Noah Hamilton Slave Owner

*WARNING – PLEASE READ FIRST

This is a story set in the American South during the period of slavery. It is an accurate depiction of the period. As such, racism, racial slurs and racist attitudes are included as key elements of some characters. If you are not comfortable with the topic of slavery, racial supremacy/subordination, or even seeing the "n" word used in a demeaning way, I urge you NOT to read on. Thank you.

September 1810

The story that follows details the life of Dr. Noah Hamilton – a 26 year-old physician born into a very wealthy family outside of Philadelphia. Noah came from one of the first families to settle in the new colonies. His family was brought here as indentured servants, but had amassed great wealth – allowing Dr. Hamilton plenty of idle time.

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This story begins, not in Philadelphia with Dr. Hamilton, but several hundred miles to the south on the farm of Abe Stewart in North Carolina. If the farm were in Georgia or South Carolina, you might call it a plantation, but Stewart preferred the term farm. Stewart was a fairly wealthy man and had nearly 20 slaves working his land. He lived on the farm with his bitch of wife Caroline and has wonderful daughter Amanda. Amanda was the apple of his eye and there wasn't anything he wouldn't do for her.

It was a hot early September day and Caroline had taken their daughter into town – it would be an all-day trip and they were not likely to be back before sundown. This gave Abe Stewart a whole day to engage in his favorite past time - fucking his negro slaves. His wife did not approve and it had essentially ruined their marriage and was the reason Amanda was an only child. He didn't care. Caroline was cold and frigid, and she would never leave him because she had nowhere else to go. She had discovered his secret long ago and she hated him for it. But his slaves feared him to no end.

Abe Stewart was a runt of man – just 5 foot 5 inches with a large belly. Nobody would fear him if they weren't owned by him. He had a foreman on the farm, Frank, if it ever came to that. Abe's little man complex manifested itself in the ruthless beatings he would unleash on any of his slaves if they displeased him for any reason – or sometimes just for fun.

The young 17 year old house slave Sarah was washing dishes in the kitchen that September morning. She was desperately trying to drown out the sounds from upstairs. The other house slave, Mary, was being raped and ravaged by Abe Stewart. Sarah was trying to finish the dishes and then go outside before the screaming became too intense. Sarah was filled with fear – every day, Abe Stewart would look at her and remind her that she would soon be turning 18 – and would finally be his at last. She knew she was being kept to be a sex toy to this disgusting man.

Upstairs, Abe Stewart had his 6-inch cock buried into Mary's ass. Abe didn't care about lube, although he loved it when his niggers start to bleed. Blood makes a nice little lubricant. Mary was writhing in pain and he didn't give a shit. He was pumping in and out of her ass hard. Her face was contorted in pain and he whispered into her ear, "You like that Nigger? You're going to make me feel good today. What do you say?"

Mary was in so much pain, she couldn't respond. Abe whacked her across the face hard. "Answer me nigger! You like my cock in your ass?" Mary mumbled an unenthusiastic "yes sir." Abe started slapping her face and her tits as his cock pushed in and out of Mary's brown hole. He loved this part – humiliating the slaves. It was a sexual fetish for him, but it was also a key element of his control over them.

Abe was getting close to cumming. But he needed something extra special to push him over the edge. He grabbed one of her nipples and twisted it brutally. Mary let out a blood curdling scream which caused two things to happen simultaneously – Abe unloaded a torrent of cum into her ass because he always cums harder when his niggers scream. And Sarah flew out the back door of the kitchen with her hands over her ears.

Come the first of May, Sarah knew it would be her. She had to get away.

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Meanwhile, several hundred miles to the north, outside of Philadelphia, the young Dr. Noah Hamilton was finalizing his plans to move to North Carolina. Both of his parents had passed on, his father about four months ago and his mother several years before that. He had been courting a young woman, but had learned that she was primarily after his money. He had no interest in that. That isn't to say that the young Dr. Hamilton was a saint. He had been a visitor of the whorehouses down near the Delaware River and had taken up pleasing companionship with the wife of local merchant. But it would not last.

His uncle had moved to North Carolina several years before and told him that life was good in the south. A slower pace, many available ladies and a chance to be the gentleman farmer that Dr. Noah Hamilton had always wanted to be.

On that warm September day, Dr. Noah Hamilton was putting his affairs in order to move south in early November after the harvest.

...to be continued...