The Antebellum School Project 4

[underdog_13]

The Antebellum School Project
BY: Hooked6

Chapter 4

I was now permanently marked as a slave right on the upper part of my left butt cheek.

“Who was the bastard that bought me and sent me this so-called gift? Tell me. I have a right to know,” I snapped angrily.

Angie gave me an awkward grin and just waved playfully at me. “It was me, dear step-sister.”

I don’t know if it was the way she was giggling or the overwhelming number emotions that I had all jumbled around in my head, simultaneously making their presence known, but all I could do was laugh. Yes, you read that right, I laughed. It was either that or cry and I certainly didn’t want to do that again in front of all those people. I had just been permanently marked by burning my skin with a red-hot, iron branding disc like I was some sort of cow or something. The indignity of it all is hard to fathom. It was incredibly humiliating – even pissing myself over the pain as my classmates all watched! I couldn’t believe that Susan would have allowed that to happen to me because, ironically, my step-mom would always constantly give jeering looks and make degrading remarks to people walking around town just sporting visible tattoos. What in the world is she going to think of me now that I had been actually branded? For one thing, she’s going to treat me like dirt; that’s what.

My thoughts were interrupted by Mr. Longacre dousing the burning hot coals in his forge with a large bucket of water making a loud searing sound sending an immense, white cloud of smoke soaring up into the air. The noise startled me for a second and then a HUGE feeling of relief swept over me as I realized that he was NOT going to do any more branding on me or for that matter, making any more iron implements of torture for me either. Not today anyway.

I let out a sigh of relief as I heard Mr. Conner speaking rather loudly thanking everyone for coming. My day was done! I noticed people gathering up their things as several people stood in small circles talking among themselves as the bulk of the guests started slowly drifting away here and there in groups of three or four.

It is funny what the mind starts thinking about at times like these. How did all my classmates get here? I was genuinely surprised to see such a huge crowd when I went onto the veranda earlier. I didn’t recall seeing any cars parked in the front yard nor did I hear cars arriving or doors slamming while the drama club was groping me up. I giggled as I wondered if they all arrived by wagon or on horseback. Given all the detailed preparation that had been made for my auction, it wouldn’t have surprised me one bit if they actually had done that somehow.

Then another troubling thought ran through my mind. I had only just made up my mind to help Angie with this project yesterday night! How could Angie have planned and arranged all of this overnight? I mean the logistics and coordinating all of this surely would have taken weeks not just a few hours in the middle of the night. Getting all my classmates organized, getting them fitted for these period costumes alone would have been a nightmare. For Pete’s sake you can’t just call up the County Judge and tell him to drop by the next morning on a Saturday, can you? Don’t they usually play golf or something on the weekends? How does one look up a judge’s personal mobile phone number anyway?

The more I thought about it, the more concerned I grew. Still, Angie was a very methodical person, which is why she was definitely college material. She wasn’t scatter-brained like me putting things off until the last minute. Surely she had been working on the details of this project all semester and only had to make a few calls to put her plan into action. Although . . . it has been my experience that complicated things like this with so many people rarely work out so perfectly like they did today.

I tried to put my doubts and fears to the back of my mind. I had more important things to worry about. After all, I was still totally naked, bent over and securely tied this log frame right out in our front yard. That point was made clearer as a couple of my female classmates came walking over to me with broad toothy smiles. They stopped right in front of me, pointed their phones at my face and began taking pictures of me. One of them even bent down and took a close-up of my pitiful little breasts dangling down towards the ground.

“Boy, Brooke, you really look a sight? I can’t believe you did this. I mean you are all nekkid and everything, right outside in front of us all?” Amber said half giggling.

The other girl, who I wasn’t familiar with added, “Who would have thought? Of all people? Only a real slut would be constantly dripping girl juice down her legs as some guy literally burned her ass off. Who would do that except a skank. That was really something to see though, I can tell you. Oh, and, Brooke, you stink by the way; did you know that?”

“Is she STILL leaking?” Amber asked, incredulously, as she hurried around behind me. “OMG, she really is!” I heard the sound of her camera phone going off and I know she was intent on capturing not only my open labia but my obviously wet thighs and legs as well, which I am sure were clearly seen in the sunlight. I knew I was incredibly aroused as I could feel it.

“She must not mind all this very much. Did you seen her pokey huge nipples all swollen up and red? She is one horny bitch.”

