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It’s the eve of the Civil War, and Melanie’s love life sucks, what with her plantation-owning husband away at militia trainings and state’s rights conferences. Then she overhears the house servants swooning over Big Jim, a black field hand who’s big in every sense.
Soon, Melanie’s corn field trysts are filling her needs—until the Master of Oglethorpe confronts the randy 19-year-old. She confesses, but her contriteness causes more trouble. She’s in for a spanking! [historical erotica, role-playing, spanking, MF, BBC, erotic humor, BDSM, interracial]
E-Read Erotica Reviews: A strong recommend for general erotica readers, and those with a penchant for spanking and naughty wives. … An excellent little piece of work here, not only is this researched, it sets the tone wonderfully, keeps moving at a brisk pace, stops for the little details, and knows when to turn up the burner and boil the pot.
“Oh, Beau, if you only knew! You’re always away on plantation business. And those damnable state’s rights conferences! What’s a woman to do? I’m nineteen now, our marriage is nearly five years old, and you never have time for me. If it’s not a conference or a militia training, you’re on a visit to the capital lobbyin’ the legislature.”
“Let me understand,” he said, drawing himself up to his full height. “You venture to the corn fields for assignations with a…with a…field hand?”
“You’re assumin’…” she drawled.
“What’s to assume? Big Jim stumbles out of the corn field with a big grin on his face, while a lady with a white parasol and her house slave scurry away.”
“Her name is Beulah,” she muttered, sotto voce.
“Oh, it’s Beulah, thank you. That’s very helpful,” he sneered.
“Well, Beau, she ought to be very familiar to you. Ever notice the little red-haired pickaninnies in the yard? The ones with freckles that Beulah pops out every nine months or so?”
“Madam, what are you inferring?”
“The same thing you’re inferrin’,” she shot back, rising from the settee and returning to the window. “If you only knew—the long days you’re away. And the nights.”
“These are tumultuous times, my dear, and a woman just can’t understand. The Yankees are about to make a stand in Charleston. Our mettle will be tested.”
“I have needs, Beau.” She stood at the window, her back to him, looking down at her hands.
“But…but…a field hand? Big Jim?”
She turned, her eyes blazing. “He’s not called Big Jim for nothin’! The servants talk.”
“What? What do you mean?”
“What I mean is, he’s not Irish,” she hissed, her finger tapping her forearm just below her elbow. “He’s big.”
Word count: 4,000