BV-132  First The Whip
[aka 'The Master's Revenge']
by Unknown


FOREWORD 

You see what I got in this box, little nigger girl? Go ahead. Look at it! 
See it? That's right, cunt. 

It's the cock and the two bloody balls that, used to belong to your man, 
your lover. But he is no more. 

That nigger boy stepped out of line and I had to cut his gonads off. Poor 
boy, he bled to death right there while I watched. 

Now, little nigger cunt, you know I like my pussy dark, with lots of gravy, 
so come here and give me some. 

From now on you are going to serve only me with that hot body of yours. You 
will serve my cock and you will serve my whip. 

Because I am the slave master, baby. 

And there ain't a goddamn thing you can do about it, precious! 


CHAPTER ONE 

The southern plantation owner, whose skin was as white as milk, sat in his 
over-stuffed easy chair in the corner of the large, plush livingroom inside 
his mansion. 

His name was Bernard Cornfield and he was one of the richest - and meanest - 
men in the whole south. He turned lazily and found himself looking at his 
Negro butler, Jones. 

Jones had his faded palm beneath a tray upon which was Bernard Cornfield's 
afternoon mint julep. A sprig of mint stuck up greenly from the top of the 
long, thin glass. 

The glass was three-quarters filled with crushed ice - just the way Bernard 
liked it. He thanked Jones kindly and the butler turned to leave. 

"Oh, Jones?" 

"Yes, master?" 

"Ain't there one of them nigger girls I bought last week left to be 
whipped?", "Yes, master. The one named Tammy Taylor. She is the youngest and 
the smallest." 

"Ah, yes. I was saving her for last purposefully," Bernard said with a sigh. 

"You want me to fetch her for you, master?" Jones asked, his thick lips 
parted. 

"That would be good, Jones, but in ten minutes, after my drink," Bernard 
said. 

"You want me to bring her straight here to you?" Jones asked politely. 

"No, Jones. Bring her down to the torture room, to save time," Bernard said. 

"Yes, master," Jones said. The Negro turned and left the livingroom. Bernard 
sipped his drink and felt the ache growing in his balls. 

If his wife - Annabelle - ever found out that he was messing with the nigger 
poontang there would be hell to pay. Only the slaves knew - and they were 
under strict orders never to mention Bernard's sexual activities to the lady 
of the house. 

Annabelle - luckily for Bernard - was always off riding her horses or 
shopping in the nearest Georgia town, which happened to be called Stocking 
Post. 

Bernard finished his drink, looking out the window at his massive 
plantation. The Georgia red clay had been worked and fertilized by the 
slaves until it yielded crops that would have been unheard of twenty-five 
years before. It was the nineteenth century, and agriculture was vastly 
improving. Each year Bernard managed to make a little more money than the 
year before. That meant he could buy more slaves - and not just the black 
bucks who put their sweat into the farm, but the succulent nigger cunts as 
well, which Bernard loved to torture and fuck just about more than anything 
else in the world. 

Bernard had a boner inside his pants by the time he finished his drink. He 
set the glass down and meandered toward the front room where the door that 
led down to the basement was. 

He quickly went down the rickety stairs into his private torture chamber. He 
never had to worry about Annabelle discovering his torture chamber. His wife 
would not have been caught dead in the basement of the mansion. It was dark 
down there and she might get her dress dirty. 

Bernard lit the lamps along the walls as he went down. He was surprised that 
he arrived in the basement before Jones with the little nigger cunt. 

When Jones did bring down the girl, Bernard could see right away that the 
petite pussy was all upset. Her eyes were red and swollen and her face was 
stained with tears. Little Tammy Taylor knew that she was about to be 
whipped - because she had been saved for last - and she had never been so 
scared shitless in her entire life. 

"This is Tammy," Jones said. "Master Cornfield." 

"Pleased to meet you, master," Tammy said weakly. 

"You can go now, Jones," Bernard said sternly. 

"Yes, master," Jones said, and headed back up the stairs. 

The little black girl was wearing a burlap dress that was hemmed well above 
her knees. She was the littlest and the cutest of the new slaves Bernard had 
recently acquired. 

"Tammy, you are a beautiful little girl," Bernard said. He licked and 
smacked his lips obscenely. Tammy could feel a million butterflies flopping 
around inside her tummy - just as if they all wanted to get the hell out of 
there. 

The little slave could feel her heart pounding as it had never pounded 
before. Her ticker felt like it wanted to beat its way right out of her 
chest. 

The diminutive nigger cunt could feel the icy sweat of her terror oozing 
from each and every pore in her body. The scent of her funk wafted up toward 
her hot nostrils - which were remarkably closed for a girl of her race. 
Bernard looked at her beautiful face and her golden brown skin and he could 
tell that -genetically speaking - there was a little cream in her coffee 
somewhere along the line. "She had a little human in her," as Bernard was 
fond of saying. 

"How old are you, Tammy?" 

"I don't know, master." 

"I'll bet you ain't even sixteen," Bernard said. 

The girl shivered and was silent. "You ever been whipped before?" 

"No, master." 

"How come?" 

"Where I was before, the slaves was only whipped when they disobeyed. I 
always obeyed." 

"Things are different here. There been too many revolts in this county, 
niggers getting shot on account of they got uppity and tried to make a run 
for it. I like my niggers to know who's the boss right from the start. 
Everyone gets a whipping. You are so beautiful I may want to whip you once a 
week. We'll have to see. Your skin is so beautiful. It will be even more 
beautiful after it has been marked by my whip. 

Tammy could see in the indirect illumination in that torture chamber, that 
there were many whips on display on the far wall. The walls were made of 
stone. 

There were no windows. 

She could see that the center of the room dominated by a large slab table. 
There ware chains and cuffs at the four corners of the table. She knew those 
were there so that little girls - such as herself - could be bound in a 
spread-eagled fashion. 

Tammy could see that there were human skulls dangling from the ceiling of 
that dark and creepy ceiling. 

She could tell they were real. 

There was other torture equipment on a long table that ran the entire length 
of the wall furthest from the entrance - equipment that the little nigger 
cunt could not immediately identify. 

"You ever been with a man?" 

"Pardon me, master?" 

"You ever been fucked?" 

"Yes, master." 

"I suppose your last master popped your cherry." 

"No, master. I got me a man." 

"Who?" 

"His name be Jonah." 

"Oh, yes. He's been fucking you? Good. I hope he knocks you up and you make 
babies like a bunny. I could use a little return on some of my cunt 
investment. Seems like I should get more out of the deal than a sore cock." 

"Yes, master," Tammy said - even though she was not entirely sure what he 
was talking about. 

"I remember Jonah. The big buck I bought at the same time I got you. The one 
with the good teeth. I like good teeth in the mouth of my slaves. It looks 
good when I have company over." 

"Yes, Master." 

"That's something I should tell you know, because you are going to have to 
know sooner or later. I throw a lot of parties and there are a lot of male 
guests. You will be doing domestic chores during these parties, serving food 
and drinks. But that's not all. Remember, when I have company, you must obey 
all of the guests just as you would obey me." 

"Yes, master." 

"If one of them, or three of them for that matter, men I mean, want to take 
you down here and whip you and fuck you, then that is their right. If you 
disobey I'll just have to cut off old Jonah's gonads - and then he won't be 
no good to your cunt no more." 

"Please don't do that, master." 

"Then you understand the rules?" 

Tammy nodded. 

"Good, now get out of that rag dress so's I can see what you got," Bernard 
said. He could feel the hot blood of his masculine arousal pumping into both 
the head and the shaft of his cock. 

Bernard Cornfield could tell that his cock was getting a little bit longer, 
a little bit thicker, and a little bit harder with each beat of his hard. 

The white master could feel the ache in his balls getting worse rapidly too. 
His testicles felt as if they had swollen to twice their normal size by that 
time. 

His dick felt like it was going to come bursting right out of the crotch of 
his increasingly tight trousers. 

He could feel his thick jism swimming around his swollen glands of manhood 
inside his scrotal sack impatiently. 

The little girl lifted her dress up over her head. Her head got caught 
inside for a moment but then tugged free. She was barefoot and naked beneath 
her burlap dress. She stood before her brand new master every bit as naked 
as the day she was born. 

"Precious. Very precious," Bernard Cornfield said. He liked his nigger 
poontang on the diminutive side - and Tammy sure did fit the bill. She 
looked even younger than she was - and that was just fine with the white 
man. His motto had always been the younger the better when it came to nigger 
poontang. 

He could see that Tammy Taylor stood only an inch or two over five feet tall 
- and there was no way she weighed more than ninety-five or a hundred 
pounds. 

She had her kinky hair braided and held in place with many little pink bows. 
Her face was round and very cute. She had features that looked as if they 
should have been painted on the face of a Negro doll. 

Her skin was very smooth. She had a perfect complexion. It was clear to 
anyone who looked at Tammy that she had never suffered from a facial 
blemish. 

Her eyebrows and her eyelashes were just as black as the hair on her head. 
In spite of the fact that she had never plucked them, her eyebrows grew 
slenderly, and femininely angular. 

Her eyelashes were very long and curled upward at their tips. They were 
longer than the lashes of any of the white women Bernard knew - and the 
white women wore mascara to lengthen and thicken their lashes. The slaves, 
the female slaves, were not allowed such vanities - of course. 

Her eyelashes were so long that they licked lightly at Tammy Taylor's high 
cheekbones each and every time she blinked. Her nose was remarkably slender 
- almost pointy at the tip - but she had the thick sensuous lips of her 
race. 

In spite of her diminutive stature - Tammy had extraordinarily large 
breasts. Her tits were not only big, but they were perfectly shaped. The man 
could feel his mouth watering when he got his first look at her tits. He had 
seen them at the auction when he bought her - but he had forgotten just how 
delicious they were. 

Her tits were firm and full with youth. 

Her breasts were both pert and perky. 

They rested very high on Tammy's chest. 

Her nipples pointed slightly upward. 

Tammy's tits were rounded at their bottom and sloped at their tops. They 
curved back toward her armpits, making her waist look almost painfully thin. 
She did have a slender waist. Indeed, it only measured twenty-two inches. 

Her nipples were the color of chocolate. Her pupils were actually dark brown 
- but they looked just as ebony as her hair in the limited illumination in 
Bernard Cornfield's creepy torture chamber. 

Her hips were rounded both at the sides and the rear. Her ass cheeks were 
every bit as smooth as when she was a baby. Her thighs were smooth also and 
tapered gracefully and perfectly from her round hips to her unscarred knees. 
Her legs were not long but they were shaped the way a woman's legs are 
supposed to be shaped. Her calves were rounded but not overly muscles. Her 
ankles were trim and her feet were dainty. The master could not help but 
notice that the little girl's toes were chubby and cute. Her toes, which 
were wiggling against the bare wood floor, were all very close to the same 
length, including her two big toes. 

