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MaryJane. Adult Subject. 21k A tale of slavery during WWII. (standard:drama, 20615 words) | |||
Author: Oscar A Rat | Added: Jun 17 2020 | Views/Reads: 1416/980 | Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes) |
NOTE: THE STORY DOES NOT ADVOCATE SLAVERY, QUITE THE OPPOSITE. A tale of slavery in the US during WWII. The grandson of a slave owner, one with fantasies of those olden days, finds he actually has one. Don’t expect much sex after the first few pages. | |||
"Oh, baby ... baaaby. Come'on, hon. Off with the panties." "Jus'a min. Hee-hee. C'n I keep a blanket on? I feel funny, mister." A door slammed open and an angry three-hundred-pound older woman stormed. "What the fuck you doing with my baby, you fucking pervert? Shreeeeek! She's only fourteen." "I ... I.... Goddamn." He stumbled in getting out of bed. Feet entangled in a bed sheet sent him sprawling onto the floor as the angry woman picked up a table lamp. Fearful of the advancing giantess, he scurried across the room on his knees as she slammed it across his back, dropping him face-down onto a dirty cracked-linoleum floor. Blood flowed from many small cuts, even as glass crackled under hands, elbows, and knee-bones as he crawled away. Head running into a wall, he curled up, one hand protecting his manhood. “Don ... don't! I dinna knowed, I dinna.” "I'm calling the cops, you fucking perverted bastard. Don't you dare try leaving." She dropped the remains of the lamp. Reaching into a dresser drawer, a pistol appeared in her hand. "I'll see you dead or in jail ... fucking bastard." While he remained sprawled on the floor, trying to pull up his trousers in that position, both females fought an urge to laugh at his antics. Instead, the girl muffled a fake scream while the older woman occasionally kicked him in vital and painful places. "You'll PAY for this," the larger one screamed. "I'll see that you PAY for violating my little girl's precious virginity." She paused before roaring, “And she's only fourteen.” Actually, she was a slow-developing eighteen at the time, though he didn't know that point. The words must have gotten through to the victim. "Yes. I can pay. Look," he pleaded, "I have a good job and ... and savings." "You think you can solve this with money? Fuck you. You stay down there while I call the police. You white bastards think your money solves everything. Not this fucking time." "Mama. Mama. We need the money, Mama. Please?" "Wait till they take him away, MaryJane. Then I'll deal with you. What did I tell you about these white men? They use you up and throw you away. Like fucking trash." "Mama. Stop and think a minute, Mama. The RENT Mama." "Please, ma'am? I'm not that way. I have a wife and three kids. I didn't know she was underage. Please don't do this. I'll give you ... maybe a hundred dollars? I have that much." "Take it, Mama. We need it." "Not for two-hundred. No. You stay on that fucking floor or I'll kill you myself. You hear me?" "Three.... No. Four hundred? Cash. I can borrow it." She lowered the pistol, still aiming in his general direction. "Today? Right now?" "Yes. As soon as the bank opens. And ... and I can get the rest out of the office safe and put it back before the end of the month. I have it ... right now. Please? Please? I'm sorry. She said she was seventeen." “Did you tell him that, MaryJane? Did you?” The girl, still clutching the sheet across tightly bound breasts, looked away. “I dunno, Mama ... maybe?” "We'll both go with you. No tricks. We do need the fucking cash. You try Click here to read the rest of this story (2518 more lines)
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