«One morning when she was helping me dress, she appeared to be in worse temper than usual, and, while brushing my hair, pulled it so roughly that I several times had to tell her to be more careful. I spoke gently, but my remonstrances seemed only to irritate her.
Tossing her head and giving my hair a nasty pull, she said in a most saucy way: "I oughtened to be brushin yo’ hair at all. Becos you is white, you tinks you is a very fine lady but you is not a bit better dan me. You isn’t married to de Massa, yet you sleeps wid him every night."
I flushed with anger. Rising from my seat, I ordered the girl to leave the room. She did so, laughing. The tears came into my eyes. My heart swelled and I felt a deep sense of degradation. It was humiliating that, owing to a series of misfortunes, I should have come to be spoken to in such a coarse way by a slave girl. But, alas! What she had said was the truth. I really was no better than she. After a moment or two, I put up my hair, finished dressing and went down to breakfast. I had not intended to say anything to Randolph, but he noticed that I was depressed and asked me what was the matter. "Oh, nothing much," I replied. "Rosa has been a little impertinent to me."» (Jean de Villiot, The Memoirs Of Dolly Morton).

«A dressmaker from Richmond paid several visits to the house, and I was well supplied with pretty frocks of all sorts for morning and evening wear, as well as a quantity of fine, richly-laced undergarments, silk stockings of all colors and numerous pairs of shoes. I had also a riding costume with breeches and boots; a horse was always at my disposal, and I was learning to ride. Randolph had also given me a lot of jewelry; he always made me dress for dinner in a low-necked frock, and one of the octoroons, a girl named Rosa, had been specially appointed to act as my maid.
Randolph was a clever man and well read, but he was a thorough libertine who considered women merely toys for the gratification of his sensual desires. Before my arrival at Woodlands all the pretty quadroon and octoroon slave girls had been his concubines. Not that he had been in the habit of sleeping with any one of them, but, whenever he wanted a girl, he would give her orders to be in his room at a certain hour of the day or night, as the case might be; then, after he had amused himself with her for an hour or two, he would send her away.
But though he used the girls as playthings whenever he felt inclined, he had not the slightest soft feeling towards them. They were his slaves, nothing more; and, whenever a girl misbehaved or offended him in any way, he either would send her to one of the overseers to be whipped or would inflict the punishment with his own hands.» (Jean de Villiot, The Memoirs Of Dolly Morton).

«I opened the lips, heavens! could I believe my senses. She was spending and her shift was quite wet. Whether it was accident or not I cannot say, but she had dropped one of her hands on my lap.
My truncheon had long been stiff as iron; this additional aggravation had such an effect that, with a start, away flew too material buttons and Jack sprang out of his box into her hand. At this she gave a little scream, and snatching away her own hand, at the same time pushed away mine. Jumping up, she began smoothing down her rumpled clothes and with great vehemence exclaimed, ’Oh, la! fie, sir: doantee, doantee. Oh, I’m afeard,’ etc., etc.
But I was not going to lose such a chance and began to soothe her with talk until at length we got back to the same position again. I grew more bold, I kissed her eyes and her bosom; I handled her lovely buttocks; I frigged her clitoris—her eyes sparkled; she seized upon that weapon which had at first so frightened her, and the next minute I had flung her back on the hay and was frigging away at her maidenhead; but she made a terrible outcry and struggled most violently.» (Edward Sellon, The Delights of Sex).

«In a moment my truncheon stood up hard and firm as a constable’s staff. I put it in their hands, I frigged and kissed their fragrant cunnies, I gamahuched them, and then the saucy Cerise, taking my ruby−tipped ferrule in her little rosy mouth, began rolling her tongue round it in such a way that I nearly fainted with bliss. At that moment our position was this: I lay stretched on my back on the grass; Blanche sat over me, a leg on either side, with my tongue glued to her rose. Cerise knelt astride of me also, with her posteriors well jutted out towards me, and one of my fingers was inserted in her rosebud. Nor were the hands of the delicious brunette idle: with her right she played with my balls and with the forefinger of her left hand she exquisitely titillated the regions beneath. But human nature could not stand this long; so changing our position I placed Blanche on her hands and knees while Cerise inserted my arrow, covered with saliva from her mouth, into the pretty Blanche. She was tight, but not a virgin, so after a thrust or two I fairly went in up to the hilt. All this while Cerise was tickling me and rubbing her beautiful body against me. Soon Blanche began to spend, and to sigh out, ’Oh! oh! dear sir, give it me now! Shoot it into me! Ah! I faint! I die!’ and as the warm fluid gushed into her she fell prone on the ground.» (Edward Sellon, The Delights of Sex).