He could see that the diminutive slave had very little pubic hair. Most of 
the nigger wenches had shaggy kinky hair all over their mounds, along the 
sides of their pussies, in between the cheeks of their ass, and even 
sometimes sprawling out unattractively onto the insides of their thighs. 

But Tammy had none of this. 

She simply had two curls of black hair which grew above and to the sides of 
her clitoral foreskin, at the very face of her sloping mound. 

Less than a third of the little girl's mound was covered with hair - and the 
hair that did exist, Bernard Cornfield could tell - was downy soft. 

Judging from the little girl's mound, the white master correctly assumed 
that she was completely bald along the outermost edges of her vulva. He 
correctly assumed that she was equally hairless in the cleavage between her 
delicious round and brown ass cheeks. 

"Now I want you to get upon that table and stretch out," he said. 

It was clear from the tone in the man's deep baritone voice that he was not 
then - nor would he ever be - in the mood to take no for an answer. 

He was not making a request. 

He was giving a command. 

"On my belly or my back, master?" Tammy inquired. 

"On your belly. First the whip," he said with a laugh. 

"Please have mercy on me, master." 

"You are a little fool. Mercy! Ha! I don't even know the meaning of the 
word," the man said. He laughed an intrinsically sadistic laugh, throwing 
back his head. 

Tammy trembled worse than before. 

She could feel the muscles in her shapely gam's getting weaker by the 
second. The muscles in her legs felt as if they had been turned to gelatin. 

Her knees were shaking. 

Tammy Taylor was not at all sure how much longer her legs were going to be 
able to support the weight of her body - all ninety-seven pounds of her. 
Such was the toll her terror was taking on her diminutive black body. She 
was wet and slick with sweat. The man could smell her funk. There were many 
white men who didn't mess around with the nigger poontang on account of they 
found the scent too strong. Bernard was just the opposite. 

There were few things in the world the white master liked better than the 
smell of nigger cunt. He loved the way it burned his nostrils and his 
sinuses a little. The scent of a slave pussy always intoxicated him. He 
liked his cunts dark, with lots of gravy!!! 

The little girl managed to get over to the wooden slab torture table before 
her shapely legs gave out on her. 

She stretched herself out on her belly - just as she had been instructed. 
The man wasted no time getting the torture session started. He was still 
chuckling a little to himself when he grabbed her slender left wrist with 
his huge right paw. 

Bernard Cornfield pulled the little girl's arm up over her head toward the 
steel cuff at that corner of the table. She rested her right cheekbone 
against the hard wood. She could feel her tits being pressed flat against 
the torture table. Her nipples were erect and hard and throbbing with her 
fear. 

He pulled the little girl's arm so hard that there was a frightening moment 
or two when Tammy thought he was going to break that wing. 

She feared he would break it either at the wrist or the elbow. Indeed, he 
pulled until her was locked in the straight position. 

Tammy's eyes were very expressive. They twinkled with merriment when she was 
with Jonah - yet they could look dull and somber when she was with a white 
man. 

Here eyes welled with tears and then overflowed. Her salty rivulets of 
despair and terror ran down the sides of her face and dripped onto the 
table. 

Some of the little tears made it all the way to the corners of her trembling 
lips - and then onto her slightly thickened tongue. 

Her tears tasted terrible. 

Bitter. 

It was as if that saltwater had been tainted and made poisonous by the acute 
fear the girl was experiencing. 

She knew that her master's whip was going to hurt worse than anything she 
had ever known before. 

She knew that her master's whip was going to hurt more than anything she 
could possibly have imagined. 

The man clamped the steel cuff around the little girl's wrist, tighter than 
it was supposed to be. She winced and let out a squeak of pain. 

Tammy learned at the last second that the insides of those cuffs were 
sharply toothed, so that they bit into her wrist flesh causing great agony. 

She could tell that the cuff was leaving an ugly ring around her wrist - a 
ring that would remain long after the cuff had been removed. 

The sharp teeth on the insides of that cuff were breaking the skin in a 
couples of laces - making the nigger cunt bleed a little bit. 

Bernard liked drawing blood. 

He liked the smell of blood. 

He liked the taste of blood! 

The cuff was so tight around the little girl's wrist that it completely 
cutoff the circulation of blood to her entire left hand. Her fingertips 
bulged and changed color, becoming a much darker shade of brown. 

Her fingertips were filled temporarily with pins and needles. She could tell 
that it couldn't be long before the tips of the digits on that hand were 
completely numb, the feeling sucked away by her master's bondage. 

Tammy tried to wiggle her fingers at the knuckles - and she found to her 
horror that she could only do this with an ever-increasing amount of 
difficulty. 

Tammy knew that her fingers would soon be rendered immobile by the steel 
restraints Bernard Cornfield was administering at that moment. 

Seconds after the man clamped the first cuff in place her circled all the 
way around the table - moving with amazing brace and coordination for a man 
his size. 

He moved like a cat. 

He was a wild jungle beast. 

He moved about the torture table as if he were encircling his helpless prey. 
His cock was thoroughly engorged with the hot blood of his masculine 
arousal, making a huge bulge in the crotch of his tight trousers. 

He repeated the process with the other arm and soon Tammy could not feel 
anything more in her right hand then she could in her left. She could not 
wiggle the fingers on either hand any longer. He then moved to the foot of 
the wooden torture table. 

Bernard Cornfield grabbed both of the little girl's trim ankles at the same 
time, one in either hand. 

He imagined himself making a wish over a wishbone - and then pulled her legs 
apart with a single outward sweep of both of his strong arms. 

He opened her up. 

Tammy could feel her thighs parting to a perfect ninety-degree angle - and 
then further. He separated her legs o an obtuse angle. Her feet were 
pointing toward the corners of the wooden slab at the foot, where the other 
two steel cuffs were waiting. The balls and sole of her feet - like Tammy's 
calloused palms - were much lighter than the rest of her body. Friction wore 
the color right off, Bernard figured. 

The little girl could feel the lips of her teenaged pussy and the cheeks of 
her baby soft ass parting along with her shapely legs. He clamped the cuffs 
on her ankles - again drawing blood on spots. 

Her toes became numb. 

She was bound stringently. 

Both her elbows and her knees were locked in the straight position. She had 
been chained to the torture table so that she could not move a muscle. 

Tammy found that the only part of her body that could move was her head. If 
she strained she could lift her head from the table a few inches. She could 
even turn her face from side to side a little bit. But the little girl 
quickly discovered that this took so much energy that it was not worth it. 

The man then crossed the large torture chamber to the wall where his many 
whips were displayed. He had whips of four and five lashes. The leather 
lashes also had varying knots tied in them. Some of the lashes had been 
soaked in a special brine solution so that they would mark the skin upon 
impact. 

Tammy knew her ass cheeks would never look the same. From that point on - 
for the rest of her useless life - her ass would bear the marks of Bernard 
Cornfield's whip. She tried to preserve her dignity. She said a silent 
prayer. 

She did not want to grovel. She did not want to shame herself by crying out 
with the pain. She prepared to bite her fleshy bottom lip in an attempt to 
stifle her inevitable exclamations of agony. 

The man chose his most vicious whip. 

It had a leather handle molded to fit Bernard's hand. 

The whip was of the five-lash variety and soaked in brine. He knew that this 
whip -when used properly - caused more pain than any of his others. 

He wasted no time. 

Once he had the whip in his palm he moved to the side of the torture table. 
He could see the girl's muscles jerking with her dread. He gripped the 
handle of the whip so hard that each and every one of his knuckles turned 
even whiter than they were already. He was right-handed. 

Bernard raised his right arm high over his head at that point. 

He then brought the whip down as hard as he could and jerked upward with his 
strong wrist at the last second to crack the lashes. 

CRACK! 

Tammy heard the loud sound of the whip on her flesh a fraction of a second 
before she felt the pain. The time lag was the same she had noticed after 
stubbing her toe. It took a long second for the pain to make its way through 
her terrified nervous-system to her already reeling brain. 

The sound of the whip alone was enough to make the girl wince. The whip 
sounded like a shotgun blast as it cracked off both of her ass cheeks at the 
same time. 

Then she did feel the pain. 

It didn't take long for Tammy Taylor to realize that all efforts on her part 
to stifle her cries of agony were to be in total vain. 

Her efforts were futile. 

"AAAARRRRGGGGHHHH!!!!" the nigger cunt screamed. 

She could feel each and every nerve-ending in her body being affected by her 
pain - a pain that was, indeed, more intense than any discomfort the 
diminutive slave had previously known. 

CRACK! 

She jerked violently once again. The pain from the first blow had only just 
begun to fade when it was renewed to its agonizing fullest. 

She screamed again - but this time the exclamation was not as loud, nor as 
long. She was already becoming exhausted. She involuntarily tried to twist 
her arms and legs to get her ankles and wrists free - even though she knew 
in her conscious mind that there was no way she could wriggle herself free 
in a million years. She found that her struggling only made the teeth on the 
insides of all four cuffs bite into her flesh that much deeper. 

CRACK! 

Her eyes were so swollen from her weeping by this time that she found she 
was having an ever-increasing amount of difficulty blinking. 

The insides of her eyelids suddenly felt as if they were made of a 
particular rough kind of emery board. She felt all cried out, she sobbed but 
no tears came. 

CRACK! 

This time the man sensed that the nerve-endings in her ass were becoming 
numb, so he whipped the back of her left thigh instead, so that the horrible 
pain would be as fresh as ever. She felt close to passing out. 

The entire room was spinning. She prayed that she could lose consciousness 
and find the blessed peace of sleep. She could not feel pain in her mind 
unless it was awake. She stayed awake through the entire whipping however. 
She was merely moaning, and gurgling in her throat, at the end. She was 
completely exhausted. She felt as if she would not be able to get off the 
table, even if the cuffs were removed. Every muscle in her body was aching. 

 CHAPTER TWO 

"Was it bad, honey?" Jonah asked Tammy as she staggered into their shack. 
She almost collapsed and he caught her in his strong, strong black arms. 

"I tried to be brave," she said. She began to cry big tears once again, her 
face pressed against the side of Jonah's thick, sinewy neck. 

"I know you did, honey. I know you did," he said. He accidentally touched a 
spot where the whip had found its mark and she jerked away from him. 

"I'm gonna have to wash you, Tammy. It's gonna hurt, but you'll feel better 
after. Now, can you put your arms over your head. Good girl. Let's get this 
dress off you," Jonah said. 

The dress, which had bloodstains on it, was removed. Jonah felt a little 
sick to his stomach when he saw what had happened to his woman. 

She was striped with welts. He had her stretch on the bed on her belly and 
heated water over a fire. He washed her with soap and water and she 
whimpered bravely throughout the procedure, biting her forearm. 

When he was done he patted her dry and sat down on the bed to caress her 
precious little face. They didn't need to say anything. They only had to 
look at one another. 

