Tracey considered herself American now, after all she had lived here for three years and was married to a fine American man.
She was of course born an English girl, a slightly struggling English girl it had to be said, and like so many girls struggling to make a living by herself she had decided to try her luck in the exciting land of America.
In truth her early life in the new land had been hard work as well and she had even endured a short spell working in a saloon ,which was not much more than a whore house, as a saloon girl. Something her mother would of died on the spot for if she knew what her daughter was doing. It was not Tracey's preferred type of work but in reality it paid the bills and gave her a little extra in her purse every week so she gritted her teeth and did her best to make the saloon owner happy with her work.
Most of the men she also had to keep happy were pleased with her and why shouldn't they be, she was a very pretty blonde blessed with generous sized breasts and of course her English accent used to drive them wild with lust. Unfortunately most of them were drunk and smelly and not the type of man she would normally spend any time with, even a saloon girl had standards.
Every now and again though a man of finer stature would seek her company, one such man being a wealthy banker by the name of John Chambers. He was not really to her taste, he had a cruel streak in his manners and his face but she was hardly in a position to reject his advances and he soon became a regular visitor to her room in the saloon.
He did have one redeeming factor, he was wealthy and did not mind spending some of his wealth on Tracey and she soon had a fine selection of the fanciest dresses and shoes, something which made the other girls jealous but she was hardly friendly with them anyway, common saloon girls were beneath her she thought to herself, forgetting the fact that she herself was a saloon girl.
Mr Chambers frequent visits soon paid off in other ways, despite the fact that he was twenty years her senior and her current occupation he proposed to her one fine April morning and they were married in the June.
Perversely he insisted that she carry on working in the saloon right up until the day before the wedding but once the ring was on her finger she moved herself into his fine mansion and waved goodbye to the saloon forever.
She would like to say that the next two years were blissful but they were not. Yes she was living a life of luxury compared to previously but it soon became clear that her husband was an oafish boar who didn't love her at all, instead he wanted his own personal whore on hand for his perverted lusts without having to leave the house.
Married life very soon became very strained and apart from in the bedroom, where she had no choice, she kept her distance from her husband as much as possible, something he was happy with as well.
He carried on working at the bank of course, something which would often make his temper most foul and Tracey had felt the full force of his riding crop on numerous occasions while he worked out his frustrations on her.
She hated his physical assaults and she knew the servants were well aware of them which caused her great embarrassment but she felt that she had no option but to put up with the situation. Divorce was unthinkable, she was sure it would leave her penniless and forced to rent her body out again, no better than what she was doing now!
It wasn't only Tracey living in turbulent times, she had read in the newspapers that trouble was brewing from the south of the country. Something to do with slavery, which was rife in the south and less common in the North.
Tracey lived in a wealthy suburb of New York and the south and its troubles seemed so far away however that she did not waste much time on the matter, she had her own troubles to worry about!
And then completely unexpectedly and much to her delight she received a hand written letter from her cousin Emily. She had not seen the girl for a few years, they were roughly the same age but Emily had made the journey to America a year earlier than Tracey had.
Apparently Emily had done well for herself and married a wealthy plantation owner in Mississippi who from what Emily described was considerably better off then her own husband. The letter had finished with an invitation for Tracey to visit at any time, an idea that seemed very attractive to Tracey at that time.
Of course raising the subject with her husband was problematic, he liked to keep her in the house and was rarely allowed out, she did however slowly but surely work on him and within two weeks she had his permission to visit Emily for an indeterminate length of time.
In truth Tracey has never really liked Emily, she was an opinionated and headstrong girl jealous of Tracey's good looks but an excuse to get away from her overbearing husband was not to be overlooked and anyway the trip would be exciting, her life at the moment was so boring!
Excited beyond belief Tracey had caught the train for Mississippi one fine morning waving goodbye to Martha on the platform. Martha was one of their servants who had driven the trap to the station, her beloved husband couldn't even be bothered to see her off.
Martha was a comely woman who Tracey suspected had shared her husbands bed on many an occasion before she had arrived, probably in the vain hope that he would chose her for his wife. Of course Tracey had come along and ruined that little idea, something for which Martha seemed to hold a grudge against Tracey ever since.
Martha knew of Tracey's past as a saloon girl, something Tracey would rather she didn't know , especially she did did hold the grudge but it was too late for that now. The girl had warned her of travelling to the deep south alone but Tracey had dismissed her warnings as scaremongering, after all she know about slavery but she was a free white woman, not a Negro like Martha, what could possibly happen to her. And besides she admitted to a certain curiosity about slavery.
Yes they had servants in their own household but from what she understood slavery was different, you actually owned the slaves and could do whatever you wanted to them. They were little more than animals and frequently worth less. Indeed Tracey had read an article in a newspaper recently where an account of a white woman being sold as a slave was discussed.
Apparently such woman were called fancy girls and were quite a common sight in the south. The idea that a white girl such as herself could be bought and sold as a common slave seemed preposterous to her but it seemed that it was a common enough occurrence.
The story she read about concerned a young widow who was trying to earn a living from the small farm her late husband her left her. Unbeknown to her the farm was mortgaged to the hilt and when she failed to make a payment the bank foreclosed on the loan and took the farm back. In the banks eyes they not only owned the land but anything on the land and this included the farmers wife. She was put up for sale at the next market and sold to the highest bidder who took her off somewhere never to be seen again.
There was much more detail in the article and the very idea shocked her but she had to admit it also excited her and the danger, however small, only added to the thrill of the journey.
