BDSM EROTIC COMIC ILLUSTRATION ARIES
ILLUSTRATED HISTORIES
THE STORY OF MOLLY B.
"Good morning, auntie! I hope you slept well."
That was, of course, Molly. Mrs. Bellew groaned. The girl swept into the room, opening curtains and rearranging the bedclothes, all the time humming cheerfully. Young, healthy, quite pretty and plump in a way that
men seemed to appreciate, she represented everything Mrs. Bellew hated.
Yet there had been no choice but to take her in, as she was an orphaned, distant relative. To keep her in her place, Mrs. Bellew had made her a white servant among Blacks, but even that did not seem to deter her overmuch.
"Molly! I've told you time and again that your witless exuberance is galling me, but you don't listen. So we'll try a different approach, this time. You go and see Jordan. Tell him to whip you for displeasing me."
Molly froze. The colour left her round, rosy cheeks, and her big, green eyes widened."Auntie??"
"I mean it. And tell him not to spare you. Now, go!!"
When the girl turned, a hand covering her trembling lips,* Mrs. Bellew called after her:
"Don't even dream of not repeating all my instructions to him! I'll ask him afterwards to make sure. And, oh, he can make free with you if he feels so inclined. Tell him that, too." This she added as a parting shot.
Molly fled.
Jordan was Mrs. Bellew's most trusted and efficient black servant, a big, heavily muscled man in his early thirties. His squarejawed, flatnosed face was mostly expressionless.
When he heard Molly calling his name, he turned.
"Oh, Jordan, what shall I do?? Aunt Bellew is terribly cross with me. She wants you to wh... whip me for displeasing her!! But I haven't done anything! I'm to tell you not to ... not to s... spare me. " Her lips started trembling, and her eyes were brimming.
"And ... " she choked. "And that you c... can m... make free with m... me if you like. "
She sobbed aloud, wringing her hands.
Jordan's face remained impassive, but his mind was seething. Actually he did not wish Molly any harm, as she was nice and friendly enough. But on the other hand, he had always felt strongly attracted to this pretty white girl. Her long, chestnut curls, her dark green eyes, her full, sensuous lips, her flawless skin and her nicely rounded forms had haunted quite a few of his hopeless dreams. And now she was made to give herself into his hands by orders of the missus – who be damned for doing this to her own flesh and blood?!?!
"You're not going to hurt me, Jordan, are you?"
He pulled himself together. "We must do as the Missus says!" he replied, putting on his best 'I'm but a dumb ole nigger' act. The whiteskins always fell for that one.
And so did she, breaking down and crying, but no longer arguing.
"Come with me, Missie." He took her by the arm.
"Where are you taking me?"
"Up yonder. You no want people watching, do you?"
That she didn't, and so, sobbing and shaking, she suffered herself to be led away. What made her predicament worse was that being at Jordan's mercy involuntarily turned her on. With his smooth, shiny dark skin and rippling muscles he had already figured in some of her more outrageous fantasies, and the idea that he was going to whip her felt at the moment just like such a one – only that, of course, this kind never, ever had been supposed to become real!! And indeed she still could not quite believe that this actuallywasfor real.
"What's this place?" she asked, fearfully wrapping her arms around her, when they had reached their destination, a large, gloomy room in one of the stables.
"This is where slaves were punished, Missie."
She clasped a hand to her mouth, again. Shuddering, she evoked the image of chained slaves being whipped, their black skin gleaming – only that, this time, it was to be a black man whipping a white girl ...
Jordan was thinking much along the same lines, feeling deeply pleased. Even if Molly was innocent – so had been all those slaves, as well!
"Come over here, Missie, 'tween those two poles. OK. Time now to take off your clothes."
"What??"
"T'is your skin be whipped, not your clothes, Missie."
Outrage overcame her fear, and her eyes flashed. "I'm not going to strip naked before you, no way!!"
Calmly he folded his arms. "T'is either you do it, or I."
"Don't you dare!!" Her voice rose.
"Why not? It's the missus' orders."
"I'll scream!"
"Ok with me." He started unfolding his arms.
"No, no, wait. Wait!" Eyes wild, bosom heaving, she tried to compose herself. "Wait. I'll do it." Then she started to cry again. "Oh, Jordan. This is really too bad!! I don't want to be whipped, I don't!"
He only shrugged and waited. "Missie ... !"
"Yes, yes" she fretted. "But you must turn your back on me!"
Her big, dark green, tearful eyes would have melted a stone, so he gave in, this once.
This little victory pleased her, in spite of everything. And when she started undoing her dress, her sex suddenly started to glow and throb again, worse than before, making her feel lightheaded and giddy.
Jordan, for his part, was not much better off. His cock felt as if it was going to burst, and it was all he could do to keep his breath more or less even when he turned again to look at her.
To be continued...