They loved each other very much. 

"Baby, you are so good to me," Tammy said. "I want to show you how much I 
love you." 

"You might be a little sore for fucking, Tammy," Jonah said. "I can skip a 
day. I be old enough to control my manly urges," 

"I know, but you shouldn't have to. I be your woman now, Jonah - and I aim 
to keep you satisfied!!!" 

"I must be the luckiest man on the face of the earth," he said. 

"Huh! Look at you! A slave, the luckiest man in the world," she said. 

"Because I got you, baby," he said. He kissed her mouth gently. Her lips 
were dry, but they responded to him. Her lips seem to moisten with his 
mouth's caress. Her mouth became a living thing, with a mind of its own. 

"I want to suck you off, Jonah," she said in a whisper. 

"You don't have to. I tell you I can w-" Jonah started to say. Tammy stopped 
him by placing a gentle forefinger across his lips. She got up slowly and 
knelt before him. 

"I don't feel like a woman, Jonah, unless I pleasure my man - and I need to 
feel like a woman real bad right now," Tammy said, her voice cracking. 

"Go ahead baby. You an angel!" Jonah said. He was already naked from the 
waist up, his coal black skin slick and shiny from the sweat of the summer 
heat. The humidity was near saturation. Everything was sticky and everything 
dripped. Including the diminutive black girl's pussy. 

Tammy reached up with trembling fingers and undid the rope belt that held 
Jonah's loose cloth trousers up. He could feel himself getting a mighty 
black boner! 

Jonah was a lot larger that Tammy - and those around them often wondered how 
she handled such a large man. Jonah was well over ,six feet. 

He weighed more than twice what she did. He was a horse. A black stallion 
stud. He had a handsome face and the body of an Adonis. He had been created 
by God to let the rest of the world know what physical perfection was. 
Bernard Cornfield had paid a pretty penny for Jonah. Needless to say, Jonah 
was the Cornfield Estate's most productive worker six days a week. 

Jonah's shoulders were extraordinarily broad and his entire upper torso had 
great girth. He had thick slabs of muscle across his shoulders, leading up 
the back of his neck, across his chest and between his amazingly broad 
shoulder blades. 

In spite of the massive girth of Jonah's upper torso, he had a slender waist 
and trim hips. There was a great ratio between the measurements of his chest 
and waist. 

There, were times when Tammy could not look at her man - especially when he 
was buck naked - without thinking that he was built especially by God for 
fucking. 

For fucking her. 

He had very thick thighs. They agreed that one of his thighs was the same 
size, or a little bigger, than Tammy's waist. He had very long legs. 

His hands and his feet were extraordinarily large - as was another 
all-important part of his masculine anatomy. Tammy pulled down his trousers 
and his stiff cock popped out. 

She smiled with glee as she looked at that ebony monster bobbing up and down 
in front of her large eyes. The tip of his cock came very close to touching 
the tip of her nose. 

Jonah's cock was a good nine and three-quarters inches long - but it had 
never been the length of Jonah's cock that impressed Tammy so much. 

It was the thickness of that pole that really shook her up. She could see 
that his cock was as thick as her wrist - maybe a little thicker. 

She could see that Jonah's black prick was thickest at the head. His cock 
looked like a baby's arm - a baby's arm holding an apple in its tiny fist. 

The head of Jonah's cock pushed well out from under its foreskin when his 
tool of manhood was thoroughly engorged with the blood of his horniness. 

She thought that the head of her man's tool was shaped like a grossly 
overgrown acorn - the kind from which mighty oak trees grow!!! 

She knew that she would have to open her mouth as far as she possibly could 
to suck him. Obviously, she had been through this routine before. 

She could see that the skin covering the head of Jonah's dick was stretched 
smooth and almost frightening thin. The glans looked as if it would explode 
if another drop of blood tried to pump its way inside. 

That skin was very smooth - the smoothest thing Tammy had ever touched. The 
shaft of his cock was only slightly skinnier than the head. But it was just 
as hard - as hard as granite. 

The tip of his cock was snapping upward toward his flat belly as Jonah 
stepped out of his trousers one foot at a time. His cock was bobbing up and 
down as if it were attached to his loins via a tightly sprung hinge. 

As the tip of his dick snapped upward Tammy found herself looking at the 
underside of Jonah's cock, where many veins were protruding from the 
surface. 

Those veins ran up and down the entire length of the man's cock and gave it 
a craggy look. His dick look gnarled and angry. She felt as if there were 
part of this man that was part animal - just like the white men claimed. He 
could really turn into a beast when his libido was acting up, she knew that 
much for sure. 

She found herself looking at the little hole at the tip of his dick - the 
hole where his piss and come came out. The mouth that had little lips on 
either side of it. That mouth was opening and closing rhythmically from the 
spasms Jonah was experiencing down there ax that moment. 

The mouth looked as if it were trying in vain to sing. 

"Oh, baby, you know how you make me feel," he said. 

"I know I make you awfully big. I hope you fit in my mouth." 

"I will - if you want me to enough," he replied quickly. 

"Oh, I do. I do," she said. She lowered her eyes to his nuts. 

Jonah's balls - like his cock, were the largest she had ever seen. They were 
the size of horse balls. His sack was so large that there was no way the 
little girl could hold the entire thing in the palm of her cupped hand at 
one time - no matter, how far apart she stretched her dainty fingers. 

By the same token, the little girl could not get her fingers all the way 
around the shaft of his cock when she tried to make a fist about the girth 
of his manhood. 

She could see that the man's scrotal sack was filled to the brim with his 
hot sticky silver seed. His scrotum looked filled to the brim with his 
juices. The little girl could feel Bernard Cornfield's come dribbling from 
her bruised cunt. He had fucked her when she was dry and the inside of her 
pussy was going to feel pretty ravaged for a while. Jonah had not been 
referring to the welts on her rear when he said she was probably too sore to 
fuck. 

His scrotum was so full of come that Tammy would have thought it had been a 
month since he last shot his wad - if she didn't know better for a fact. 

His balls were very swollen and they rested heavy at the base of the 
wrinkled bag. He had kinky little black hairs growing all around the base of 
Ms cock, but the rest of his body was hairless, except for his head and his 
beard. He had no hair at all on his chest or belly, and his legs and balls 
were devoid of hair. With his body slick from perspiration as if was just 
then, he looked like a statue made of black marble. 

His cock was going to get in Tammy's way during the initial stages of her 
oral pleasuring, so she moved it. 

The little girl placed her fingers on the underside of the man's cock shaft 
and pushed the tip upward. 

Tammy didn't stop pushing until his bulbous glans was pinned against his 
rock hard belly. His stomach was criss-crossed with muscles. 

She loved the way the craggy underside of his cock felt against the 
sensitized tips of her digits. 

The little girl then lowered her head low and began to kiss at the insides 
of his super-thick thighs. She started down by his knees and worked her way 
slowly upward toward his aroused genitalia. 

The little girl parted her fleshy lips and allowed her pink tongue to flick 
out of her mouth. She licked at his tight black skin on his thighs. 

The little girl used her smallish teeth to nip with little love bites at 
spots that looked particularly sensitive. She got very close to his balls. 
She tilted her hot precious kisser upwards. Her tingling lips were less than 
an inch from his swollen nuts. He could feel her hot moist breath on his 
balls. She parted her lips further. She drew back a bit and stuck out her 
tongue as far as she could possibly get. She concentrated on making her 
tongue pointy at the tip. 

She began to flick the tip of her tongue back and forth lightly and quickly. 
The man let out a deep moan of pleasure - an, exclamation of joy that seemed 
to bubble up all the way from his belly. 

Jonah stood on the earth floor of the shack they shared with his huge feet a 
little more than shoulder width apart - and that was saying something 
considering how broad his shoulders were. 

He stood with his strong chin tilted upward proudly. His face showed 
masculine sternness and affection at the same time. He stood with his 
shoulders back. 

His chest was puffed out. 

His stomach was sucked in. 

His knees were slightly bent. 

His back was slightly arched. 

She started out licking his balls rather tentatively - but the laving of her 
pink tongue quickly gained eagerness and enthusiasm. She got a taste for it 
and she couldn't stop. 

Tammy began to lick her man's swollen testicles with the flat part of her 
tongue. She lifted and lowered his balls with her tongue gently. 

Tammy was always very gentle when she dealt with her man's nuts. She knew 
how easily and severely they could be harmed if she treated them too 
roughly. 

She licked at his scrotal sack until the entire thing was soaking wet from 
the saliva that dribbled from her tongue. Tammy found that her salivary 
gland was working overtime as she went down on Jonah. 

Her mouth was watering. 

Tammy found that she had to swallow more frequently than usual to keep from 
drooling fluid onto her tiny chin. She pulled her tongue away from his 
scrotum and puckered her lips so she could kiss his left nut noisily. 

She blew cool air onto his hot balls and this made him shiver violently - as 
if he were trying to shudder himself right out of his ebony skin. 

The man could feel his entire body becoming covered with a thick layer of 
bumpy gooseflesh. The goose pimples seemed to be clustered most densely 
beneath his arms. 

"The head of my cock feels ready to explode." 

"You gotta way of making it sound so painful." 

"Baby, you know that feels good." 

"You like the action?" 

"I love the action, Tammy." 

"You want me to suck your balls." 

"Yeah, sounds good," Jonah said. 

The huge black man was having increasing difficulty keeping his lower torso 
still. He found that his hips were gyrating. He was moving his tight little 
ass in slow circles. 

Jonah found that his muscles were tensing up on him involuntarily - 
especially the muscles in his buttocks. 

Tammy knew that she had to make her mouth cottony soft when she sucked her 
man's nuts. She curled her lips over her teeth so that she would not risk 
inadvertently hurting him. The last thing the little girl wanted to do was 
cause her man the slightest bit of discomfort. 

She wrapped her lips around his left testicle and she began to suck. She 
didn't suck as hard as she could - but, rather, with a controlled vacuum 
inside, her hot wet oral cavity. 

She hollowed her cheeks only slightly. She sucked with just the right 
pressure. 

Jonah began to moan and groan loudly. He could feel the temperature of his 
semen rising within him. His jism felt as if it were rapidly approaching the 
boiling point. 

She began to flick with her tongue again. She sucked and licked at his nut 
for a long time before pulling away and repeating the process with the 
gland's twin. 

She straightened her back. Jonah was now standing with his backbone arched 
even more than before - so that his loins, and therefore his genitalia, were 
out in front of the rest of his body. 

She turned her light left palm upward with the fingers slightly curled. She 
placed her fingertips at the base of his huge scrotal sack. 

Tammy wiggled the tips of her digits. She fondled her man's nuts in this 
fashion. He was moving the lower half of his fantastic torso with a greater 
fervor than before. 

