Plantation Nights

By Bobbi Love

SYNOPSIS
It's 1867 and Lacey Andrews doesn't recognize the world these days. Her beloved South has been crushed in that ungodly war and all around her are signs of death and decay. Many of her friends and family are dead, her plantation has been sold, and Lacey is now forced to make a living as a seamstress for wealthy Northern ladies. Even her husband —a once proud and confident officer in the Confederate army— has turned to hard liquor for relief. Though Lacey is still surviving, it's a far cry from the dazzle and pomp of her carefree youth.

Then one day Lacey finds herself returning to the plantation she was raised on. Soon her nervousness gives way to a sense of shock when she sees how much things have changed. The new owner of the plantation is one of her most favorite and trusted ex-slaves: a powerfully built man named Samson who is of about 50 years.

At first Lacey thinks that Samson has come to save her. Especially after her many years of kindness to him. But very quickly she realizes that Samson has different plans for the beautiful Southern belle.

Samson still wants to deliver her from her daily toil. Samson still wants to give her a better life. Samson still wants to protect her —and provide for any children she might have in the future. But only if Lacey Andrews is willing to submit to the ex-slave's wishes on a plantation in which the white people now find themselves serving the whims and desires of their black masters.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bobbi Love
• Release date: Apr 10, 2018
• ISBN: 9781370577729

Bobbi Love

Hi, I'm Bobbi Love. Obviously, this is not my real name. This is only my fake name. Hm, what else? Well, I'm from Texas. I was born in 1985. I've always had a very dirty imagination, I suppose. I wrote my first "novel" when I was eleven years-old. (It was about a group of mermaids who started an all-girl band, ha ha.) But after that I sort of stopped writing. Then I went to an all-girl college in Texas. Now I'm married to one of the best guys in the world. Unfortunately, he has no idea what a dirty, depraved, messed-up woman he has on his hands. Ha ha. Well, I hope you guys enjoy my stories. Please feel free to leave comments, or suggestions, or reviews or whatever. KK, thx!

Book preview

Plantation Nights

Interracial/Cuckold Erotica

Copyright 2018 Bobbi Love

Published by Bobbi Love at Smashwords

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Table of Contents

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Other books by this author

Part One

Georgia, 1867

Anxiously, Lacey Andrews clutched at the hem of her dress.

At first glance it was a beautiful article of clothing, obviously from France, with a ruffled bodice and wide hoop skirt. It was the sort of dress that Southern belles wore when they had been brought up by parents who had seen to their every wish, house slaves that hurried to their impulsive commands, and young men who'd fawned over them, admiring them for their young beauty and charm. However, there was one major difference. The dress barely reached past Lacey's round milky cheeks.

Caroline Bradshaw, whose own dress was made of a blue satin, but equal in shortness of length, kept shaking the perfection of her silky blonde hair. Don't worry, sugar, you look great.

Absolutely not! This is too ridiculous, said Lacey. Wiping away the first few hot tears that were stinging her eyes, Lacey had never felt more exposed and vulnerable. The dress had a way of making its wearer feel more naked after putting it on. At first she had assumed that Caroline was joking. The only reason she even slipped on the dress in the first place was because it hadn't occurred to her that Caroline seriously wanted her to wear such a garment. I don't care how much my life has changed, I can't be seen in something like this. Positively not!

But this is what our Master demands. We have to wear it for him.

Your master, not mine, Lacey was quick to correct.

Caroline smiled a slow, seductive smile. We'll see about that.

Ignoring the comment, Lacey defiantly stabbed her small pale fists into her waist and eschewed her soft, sugary voice for something a little more feisty: Do you have any idea how long my family has been in Georgia? How long our name has been synonymous with class and dignity?

And do you think you're the only one? asked Caroline, fixing Lacey with her icy blue stare. It's a different world. I keep telling you that. The best thing is to just accept our new roles.

A long silence ensued while both women contemplated the catastrophic forces which had usurped their Southern belle paradises.

Part Two

Earlier that day, Lacey Andrews had been thinking of more pressing matters. She wasn't thinking about her fallen South. She was thinking of her clients. Money.

Do you think we have enough time for all of the deliveries? she asked her husband.

Under another scorching Savannah sun, their one-horse buggy was clattering over a long well-worn stretch of road just outside city limits.

I reckon, said John. In one of his hands he held the reigns, in another he held a bottle of whisky. They gonna pay us today, right? Cash?

I hope so, said Lacey. They better.

Good girl, said John, taking a long pull of whisky.

Lacey couldn't believe what she'd become.

Physically, she still resembled the woman she used to be. Even on her worst days, Lacey was still an attractive woman, albeit in her porcelain way. She had dark hair and round cheeks, and a very tiny waist. But her clothes were a far cry from the bustle and colors of Southern finery Lacey had once been accustomed to. Today she wore a simple cranberry-colored top with narrow straps and scooped neckline with a short broad skirt that revealed her smart little ankles. She had an innocent face.

But the depressing truth was that after the war Lacey