Martha had given her a letter of introduction when she'd said goodbye which was normal for a young lady travelling alone. Something she could show to anyone who asked to prove who she was and that she was of good standing etc.
She wasn't supposed to read it but the train journey was a long one and she was quickly bored and so she couldn't resist. The letter started as she'd expected it too, telling any potential reader that she was an honest and polite English girl married to an important banker and she was to be treated with every respect and courtesy. So far the letter did what it was supposed too, explaining that she was a lady to be respected but it soon took a dark step.
The letter went on to say that her husband had met her while she was working as a whore in a saloon servicing men of all creeds and colours!
Although this was true it certainly was not the kind of thing you mentioned in polite society. All creeds and colour was also true but up in the north where she lived it did not carry the stigma that it so readily did down south.
The letter went on in even more damning terms and said that should anything happen to her husband she would no doubt revert to being a whore and selling herself to any man regardless of his colour providing he had a penny in his pocket because that was what she was, a natural slut.
Tracey was shocked, this was not a letter of introduction this was a letter which destroyed her character, thank God she had read it before showing it to anyone!
Placing it carefully back in her bag she vowed to destroy it at the first opportunity and in the meantime she was certainly not going to be showing it to anyone! She knew that the south was puritanical compared to the North and showing the letter around would cause her untold damage, and even worse was the statement that she had serviced coloured, probably a hanging offence in the south!
No, even though people would expect her to have such a letter it was to stay hidden.
Tracey soon found herself engaged in pleasant conversation with a young man, slightly younger than herself and it amused Tracey that he was having a hard time moving his eyes from her prominently displayed cleavage. It appeared that northern woman wore there neck lines a lot lower than their southern sisters.
It was a pleasant enough conversation however and helped ease the boredom of the trip, he asked her where she was going etc. and when he heard and saw that she was alone he offered his advice,
“Be careful down there Miss, from what I understand it is a dangerous place for a young woman such as yourself to be to be on her own, slave traders abound.”
Instantly feel her curiosity roused she giggled slightly,
“But Sir, I am a white woman, surely I would be safe?”
“The demand for fancy girls is high and white women are sold into slavery every day ma'am.”
“But I am a refined young lady.” she uttered sounding shocked.
“Refined young ladies are highly sort after, believe me you will be highly prized, slavery for women such as yourself is common place and thought of as a trivial matter. You will attract a lot of attention from the traders as soon as you step off the train.”
Although she was sure he was telling the truth, the idea of being approached by a slave trader eager to procure her was maddeningly exciting and she blushed furiously. A fact that was noticed by the young man.
“Of course I have heard that some white woman desire to be slaves, owned and treated as mere property, if you like I could point the slave traders in your direction to make sure they do not miss the opportunity to acquire you?” he smiled knowingly.
“No that will not be necessary,” she said quickly, “I am sure they keep a well practised eye open for single girls like myself alighting from trains.”
“They certainly do Miss, girls like you are two a penny I am sure you will be sleeping in a slave pen tonight awaiting sale in the morning, in fact I guarantee it.” he chuckled.
With a final long look at her now heaving bosom he left her carriage leaving her alone with her own excited thoughts.
Why did the thought of slavery excite her so much? Maybe because they didn't have any form of it where she came from and certainly not for white women!
All she knew was that her hands were clasped very tightly in her lap!
The train seemed to take an interminably long time to reach New Orleans and as it got closer and closer to the great City the temperature seemed to rise high and higher. Tracey was glad she'd worn such a low cut dress and had even surreptitiously undid another stay around her back so that the dress hung even lower, dangerously low! But the heat warranted the risk.
Finally the train pulled into the station and she was overwhelmed with the hustle and bustle of the concourse. As mentioned she had barely left the confines of her house recently and the swarming mass of people suddenly surrounding her almost took her breath away.
She did manage to procure a station porter to move her luggage. For the first night in the City she was staying alone in the station hotel and Emily would arrive in the morning and take her to her plantation.
As she gamely followed the porter through the crowds she was aware that she was drawing a lot of attention from the people they pushed through, especially as her dress was threatening to spill its contents out into full view at every step!
She was also aware that several of the people looking at her were shady looking men who did not seem to be very pleasant and Tracey wondered if these were the aforementioned slave traders! Maybe the presence of the porter made them back off though and in any case none approached her.
The hotel foyer seemed pleasant enough and the young lady at reception handled her registration with suitable speed and she was soon ensconced in her room which overlooked the concourse from which she had just arrived.
Unpacking she placed the hateful letter of introduction in a bedside drawer before taking her dresses etc. out of the packing cases and carefully hanging them up. She had no idea if she had brought suitable attire but it would have to do, it was all she had!
Once satisfied that everything was in its rightful place she called down for some tea and relaxed into a small chair looking out of the window high above the still bustling platform.
Once her tea was delivered she contented herself with watching all the people below her. Another train arrived, she knew not where from and spewed forward its cargo of passengers onto the already busy platform. She watched as single men darted off importantly and families called out for cabs to take them to their destination. Several single women had alighted along the length of the train and she noticed that almost without fail they were quickly approached by the same shady men that she had noticed before.
They seemed to be offering the ladies their assistance and each lady was happy to follow them off the platform and out of Tracey's sight. She could only wonder if each lady received the assistance she required or if the men had some other purpose in mind for them!
Eventually tiredness overcame her and without pulling the shades,she was high enough up she reasoned, she lay on the large bed and let sleep take it's hold.
