SLAVE OWNER

BY HOLLANDER

[ part 4 ]

Knox was happy with the way things were going. The plantation was making good money, and he was raising a new crop of hands, foregoing the cost of buying them at auction. He’d impregnated little 12 year-old Paulette very easily, and her belly was swelling nicely. He enjoyed the occasional fuck with his pregnant girl, rubbing her belly and her swelling titties as he raped her from behind.

Greta had been interesting. The African girl had been terror-filled from the moment she was brought to him. She knew what the meaning of the naked white man was, and she knew he was not a Muslim, as she was. She had fought to keep him from raping her, and eventually, Felix had tied her, arms and legs, to the bedposts. Then the man had disgraced her by licking her girl thing, but, despite her fear and loathing, it had felt good, and she couldn’t help feeling something all over and making her girl juice. Then he had cruelly forced his big white thing into her. She screamed for help, but she knew no one would come. She had finished her girl time nearly two weeks ago, and she knew from the older women that this was the time when she could become pregnant. She didn’t want an infidel bastard in her womb, and she tried to wriggle out from under the big man, but his weight and the bonds prevented her from doing it.

His big cock felt as though it was tearing up her insides. She screamed again as he burst her hymen and rammed the big shaft all the way into her. She begged Allah to make her die, to remove this infidel from her body. But her screams only made him thrust harder, and he grasped her young breasts as he thrust into her. She screamed so loudly that her voice finally became faint, and she felt she would faint away from pain and shame. Then she felt him shudder, and then she felt his seed pour into her womb. She knew she was defiled, and she lay still, feeling the hateful sperm work its way into her baby-making works.

Knox enjoyed the fight in the girl, and he loved shaming her. Felix had been able to translate some of the words she had screamed, and he knew now that she was a Muslim. He raped her two more times that night, then had her locked back in her room. Over the next month, he had her tied down and had raped her repeatedly, her screams of pain and shame only fueling his lust for her. Then Mama Sally had delivered the news that she was definitely with child.

Fearing that she would do harm to the child, Knox had had her tied to her bed, only allowing her to be released for toilet, baths and food, always watched by Mama Sally. And that old woman had used the girl mightily to pleasure herself, forcing her old pussy into the girl’s face time and again to bring her off.

In the meantime, Knox had brought back little Molly, now 10, whom he raped repeatedly for another fortnight, until it was certain that she was going to produce another child. He always had a naked Tallie, the child’s mother, there when he raped the little girl, sucking the mother’s milk-filled titties as he pounded his shaft into the girl.

Amber, now 8, also continued to get his attention, since she always screamed and cried so nicely and he rammed home into her young pussy. She had become submissive, but he knew he hurt her badly every time he raped her.

Then, something very interesting to Master Knox Carlton happened. His brother, Newton, shot himself. He did so because he had gambled away all of his fortune, and, destitute for money, he’d taken the coward’s way out. Knox and his father had always known that Newton was a lout. His father had nearly denied him entirely, but Newton was a suave fellow, and he had managed a marriage that gave him a fortune from her side of the family. Martha, however, soon learned of her husband’s debauchery, and would have nothing to do with him. That did not stop Newton from running through all of her inherited money, and now, with him a suicide, she was destitute, with two young daughters.

Two days after learning the news of his brother’s suicide, Martha and his two nieces showed up at Knox’ door. She flung herself upon him, crying and sobbing her story. Knox let her weep herself out, holding her, but eyeing his young nieces. Andrea, the oldest, was 13, while Virginia was 11. They were not overly pretty girls, but they had lithesome bodies, and Knox felt a stirring in his groin. He developed a plan right then and there.

He told his sister-in-law that, of course, he would take her and her children in and provide for them. Then he had them settled in rooms. Martha was constantly telling him how grateful she was, and he let her feel the warmth of his compassion for her and her girls. In the meantime, he had Greta moved to Tallie’s hut, where her screams would not be heard in the main house as he raped her and felt her swelling belly.

Martha began to give him intimations of her sexual interest in him. Knox was a strong, good-looking man, obviously a catch for any woman. Martha began to scheme to get him into her bed, and he toyed with her as she played for him. He pretended to be totally unaware of her wiles, acting the noble protector. All the while, he was raping young negro girls out in the slave quarters for hours every day.

Martha, thinking she needed this man as a husband, finally threw herself at him one night. She all but stripped naked before him, showing off her slim, 30 year-old body. It was a sexy sight, Knox had to admit, and he took her that night and every night after, though fending off her talk of marriage. Finally, she told him she was pregnant and that he must marry her. He laughed at her. She raged at him that she would not bear a bastard, that he must marry her.

Knox sat behind his desk, smiled and looked at her furious eyes. “Martha, I will marry you and legitimize the bastard you so wanted in your belly, but only on certain circumstances,” he crooned.

“What circumstances,” she demanded.

“Well, first,” he went on, “you will be a dutiful wife and do what your husband, the man who is providing a wonderful life for you, so you, a penniless woman, don’t have to sell yourself in the taverns of Savannah, you must do what your husband orders.”

“I was always a good wife to your worthless brother,” she spat.

“My brother was a worthless lout,” he said in an even tone, “but to be my wife, you will have to obey me at every turn. I’m not a man to be trifled with.”

“I know a wife’s place,” she said, in a much more submissive tone, her eyes on the carpet. “I will be a good wife to you, Knox Carlton.”

Thus a local judge was brought to the plantation, and Knox and Martha were wed. There were only her two daughters and Burton, the overseer, present to witness the event. Afterward, Knox had a fine supper prepared, and his new bride and her daughters were sat to supper. After champagne had been drunk, Knox insisting the two girls partake as well, Knox announced, “Girls, did you know your mother’s pregnant with my child?”

Both girls looked quizzically to their mother. Martha scowled. “Knox, this is no time to talk of that.”

Knox went on, “And did you also know that your mother in without a penny, and that, if I turn you out, your mother will have to deliver that child on the streets of Savannah, and that she’ll have to sell you girls as common whores to survive?”

Martha went pale. “Knox, what are you saying?”

“I’m saying, my wife, that you promised to obey me in everything, were I to marry you after you shamelessly gave up your cunt to me to get me to do so,” he said, his eyes looking directly into hers.

The girls looked stunned. They had no idea what he was saying, knowing nothing about sex. Martha could barely get words out of her mouth. “Knox,” she repeated, “what are you saying?”

“I’m saying that, since your only other choice, in order to live, is to sell these girls as whores, I’ll continue to supply you a life, but they will be my little whores,” he said, in a quiet tone.

Martha was near to fainting. “Knox, no,” she whispered.

“Oh, yes, my dear, I’m quite adamant about that,” he said, a grin on his lips. “These girls are part of the deal, or I’ll throw you out to starve.”

“Knox, you can’t mean it,” she stammered, her hand to her throat, her face drained of color.

“Oh, I do quite mean it, madam,” he said, “and you’ll do whatever I say for as long as you wish to stay under my roof.”

“You wouldn’t hurt your own nieces, would you?” Martha croaked.

“Oh, yes,” he said, raising his wine glass to his lips and taking a sip. “And I’ll put bundles in their bellies the same way I’ve put one in yours and a lot of the slave girls around here.” He offered his glass to her in the manner of a toast. “You and your girls may consider yourselves my property, with no more right to refuse me than the nigger slaves.”