“Will you two go away and leave me alone?” I snapped angrily. “I can’t help what my body does. I hate this. I am just helping my step-sister with her school project. That’s all. Nothing more.”

The girls both laughed heartily at my tirade. “Yeah right . . . school project. Whatever, slut.” I could hear them walking away down the driveway chuckling as they left.

I was fuming at those girls when two more classmates of mine – a boy (okay a really handsome guy at that) and a girl - came up to me. I was about to read them the riot act before they could trash talk me, when the girl stroked my hair and softly said, “Did that hurt much? I felt really bad for you.”

“Yeah, it looked awful.” The cute guy said. “You are probably the most courageous person I know to go through all that just for your sister. I admire you a lot. I am Brian, by the way. I have seen you at school, but I don’t really know you.”

As embarrassing as it was to be bent over, bound naked in front of them having this conversation, their comments made me feel better and made my sacrifice for my step-sister feel worthwhile. At least some people appreciated what I am doing for my family. “Hi, Brian. I’m Honey . . . I mean, I’m . . .”

Just then I heard Angie immediately interrupting me, “That’s right. This is Honey. She is now legally known just as Honey. She is no longer who she was. She is just mere chattel, henceforth and forever more to be known as Honey.”

“Oh, yeah, Mr. Conner told us about that.” He then patted my head gently and said, “Nice to meet you, Honey.”

“Well, we had best be going,” The girl said, then looking at Angie for a minute continued, “I won’t embarrass her by taking some pictures of her naked like she is, but if you have any that you think are appropriate to share, would you mind sending me one?”

She was a class act this girl, I thought. She was concerned enough about my feelings to refrain from taking pictures of me like this. I needed to find out who she was as I’d like to be her friend when this is all over – him too, if I was honest.

Angie just laughed. “You don’t need to worry about embarrassing her. Go ahead and take all the pictures you want. I don’t care. I own this slave now and what she wants is of no importance any more. In fact, this isn’t embarrassing at all compared to what is in store for her later on. Take your pictures. You have my permission.”

What the hell did she mean by “what was in store for me later?”

“Well . . .” the girl said cautiously. “If you really think it is okay . . .” then her demeanor changed radically as she suddenly squealed with excitement and raised her phone towards my face and said to me, “Sorry, but I am just dying to have a picture of you like this. This is so cool!” She then began taking images of me from all sorts of angles – from my side, my backside, my chest. It was like she was a kid at a rock concert taking pictures of her favorite band members up close and personal. Then she did something no other classmate had done as I was tied up – she bent down in front of me and took a selfie!

“WAIT A MINUTE!” I heard Angie shout.

“Oh, was I not supposed to take a selfie? I’m sorry, I’ll delete it right away.”

“Oh no, don’t do that. I just thought you would want one like this.”

Before I could react, Angie shoved my stick gag back into my mouth and tied it off behind my head once again stretching my mouth into that horrible haunted house type grin.

The girl squealed again with delight and said, “AWESOME! Brain, get down here and we will both get into the picture.” Angie, being careful not to get into the frame herself, reached down by my side, grabbed my hair and pulled back, raising my head up so I couldn’t hide my face as the sound of the camera shutter went off several times in succession.

The girl checked several of the images she had taken and remarked excitedly, “Do you see that!? What a face! It is like she is in shock or something?” Her remark caused everyone but me to laugh.

“Oh, that’s just from the taste of the stick gag. It has well over a hundred and sixty-nine years of semen worked into it as that is a real slave bit used to keep female slaves quiet – a few male slaves too I shouldn’t wonder. She ABSOUTELY HATES the taste of it.”

Again, everyone laughed. Why does everyone think that comment is funny? I don’t get it.

The girl stroked my hair several more times, gave me such a genuine smile, and said, “Thank you. You made my day. I suppose it’s no secret what I will be doing to your pictures when I get home.” After an embarrassed little giggle she added, “Oh, sorry. . . I probably shouldn’t have said that. I actually bid on you; ya know. I took out all of my spare savings and brought it with me. I didn’t decide to register until the last minute. It was fun competing with the other bidders. It was all so exciting. I hope they do another one of these in the future. Maybe I’ll have more money saved up if they do. I could have had such a great time with you if you would have been mine.”

With that, they both left. Her comment sent a tingle down my spine and I felt my clitoris wake up again in earnest. Before today, I never would have guessed that another girl could have that effect on me.