She reckoned it was approximately five pm when she'd laid down and she awoke with a start at just gone midnight. An arriving train had blown its steam whistle and the noise had woken her. Groggily she had gotten off the bed and looked out of the window. The platform below was much less crowded at the time of night, indeed the only people on it appeared to be the shady men and the alighting passengers.
The men were much more aggressively approaching any lone female passenger this time, obviously emboldened by the time of day. As Tracey watched several women were being led off the platform by the men holding them by the arms looking much more sinister, their purpose much more clear now.
Tracey did think of going down there to see if she could help the poor women in any way but she decided against it, what help could she give and anyway if she went down there she was likely to end up a target for the men herself! So she stayed by the window watching as almost every woman by herself was led forcibly away no doubt to tart a new life they had not expected when coming to New Orleans.
Or perhaps some had expected it? After all hadn't the young man on the train said as much, perhaps that was why they had picked a train that arrived at this late hour of the say, because they knew they were almost certain to be approached.
Tracey had no idea but she had gone back to bed with a familiar wetness between her legs at seeing first hand the women being taken away to become slaves, fancy girls.
The next morning she arose early and although she had only just unpacked her clothes she packed them neatly again. She even retrieded the letter from the drawer and unsure what to do with it she put in in her handbag for safe keeping, she didn not want to take it to Emily's but she also did not want to leave it in the hotel where it could be found and read.
She had to eat breakfast downstairs and although she wore a slightly more conservative dress she was still aware that several of the male guests and even some of the hotel employees were eyeing her suspiciously and also lustfully and she was glad to be able to retire back to her room once she had eaten.
Emily was not due till noon and so she had several boring hours before there was a knock on the door and Emily entered, as well as a large black man which took Tracey by surprise.
The two girls hugged and kissed and Emily chided Tracey on how low cut her dress was and Tracey wondered what she would of said if she had seen yesterdays attire!
The black man was obviously a slave and he stood immobile as the two girls chattered excitedly catching up until it was time for him to take Tracey's luggage down to the buggy.
“My goodness girl how long are you staying for.” Emily laughed on seeing the amount of luggage Tracey had and Tracey noticed that her cousins English accent had been replaced by a distinct southern drawl.
The two girls talked incessantly during the long drive to the plantation, about their respective lives, husbands, wealth and anything else that took their fancy. As per usual the heat was overpowering although Emily seemed to cope better with it than Tracey, she was used to it she guessed.
When the plantation house finally came into view Tracey's breath was almost taken away, the place was huge, huge and gleaming white with long verandahs running the length of each floor and there was three floors.
Inside was as massive and luxurious as the outside with big cool rooms, billowing lace curtains and cool wooden floors. Tracey was sure she would never find her way around the house, however long she stayed.
Emily showed her to her room which was light and airy and to her surprise, seemingly waiting for them, a pretty black girl stood to attention.
“This is Tilly, she is your maid and will look after you during your stay.” said Emily placing no importance to it.
Tracey was used to servants back home but she had never had her own personal maid.
“Now I think a bath is in order, I bet you never had one at the dreadful hotel and after that long train journey yesterday I bet one is overdue.”
Tracey did not argue with her, one was overdue!
“Tilly fetch some hot water for a bath for Miss Tracey.” Emily snapped and Tilly scuttled off.
Tracey hadn't even noticed the large bath standing in the corner of the room and she did admit the though was appealing.
“Now let's get these clothes off you shall we.” Emily said and approached Tracey hands raised and Tracey instinctively stepped backwards.
“What's the matter girl, you can#t have a bath fully clothed, and besides it's only us ladies here, now don't be a silly girl.”she said rather sternly.
This time as Emily started undoing the back of her dress Tracey stood still letting her without interference and soon she was down to just her slip. Tilly had entered and re entered the room several times with large jugs of water filling the bath and had hardly paid her any heed but even so Tracey was still embarrassed and it got even worse when Emily started tugging her slip off her and she was quickly standing before them stark naked!
Even though their was only the three girls in the room Tracey was still horribly self conscious, she had not stood naked in front of others for some time. She knew she had a body to be proud of but she was not used to showing it off.
“Oh look at you, you always were the beauty of the family.” Emily uttered and Tracey noted the familiar twang of jealousy in her voice.
All she could do was stand there feeling ashamed and miserable while Tilly finished filling the bath to her satisfaction.
To make matters worse Emily suddenly reached forward and took hold of Tracey’s right breast and squeezed it firmly as if she were kneading bread.
“I always envied these when I was young, so much better than mine.” she giggled continuing to squeeze.
Tracey was shocked at her forwardness and didn’t know what to do or say so as a result she did nothing and just stood there while he cousin continued to feel her.
“Don't you think these are lovely Tilly? Emily casually asked the girl who smiled and nodded her agreement which made Tracey blush, it was one thing to have your naked body appraised by your cousin but another to seek the approval of a mere slave.
She was relieved when Tilly indicated that the bath was ready and Emily let go of her save to help her into the warm bath where she quickly sat down and let the water give her some modesty back.
She had to admit that sitting in the bath was bliss and this time it was Tilly's turn to run her hands over her as she washed her. Again Tracey was embarrassed but she assumed that Tilly was quite happy to wash her mistress as part of her duties and soon her hands were roaming all over her body while Emily stood nearby continuing to chat.
Tilly was washing her breasts and Tracey had to admit that her nipples were standing up proudly when she saw Emily casually open her small bag as if to unpack it and she withdrew her hand holding the hateful letter!