Jonah could feel his respiratory system becoming affected by his sexual 
arousal. His breaths were getting steadily faster and closer together. Each 
breath seemed to be a little shorter than the one before it. He realized 
that he was panting like an animal. At that moment the man wanted to be an 
animal. He knew that his panting was going to get worse before it got 
better. He could feel his heart pounding. The little girl placed her palm 
under the man's scrotum and opened her fingers as far apart as she could 
possibly get them. She tried again and again in vain to clutch his entire 
scrotal sack at once. Some of the bag fell over the sides of her hand no 
matter how much she stretched her little palm. She held as much of the sack 
at once as she could and she began to squeeze at it. She squeezed in sync 
with her man's heartbeat - and in this manner she simulated the natural 
throbbing he felt in his nuts at that sexy moment. 

She forgot about the pain in her rear for a moment - and she forgot about 
the ravaged' tissues inside her cunt that were troubling her earlier. 

Tammy had successfully thrust all of her personal discomfort into the back 
of her head - and she was concentrating her attentions exclusively on the 
pleasure she was giving handsome Jonah. 

She knew it was time to pleasure his humongous cock with that wet pink 
tongue of hers. She parted her lips and stuck that taster out. She placed 
the pointy tip of her tongue at the base of the man's cock, on the underside 
- right where his dick and his balls came together. 

At that moment Jonah could feel a tickle of sexual anxiety forming right at 
that spot. He knew that tickle could do nothing but increase in intensity as 
long as his little girl was going down on his rod. 

He knew that the tickle would grow until it was no longer a tickle at all - 
but rather a comet-like ball of liquid sexual anxiety. 

He knew that the sensation at the base of his cock would mount until his 
horniness reached the point of no return. Until his arousal reached the 
saturation point. Until his orgasm reached the point of inevitability. 

She found herself looking at the underside of his cock shaft, looking past 
her nose, crossing her dark brown eyes a little bit. Jonah couldn't help but 
notice that little Tammy's eyes still looked on the red and puffy side from 
all of the weeping she had been doing. She looked at the craggy veins on his 
cock's stem. She was still pinning the tip of his prick to a spot well above 
his concave bellybutton with the fingertips on her right hand. She thought 
those veins on the underside of his dick looked like lines on a map, like 
rivers. She had only seen a map once but she remembered it. The driver had 
showed it to her while she was being delivered to the Cornfield Estate. She 
decided to allow the longest thickest vein, the vein that coursed almost the 
entire length of his cock - determine her tongue's route. She began to flick 
back and forth lightly and quickly with the pointy tip of her pink wet 
tongue. She moved a fraction of an inch at a time toward the head of his 
dick. She paused at a spot just below the head where Tammy knew from 
experience her man was particularly hypersensitive. She allowed her flicking 
tongue tip to linger at that spot and his moans and groans of pleasure 
immediately got a great deal louder and a little higher in pitch. More of 
his muscles were stiffening. His back teeth were clenched together so 
tightly that the muscles at the sides of his face were beginning to 
protrude. His jaw ached a bit - but he didn't let that bother him. The 
slight discomfort in his lower face was next to nothing compared to the 
pleasure he was feeling down below. He had his eyes closed tightly. His 
thick lips were stretching back over her pearly white and perfectly straight 
teeth - so much so that his facial expression looked like a contorted cross 
between a smile and a grimace. He was bucking with his hips, as if he were 
pretending his cock were already in the little girl's mouth. 

She ran her tongue up the split on the underside of the man's glans. This 
split, Tammy thought, made her man's dick head look like a ripe plum! 

She licked all the way to the tip of his cock. She loosened the pressure on 
the underside of his dick with her fingertips. She allowed his cock head to 
come away from his belly about an inch, far enough for her to get at the 
entire crown with her eager tongue. She flicked the tip of her taster back 
and forth across his opening and closing piss hole and then rolled the sides 
of her tongue all around the glans, not stopping until the head of his ebony 
pole was covered with a layer of her saliva. She still thought that skin was 
marvelously smooth as she caressed it with her erect and sexually aroused 
taste buds. 

She licked up and down the shaft of his cock with the flat part of her 
tongue - lapping as a mare might lap at a stall-side cake of salt. 

She then removed her fingers from the underside of his dick's stalk while 
squeezing his nuts a little harder than before. 

She squeezed his balls firmly but still nowhere near hard enough to risk 
hurting her handsome lover. 

She tried to make a fist all the way around the shaft of his prick, but her 
fingertips ended up a good half inch away from the heel of her palm. She 
squeezed his dick shaft. 

She lowered the man's cock head to her mouth and stared at the wet tip. She 
could see something oozing from his urethra. Jonah was priming the pump. 

She concentrated on relaxing the muscles at the sides of her face. She 
concentrated on breathing exclusively through her nostrils. 

This would soon be a necessity. 

Soon her mouth would be full. 

Tammy made little snorting noise as she sucked air deep into her sinuses and 
then into her lungs. She could smell the scent of his manhood wafting toward 
her flaring nostrils from his cock and balls. 

She dropped her jaw. 

Tammy opened her mouth as far as she could so that her jaw threatened to 
lock in that position. 

The skin at the corners of her mouth was stretched taut. She pushed forward 
with her head and shoulders. She took his cock head in her mouth. Once again 
she had her lips curled over her white teeth so that she would not risk 
biting him by accident. She locked her lips around the lower rim of Jonah's 
bulbous glans. 

She began to pump her fist up and down his shaft - and the muscular black 
man could feel his horniness mounting in leaps and bounds. 

There was nothing subtle about the way Tammy sucked her man's cock. She 
sucked as hard as she possibly could. 

She created an intense vacuum inside her oral cavity. She hollowed her 
smooth cheeks deeply as she sucked. 

The man could feel all of his muscles tensing. He tossed his head back so 
that his face was turned toward the ceiling of the shack they shared. In the 
distance Tammy could hear the buzzing of a single fly - but she could hear 
nothing else. Jonah stopped moaning because he stopped breathing. He filled 
his chest with fresh air and held it in. He knew that he was not going to be 
able to breathe during his come anyway. He shivered and the little girl 
could feel a little extra blood pumping into the head of his cock - forcing 
her jaw to open even further than before. 

She knew the end was near. 

Jonah howled like a beast. She could feel the head of his cock spasming 
against her gaping lips, her tongue and the insides of her hollowed cheeks. 

Tammy could feel the shaft of Jonah's cock convulsing against her palm and 
the insides of her curled fingers. 

Then his piss hole opened. His come spewed out. There was a huge squirt of 
sticky come into the little girl's mouth at that point and she knew that she 
was going to have trouble keeping it all inside her mouth. 

She puffed out her cheeks. 

She began to swallow as hard as she possibly could right away - but her 
efforts were futile. There was too much come and her mouth was too little. 

She couldn't hold it all inside. 

Tammy could feel the semen oozing from the stretched-back corners of her 
mouth. The jism rolled slowly down onto her chin where it cooled and 
coagulated. 

Some of his come even plopped onto the inside of Tammy's black left wrist. 
She was still clutching his balls. She managed to get most of his come down 
her throat. 

The come was hot and she had to wait for it to cool for a second or two 
before she could taste it properly. 

But the wait was worth it. 

She was not disappointed. 

She loved the flavor of the man's come better than any other flavor she had 
ever experienced on her tongue. 

She knew that the come was good for her to drink - because she could feel 
herself getting healthier as she swallowed it. 

Tammy loved the texture of the man's come just as much as the flavor. It was 
like raw egg whites. 

She liked the way Jonah's jism felt as it slithered the entire length of her 
gullet down to her belly. 

Tammy could feel a warm spot of contentment form at the pit of her tummy 
where the come clustered. 

His come reminded her of the salted fish she was forced to eat. Only it 
wasn't as salty and the taste was much milder. 

She was determined to keep sucking her man until his obviously intense 
orgasm was complete. 

Jonah began to scream. 

"TAMMY! TAMMY! TAMMY! YOU ARE MAKING ME COME! BABY! HONEY! YOU ARE MAKING ME 
COME SO HARD! YOU ARE MAKING ME COME SO FUCKING HARD! YOU ARE SUCKING ALE 
THE COME OUT OF ME! MY BALES ARE DRYING UP! OH IT HURTS SO GOOD THE WAY YOU 
DRY UP MY NUTS WITH THAT SUCKING MOUTH OF YOURS! GIVE IT TO ME! DO ME! SUCK 
IT UP! SWALLOW IT DOWN! MORE! TAKE IT ALL! ARGH! I CANT STOP COMING! I CAN'T 
STOP COMING! TAMMY! YOU ARE SUCKING THE SOUL RIGHT OUT OF ME!" 

She succeeded in sucking him until his come was over. She had no trouble 
determining when his orgasm was finished. Not only did. the jism stop 
spewing, the cock softened. 

 CHAPTER THREE 

There was a huge party going on at the Cornfield Estate. Men and women in 
expensive clothes stood inside the house and out, all with mint juleps in 
their hands. 

Inside the house Bernard Cornfield was talking with three of his very best 
friends, all of whom were also plantation owners in the area. 

The three men were named Marvin Madison, Garth Hudson and Peter Thompson. 
Naturally, the subject being discussed between the four men was pussy. 

"I got me a new little nigger girl named Tammy that is going to grow up and 
be quite a woman," Bernard said, doing nothing to hide the bragging tone in 
his voice. 

"You tested out her poontang yet, Bernard?" Marvin Madison asked, pausing to 
take a sip of his cool drink. The four men all had evil smiles on their 
faces. 

"Sure have," Bernard said with a chuckle. "She sure is tight. And she takes 
well to the whip too. Bawls her eyes out when I thrash her." 

"Which one is she, Bernard?" Garth Hudson asked. He looked around at the 
nigger girls who were serving the party's food and drink. 

"That's her over there in the corner. The one that's looking all shy and 
cute," Bernard said. He gestured toward Tammy with his right forefinger. 

"You're right when you say she is hot looking," Peter Thompson concurred. 
"How did such a little girl like that grow such big tits?" 

"You know how those nigger girls get. They grow them big jugs when they are 
little, and then they are fat and useless by the time they are thirty," 
Bernard said. 

The other three men all nodded and drank and agreed that this was true. In 
the corner Tammy was aware of the fact that the conversation was about her. 

"That's why you got to get to that dark meat when it is still young and 
sweet. After a while they go bad and start smelling like they should bathe - 
even if they have just taken a bath," Marvin Madison said. 

"So, Bernard, tell me," Garth Hudson said, feeling a tingling in his balls. 
"Is there any chance you might lend that nigger girl out for a little 
while?" 

"Yeah, Bernard," Garth Hudson added. "I could use a piece of dark tail right 
now. It would make the rest of the party go easier." 

"I agree, Bernard," said Peter Thompson. "Ever since you started talking 
about her I've been so horny the crack of dawn better look out for me." 