*****

Many people walked by, gave me the once over as they smiled at me and went on their way. I suppose not many, if any, of them had ever seen a naked girl bound and gagged right before their eyes, let alone watched a real branding done on a real girl’s butt before. It must have been an amazing experience for them. It was for me I can tell you. It is not something I wanted to ever experience again though. I was just glad this was almost over. My muscles were aching and I was really looking forward to relaxing and maybe getting something good for dinner.

I watched Mr. Longacre pack everything up into his wagon and lead his mule off down the driveway. He waved at me as he started to leave. I wondered if he felt any guilt in knowing he just put unremovable shackles on me and left me permanently scarred for life. It probably was just all in a day’s work for him as he showed no real emotion either way. Still, he did treat me gently and defended me a few times in front of Angie and my step-mom. I guess he was an okay fellow. I just hoped he really knew how to get these shackles off of me when this project was over. I am sure he was just kidding about these being permanent – well, the shackles anyway. I was pretty sure my branding scar wasn’t going away.

Pretty much everyone left and I was alone in the front yard, when I finally realized I was hearing traffic sounds again. Cars were going up and down the road in front of my house again. There didn’t seem to be any cars during the auction. I was sure of that, now that I had a chance to notice the traffic sounds again. Is my sister’s influence so strong she could close off our road for several hours? I guess maybe that was the Sherriff’s doing.

Hearing those sounds as my naked rear end faced the street, I began to get nervous again. It was one thing to have people who were part of this project seeing me like this. It was quite another knowing that absolute strangers might be seeing me like this now.

I tried calling out for Angie but with that gag back in place it just came out like a muffled “Ahhhfffeee . . . Ahhhfffeee!”

Nothing.

I tried a few more times but no one came. If they were trying to teach me patience keeping me tied up like this, their method was really working. I had no choice but to wait and endure it.

*****

I was exhausted, thirsty, and sore when I heard the sounds of shoes walking on the wooden veranda. I looked up and both Susan and Angie came down the steps and headed towards me, “At last” I muttered to myself.

It wasn’t until they came closer that I saw that Angie was carrying something in her hands and Susan had her hands behind her back.

When they reached me, Susan seemed so happy. “You were really wonderful today. I am so very proud of you. Everyone was remarking on how you dealt with everything. Why even Mr. Conner said he clearly thought that after the scholarship committee and the Board of Reagents see Angie’s final presentation, assuming everything else goes well, she was sure to get that full ride scholarship. Her research coupled with this reenactment would practically guarantee at least a book or two also gets published. He said that would be great publicity for the school and the town.”

Great. Just what I need – more publicity of my shame.

Susan then bought out a glass of cold lemonade with a straw from behind her back. “I thought you might could use this. Drink it slowly though.”

“Affffyouoooooo” I said hoping she’d get the hint and take that infernal thing out of my mouth. Mercifully she just laughed and directed Angie to get rid it so I could drink.

“Sorry,” she said. I didn’t realize that you still had that on.

Angie put something in her pocket and did as her mom had asked. She began talking as she worked on getting my gag off. “We were watching the documentary videos taken today and everything was just perfect! Seeing the crowd of people all dressed in period attire, our old house in the background, your facial expressions of fear, embarrassment, pain, and humiliation were all so evident . . . Everything was just so perfect. It couldn’t have been better.”

I took several long swallows of lemonade and, like before, it really helped. I was never a big fan of lemonade but today it was marvelous. “So, are you going to untie me now? Can I get up already?”

Susan said plainly, “Not yet, sweetheart . . . oh, I probably shouldn’t use terms of endearment like that anymore. Sorry. Anyway, you will need to stay in like this with your butt muscles stretched like they were for the branding for a little while longer. It helps the scar set in and it will heal better. If you stand up or change positions too soon, your muscles relax and you will ooze again and we start all over.”

Just then I felt something cool against my wound. “Hold still,” Angie said firmly, “It is time for me to gently dab some more of this Indian Burn Medicine on you. Keeping your wound and the salve in the sun helps prevent Ague, or as we say today, an infection as well as help in pain relief. If we do this right, you will be pretty much healed by this time tomorrow. Well, that’s what I am hoping for anyway.”

“You mean I have to stay this way until tomorrow afternoon??! You’re out of your mind!”

“No silly. Just a while longer. We will get you up as soon as we can. It is in your best interest just to cooperate.”

“Speaking of being out of your minds, What the fuck was that branding all about it? That was just plain cruel. You should have told me!”