“Oh is this your letter of introduction, I will put this somewhere safe for now but don't worry I'm sure it will be read by lots of folks once we start socialising.”
Tracey was shocked but didn't know what to do, she was sitting naked in a bath being attended to by a black girl, any attempt to take the letter from Emily now would be treated with suspicion so instead she sat still and let Emily take the letter.
At this stage Tilly’s wet and soapy hands were gently washing her breasts which was having an undeniable affect on her and as she watched Emily push the letter down her cleavage for safe keeping a wave of naughty excitement overtook her.
Eventually the bath was finished and she stepped out and was wrapped up in a big fluffy towel by Tilly who proceeded to vigorously rub her down.
Once dry the towel was taken away and once again she found herself standing naked in the room in front of the other two while Emily fussed around looking for something for her to wear.
Tracey had to admit that it wasn't only the cool air in the room that was hardening her nipples which was all too obviously fully erect.
Her submissiveness was tested to the limit though when without warning a man entered the room! From Emily's reaction and manner it was obviously her husband and he said,
“Oh there you are.” before he noticed the completely naked Tracey standing beside his wife. It was hard to say who was the more shocked, Tracey or the man. Her natural reaction would be to squeal in embarrassment and run and try and cover herself from his gaze. Instead she stood her ground and looked firmly at the floor as she knew he was looking at her fully exposed body.
“Well this is a pleasant surprise indeed, I was thinking it was time we got a new fancy girl and this is a fine one indeed.” he smiled lustfully.
“Yes she is a beauty isn't she.” Emily giggled making no attempt to correct his misunderstanding of the situation.
“She certainly is, it's been a long time since I have seen a piece of white meat as fine as her, you have done well my dear.” he smiled again.
Emily seemed to beam with pleasure at the praise and Tracey wondered how much longer the misapprehension could last. She certainly wasn't the new fancy girl but how else could see explain standing there naked without causing even more embarrassment and humiliation than she was already in.
“It seems a shame to put clothes on her, if I had my way she would be forever naked,” he laughed, “but I suppose we must have decency so clothe her and then if you would visit me in my study there is something I wish to discuss with you Emily.” He nodded and then with a final look at the naked Tracey he turned and left.
“Oh dear that is a problem, now he thinks your a fancy girl I can't introduce you as my cousin or have you eat with us for example.” Emily sighed as Tracey quickly pulled on a slip offered to her by Tilly.
“Oh well, he leaves on business that day after tomorrow so not great harm done, you will have to live with the other fancy girls until then.” she said gaily.
As Tracey continued to dress she wondered what living with the other fancy girls would entail. Now that she wasn't naked any more couldn't they just explain the silly mix up to him?
On hearing the suggestion though Emily bristled with indignation,
“Oh no, you quite happily stood in front of him buck naked and let him look at you, no decent woman would do such a thing, only harlots and fancy girls would be so shameless, I can't have such a woman associated with me, no you will remain a fancy girl until he leaves and then maybe we will restore you to your rightful place, maybe.” she snapped somewhat sternly.
“What do you mean maybe?” Tracey uttered meaning to sound as stern as Emily but instead it came out rather meekly.
“Well whatever possessed you to display yourself so wantonly Tracey, maybe you are a harlot after all ?” she sniffed and Tracey had no real answer to her.
“Oh well you can't stay here in the main house now, you will have to live with the other fancy girls until we sort this mess out.” Emily huffed.
Reluctantly Tracey followed Emily and Tilly out of the bedroom and out of the house to a wooden hut set one hundred yards from the main house and all three entered. The hut was empty and consisted of one large room with beds arranged around the walls, a stove and a table and chairs. In reality it was not a hovel, rather homely, but even so Tracey would rather of been staying in the main house where she was before.
“Once the other girls arrive make yourself known to them and I may see you the day after tomorrow.” Emily said and turned to leave.
Tracey was slightly panicked now, she did not want to be left alone to mix with strangers who may not like her but instead of saying anything she simply nodded.
“Shouldn't she be branded as a fancy girl?”Tilly suddenly asked, making Tracey hate the girl.
Emily stood and seemed to think about her answer for a few seconds.
“Well yes technically but once she carried the mark of a fancy girl she will be one forever, there won't be any escape from her fate then. What do you think Tracey, should I ask the blacksmith to brand that pretty little rump of yours?” she smiled.
Now the idea appalled Tracey, as Emily had said, a brand was permanent and despite her protestations would confirm her status as a fancy girl forever not just two days. On the other hand why did the idea turn her on so much, she knew she was moistening at the very thought as she stood there and so instead of saying an emphatic no, as she knew she should, she instead lowered her head and said,
“Well that is your choice, I do seem to be in your charge after all.”
“Yes your right,” Emily smiled amused, “maybe it would be the best thing to do, settle your status here once and for all.”
Without raising her head Tracey uttered,
“I am sure whatever you choose will be the wisest decision Mistress.”
Emily giggled delighted at Tracey's form of addressing her,
“You seem to know already who is in charge here.” Tilly go and alert the blacksmith that his services may be required very soon.”
The black girl scampered out of the door with a triumphant smile on her face and alone now Emily approached Tracey.
“I know this is an exciting little game cousin but once you feel the heat of the iron there is no going back, if anyone has the slightest suspicion in the future that you are trying to pass yourself off as a free white woman one look at your rump will prove that you are a slave and you will be treated as one.”
