So I've had this idea for awhile about a story of a strong buck who gets separated from his mother by callous slaveowners and goes to work on a plantation. 200 years later the slaveowner's descendants are in the year 2019 and the white ******** is really into hip-hop and twerking. She meets a muscular black thug at a rap concert who happens to be the descendant of the slaves in her forefather's plantation. The thug steals the ********, and her mother, and blacks the entire ****** while exacting untold pain and revenge on the white man. So here is the start and let me know if I should continue this.
* * *
THE YEAR IS 1808
Jawunta screamed.
She writhed and thrashed in the chains around her wrists and ankles when she saw the white overlord point at her fully-grown son, M'bogro.
"Aye, that one!" The white overlord and slaveowner, Alexander Stephens, exclaimed. "That's exactly the kind of buck I need to pull the plow!" M'bogro was quite the specimen, naturally cut with a perfect, broad-shouldered physique, legs like tree trunks, and dreadlocks that hung past his shoulders.
"NOOOO!" Jawunta screamed. "MAH BABYYYYYYYY!"
"Shut the hell up, you loud fucking, filthy she-boon!" Replied Lucas Stephens, the 27 year old son of Alexander. He whacked Jawunta across the face with a paddle.
It happened so fast, and a group of white men hauled her son away, she had no chance to say goodbye, couldn't even see his face for a moment, and just like that, he was gone.
The chasm in Jawunta's heart widened and threatened to tear her in half as she writhed in the throes of trauma and despair. She wanted nothing more than to kill herself.
* * *
That evening, Catherine Stephens and her ********* stood on the porch, all dressed in modest Victorian dresses.
In their Louisiana plantation, the slaves would gather in a ring and start their voodoo rituals. They would start whooping and hollering. The women would bend over and gyrate their behinds into the men in a primitive, lascivious display.
"Mama, why do they do that? They must smell so bad!" Asked Juliet, the pale-skinned, blonde, blue-eyed youngest ********.
"Because they are niggers, my ********. They are not like us; they're more like monkeys. They aren't really human."
Victoria, Juliet's older sister, chimed in:
"They mate like animals, Juliet. They spread their sickness and filth everywhere, and then they die of disease."
Juliet absorbed the information like a sponge and believed it, viewing the animalistic dancing monkey-girls bending over in front of the big, gorilla-like
monkey-boys. She eyed the monkey-boy's big, bulgy bicep. He was the newest slave, M'bogro, although Juliet never learned of this or his name as he was
totally irrelevant.
Lucas, their older brother, suddenly rode out of the barn on his horse into the pack of slaves and cracked his whip everywhere, dispersing them.
"Settle down! Back to your huts! Now! Go to sleep! Enough of this debauchery!"
* * *
THE YEAR IS 1808
Jawunta screamed.
She writhed and thrashed in the chains around her wrists and ankles when she saw the white overlord point at her fully-grown son, M'bogro.
"Aye, that one!" The white overlord and slaveowner, Alexander Stephens, exclaimed. "That's exactly the kind of buck I need to pull the plow!" M'bogro was quite the specimen, naturally cut with a perfect, broad-shouldered physique, legs like tree trunks, and dreadlocks that hung past his shoulders.
"NOOOO!" Jawunta screamed. "MAH BABYYYYYYYY!"
"Shut the hell up, you loud fucking, filthy she-boon!" Replied Lucas Stephens, the 27 year old son of Alexander. He whacked Jawunta across the face with a paddle.
It happened so fast, and a group of white men hauled her son away, she had no chance to say goodbye, couldn't even see his face for a moment, and just like that, he was gone.
The chasm in Jawunta's heart widened and threatened to tear her in half as she writhed in the throes of trauma and despair. She wanted nothing more than to kill herself.
* * *
That evening, Catherine Stephens and her ********* stood on the porch, all dressed in modest Victorian dresses.
In their Louisiana plantation, the slaves would gather in a ring and start their voodoo rituals. They would start whooping and hollering. The women would bend over and gyrate their behinds into the men in a primitive, lascivious display.
"Mama, why do they do that? They must smell so bad!" Asked Juliet, the pale-skinned, blonde, blue-eyed youngest ********.
"Because they are niggers, my ********. They are not like us; they're more like monkeys. They aren't really human."
Victoria, Juliet's older sister, chimed in:
"They mate like animals, Juliet. They spread their sickness and filth everywhere, and then they die of disease."
Juliet absorbed the information like a sponge and believed it, viewing the animalistic dancing monkey-girls bending over in front of the big, gorilla-like
monkey-boys. She eyed the monkey-boy's big, bulgy bicep. He was the newest slave, M'bogro, although Juliet never learned of this or his name as he was
totally irrelevant.
Lucas, their older brother, suddenly rode out of the barn on his horse into the pack of slaves and cracked his whip everywhere, dispersing them.
"Settle down! Back to your huts! Now! Go to sleep! Enough of this debauchery!"