only for one night; he never approached any of them again. It was an unspoken understanding among the slaves that he would initiate the young women into sex. John was selective and it was a special recognition for the girls whom were chosen.
John Hollingsbrook was happily married to the former Estelle Wentworth Adams. John loved his wife dearly, but Estelle had lost all interest in carnal pleasures after bearing her husband ten children of which six had survived infancy. She and her husband no longer shared a marital bed. In fact her husband's quarters were at the opposite end of their huge mansion. Estelle focused her energies on raising their children and teaching them the virtues of Christianity.
Out of the corner of his eye, John saw her dart out of the side of the house where the kitchen was located. He turned the horse so he could watch her. He remembered when Lydia first came to the Hollingsbrook plantation. Timothy Sidwell, her former owner, had sold her to John's father when Lydia was a baby. Being of a creamy caramel complexion, there was talk that Lydia was the product of Sidwell and Lydia's mother and that she was sold to keep Mrs. Sidwell from learning about the liaison. John remembered how Betty, one of the older matronly slaves looked after Lydia and raised her as if she were her own daughter.
Lydia was eighteen now and she had matured into a beautiful young woman. She had long thick wavy black her and dark brown eyes. Her breasts were full and they contrasted with her small waist. John could tell by the way she ran to the well that her legs were strong and muscular. Lydia had never worked in the fields. She worked in the kitchen in the main house with the other cooks. He could hear her laughing and talking with her friends as she carried the heavy water jug back into the kitchen to finish preparing the evening meal.
John felt a stirring that he had not felt in a long time. He signaled his horse to head home to the stables. Eager to rest for the day, the horse galloped down the hill and into the nearby barn. John dismounted and handed the reins to the stable boy. He walked the short distance to the main house and went into his study. His hand shook slightly as he poured himself a drink. Peter, his elderly manservant, knocked on the heavy study door.
"Will you be needing anything Master John? " asked Peter as he slowly stepped into the room. Peter had tended John's father too.
"Draw a bath for me before dinner and have Lydia brought to me tonight," stated John Hollingsbrook in the calmest voice he could manage. Peter gave him a knowing look.
"Of course sir, as you wish," said Peter as he backed out of the room shaking his head.
After dinner, John sat in his bedroom suite and watched the shadows from the fire dance on the walls of his room. It was furnished simply with two overstuffed armchairs facing each other. The mahogany four poster bed was a few feet away. The floor was made of wide, dark oak planks. The spicy smell of his pipe wafted in the air.
Earlier he had dined with his family but he had little appetite. He picked at his food and he was happy when Estelle announced that she was retiring early. After dinner, John had gone up to his room and had a few drinks to relax. He was excited by the thought of the time that he would soon spend with Lydia, but he was apprehensive too. He didn't want to scare Lydia and he didn't want to hurt her. John assumed that she must have heard stories from the other girls that he had been with. He hoped that Betty had told her what to expect. His thoughts were broken by a knock on the door and the sound of footsteps scuttling away.
"Of course someone would have brought her to my door since she has never been in this part of the house before," thought John to himself. "Come in," he said.
Slowly Lydia turned the door handle and entered the room. There was a knot in her stomach and she was afraid she might faint. The smell of lavender made her queasy. That afternoon, after Peter had told Betty that she was to be Master John's that evening, the old women had scrubbed her until her skin felt raw. Then they made her rub lavender oil all over her body to smooth her skin. Betty had washed her hair and explained that she was going to become a woman this evening with Master Hollingsbrook. Betty told her that she should try to relax and recite bible passages in her head while Master Hollingsbrook had his way with her. Lydia thought her knees might buckle under her as she stood before her owner.
Her eyes struggled to adjust in the darkness. She saw him sitting in an armchair by the fire which cast the only light in the room. Of course she had known who Master Hollingsbrook was since she was a little girl. He seemed kind and everyone on the plantation seemed to think that as slave owners go, he was one of he fairest. He was a big man. She could see his thigh muscles straining against his pants. She kept her eyes downcast and avoided his face.
"Come here Lydia and let me look at you," said John as he watched her slowly come towards him. She had obviously been prepared for the occasion. Her long hair hung freely about her pretty face. She was wearing a white cotton nightgown and he could see her full breasts outlined against the thin fabric. Her breasts were large, but being young they stood out from her body. John looked down and saw that she was not wearing any undergarments since he could see her triangle patch of hair through her gown. She seemed to be trembling. He motioned her over to him and he handed her a cup with a dark brown liquid.
