Chapter 2: A Big Surprise

The following morning we are woken about dawn by the ringing of the bell. I follow the example of the others and prepare myself for whatever the day holds in store for me. The other slaves form themselves into groups ready for one of the overseers to march their group off to whatever task is required of them today. Nobody has told me which group I should join, so I stand to one side like a lost sheep. Fortunately Raoul doesn’t leave me lingering for long and assigns me to one of the groups. I’m one of three women in the group, which also consists of eight men and two older girls. Moments later another overseer leads my group away to harvest sugar cane.

The work is demanding but no more so than sailing a ship in rough weather. Except that rough weather at sea doesn’t usually last forever, whereas our backbreaking work in the fields is never ending. I do my best to settle into my life on La Coccinelle plantation and I make many friends among the slaves. Jubal and Luke are especially friendly towards me, although I suspect that it may partly be due to my arsehole being wide enough to accommodate their huge cocks. I make it a rule never to allow a man to fuck my cunt, which both men seem happy to respect. I’ve no herbs to prevent pregnancy and I’m mindful of Hanna’s warning on the day I arrived here.

Hanna and I don’t confine our sexual activity to sessions in the barn. She regularly slips into my bed at night and we both sleep naked side by side. On more than one occasion I’ve woken in the night to find Hanna with her face buried between my legs. I’m often too tired to respond, but I’ve no intention of stopping her from taking her pleasure. My juices seem to flow without any conscious effort on my part. The other night I couldn’t work out whether I had an orgasm in my dreams or whether the orgasm was real courtesy of Hanna’s tongue. Hanna doesn’t seem to mind my lack of active response, although I do occasionally make an effort to bring her to an orgasm before falling back to sleep.

While my despondency over my cruel fate eases during my first few weeks at La Coccinelle, I still seem to have trouble with digesting the food. Which puzzles me since more often than not I’ve had to eat much worse food than the slave gruel served up on this plantation. It’s Peg who identifies a possible cause of my problem.

“You could be pregnant, Jackie,” says Peg.

“I can’t be!” I exclaim. “No man’s fucked my cunt since I arrived here.”

“What about before you arrived? You can be several months gone before your belly starts to swell.”

I think hard. I recall that the last man to fuck my cunt was Juan the foreman in Portugal. That was last February. Although Juan spilt his seed over my back, I suppose it’s possible that he didn’t withdraw his cock quickly enough. I remember that I had run out of the herbs which I’ve been taking to prevent pregnancy. Thinking back, I’ve not had my usual monthly flux in a while. I’ve been convincing myself that it was due to the deprivations of my life since my capture by Pardal. But what Peg says is a real possibility. Shit! Now what am I to do?

That evening I skip my usual session in the barn. At Peg’s suggestion I consult with Nola, one of the older women living in another hut. Nola asks me a few questions and makes an examination of my body before confirming Peg’s assessment that I’m almost certainly pregnant.

“You will need to tell one of the overseers so that the Master and Mistress can decide what to do,” says Nola.

“What are they likely to do?” I ask.

“It’s difficult to know. They may keep you here and put you on light duties when you get nearer to full term. Or they may decide to sell you. The Master and Mistress have plans to breed bigger and stronger slaves by using a few of their chosen male slaves as studs. That’s why they permit sex between the slaves, and why Luke and Jubal are regularly at the sex sessions in the barn. But you haven’t been here long enough for either of them to be the father of your child. Besides, I’m told that Luke and Jubal will now only fuck a woman in her arse as a way of rebelling against being used as studs.”

“Surely their defiance can only work for a while,” I say. “Someone will get suspicious when no more women become pregnant.”

“Yes, but that may take a while. Besides, there are other men and women among the slaves who fuck at every opportunity. Identifying a baby’s father isn’t a simple matter if the woman lies or simply doesn’t know which of several men could be the father.”

The next morning I inform Raoul of my likely pregnancy. He doesn’t look very pleased at my news. I’m immediately taken to the main house and marched in front of Mistress Brigitte. As expected, she asks me about the likely father. Since Juan is a long way away, I see no harm in my telling her.

“What colour skin does this Juan have?” asks Brigitte.

“Umm ... Similar to mine,” I reply. “Why?”

Mistress Brigitte ignores my question. She’s too preoccupied with her thoughts to reprimand me for not addressing her properly as ‘Ma’am’ or ‘Mistress’. Raoul notices though and I suppose there will be consequences once we have finished here.

“Put her back to work, Raoul. Light duties only for now. I’ll give this situation some further consideration.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” replies Raoul, sounding disappointed that he’s not going to be able to give me extra work for my lack of respect.

I’m reassigned to the group of slaves working in the main house. Most of the work is cleaning and polishing, but occasionally there’s work to do in the kitchen. The slaves in the house regard themselves as superior to the rest of the slaves on the plantation. They aren’t quite as friendly and they view my presence with suspicion. They haven’t been told why I’ve been reassigned and I’m not inclined to tell them. I find their attitude ridiculous, particularly as they spend each night in the same huts as the other slaves.

To be fair not all of the house slaves look down on me. Sam and Molly are friendly towards me, and before long we are sharing gossip and news between us. It’s through them that I learn that Brigitte’s husband, Jules, has been missing for several months and nobody is quite sure when and where he disappeared. Mistress Brigitte is playing an increasingly desperate delaying game to prevent her brother-in-law, Henri, from finding out. She’s worried that Henri will use her husband’s prolonged absence as an excuse to have him declared dead and to seize possession of the plantation for himself. The ruse requires Mistress Brigitte to pretend that her husband is here on the plantation. Only a few trusted employees like Raoul have been told the truth, but rumours have now spread among the slaves. It can only be a matter of time before those rumours reach beyond the plantation. Unfortunately, keeping up the lie means that no official search for her husband can be conducted. Having Jules declared dead would be a disaster for Brigitte since the local land ownership laws prohibit a woman from owning a plantation. She could be widowed and homeless at the stroke of some official’s pen.

“When and where was Master Jules last seen,” I ask Sam, who seems to know as much as anybody around here.

“He was last seen on the island of St. Lucia at the end of January. He met with some plantation owners there but the ship he was due to travel on back to Martinique arrived without him.”

I’ve been to St. Lucia four times during my life at sea. The local authorities on St. Lucia are unlikely to be interested in searching for a missing French plantation owner. Like Martinique, control of St. Lucia has been hotly contested between the French and English for well over a hundred years. It’s a situation which creates opportunities for the local low life to profit from the confusion.

As interesting as the mystery of the missing Jules sounds, it has nothing to do with me. It’s not until a month or so later, when Henri makes a surprise visit to the plantation, that I realise that Brigitte wouldn’t be the only one to suffer if Henri gained control of the plantation. Henri is one of the most overbearing men I’ve ever met, and he makes no effort to disguise his cruel streak.

Molly and I have the misfortune to be the two slaves tasked with serving refreshments to Mistress Brigitte and her guest. It was fortunate for us that Brigitte has a strong personality or Henri would have fucked Molly and I in her presence for no other reason than he believed that he had the right to do so. As it is, his hand wanders under our dresses more than once. Brigitte was not allowing him to fuck us though, and their meeting ended in a stormy row.

“At least it’s over,” says Sam later while comforting the shaken Molly.

“Only for now,” I reply. “It seems that the English have landed a garrison at Saint Pierre. All plantation owners are required to present themselves to the new Governor before the end of the month to swear an oath of loyalty. Anyone not doing so will be regarded as a rebel and their plantation confiscated.”