"You can have her anytime you want - and you can do anything you please with 
her. I would appreciate it if you didn't do any damage that won't heal. I 
mean, don't cut off anything that won't grow back," Bernard said. The three 
men shared a hearty laugh. 

"Maybe all three of us could take her at the same time," Peter Thompson 
said. "Just like back in the old days. You remember that, boys?" 

The three men laughed. They all remembered their days as youngsters when 
they all used to gang up on one nigger girl. Three cocks and three holes. 
Things worked out perfectly. 

"Just go over to her and tell her you want her to take you downstairs. She 
will understand what you mean. There are whips and stuff down there too in 
case you would like to give her a little taste of the whip," Bernard said. 
"And, another thing. Don't let my wife catch you going down there. She 
doesn't know about the 'office' I have set up down there." 

"Sure thing Bernard. You play host and we'll be back in a little while - 
right after that nigger cunt cleans out our tubes," Garth said. 

The three men walked over to Tammy with big ear-to-ear shit-eating grins on 
their faces, and Tammy knew immediately what was going to happen to her. 

She thought of Jonah, and she thought of the God she worshipped - the same 
God who was supposed to be good and merciful, but who v always found new 
ways to degrade and hurt this pretty little black girl. 

"OOOOOOOWEEEEEEE!" Marvin Madison said. "Get a whiff of her. This little 
cunt is oozing sex. Come on, baby. Bernard says you are going to show us 
where the downstairs facilities are." 

"Yes, sir," Tammy said subserviently. She tried not to look the men in the 
face. She lowered her eyes and led the three of them out of the room where 
many of the guests had gathered. 

"I'm getting hotter by the second," Garth Hudson said, rubbing the palms of 
his smooth hands together. The three men all had soft hands. 

Between the three of them they had not put in a single honest day's work in 
their entire life. They had had slaves to do all of the chores for them ever 
since they were born. They had all entered the world with a silver spoon 
protruding from their slaving mouths. 

The three men decided, as they went down those rickety wooden stairs toward 
Bernard's torture chamber, that they really weren't in the mood to whip the 
little girl. 

Bernard was into that shit. He whipped the girls just for the hell of it. 
These three men believed that a master should only punish the slaves when 
they have actually done something wrong. To punish a slave, this trio 
believed, without cause, just for kicks, was asking for trouble. 

Besides, they were all too horny to put the matter at hand off. They were 
all anxious to get their cocks inside her so she could pleasure them with 
her holes. 

"Shit, now we gotta decide who is gonna get to fuck her where"' Peter 
Thompson said. "We always used to fight about that when we-were fifteen." 

"Yeah, sometimes I don't feel like I have changed a hell of a lot since I 
was fifteen," Garth Hudson said. "And sometimes I feel like I am a 
completely different person." 

"Well, I think we should flip a coin to figure out who gets to fuck her 
where. If we don't we are all still gonna want her ass and then somebody 
will get mad." 

"Sounds good to me," Marvin said and this was done. It was decided - rather 
quickly, in fact - that Marvin Madison would get to fuck the little girl in 
the pussy. It was decided that Garth Hudson would get to fuck her in the 
ass, and Peter Thompson would get sucked off by Tammy Taylor's hot little 
mouth. 

It had been years since the three men had all gotten inside a slave at the 
same time. They felt a little nostalgic. They felt like boys once again. 

It was like riding a bicycle. Once one learned how to do it, they never 
forgot. They had the logistics of the triple-fuck memorized, for sure. 

The only flat surface down in the torture chamber was the wooden slab table. 
Marvin found a pillow and placed it at the head of that table. 

Marvin then climbed up on top of the table and stretched his long legs out 
in front of him, his feet and his knees close together. He had a 
full-fledged boner inside his trousers. 

They ordered Tammy to get out of her clothes, which didn't take the girl 
very long. She kicked off her worn shoes and removed her dress. 

As usual, the little slave was wearing nothing beneath her dress. She stood 
there innocently naked as they m en eyed her tits and her practically 
hairless pussy. They looked at her ass and commented on how round it was. 

They could see the lash marks on her rear end and this bothered them a 
little bit. It bothered Peter in particular, who had never cared for the 
whip and never used it. Peter always had one of the slaves do his whipping 
for him when it came time to punish someone - because he had never been able 
to bring himself to use it himself. 

Marvin Madison unbuckled his black leather belt and unbuttoned the top of 
his trousers. He lifted his ass from the wooden table and hooked his thumbs 
under the top of his pants. 

Marvin pulled down his pants all the way to his ankles and then stretched 
back out again. His cock flopped onto his hairy belly and began to bounce up 
and down. 

Tammy took one look at the white man's cock flopping up and down like that 
and she couldn't help but think it looked as if it were doing some sort of 
jungle dance - just as her ancestors had done back in the homeland. 

"Get up on the table, cunt and straddle my hips so I can get my cock up 
inside you," Marvin Madison said. He had the same command tone in his voice 
that all white men easily assumed when talking to a slave. 

Tammy got up on the table - praying the whole time that she could get horny. 
She prayed that her pussy would lubricate itself. Nature betrayed her, 
however. 

Her cunt stayed as dry as a bone. Tammy only had to kiss Jonah on the mouth 
once and the glands inside her body would start cranking out her natural 
lubrication. Her pussy was always soaking wet to the point of overflowing 
when her man threw her an ecstatic fuck. 

But here she was with three white men, all of whom were going to fuck her at 
the same time, and she could not get the glands inside her pussy to secrete 
a single drop of fluid. She knew that it was going to hurt like hell when 
Marvin tried to get his cock all the way up her cunt. 

"Now remember boys, don't start fucking until all three of us got our cocks 
inside her. Yeah, you too, Marvin," Garth said. "It's going to be fucking 
hard enough to get my prick up the nigger girl's ass without having to aim 
at a moving target." 

Tammy got up on the table. The wood was hard on her smooth knees. She knelt 
up straight with one knee on either side of Marvin's slim hips. 

Tammy pushed her knees apart as far as she could get them. She wanted her 
protruding and slightly curled back inner cunt lips to part naturally as 
much as possible before the man tried to push his prick up her poontang. 

Tammy knelt with her back straight, and then with her back arched a little 
bit. Her belly became slightly concave, and her rib-cage protruded. 

As Tammy arched her back her huge breasts rose on her chest - so that they 
were resting even higher than they did normally. Her cocoa colored nipples 
were stiff and pointing slightly upward. Marvin was panting. 

Tammy was ordered to put the man's cock inside her cunt herself. She lightly 
ran her fingers up and down the shaft of his dick prick - which was flopping 
up and down on his belly with a greater fervor than before. 

Tammy then worked her tiny black fingers in between the man's belly and his 
cock shaft. As she did this she had her faded palm turned upward toward the 
ceiling of the torture chamber. 

She curled her fingers at the knuckle a little bit and formed a cradle 
underneath Marvin's cock, just below his purple head. She lifted the tip of 
his cock away from his belly. She leaned forward a little bit, jack-knifing 
at the waist. As she leaned forward all three of the men noticed that her 
tits became even larger than usual when the force of gravity was in their 
favor. 

Tammy raised the tip of the man's urgently erect tool of masculinity to her 
little pussy. She rubbed her clit with her piss hole for a while in another 
vain attempt to get her juices flowing. 

Tammy decided that she had better do something, then she had an idea. She 
spit a small pool of saliva into her free palm and smeared it all over the 
man's cock. She put extra spittle on the head of his cock. 

Tammy noticed that Marvin moaned when she did this. He began to shift the 
weight of his lower body from one ass cheek to the other and then back 
again. He was breathing very hard. 

Tammy moved the head of Marvin's cock to the mouth of her fuck hole. She 
wiggled her ass and her loins from side to side a little bit. 

Tammy worked the tip of the man's purple spear in between her curled back 
inner cunt lips. She could feel his cock throbbing against her most 
sensitive area - and still she did not feel a twinge of desire. 

She wished that her mind would stop having such a strong effect on her body. 
She realized that she could keep her, inevitable pain to a minimum if she 
could only get herself aroused. But she was too filled with hate and awe to 
feel desire. She was going to have to take his cock inside her cunt with her 
own spittle as the only lubrication. 

Tammy adjusted her hips so that his cock and her internal passage way were 
at the appropriate angles for deep-vaginal violation. She began to push down 
on the tip of his prick with the mouth of her dark meat fuck hole. 

She could feel her inner cunt lips begrudgingly opening. She could feel the 
head of his cock pushing inside her. She looked down and watched his 
foreskin peeling back. 

Jonah's cock was so much larger that this man's - yet Jonah's cock always 
entered with much greater ease. Her pussy would stretch for Jonah in amazing 
ways. Her cunt would bulge in and out when Jonah fucked her, and she never 
felt the slightest twinge of discomfort. But Marvin was hurting her and she 
clenched her back teeth together as she felt the tip of his prick first on 
her dimpled cervix, the mouth of her womb, and then snug against the back 
wall of her cunt. 

Tammy did not stop pressing down with her nigger cunt until the entire 
length of that purple pole was up inside her. Her inner cunt lips were 
gripping his cock at the very hilt. She could feel his scrotal sack 
throbbing against her asshole. 

The second that first cock was all the way inside her they ordered her to 
kick her legs out behind her so that her knees were straight. 

She did as she was told, of course, without a peep of protest. She kept her 
thighs parted, and she kept Marvin's cock all the way inside her. 

Garth Hudson immediately moved to the side of the torture table. Garth 
already had his pants down to his knees and his cock was standing at 
attention before him. 

Garth ran his fingertips up and down the backs of the little girl's smooth 
thighs. He tickled her behind her knees. He touched the lash marks on the 
cheeks of her black ass delicately. 

He placed one palm on either cheek of her ass. He touched her gently at 
first but he quickly firmed up his caress. He began to knead her ass flesh. 

He kneaded her buttocks just as if he were preparing unrisen dough for a 
stint in the baker's oven. He then turned the tips of his fingers inward 
toward the crack of her ass. 

Garth turned his elbows outward so that they were pointing in opposite 
directions. He dug his fingertips into the cleavage between her ebony buns. 

Garth didn't stop pushing his fingers deeper and deeper still into the crack 
of her ass until the tips of his middle fingers were only a fraction of an 
inch away from the frightened mouth of her rectum on either side. 

Garth pressed with the tips of his strong digits. He pressed hard enough to 
make Tammy's ass flesh pucker a bit beneath the tension he was exerting. 

Garth began to tug her ass cheeks apart. He did this slowly and 
ceremoniously - as if he were parting two halves of a ripe and sacred fruit. 

Garth did not stop tugging her buttocks apart until they were separated as 
far as they could possibly go. She could feel the skin in the crack of her 
ass pulling taut. 

He tugged her ass cheeks so far apart that even some of the puckers in her 
nether eye were smoothed. He then held her ass cheeks all the way open with 
his left hand exclusively. 