“I am well aware of the danger Emily,” Tracey replied raising her head and looking her cousin in the eye, “I still stay that as mistress of this land it is your decision.”
Emily squeaked in delight,
“Well in that case I decide to brand you.” she giggled and on saying that she spun round and walked out.
Tracey had no idea why she had acted as she did, she certainly did not want to be permanently branded and the consequences that would bring on the other hand she was feeling totally submissive, ever since she had stood naked in front of Emily's husband. The whole idea of being a fancy girl was strangely attractive , could it be any worse than be married to her husband!
She knew it could of course, she would effectively be a slave, a white slave but still a slave. Somebody else’s property. How was she going to get out of this, she had just told her cousin that she was free to brand her and that was what Emily intended to do!
While she stood pondering her fate the door suddenly opened and the room was full of girls her age, giggling and looking at her curiously. They were all very pretty and barely dressed , wearing just small towels wrapped loosely around their bodies. It was obvious that these were her living companions, real life fancy girls.
Introductions were made and the girls seemed to accept her as one of their own and within a minute of entering the room the towels were discarded and Tracey found herself surrounded by five completely naked girls! They didn't seem to be in the least bit embarrassed as they painted their toenails and any other pampering that needed doing and Tracey had ample opportunity to observe the brands on each pretty bottom which clearly denoted what these girls were.
Five minutes later the door opened again and in came Emily, the girls although naked were not embarrassed at all and all curtsied as the lady of the house came in.
“I see you've been making friends Tracey.”, she said amused, “I've just come to tell you that the blacksmith is currently away in town picking up some supplies so your branding will have to wait., in the meantime settle in here and make yourself at home with your sisters, I may see you in a few days.”
and with that she was gone and Tracey was left alone surrounded by five naked girls!
Over the course of the next two days she soon found out that the life of a fancy girl was fairly mundane. All they seemed to do was sit around gossiping and sewing with no real work to do, yes they had to keep their room tidy etc. but that was pretty simple work.
The girls were friendly enough to Tracey and treated her as one of their own but all the time she could only wonder when Emily would return with a wicked smile on her face and say her husband had gone and she was free to return to the big house and reclaim her previous life. Then on the second full day Emily did return but it was with a completely different proposition!
Apparently a slave appraiser was visiting the next day and she had decided to get all the fancy girls appraised as well.
“But I was hoping to return to the main house.” Tracey almost wailed.
“All in good time maybe, but wouldn't it be fun to find out your true worth if you were put on the block.” Emily giggled.
Although Tracey could see the attraction she also knew the idea could be fraught with danger.
“What if the man recognises me at some future party etc.” she asked with a hint of desperation.
“Oh there's no danger of that.” Emily smiled before continuing, “ he's not from around here, after tomorrow you will probably never see him again.”
Tracey had to admit that despite her trepidations it was an exciting thought, to be assessed by a man who would only be judging her value based on her beauty and figure, like a prize animal and with Emily's assurances that it would just be a giggle she found herself nodding her head in agreement.
The next morning all six girls were raised early by a young black boy as always, although Tracey always wondered why as they had little to fill the days once up. She actually saw the appraiser arrive. About eleven am a buggy pulled up outside the main house and a rather portly man got out. He looked mean and humourless to Tracey as he stood outside the house awaiting Emily and she shuddered inwardly at the thought of what was to come.
An hour later all six girls got to their feet from where they had been sitting outside in the shade as Emily approached with the man and Tilly also accompanied them.
“These are our fancy girls, as you can see we have six which I think is too many so one or two will be going to market soon and I would be grateful if you could cast you eye over them and help me decide which ones would fetch the best price. “ Emily smiled sweetly.
“Of course my dear, I will be happy to put them through their paces for you and I can assure you I am most thorough in my inspections.” the man replied in a manner that only inspired dread in Tracey.
“Maybe the coral would be best?” Emily smiled again and Tracey followed the other girls to the circular coral one hundred yards away where there was no shade and the sun was approaching its highest.
“Take your clothes off girls, buck naked, let the nice man see your charms.” Emily shouted clapping her hands loudly.
The idea seemed outrageous to Tracey, the coral was not a private place at all and apart from the appraiser several males were idly standing around, staff and slaves, and all were watching the group of girls with excited interest.
To her dismay though several of the other girls immediately started undoing their dresses obviously used to following orders, an action that drew even more interest from the onlookers. O fcourse the idea of being naked in a public place was outrageous but what choice did she have so slowly and with some hesitation Tracey started to do the same feeling that she had no choice. It wasn't long before the first girl was bare naked and standing in the full glare of the sun and the excited people watching seemingly without embarrassment. Tracey was the last one undressed and she stood much more hesitantly completely naked. In her days at the saloon she had showed herself off on numerous occasions but never as publicly or as blatantly as this and to say she was embarrassed would be an understatement. It soon got even worse when Tilly went around collecting the discarded clothes leaving Tracey feeling even more naked.
What followed was nothing short of degrading, every inch of her was poked,prodded, sqiuezed and pulled and all in the full glare of the sweltering sun and all in full view of anyone who wanted to watch, and there was an ever increasing number of people who wanted to watch!
Of course it wasn't only Tracey that was being examined, the other five girls were getting exactly the same treatment. Finally after an hour he made all six girls trot around the edge of the coral for ten minutes, boobs bouncing, as if they were prize ponies.
Coming to an exhausted stop and by now not concerned by her nakedness, Tracey stood in line in front of Emily and the grinning man who was obviously enjoying his “work”.