“Slaves knew very little about what was going to happen to them when they were first sold. Add to that the language barrier for some of them and I am sure it was a very stressful experience. We didn’t tell you for a couple of reasons: You would have refused . . .”

“YOUR DAMN RIGHT I WOULD HAVE!” I shouted angrily.

“And we would have done it anyway even if we had to have the boys hold you down with the Sherriff’s assistance. It was better this way and we got an absolutely gorgeous branding. Under force, you certainly would have moved and we might have had to do it over – maybe two or even three times. No, our way – the way it was done back in 1845 – is best, and it is historically accurate. Pretty much ALL slaves were marked.”

“I have a few things to say to you both about that. If you think . . .”

“Save it for your diary entry tonight. Make sure and write down all those venomous emotions and vivid thoughts down. That’s what we need anyway.” Angie said as she finished up dabbing my butt.

Susan got right in my face and added, “And if you insist and talking or complaining any more, I will have you gagged again and you can stay that way all night. Got it?”

I nodded my head in agreement afraid to risk their wrath anymore. I finished the last of the lemonade before that was taken away from me and then they left me to pout and believe me, “pouting” wasn’t a strong enough word for what I was mulling over in my mind at that moment. I was FUMING!

*****

I must have fallen asleep for some time as I woke up to near darkness. It was late. I wasn’t sure of the time but it was definitely dark. I could see the lights on in the house. I shook my head a few times trying to get myself fully awake and stretch my neck muscles a bit. After my much-needed nap, I felt better. I was still naked and tied, but sleep helped.

The cooler air felt good and there was a gentle breeze wafting through the air. I liked that a lot. It shouldn’t be long now, I thought.

Just then out of nowhere, someone from behind me shoved a canvas bag over my head basically blinding me and told me to be quiet; that if I alerted anyone in the house there would be hell to pay.

“What’s going on?” I whispered calmly as I was sure it was Angie just messing with me.

Then I heard a voice that I didn’t recognize and my heart began to pound!

“I saw the way you were acting out here all afternoon, you slut, and now you are going to get what is coming to you. You’ll get a lot worse if you don’t cooperate. Got it?”

I started to panic, yanking on my bonds desperately trying to get free but it was of no use. I was held fast and wasn’t going anywhere. I was about to scream for all I was worth when I felt fingers gently rubbing between my legs and I am ashamed to admit it but it felt really good.

“So, you LIKE that huh, bitch?” the strange voice asked in a somewhat teasing manner. It was female voice, somewhat young like maybe someone my age perhaps, but I wasn’t sure. One thing I was sure of, however, was that it wasn’t Angie, or Susan for that matter.

The stranger’s finger movements quickly got me very wet in no time. Soon, I felt the fingers reach up to my clitoris causing me to softly moan as this girl began moving faster and with more intensity. Who was this girl?

“ANSWER ME, bitch? I asked you a question and I expect an answer.” The girl whispered rather demandingly this time. “Do. You. Like. This?”

Ah . . .” my voice replied quivering. I wasn’t sure I wanted to answer. I was being assaulted in my own yard by a stranger and there wasn’t anything I could do about it – yet, it felt ever so good and I was unsure I really wanted it to stop. I had been ever so horny and aroused all damn day and it did feel pretty nice. I needed to do something – scream for help or let her do whatever she was going to do, so I finally reluctantly answered, “Yeeeessss, I . . . like . . . it.”

“I knew you would, you sleezy whore.” The voice sounded familiar but since she was whispering in a teasing manner like she was, I wasn’t quite sure. Was it one of the pair of cruel girls who talked down to me while I was tied to this log frame earlier? It might be one of them I suppose. Amber maybe? It was just like one of them to have sneaked back into my yard after everyone was gone to torture me. Was it that friendly girl who took the selfies? Naw, that girl was too timid always making sure if it was okay before she did anything. She was too nice to do something like this.

The wet fingers left my clit and began making circles around my labia which sent shivers up my spine. I was getting close – VERY close. Who is this idiot? Why am I letting this stranger do this to me? I’m not really that kind of person. I’m really not. I need to stop this right now. I need to stand up for myself.

Before I could do what I had intended to do, she moved her hand up back to my engorged and ever so sensitive clit again and started tapping on it and I started to lose it – it felt that good.

Wait! Something clicked in my addled brain. The tapping on my clit . . . I know who this is! It was the biggest bully and the most popular girl in my school. “SARAH ANN!” I called out to get her to stop but it was too late. I came and came hard. If I wasn’t already tied so securely, I would have collapsed on the ground in wild convulsions. I was so lost in pleasure that I barely heard her wild giggling.