He spit onto his right palm and slapped that saliva onto her hot, hot 
asshole. He massaged the spittle all around her rectum with a slow, circular 
motion. 

Garth decided to push some of the slippery saliva up inside her ass - and, 
naturally enough, he decided to use his right middle finger to do that. 
After all, that was his longest digit. 

Garth placed the tip of his middle finger right at the center of the brown 
asterisk that formed her anus. He snapped his wrist and drove the wet finger 
inside. 

Tammy let out a grunt as if all of the wind had been knocked from her lungs. 
She could feel the man's finger pushing past her sphincter muscle. 

The finger pushed past the tight tubular muscle - right into her colon, 
which was softer and more elastic. He pushed his finger up her ass as far as 
it could go. 

Garth didn't stop pushing until Tammy's asshole was gripping him at the 
third knuckle. He wiggled his finger around inside her playfully. 

He worked his finger in and out of her for a moment or two and then pulled 
his finger all the way out. He sniffed his finger and raised an eyebrow at 
the aroma. 

Then the man lubed up his own dick with spittle arid climbed on top of the 
table. He sprawled himself across the little girl's backside. There was a 
lot of weight on Marvin's chest at that point - but if he minded he did not 
let on. 

Tammy's delicious black breasts were pressed flat against Marvin's shirt. 
She could feel Garth panting on the back of her neck. Tammy knew that there 
was only a thin wall of flesh between her colon and her inner cunt. 

The diminutive slave girl knew that this wall of flesh would be stretched 
very very thin once both cocks were inside her at the same time. 

Tammy knew that Garth and Marvin would be able to feel each other's cocks 
through that wall when they fucked her down there simultaneously. 

She could feel him guiding the head of his cock between her ripe cheeks. He 
had his dick in his right hand. Garth gave his cock three experimental 
squeezes. 

The southern plantation owner wanted to make sure that his cock was as hard 
and thick as possible. He had nothing to worry about along those lines. 

He had a full-fledged boner - there could be no doubt about that. He ran the 
tip up and down the crack of her ass. Marvin and Garth could feel their 
scrotal sacks touching one another. 

Then he stopped the head of his dick when it was pressed directly against 
her nether eye. He adjusted his hips so that his cock would be at the right 
angle. 

Garth tensed the muscles in his ass cheeks. He pressed his manly buttocks 
together as tightly as he could get them - and he began to push. 

Tammy cried out in pain and felt tears welling in her dark brown eyes as her 
asshole was forced open to take his purple glans. She could feel all of the 
puckers in her asshole being smoothed. 

Her ass felt like it was going to tear wide open by the time the man got the 
head of his dick in her. But he did not stop pushing there. No way. The m an 
had every intention of getting his whole prick in her ass - and he didn't 
give a shit one way or the other how much he hurt her in the process. He 
pushed his pole past her sphincter and into her colon. He pushed until the 
tip of his cock was throbbing against the pit of her bowels - the smelliest 
core of Tammy's womanhood. 

She was a sandwich. 

A Tammy sandwich on stud. 

She had two cocks in her and she felt like she was ready to burst - and 
there was still one cock left to go. She looked forward through tear-filled 
eyes and she say Peter Thompson with his pants all the way down around his 
ankles, struggling to get up onto the table. 

Peter finally moved to a kneeling position in front of Tammy's head. The 
little girl straightened her neck and opened her mouth wide for him like a 
good little slave. 

Peter didn't like the whip - but that didn't mean he didn't get in a mean 
mood every now and again. This happened to be one of those times. He began 
to slap the little girl across the face with his stiff meat. 

He just wanted to degrade her and humiliate her more than she was already. 
Peter then placed his hands on top of her head. He ran his fingers across 
her scalp to the back of her neck. 

He pressed his digits into the muscles at the nape of her neck hard enough 
to make the flesh pucker there. He hurt her in this fashion. She was making 
snorting noises through her flaring nostrils. She was sweating profusely. 

Peter turned his wrists and moved his hands so that his palms were over the 
little girl's shell-like ears. He pinned her ears to the sides of her pretty 
head. 

He made it very difficult for Tammy to hear anything at all. The things 
Tammy could hear sounded as if they were coming from far, far away. 

He held her head so tightly that Tammy could no longer pull away from his 
with her head and shoulders - not even a fraction of an inch. 

Peter clasped her head so tightly that the diminutive slave girl could no 
longer turn her face from side to side. The only direction she could move 
her face was forward - and that, of course, was the only direction that 
Peter Thompson was concerned with. 

Her held her head stringently - as if he wanted to crush it like a grape. He 
pushed the head of his dick into her gaping mouth and she began to suck on 
it. 

Tammy thought the man would be satisfied with having just the head of his 
cock sucked - like the way she pleasured Jonah with her hot mouth. 

But this was not what Peter had in mind at all. Marvin and Garth were going 
to get to fuck their holes - and he wanted to get to fuck her mouth as well. 
He wanted to fuck her face with the entire length of his cock. 

He told her this and she panicked for a moment. She knew there was no way he 
could ram his dick all the way down her gullet without hurting her badly. 

She knew she was going to gag horribly. She felt his cock pushing into the 
back of her mouth and then down her throat. She gagged immediately and the 
tears that had already welled in her dark brown eyes began to stream down 
the sides of her face, over her cheekbones and her smooth cheeks. Tammy's 
face was stained by her tears - and she correctly assumed that that was 
going to happen each and every time a white man took her into the torture 
room. 

She had to struggle to keep her teeth off of Peter's cock. She was scared of 
what might happen if she accidentally bit the man's pole. 

He pushed and pushed. She realized that he was being pleasured by her pain 
in a couple of ways. He enjoyed the fact that he was hurting her, plus the 
spasms in her throat were squeezing at his rock-hard dick meat. Each time 
the little girl gagged the Man's cock was given a sharp caress, sending 
magic fingers of masculine pleasure rolling up and down the entire length of 
his spine, all the way from his tailbone to the nape of his neck and then 
back down again. 

Tammy could see through her tears that her nose was getting closer and 
closer to the thick patch of pubic hair growing above the base of Peter's 
cock. 

She knew that once the man's pubic bush covered her nose she would be unable 
to breathe at all. She feared that he would suffocate her with his meat. 

Indeed, he pushed until her lips gripped his cock at the hilt- Tammy could 
feel Peter Thompson's balls resting on her little black chin. 

Three cocks at once. Her throat was on fire. 

Then, Peter gave the cue that he was all the way in and the men began to 
fuck all at once. They all laughed because they remembered a time when this 
was a common practice, a time when they were all filled with the plethora of 
jism that comes with youth. 

They pulled out together. 

They stabbed into her together. 

Their hip movements were in sync with one another. 

They managed to keep their natural in and out fucking motion in sync with 
one another even as all three of them steadily increased the tempo of the 
triple fuck. They started out slowly but steadily increased the pace. She 
could feel her gullet being ravaged. She could feel her asshole being tugged 
out away from the rest of the cleavage between her buttocks so hard that it 
shocked her. 

 CHAPTER FOUR 

Annabelle Cornfield always took a long time with her toilet each morning. 
She had to inspect herself and wash herself thoroughly before she could 
dress and make herself seen by the outside world. 

No nook nor cranny went unexamined. No toenail unchecked. It was not 
uncommon for the woman to spend two hours in the John before she appeared 
downstairs demanding her breakfast from the slaves. 

She had her own private bathroom - so no one cared how long she stayed in 
there. She had her own private bedroom, for that matter. It had been a very 
long time since she and Bernard had slept in the same room for a whole 
night. 

After Annabelle asked her husband for her own room, he occasionally visited 
her there at night for a fuck - maybe twice a week or something like that. 

But Annabelle, whose pussy was very precious, or so she thought, didn't care 
for the process of relieving his manly urges. She began to reject him - even 
though he only came into her room every once in a while. 

She thought he was a sex maniac. It never occurred to her that it was HER 
libido that was out of sync with the rest of the world. She put out for 
Bernard about once a month as of late, and she thought that that should be 
enough to keep any man happy. 

No, it never occurred to Annabelle that there was anything wrong with her. 
According to Annabelle she had never been wrong in her entire life. 

According to Annabelle she was perfect in every way. Her Daddycakes had told 
her that when she was just a little girl - and she believed it to this very 
day. 

Now Annabelle had sexual urges, for sure, but she did not relate them to her 
husband, his cock and balls, or his needs. Her urges were her own - and she 
had discovered that her horniness was best appeased by her own hand. 

Annabelle washed her hands three times after jerking herself off when she 
masturbated. She could not stand the thought of having that DREADFUL cunty 
smell on her fingers. 

Annabelle was a cleanliness freak - what Sigmund Freud would have called an 
anal compulsive. She became nervous if she saw a cigar ash in an ashtray - 
and would immediately order one of the slaves to empty and wash out the tray 
so she would not have to look at the FILTH. 

Annabelle douched herself three times a day - as many times as she brushed 
her teeth. She wouldn't admit, not even to herself, that she douched 
frequently because she thought it felt good. 

Annabelle told herself that her obsession with personal hygiene was just a 
little bit of precious womanly vanity. What man would not want to have a 
wife who smelled sweet and fresh all the time. 

It never occurred to Annabelle that there was no point in keeping her cunt 
clean if she didn't allow her man to fuck her very frequently - and she 
NEVER let him put his head down there between her legs. 

The thought of her husband's tongue on that dirty spot between her legs made 
her shudder. She couldn't understand why the man would want to do something 
like that. 

Annabelle was convinced that her husband - along with all of the other 
members of his gender she had met in her life - were crude, uncivilized and 
disgusting. 

They were animals rather than people with only one thing on their minds. It 
never occurred to Annabelle when she was diddling herself that she was being 
slightly hypocritical when it came to her opinions of men. 

On this particular morning Annabelle took a long shower and spent much time 
soaping herself up between her legs. She could feel the tingling down there 
and she knew that she was going to have to touch herself until she had an 
orgasm. 

Masturbation was like taking a healthy shit as far as Annabelle was 
concerned. She had something poisonous lodged inside her system - and it had 
to be set free! 

She cursed her own horniness and sometimes denied her own pleasure to 
herself. Seconds after an orgasm was through she could tell herself that it 
hadn't REALLY felt very good at all. 

The only reason she did it was to get rid of the sinful pressure in her 
loins, much as she might have taken a tonic for one of her many migraine 
headaches. 

Still, no one wondered why Bernard Cornfield had married Annabelle in the 
first place. The truth of the matter was that she was one of the most 
beautiful women in the entire Georgia county. 

She was a tall, statuesque woman, standing five feet seven inches tall. She 
was very light in her coloring, and had a perfect hourglass figure. 

Annabelle's hair was very long and light blonde in hue. She had the sort of 
hair that would bleach to a near-white color after not much time in the 
golden sunshine at all. 