“A fine group of fillies ma'am.” he laughed to Emily.
“Yes but which one is worth most on the block?” Emily asked.
“Oh this one without a doubt, she will fetch you a pretty penny I'm sure.” the man replied pointing directly at a startled Tracey.
“Really.” squeaked Emily delighted.
“Oh yes definitely, she has a pretty face and big heavy breasts that demand to be played with and she is not marked yet?”
“No, I was going to but our blacksmith is away on business.” Emily said.
“Well that is good fortune for you ma'am, buyers prefer unmarked girls, she could pass as pure white.”
“She is pure white.” giggled Emily.
“Oh so much the better.” the man laughed, “how did you acquire her may I ask?”
“I happened to be at the docks in town when her boat came in from England, she was unaccompanied and in need of assistance so I had some papers drawn up for her and now she is legally mine.” Emily smiled.
“Oh very good, most unaccompanied white pussy that comes on boats ends up on the block shortly after arriving on these shores, it is a good form of business for some folk.” the man laughed casually.
“Well it certainly was for me, she didn't cost me a penny.” Emily giggled.
“Well she will make you a fine profit then when you sell her.” and both of them laughed uproariously as if turning poor white girls that had just arrived in the country into slaves was a huge joke!
Of course Tracey didn't want to be sold, this was just a game as far as she was concerned. A game that had gone too far maybe and she shouldn't of agreed to let it go this far but still just a game that she could put a stop too.
Like the other girls she was dismissed and walking back to their hut they found their clothes inside and despite the heat it still felt good to be covered again.
As evening fell and knowing that her husband was away Tracey took all her courage in hand and marched up to the house and demanded to see Emily.
Emily feigned surprise to see her,
“I expected you up here before but I assumed you were enjoying your new life too much.” she grinned.
Tracey demanded an end to the situation and that she thought it would be best if she ended her visit in the morning and spend her time back at the hotel while she arranged the train back home.
To Tracey's surprise Emily did not put up much of an objection. She had expected her to protest, tell her that the blacksmith was due back soon etc. especially as she was so highly appraised, but Emily seemed to accept Tracey's decision and apart from making her spend her last night at the plantation still in the fancy girls hut she was most agreeable.
The next morning Tracey was quite excited, she was disappointed that this trip had not turned out to be the long stay she had hoped for but she knew that to stay any longer would almost certainly result in her enslavement, something that was exciting in night-time fantasies but not so in the reality of broad daylight!
With barely a farewell from Emily Tracey was soon on her way on the long journey by buggy to town. The buggy and slave driver had been loaned by Emily and the conversation was sparse between the two and the time before she was outside the hotel seemed to last for ever.
There was good news and bad news when she enquired at the reception desk, the hotel had a room for her, the bad news was the fact that she could not get on a train home until Tuesday, six days time.
The prospect of spending six days in the barely adequate hotel by herself did not feel her with joy but she had no choice and she soon found herself unpacking in the same room as she was in before, with her view over the platform.
The six days passed as slowly as she thought they would, she spent most of her time alone in her room only coming out for meals which were held in the large dining room which was often frequented by saloon girls looking for business and men all to willing to give it to them.
The male guests of the hotel were rather rough and shabby and looked upon Tracey with suspicion, and of course lust, she had reverted to wearing her northern style dresses which showed off her ample cleavage to its best effect.
Despite continuing to wear her rather prominent and large wedding ring she soon found herself with a few suitors, men who instead of admiring her from afar would come up and try to woe her. She allowed these men to talk to her and occasionally buy her lunch but any signs of further intent were politely but firmly rebuffed, she was after all a married woman.
One such man was a Mr Johnson who seemed to cling onto her like a limpet and seemed to be besotted with her even though she did nothing to encourage his advances. Indeed she was really rather rude to him at stages but he seemed oblivious to this. The simple fact was she found him an overbearing bore and she had no physical attraction to him at all, he was at least twenty years older than her and more than a little overweight, in fact he reminded her quite a lot of her husband, a definite negative!
On more than one occasion though she found herself at the dinner table with her listening to his inane chat and smiling sweetly while she pretended not to notice him staring down the front of her dress.
And then disaster struck, one day before her train home was due she was at such a dinner when she idly looked over to the other dining tables and was shocked to see that not ten feet away sat the appraiser who had so thoroughly and intimately examined her at Emilys.
She quickly buried her head in the menu, the appraiser was sitting with another man and was in deep conversation and did not appear to of noticed her, which was the way Tracey wanted to keep it, he believed her to be a slave.
There was also the embarrassment of knowing where the man had poked and prodded her, places Mr Johnson could only dream of having access too.
For the rest of dinner Tracey could only sit there and agonise over circumstances until the moment came, when she knew it would, when out of the corner of her eye she saw the dreadful man stand and approach her table.
“Unusual to see a girl such as yourself in such surroundings.” he said looking gown at her with a glint of triumph in his eyes.
“A girl such as myself Sir?” Tracey replied, her heart pounding.
“Yes a slave, a fancy girl.” the man said much too loudly.
Tracey decided that the only way out of this predicament was to call his bluff and so gathering as much courage as she could she looked him in the eye,
“You are mistaken Sir, I am a free woman and I demand an apology.”
For a second the man looked as though he had doubts about his accusation and Tracey dared to believe that her front had worked but then he seemed to regather his wits and sneered at her,
“I do not apologise to slaves, does your mistress know you are here?”