When I finally regained my composure, she pulled her hand out between my wide spread legs, wiped her dripping fingers and hand on my back and laughed all the more. “Damn, you are one randy bitch, you know that?” She then walked around to my face, obviously not worried about being recognized as I had already called out her name, and planted a big, open-mouthed kiss on my lips which naturally involved tongue. I was too weak to resist and just let it happen.

When she pulled away, she just laughed; patted my head like I was a puppy dog and disappeared into the darkness.

I was so ashamed. Once again, she got the best of me. Of all people bringing me to such an intense orgasm. I really hated her.

*****

A little while later Angie came out and untied me from the pole-frame. I was so stiff I could hardly move. Angie surprised me massaging my arms as she apologized for the length of time that I had to stay immobilized but she assured me that enduring this now was for the best as I would heal faster with less pain. When she started massaging my legs as I stood there, she began laughing out loud. She must have felt my vaginal leakage on my upper thighs. “Good grief, girl, doesn’t that thing ever dry out?” she asked mockingly. I ignored her comment.

Mercifully she had no idea of the intense orgasm I had just experienced. She didn’t push things anymore and when she finished, we walked back to the house.

Susan met us when we entered, “Your dad called while you were outside and I told him how very pleased I was with your performance today. He wanted me to tell you that he was very proud of you but he also knew you had a long way to go and he wants you to give it your all for the next few weeks. He said he knew it would be hard so just do it for him if nothing else and not let him down; that he was counting on you.”

I was so happy at hearing what Susan had said and I was actually also pleased that she had given me what apparently was a glowing report to dad. Knowing that he was proud of me made it all worthwhile.

“Did dad say when he will be coming back to Georgia?”

“Probably by Friday or Saturday at the latest. He has a lot of work to take care of.”

Well that just sucked, I said to myself. “I’m hungry. Is there anything to eat?”

“Angie led me to the kitchen and much to my astonishment, there was a bowl on the floor full of left-over food from their dinner apparently. It smelled good so I got down on my knees and starting eating as I was really starving.

I was shocked and embarrassed when Angie said, “You don’t have to eat like a dog, you dope. You just can’t use the furniture. Slaves are prohibited from acting like one of the family. You can eat standing up unless you are ordered to do something else. Which reminds me, I would prefer it if you didn’t sit on your wound just yet though. Come to think of it, for tonight it might be best just to stay on your hands and knees while you eat. You are kind of cute eating like a mangy dog.” She chuckled at her own comment and Susan just smiled.

“Yes, Angie.” I replied.

“You had best start using ‘yes, ma’am’ and ‘yes, sir.’ Slaves never used proper names unless someone asked a question that needed your owner’s identification or when it was necessary. Then I am ‘Miss Angie’ and Susan would be, ‘Mistress Susan.’ We will cover all that and much more tomorrow.

Susan came into the room with a large wooden cup and handed it to me. When I looked at it, I saw the name Slave Honey on it. “This is your cup,” she explained. “You may only drink out of this cup and that bowl also has your name on it as well as that is what you will eat out of from now on. When you are done using them, it will be your job to wash them out and place them in your room off the kitchen.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Later as I was finishing up cleaning my cup and bowl and was putting it away in my room, Angie walked in and instructed me to lay down on my bed, such as it was, on my stomach. She then proceeded to dab more salve on my wound which, despite all the time that had passed since my last application, hardly hurt anymore. I was pleased at that. She told me that she would be waking me up a couple of times during the night to re-apply the salve.

After she was through, she handed me my journal and my pen and instructed me to write a detailed account of what happened to me that day, in my own words; not writing what I thought she wanted me to say. She wanted my real thoughts and real feelings. Don’t hold anything back she said.

“When you are through, you will need to sleep on your stomach like you are now or on your right side making sure to keep your weight off your branding site. I will know if you don’t, as you will then be really sore as heck by morning, and I mean REALLY sore, so you best do as I say. You have an early start tomorrow so don’t stay up too late.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Dear Diary: I started writing. This is going to take some time, I thought.

Chapter 5 More training and a surprise.

As always, comments very much appreciated as it inspires my work.
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[PontyBoy]

Really enjoying this story

[CommodorRaptr]

So glad you're continuing this. The plot is interesting and quite unique. Thank you for posting.

[Belinda]

Such a lovely story dear. So well done. It touches my submissive heart.