Darkwood Plantation
Copyright© 2026 by Phillip Marks
Part 5: Final Reckoning
Historical Sex Story: Part 5: Final Reckoning - A woman visits her relatives in the south on the eve of the American Civil War and struggles to fit into their world.
Caution: This Historical Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Heterosexual Fiction Interracial Black Male White Female Anal Sex Facial Oral Sex
“I have never ... never ... in all my years seen such inappropriate behavior!” hissed my Aunt Margareet. She was pacing back and forth in front of me. I was sitting on a couch in the study, disheveled dress and all. Dessert had come and gone. The guests had departed and now it was time to deal with me. My uncle Wyatt was behind her near a piano watching intently. His would have the final say on things.
“Insulting the gentlemen with your talk of politics and numbers ... running off like you did! I just ... ahhh! I am so angry with you Polly!”
My aunt continued to pace. I kept my eyes down.
“But then again you are my sister Elaine’s daughter! She was just like you years ago: willful, opinionated ... she didn’t know when to keep her mouth shut ... just like you!” roared my aunt.
“I’m not allowed to have opinions?” I said quietly. This was not my smartest move.
“Ahhh!” cried my aunt. “She’s impossible!” For a moment I thought Margareet was going to slap me; I would’ve slapped her right back.
My uncle Wyatt stepped forward. “Look Polly, we understand that this is a new environment for you but you will only be with us until August. I suggest you obey our rules and learn what you can. If you cannot fit in I will send you back home. Am I making myself clear?”
“Yes sir,” I responded, looking back down.
He continued: “Now I know you don’t want to embarrass your mother and father or my household.”
“No sir. Absolutely not,” I said. I started to feel some of the tension in the room fade.
“Understand that if a man had said what you said to Lieutenant Miles we would not have had brandy and cigars – we would’ve been watching a duel.”
My aunt chimed in, slightly calmer now. “Polly, a lady knows her place. She is not flirtatious, gossipy, or loud – she is placed upon a pedestal and has to be deserving of that honored place. She knows how to keep her man happy and his home beautiful. Do you understand?”
My mind was running a thousand miles a minute. A lady knows how to keep a man happy? Nope. I had figured out how to keep a man happy a long time ago! The rest of what my aunt was saying was ... poppycock. I couldn’t think of a decent word for it that moment.
As far as staying for the rest of the summer or going back to Philadelphia ... I wanted to stay. Samson and Conrad were both fun and I wanted to see them both again. I was confident we wouldn’t get caught; I had gotten used to being the smartest person around in virtually every situation I found myself in and this was doubly true down here.
Call it raw intelligence, gifted insight, or profound awareness but I knew ... I fucking knew ... that all of this – plantations, slaves, glittering southern belles, and dashing country gentlemen – it was going to be swept away. This would be my last chance to see this lifestyle firsthand and I had better take it.
“I’m sorry I embarrassed you Aunt Margareet ... Uncle Wyatt,” I began. My words were careful and measured. “I didn’t understand. Now I think I do. I want to stay and learn what I can from you about proper etiquette. I will obey your rules ... if you let me.” I smiled lightly at my relations.
“I’m very glad to hear that,” answered my Uncle Wyatt.
“It will be better Polly,” said Aunt Margareet. “I’m sorry I got so angry. I didn’t realize that you didn’t understand.”
“I’ll do better,” I said.
Aunt Margareet went to the door of the study. “Maggie! Bet!” she called for a pair of servants. “Please draw a bath for Miss Polly.” The servants moved – with less enthusiasm than normal given the long day they had already had.
She turned back to me. “Polly, you get cleaned up and refreshed. Tomorrow morning is church and then brunch. We will properly introduce you to our neighbors.”
I smiled warmly and trotted off.
The next week was relaxed and enjoyable. My days were spent riding, strolling, and rowing. Mister Conrad Mulligan came calling and he took Ella and I fishing; though it was far less invigorating than our first encounter it was still fun and completely proper. All I had to do was bide my time. I would get him alone sooner or later. Samson was much more difficult but then he arrived very unexpectedly.
It was Thursday I believe – it was hard to tell with all my days of leisure. I was in my chamber preparing to go to bed, garbed only in a light linen nightgown with plenty of lace. My hair was down and I had just finished brushing it. The room was filled with thin lamplight. I had started a letter to my mother when I heard a rap at the window.