To her surprise it was Mr Johnson who came to her aid, standing up he snorted,
“I can assure you Sir that the young lady is a fine respectable lady and I will not have you talking to her in such a manner.”
Tracey could of kissed him and again saw a look of doubt cross the mans face but it swiftly faded as he said,
“I told your mistress to get you marked or else this would happen. Well no matter now, I am dining with an eminent slave catcher and he will be glad to make your acquaintance.”
Tracey cursed under her breath, why wouldn't this man leave her alone, and the learn that he was dining with a slave catcher was even worse!
“Come my dear, I have had enough of this gentleman’s impudence, let us retire to your room away from his poor company.” Mr Johnson said, holding out his hand for her.
Knowing full well that Mr Johnson had wanted to get into her room many times before she could think of no reason to deny him now and so she took his offered hand and as he led her out of the dining room she heard the dreadful appraiser shout after her,
“See you soon Miss, no doubt I will be seeing all of you again.”
She was well aware of the muttered conversations going on at the other tables as she passed and the accusing eyes following her as she left, but she just wanted to be out of there and in the comfort of her own room.
Her dread didn’t abate too much though once she was there, the appraiser seemed quite insistent about his accusations and why shouldn't he, only a few days earlier she had been prancing around in front of him completely naked!
Why had this to happen now when she was so close to escaping the town.
She sat and rank tea with Mr Johnson in an awkward atmosphere, he had defended her honour in the dining room but she could see some confusion is his eye and she was aware that he was starting to believe there was something not quite right about the situation.
To Tracey's relief there was no knock at the door or shouting from outside, maybe the man had gone and was going to leave her alone.
Around this time Mr Johnson suggested she have a bath, freshen herself up for the long train journey ahead of her in the morning. The room was fitted with a bath with new plumbing and filling it with water would not be the labour intensive effort it would normally entail. Still the thought of being naked in the bath with Mr Johnson in the room, screens or not, did not fill her with delight.
To her relief however he offered to go back downstairs and have a drink in the bar while she bathed and she soon found herself luxuriating in the warm water thinking what a good idea it was to freshen up.
She had no idea how long she was in there but the water had turned cold before she stood up and reached for a towel and Mr Johnson chose that exact moment to return to the room.
Hurriedly making sure that the towel covered herself as much as possible she implored him to give her another ten minutes to make herself decent but she could see straight away that he'd had more than on drink in the bar, several from the way he sat down and looked at her!
“I've been talking to your gentleman friend downstairs, “ he slurred slightly, “he still seems convinced that you are a runaway slave he appraised last week.”
“That is preposterous.” Tracey said adamantly forgetting for a second her state of undress.
“Is it my dear, he seems very sure, in fact he says the girl he inspected had a mole at the top of her right thigh as a distinguishing mark. Have you got such a mole?” he asked lustfully.
Of course Tracey did have such a mole but she didn't want to show Mr Johnson that, apart from anything else it would be inappropriate and it would also confirm her fate, how else would the appraiser know she had such an intimate mark unless he'd seen it.
“Don't be silly, now I must insist that you allow me some dignity and let me dress in privacy.” she snorted at him with as much rudeness as she could muster.
“In time my dear, I did not mean to offend you but the view you are offering is so enticing.” he laughed, “why don’t you step out of the bath, it must be so cold.”
The water was indeed so cold and so keeping a firm grip on the towel she stepped out which proved to be her downfall because despite her best efforts as she raised her leg the towel parted sufficiently to clearly expose the mole on her thigh.
“Runaway, runaway.” Mr Johnson suddenly shrieked at the top of his voice almost making Tracey topple out of the bath altogether in surprise. Instead she hurriedly stepped out and rushed over to him in an effort to calm him and stop him shouting but she was shocked when the door burst open and in strode the appraiser and his slave catcher friend.
“I knew it was you, well your coming with us.” he shouted and reached out and grabbed her arm.
They must have been waiting outside the room for Mr John sons call she reasoned and started to panic now, Mr Johnson had all the proof he needed of her guilt and these men were determined to act on it. Of course she wasn't a runaway slave at all but how could you explain that it had all been a little game and what self respecting white woman would of allowed herself to be examined so intimately by the appraiser.
“Unhand me Sir!” she exclaimed but with less conviction than before, she knew she was in a very vulnerable position, apart from anything else she was in her room with three gentlemen dressed only in a towel.
“You are coming with me Missy, you are nothing but a runaway slave and will be treated as such.” he exclaimed back and she was aware that the slave catcher was looking on with lustful eyes.
The man started to pull her from the room, mortified at being displayed so publicly dressed as she was Tracey fought and struggled but to no avail, the man was much stronger than she and slowly but surely she was pulled into the public parts of the hotel.
She quickly attracted a lot of attention, some tutting from the women and lots of appreciative looks from the men who was obviously hopeful that her precariously fastened towel would fall off completely.
“This is a mistake, let me go.” Tracey screamed in a more and more frantic tone.
“No mistake young lady, we are going to make sure everyone knows exactly what you are.” the slave catcher laughed from behind her.
The front entrance door was approaching now, surely they didn't expect to take her outside like this!
Just as it seemed they did Tracey thought her salvation appeared in the form of the hotel manager who she had previously spoken civilly too stood in front of them baring their way. Her hopes were son dashed though when the manager addressed the men leading her,
“Gentlemen, I can assure you that I had no idea she was a runaway, obviously she would not of been allowed to stay at this establishment if I had, as you can see she can easily pass as white.” and with that he swiftly pulled the towel from her leaving her standing in the hotel lobby quite naked.