But this never happened. Annabelle would not have been caught dead in the 
sun with a parasol or a broad-brimmed lid. Her skin was very fair and she 
was convinced that too much sunshine would ruin her milky complexion 
forever. 

The women of the nineteenth century American South were not interested in 
tanning themselves. Who wanted dark skin? Why, that would make one more like 
a nigger, wouldn't it? 

Annabelle's spun-gold hair fell in thick waves over her shoulders, spilling 
gracefully low down her back. Her hair came down almost all the way to the 
top of the crack of her ass. 

Her golden tresses were parted in the middle - revealing a straight line of 
pink scalp down the center of her head's crown. Her hair fell onto her 
forehead in the front on downy bangs that came almost all the way down to 
her neatly plucked eyebrows. 

Annabelle's eyelashes and eyebrows were just as light as the hair on her 
head - as was the short and curly hair that grew above and to the sides of 
her precious pussy. 

It was not a surprise to anyone that Bernard and Annabelle had no children. 
Everyone who knew Annabelle could tell she was a cold fish, and none of 
Bernard's friends - at least not his male friends - ever thought twice about 
his decision to get a little something on the side from his nigger girls now 
and again. 

Annabelle's women friends sometimes tried to talk to Annabelle about her icy 
ways. They warned her that she would lose her husband if she didn't give him 
what he wants. 

Lie back and enjoy it, they told her. It's not that bad. Sometimes it can be 
a lot of fun, they added. But Annabelle would hear none of it. 

She told her friends that they had all been brainwashed into enjoying sex by 
their animalistic hubbies. Eventually the woman gave up on Annabelle, She 
was a lost cause. Her knees had been glued together when she just a little 
girl - and it would take more than a friendly word of advice to pry those 
shapely gams open. 

Annabelle's eyes were almond-shaped and hauntingly beautiful. Her eyes were 
the color of a summer sky - a sky totally devoid of cotton clouds. 

As Annabelle stepped out of the shower that morning she was unaware of the 
fact that Bernard was down in the torture chamber with Tammy Taylor. 

It never occurred to her that her husband fooled with the dark meat poontang 
on the plantation. She thought white men were as disgusted by the black 
animals that worked for them as she was. 

Then again, Annabelle had heard that there were men who got so horny that 
they fucked the farm animals, but she didn't think Bernard was that sort. He 
wouldn't fuck a cow or a mare or a sheep or a goat or anything like that. 

Those people, the people that did that disgusting act with animals, should 
be put in the nut house with the nymphomaniac prostitutes from Atlanta. 

Annabelle had a tiny nose. It was a mere button, and it turned up a little 
at its tip. Her mouth was not large, but her lips were full and sensuous. 

Looks can be deceiving. A stranger would have thought - upon seeing 
Annabelle Cornfield for the first time - that she was oozing lust and hot to 
trot. 

Her lips were puffy and pouting, the upper lip forced to protrude in a very 
cute way by her slight overbite. Her cheeks were rosy at the cheekbones. 

She kept her lips slightly puckered and parted at all times. She licked them 
frequently to keep them moist. She wore a cherry-red lipstick on her lips. 
She thought her lips were shaped like a heart when she had them puckered - 
though no one else had ever seemed to notice this. 

Yes, Annabelle Cornfield was walking through life looking as if she needed 
to be kissed very badly. Nothing could have been further from the truth. 

Her teeth were very white. Her breasts were large and finely shaped. She had 
a slim waist and round hips. Her legs were very long and she looked great in 
the flowing dresses she wore when the Cornfield's threw one of their wild 
parties. Ever since the white woman had been a little girl she had taken to 
womanly vanities like a fish takes to water. She loved putting on her 
make-up - mostly because it gave her an opportunity to spend a long time 
examining her own face in the looking glass. 

Ever since she was little she had been obsessed with her manicure and 
pedicure. She always kept her fingernails very long - and filed carefully so 
that each nail was precisely the same length. 

Annabelle filed her nails so that they had a common curve to their tips. She 
always kept her nails painted a deep red color - the color of blood as it 
oozes from a recently opened wound. 

She correctly assumed that this crimson hue went very well with her perfect 
peaches and cream complexion. 

Naturally enough, she always painted her toenails so that they matched. Her 
nipples were very pink and they were erect as she stepped out of her bath. 

She toweled herself off slowly. She could feel the hot blood of her, 
feminine sexual arousal pumping downward in her body. Washing and rinsing 
her private parts had gotten her libido worked up. She cursed herself for 
being human with human urges - and she cursed herself for feeling what every 
other woman on earth feels. She decided to jerk herself off quickly so she 
wouldn't have to spend much time thinking about how sinfully wicked she was 
being in the privacy of her bath. 

Annabelle sat on her toilet with her knees apart. She could tell that her 
inner and outer cunt lips were both swelling rapidly with the blood of her 
womanly horniness. She could tell that it wouldn't be very long at all 
before all of the mucous membranes between her parted thighs were thoroughly 
engorged with that hot blood. 

She could feel the little glands deep inside her cunt starting to secrete 
her natural lubrication. She could tell her cunt was getting moist. 

She knew that it wouldn't be moist for long. Soon, she knew, she would be 
soaking wet down there between her milky white thighs. She could feel her 
clitoris growing. 

The center of her warped womanly desire was filling with blood and 
approaching engorgement along with the rest of her pussy's tissues. 

She could feel her nipples getting harder and larger. She could hear her 
breaths getting shorter and closer together. She could feel the pace of her 
heartbeat quicken. 

She arched her fingers so that her long red fingernails would not get in the 
way and began to stroke her nipples with the fleshy parts of her fingertips. 

She shivered and moaned a little. There were two sets of walls between her 
private bath and the rest of the house - so she did not have to worry about 
anyone hearing her moans and groans of physical pleasure She tried to get 
outside of herself - so that she would not have to feel guilt and disgust 
over her own enjoyment. 

Annabelle would have denied that she even had a pussy if she had been asked 
the question point blank. She rubbed her nipples as lightly as she could at 
first but her stroke became firmer as she proceeded. 

Annabelle got each of her nipples in between her thumbs and forefingers and 
pinched them lightly. She could feel little liquid fingers of feminine 
enjoyment rolling gracefully up and down the entire length of her backbone. 

Annabelle could feel the little golden hairs at the nape of her white neck 
standing on end. She lightly tugged her nipples. She could feel them getting 
larger and harder against her sensitized fingertips. Annabelle pulled her 
nipples until the skin all around those pink feminine erections was 
stretched taut - and both of her breasts looked a good deal pointier than 
usual. 

Annabelle could feel her pink clitoris pushing out from under the fleshy 
sheath that usually all but covered it. She could feel her clit becoming as 
erect as her nipples. 

Her love button was pushing her clitoral foreskin up and out of the way. She 
knew that it would not be long before her clit felt as if it were going to 
come popping right out of her pussy. She could feel her natural lubrication 
starting to pool thickly and hotly at the base of her pink poontang slash, 
in between her curled back inner cunt lips, right at the mouth of her 
seldom-used fuck hole. She could feel the pressure growing in her femininely 
sloped loins. She could feel a heat on the insides of her thighs - and she 
could tell the skin their was flushing a bright red with her horniness. She 
tried to make her mind go blank. Each rational - rational for her, that is, 
thought stifled her pleasure rather than enhanced it. 

She was a woman without dreams. 

She had no fantasy. 

She could tell that it would not be long before her natural lubrication 
began to spill out of her pussy down into the crack of her ass, just like 
sweet nectar dripping from a split in the fuzzy skin of a ripe peach. 

She could feel the pink tissues between her parted thighs starting to crawl 
around as if they had all developed minds of their own. 

She released her pinching and pulling grip on her nipples and opened her 
hands so that she could squeeze her own tits. She placed her hands over her 
breasts so that the nipples were throbbing precisely against the centers of 
her stretched and slightly cupped palms. She pressed the fleshy part of her 
fingertips into her tits hard enough to make that tit flesh pucker a bit. 

She threw back her head. 

Her eyes closed. 

Her mouth fell open. 

Her tongue flicked outward. 

Annabelle began to move her tits in slow sensuous circles. Her head pushed 
back further and further toward the wall. It so happened that right behind 
the beautiful but icy cold woman's head was a ventilation pipe that ran up 
and down the entire height of the house - all the way from the top floor to 
the basement. 

Annabelle thought she could hear something - voices of something - coming 
from that ventilation pipe - but she couldn't be sure. She was not curious 
enough to stop and press her ear against the pipe. Her mind was on other 
things. 

Annabelle pushed her tits upward and then downward. She pulled her tits 
apart and then pressed them together snugly. She pressed her tits together 
so snugly - as a matter of fact - that they were flattened on their insides 
and the -cleavage between them became extraordinarily long and deep. This 
self-caress to her tits was only making the ache between her legs that much 
worse. She released her grip on her tits and ran the tips of her fingers 
down the flat plain of her belly. She traced the tip of her right forefinger 
nail all around her dimpled and concave bellybutton. She then - feeling 
experimentative - dipped that fingernail right into her bellybutton, and she 
discovered that this felt a hell of a lot better than she thought it was 
going to. 

She stroked her lower belly - and then her abdomen. She tugged lightly at 
her blonde pubies with her fingers. Her pubic hair grew neatly on her mound. 

Annabelle's hair grew in a perfect inverted triangle - a triangle that 
looked like an arrow indicating the location of her clitoral foreskin. 

Anyone who looked at that trim blonde hair would have thought that she 
surely cropped it to keep it that way, or that she shaves her inner thighs 
or something. The beautiful blonde person was the only one in the world who 
knew that that was the way her golden pubic hair grew naturally. 

She had an urge to start touching her pussy right then and there - but she 
stifled this urge. Instead she began to stroke the insides of her thighs - 
which were parted by this time to a perfect ninety-degree angle. 

She placed the tips of her long red fingernails on the insides of her thighs 
close to her bent knees. She drew her nails - both hands at the same time - 
toward her crotch. 

She scratched herself lightly. 

She didn't stop until the tips of her nails were less than an inch away from 
the sides of her vulva. She then repeated the caress. She lifted her feet 
from the floor and placed her toes on the front of the toilet. She leaned 
back, her head now closer to that ventilation pipe. Again she thought she 
heard something coming from that pipe, a scream or something, but she paid 
no attention. Either it was her imagination or maybe a little steam or 
something. Who would be screaming in her house? 

She stroked her inner thighs until she could feel her cunt juices dripping 
over the inch-long patch of mucous membrane in between her pink asterisk of 
an asshole and the base of her thoroughly engorged cunt. 

She couldn't take it anymore. She had teased herself long enough. She opened 
her legs even further. She scratched the cheeks of her ass. She opened her 
ass cheeks with her left hand and ran the tip of her right forefinger up and 
down the crack of her ass. She found that her asshole was very 
hypersensitive and erogenous, but even in her aroused state of mind she 
could not bring herself to touch that DIRTY spot for very long. 