Outside a heavy Mississippi night had descended over the plantation. The inky black was palatable. There was no moon and the stars glistened in their soft summer glory. As I approached the window I was shocked to see the face of Samson peering back at me. The big field hand was clinging to the trellis.
I gasped in surprise and unlatched the window then I scurried across the room and locked my door. I moved back and helped Samson into my room. I threw my arms around his neck and we kissed. My soft tongue immediately began to explore the wet interior of his mouth. He accepted my kiss quite willingly and our tongues swirled around each other. I felt his strong rough hands follow the gentle smooth curves of my body, finally pulling up the thin lace of my gown and finding my skin. I spread my legs slightly, inviting his touch. My pussy quivered at his glancing caress.
“Samson, what are you doing here?” I finally asked. “This is dangerous, anyone could’ve seen you climbing the building.”
“I know Miss Polly,” he said. “I ... I just wanted to say good bye to you.”
“Good bye?”
“Yes ma’am. I’m gonna be leavin’ tonight. Its dark and I’m gonna run.”
“Samson, they’ll catch you!”
“No Miss Polly, not this time. I’ll kill before I come back here or they’ll have to kill me. I wanted to be with you once more though.”
I could hear the seriousness in his voice. I looked down, touching our foreheads and he tightened his arms around me. “I am going to miss you,” I said softly.
I pulled away and laid back on my bed, hiking the soft linen nightgown up and spreading my legs for him. I gently massaged the outer folds of my pussy. They were already moist. My body knew what was coming and quickly prepared itself. A soft sheen had appeared on my skin, amplified and shining even in the thin lamplight.
Samson tore off his shirt and pants. I could see his manhood in the dim light, thick, long, and heavy. He dropped to his knees with a slight smile, addressing my throbbing pussy. He approached it slowly, lightly rubbing his thumbs along the edges, almost taunting yet tantalizing me at the same time. I felt a spike of sexual heat meander through my body and I enjoyed it immensely.
A moment later his lips met my pussy. The first swipe of his tongue sent another stronger spike through my body. My pussy responded with copious juices – I couldn’t help it. I let out a soft female sound as the pleasure nerves in my body pulsed. Samson didn’t care; he dug into my pussy, licking, slurping, and gently nibbling. It didn’t take long for me.
I grabbed his head as a forceful orgasm rocked me. I bit a finger of my other hand almost hard enough to draw blood to stifle a scream of pleasure. I tossed my head back and forth and wildly arched my back, wrapping my legs around Samson as the quaked. He pushed through all of that, a snarl of pleasure on his face and laid atop me as I shook, suddenly kissing me.
It was not an ordinary kiss, not from this man. He released a mouthful of my syrupy juice into my mouth. It tasted so good! I eagerly gulped it down so I could meet his kiss. “I love you Miss Polly,” he murmured as he started to nuzzle my neck and his hands reached underneath to cup my breasts.
“I love you Samson. God ... I don’t know how but I do...” I answered. I could feel his warm flesh against my body. I could sense his trembling rock hard cock inches from my oozing pussy lips. I ran my hands along his back, feeling the rough scars of bondage, sensing his rippling muscles underneath a sheen of passion borne sweat. Just like before I sensed we were made for each other. Samson was strong, coarse, and massive, I was delicate, smooth, and small. We fit each other perfectly.
I groaned involuntarily as he penetrated me. His cock was like a massive steel spike, penetrating, piercing, and puncturing me. My pussy surrendered, my cervix muscles trembled with delight and parted. He was in my womb again.
The wave of bliss that struck me was so intense that I barely registered the next orgasm I experienced. It seemed like my body was on fire and my senses teetered on the edge of ... something. I didn’t have words for it. My legs wrapped around Samson’s waist.
He felt me shake with pleasure and engulfed me, wrapping his strong arms around me and slowing his thrusts down so I felt every sensation, every finger breadth of meaty iron. We kissed multiple times. I knew his taste, his aroma, and his seed. There was something ... Samson didn’t fuck me ... he took it from me ... my pussy, my ass, my mouth ... they were his.
He pulled away from me, allowing me to breath. My chest was heaving. Samson lightly toyed with my nipples, licked and sucking them gently. He continued to pump my pussy but I was all but spent. His muscular body was slick with sweat in the dim light. He picked up the pace of his thrusts ... a little. Then I saw his face contort into an orgasmic moan.