Tracey wasn't the only one to gasp out loud, the shame and humiliation was almost too much to take, the two men leading her had a firm grip on her arms so she was unable to cover herself from the numerous people now straining to get a better look at her fully exposed charms.
As before there were mutterings, laughter and shouts of indignation in equal measure and Tracey was dimly aware of the appraiser pulling her forward again,
“Out we go.” he laughed pushing her out the door and into the bright sunlight.
The hotel was situated on the main street of town and Tracey knew she was drawing a large crowd as she was pulled roughly through the street, men women and children revelling in her plight and enjoying the sight of her large breasts bouncing slightly as she was walked.
She was still protesting her innocence but the fight was almost gone from her and she allowed herself to be led limply through the street for the amusement of the onlookers.
She had no idea where they were taking her but they seemed to be walking with a purpose and when thy finally stopped she looked up with dread at the blacksmiths sign.
Surely not but it seemed so.
“Right then young lady let's get you properly marked, then everyone will know your true status.” the appraiser laughed loudly and all she could do was shudder in fear.
She couldn't allow herself to be branded, apart from the immediate pain of the brand it would bring with it a lifetime of pain., shame and embarrassment. She wasn't even a slave!
She fought the mans grip with renewed vigour and as much strength as she could but it was no good, her five foot two inch frame was no match for him and she resorted to weakly crying out,
“I am not a slave.”
which only seemed to bring laughter and jeers from the watching group of onlookers, it was if they didn't care about her plight as long as they got to see a naked white woman as part of the deal.
“Brand the bitch, brand the bitch.” was a cry soon shouted loudly by the baying mob, they didn't know her, they didn't know if she were a slave or a free woman but she was attractive and naked in front of them and that was enough to whip them into a frenzy.
The appraiser laughed and as the blacksmith approached looking at the naked Tracey was lustful interest he said,
“Heat up your iron smithy, got a fine rump for you to mark.”
“Are you sure,” the smith asked casting an eye over the struggling Tracey, “she looks mighty white to me.”
“Does it matter? “ the appraiser bellowed loudly, “Get the iron on her behind and then we will all be sure.”
To Tracey's hope the blacksmith still seemed to be looking at her with a lack of determination but then the slave catcher laughed,
“Don't delay sir, no need to worry, it's not as if you haven’t applied the iron to plenty of pure white hides before, what's one more.”
That seemed to make up the smiths mind as he disappeared back into his shop presumably to heat the branding iron.
“No this isn't right.” Tracey wailed but she knew nobody was listening to her.
As she struggled she was pulled into the smiths work area, the only relief being that she was now out of the sight of the gawking crowd of onlookers.
“She won't be so feisty once she feels the heat of the iron against her skin.” the appraiser laughed holding her secure as they approached a blazing brazier complete with the long handle of the iron sticking out.
Her breasts heaved at the sight as she started sobbing, there was no way out, she was naked and they meant to brand her condemning her to a life of slavery. The men certainly seemed in no mood for mercy, even the blacksmith was warming to the task.
She was led over to a low rail and roughly bent forward over it so that her bottom was presented lewdly high in the air.
“She makes a good target for you sir.” she heard someone laugh from behind her and she clenched wondering how much she was showing and how badly this was going to hurt.
The answer was not long in coming as the iron was pulled from the fire and although Tracey couldn't see it she knew it must be glowing red.
“You are sure gentlemen? There will be no escape for her once she is marked.” she heard the blacksmith ask.
“most of the town has seen her naked now,” she heard the appraiser laugh, “what respectable woman would allow that to happen, mark her as a slave.”
Then without further warning Tracey's world exploded into a sea of pain as the red hot iron was pressed against her right cheek. She was sure it was held there for minutes but it must of only been seconds but she knew the effect would be permanent. The pain hardly abated when the iron was removed and she felt something cold and wet applied to her bottom.
“I never get tired of seeing that, however many times I see it and I've seen it a lot, a posh white woman reduced to a slave in a second.” she was dimly aware of someone laughing behind her and fresh tears coursed through her.
“Right string her up till I hear back from her mistress, see what she wants me to do with her.”
Almost in a daze the pain was still clouding her mind Tracey was only dimly aware of being dragged out into the open again and a rope attached to her wrists which was then thrown over a large branch of a tree and she was hauled to her feet. They didn't stop there though, they kept on pulling her higher and higher until she was standing on tip toes and then even higher until she was a foot off the ground and swinging gently.
Despite the pain of the burn she now had a new pain to contend with, her wrists were supporting her whole weight and hurt dreadfully, could this day get any worse!
“Ladies and gentleman, as you can see she has been branded now and is therefore officially a slave, “the appraiser shouted out to anyone who cared to listen,” now although she is someone else's property I'm led to believe that she is willing to sell her at a reasonable price so please feel free to examine the merchandise at your leisure and place any bids you may wish to make, I'm sure they will all be carefully considered however low.”
She would like to say that the townsfolk treated her with dignity and respect but alas they treated her as a piece of livestock up for sale, inspecting and prodding and poking her to their hearts content as they laughed and joked. Men women and children all had their fun and she could see several men seemingly placing their bis with the appraiser, this included several men who had tired to court her and of course the ubiquitous Mr Johnson who had enjoyed inspecting her thoroughly.
She had no idea how long she hung there but she was aware of th