Master's Plantation

By Bobbi Love

Alabama, 1869. Bethany Lancaster, a beautiful southern belle, must travel through the ruins of her beloved state to pay off the gambling debts of her fiancé —the dashing Dewey Lee.

Only, Bethany is surprised to find her fiancé on a plantation that is owned by a powerful black man named Ebenezer. The men on this black-owned plantation have accused Dewey —once a Lieutenant in the Confederate army— of murder and other heinous crimes. Dewey's fate is all but sealed.

But just when it looks like there's no hope, dark-skinned Ebenezer gives pale, creamy Bethany a final opportunity to save the love of her life. But it won't be easy for the beautiful young woman. In doing so, she will have to turn her back on the privileged world she's always known. And she will have to embrace a life that is part nightmare, and part toe-curling fantasy.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bobbi Love
• Release date: Aug 22, 2018
• ISBN: 9780463616345

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

Master’s Plantation

Interracial, Historical, 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

Alabama, 1869

As a lady of fashion, Bethany Lancaster found it distasteful to be in such a backwards town as this. She longed to be back home at her daddy's exquisite cotton plantation where she could be coddled and pampered by a staff of Negro maids whose only care in the world was to make sure that her silk was clean, her hair was shiny, and her cup was full. Sadly, that world of luxury and Southern hospitality felt a million miles away —even though Bethany had only been gone for three days now. The beautiful young woman was traveling in a horse-drawn buggy that was being driven by an old trusted Negro called Sam. Bethany was fond of this Negro. Old Sam had started off as one of her daddy's slaves, and then stayed on as a worker after the Civil War.

Of course, Bethany didn't like thinking of that god-awful war. The wounds were still too fresh. Not only had the bloody battles taken away both of Bethany's brothers, but they'd also eaten into a sizeable portion of her daddy's fortune —not to mention all the devastation suffered by her beloved state of Alabama.

It was true. Now, with a parasol perched over her lovely blonde curls, Bethany saw to her dismay the ruins of another city that was still recuperating from military defeat.

She closed her brilliant blue eyes, wishing that she could wake up from this terrible nightmare, wishing that she could do something to change the fate of her people. But she was powerless to do so. Although some considered her naive and gullible, Bethany still comprehended that such matters were far beyond her reach. War was the business of men. Not her. For Bethany —God bless her soul— the most physical effort of the day was lifting a glass of lemonade brought to her by a Negro maid. Aggressive action was not one of her strengths.

Instead Bethany was beautiful, but risky to touch, like porcelain. Before the war suitors from all over the state used to come and pay their respects, hoping to garner favor with Bethany and her overly protective father. She played the part well too. Every southern belle was expected to be up-to-date on the latest fashions, which often proved tricky and expensive because fashion was constantly changing throughout the nineteenth century. But Bethany was a true lady who embodied the ideals of the South, and was thus always hospitable, well-groomed, and graceful.

Her sad eyes were still closed.

You okay there, Miss Bethany? asked Old Sam. If ya' like, I can pull over. You ain't got no vapors, does ya?

Bethany opened her eyes and cleared her throat. Looking straight in front of her now, she said, "Yes Sam, I can assure you that I'm quite well. Thank you. You just focus on getting us there in