She could tell that the crack of her ass was all wet and slippery with the 
juices that had dribbled from her quim. She ran the tip of her finger up and 
down the outermost parts of her vulva. She caressed her fat, swollen outer 
cunt lips all the way from the base to the top of her pussy. She came very 
close to her clit without making direct contact with it. 

She touched at the sides of her clit and just above the love button, at the 
clitoral foreskin, but she did not touch the little man in the boat itself. 

She wanted to save the focal point of her womanly desire for last. She was 
going to explore each nook and crannie of her cunt before touching the magic 
and fiery bulb at the very top of her oozing cooze. 

She worked her finger in between her inner and outer cunt lips. She then 
rubbed ever-so-gingerly at the curled back outer edges of her inner labia. 

She worked her finger in between her inner cunt lips and touched the little 
hole where she made pee-pee. If asked she would have denied ever having to 
shit or piss. She was a lady of the top drawer variety. If she did shit she 
wanted everyone to believe that her turds came out smelling like powder 
puffs. 

The back of her head was pressed hard against the wall behind her toilet by 
this time and her facial features were beginning to contort because of the 
intensity of the sexual sensations she was giving herself. She could no 
longer hear the sounds coming from the ventilation pipe, because her own 
exclamations of pleasure were drowning those sounds out. Her cried of 
feminine joy were becoming increasingly loud and high in pitch. They were 
becoming shrill. Indeed, the muscles in the woman's neck were tensed. They 
were squeezing at her voice box and affecting the product of her vocal 
cords. 

She knew she didn't have to move her finger very far to touch her clit. She 
only had to pull upward about an inch. She was touching herself directly 
below her little man in the boat. But the beautiful blonde woman took a deep 
breath to replenish her willpower and pushed her finger downward instead. 
She rubbed in between the inner lips, deeper and deeper. She hooked her 
finger under the base of her pubic bone and penetrated herself with the 
middle finger on her right hand. She violated her own cunt in this fashion 
very slowly and carefully - making sure she didn't scratch herself with her 
long nail. 

She bent her wrist. 

She pushed in up to the third knuckle. 

She touched her own cervix. She caressed the mouth of her womb. She could 
feel her clit ready to come popping right out of her quim. Her back teeth 
were clenched and her eyes were closed tightly. Her mouth was open a little, 
the lips puckered and sensuous. She was breathing as if she were 
purposefully trying to hyperventilate herself. Her heartbeat was racing. She 
could feel a little perspiration on her inner thighs. 

Her toes curled under tightly. Her pink toes were gripping desperately at 
the balls of her dainty feet. 

She worked her finger in and out of her cunt slowly - and then faster. And 
then faster still. She worked three fingers up inside herself and she 
whipped that honey pot into a froth! 

Annabelle finger-fucked herself in this manner until she was on the edge of 
orgasm. She then placed her left forefinger at the very top of her slit, at 
the base of her inverted triangle of golden blonde pubic hair as she pulled 
her right fingers - which were all wet and sticky - out of her cunt. She 
placed her fingernail on her clitoral foreskin and tugged that fleshy sheath 
upward, completely away from the fiery bulb that was the focal point of her 
feminine craving. 

She rendered her love button completely naked and vulnerable to her own 
caress. She then touched her clit as lightly as she possibly could with the 
fleshy tip of her free forefinger. She pulled her finger away almost 
immediately. 

She knew that she didn't have to touch that fiery bulb. She knew that all 
sensations spawned by the direct caress to her clit would be amplified a 
thousand times by her aroused nervous-system. 

She sought - and she found - the most subtle clitoral caress. In spite of 
this, she could feel a lightning bolt of pleasure shooting up her spine 
toward the base of her skull. 

She could feel the shot of pleasure stopping at the base of her skull and 
then retreating. She dabbed at her clit with her finger, feeling a stronger 
bolt of pleasure each time - but she always pulled her finger away from the 
magic spot before her orgasmic convulsions had an opportunity to begin. 

She waited until all of her muscles were tensed. She waited until she was 
breathing so hard that she was hardly breathing at all. She waited until she 
was shuddering violently and she feared she would hurt herself - pull a 
muscle of something. 

Then Annabelle put her finger on her clit and left it there, she kept her 
finger still and alternated the pressure from light to firm - and then back 
to light again. 

She was hovering on the edge. 

She was teetering on the cliff. 

She was ready to tumble into the bottomless abyss of bliss. 

She began to roll her love button in several slow circles - and then a quick 
figure eight. That did it. She tipped herself over the edge and she fell 
into the bottomless pit. She let out a shrill cry as she could feel the 
explosions of sexual wonder starting up at the top of her thoroughly 
engorged snatch. 

She could feel the pleasure in her clit spreading until it filled her vulva 
- and then her entire lower torso. Her tongue flopped in and out of her 
mouth. 

 CHAPTER FIVE 

Annabelle could feel the feminine ecstasy spreading through her - almost as 
if it were moving in slow motion. 

The joy dispersed from her clit in ever-increasing concentric circles - and 
they didn't stop until Annabelle was enveloped by them. 

The beautiful blonde woman could feel each and every one of her 
nerve-endings being affected by her pleasure. Her nervous-system was going 
berserk. She let out a loud cry of joy. Her lips stretched back over her 
teeth. 

A vein throbbed at her temple. 

She shook her head from side to side as the thunderclap rolled up her spine 
to the base of her skull, as before - where it now only paused for a 
fraction of a second before exploding into the gorgeous towhead's reeling 
brain. 

She could feel her fingers getting even wetter and stickier than before. Her 
asshole was opening and closing wildly, as if her orgasm had spread to that 
passageway as well. 

Her sense of time and space was badly warped by the acuteness of her 
pleasure. Annabelle was only vaguely aware of where she was. She felt as if 
her ass cheeks were lifting off the toilet seat. 

Annabelle's sense of reality left her. Her stream-of-consciousness began to 
travel many different paths - all simultaneously. Her thoughts were strewn 
in subject, diffuse, and her attention span was close to nil. 

Then the pleasure was over and she could feel her womanly ecstasy instantly 
becoming replaced - to her moaning delight - by the intense warmth and utter 
contentment of the woman's post-orgasmic afterglow. Her loins were rich and 
alive with her sexual appeasement. She quickly caught her breath. 

Reality began to filter back down into her brain. She could see the walls in 
front of her. The framed painting. The carpet beneath her feet. 

She struggled to catch her breath - and her milky white tits and pink 
nipples bobbed up and down on her chest as she sucked air into her lungs. 

She left her fingers in the pie for a moment or two - and then pulled them 
out quickly, embarrassed to see herself in that degrading way. 

She was sobered by her satisfaction and she quickly got up off the toilet. 
She went directly to the sink and washed her hands thoroughly. She dried 
them off and sniffed her fingers. 

Her nostrils still picked up the scent of her animalistic womanhood so she 
washed her hands again. This time she was satisfied that they smelled only 
of the soap she had used. 

She realized that she had to pee so she returned to the toilet and squatted 
over it. She leaned back because the muscles in her neck felt a little tight 
and she wanted to stretch. 

She happened to press her ear against the ventilation pipe when she did that 
- and she was surprised to find that she really could hear voices! 

Not only could she hear the voices, but she could understand the words. One 
of the voices belonged to a small Negro girl and the other to her husband. 

Annabelle almost forgot to urinate as she listened in on the conversation. 
She couldn't believe it. Her eyes got wider and wider. It has been said that 
hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. , Pretty Annabelle Cornfield was 
about to prove that adage true. 

The conversation she heard went like this: "Tammy, you are gonna have to 
take the whole thing inside you." 

"But I can't master, you are gonna rip me apart!" 

"Little slave girl, you don't know much about obedience." 

"OWWWW! Don't do that to my nipple. OH GOD!" 

"I will decide what to do and what not to do around here!" 

"But you hurt me so badly. How can you enjoy it?" 

"I enjoy it because I love you Tammy. This is how I love." 

"Lord have mercy on my soul! Please don't do it!" 

"You have taken my cock inside your pussy many times, Tammy." 

"Yes, but you said you weren't going to use your cock." 

"That's right! I am going to fuck you with my entire fist!" 

"B-b-b-b-but why do you need that black leather glove?" 

"Because I can't stand getting blood on my hands!!!!" 

Down in the torture chamber - totally unaware of the tact that he had an 
audience - and a very important audience at that - Bernard went about his 
weekly task of abusing the littlest of his slaves. 

He had put the black leather glove on his right fist and he had pressed in 
between the fingers to make sure it was on as snugly as Tammy Taylor had 
endured many things since she had been visiting her master's torture 
chamber. Her entire back, as well as his buttocks, showed the marks of his 
savage lash! 

She had cried more tears than she cared to count - endured more agonies than 
should be suffered by a human being. The master had almost convinced her 
that she was not a human being, but just an animal. Almost. Tammy still had 
a soul and she knew it! 

She was on the torture table on her back, her arms and legs cuffed in place. 
She was breathing very fast, making whimpering sounds of fear. She struggled 
against the cuffs, digging their sharp teeth deeper into the flesh at her 
wrists and her ankles. Her hands and her feet were darker than the rest of 
her body, blood forced into them. 

He produced a small dish of animal grease slightly coagulated, gathered from 
the kitchen after the previous night's meal. He covered the leather glove 
with that slippery grease. 

This was to be the lubrication. 

He slapped three fingers of grease onto her clit and rubbed it all around 
her pussy, on her outer lips, her inner lips, in between her inner lips. 

He ran the tips of his gloved fingers up and down the insides of the little 
black girl's thighs. He rubbed up and down her outer labia. For the 
umpteenth time since her arrival Tammy found herself praying that her cunt 
would get horny and swell and lubricate itself in spite of her fear. 

She couldn't do it though. She could only get wet for Jonah - and that was 
all there was too it. Horniness and love were inseparable in the girl's 
mind. He could ram a tree trunk up her, and he could diddle her clit until 
he stiffened in the joints of his wiggling finger - but he was never going 
to get a moan of pleasure out of Tammy Taylor. To tell the truth, this 
didn't make any difference to Bernard Cornfield one way or the other. He was 
interested only in his own enjoyment, and he dug it when she screamed very 
loud with pain. When she was in real agony - as she would be soon - he was 
having the time of his . life. He considered himself very lucky that he was 
in a healthy position with plenty of flesh black meat to abuse on a daily 
basis. Naturally, Tammy wasn't the only slave that visited the torture 
chamber. The man had called each and every one of his nigger girls down into 
the basement at one time or another. He had been known to be particularly 
cruel to the fat women and the pregnant woman. One little girl aborted right 
there on his torture table. He told her he was going to reach inside her and 
pull the baby out. She believed this was possible and did the job for him - 
her terror destroying her ability to carry life any longer. 

He did something terrible to a fat woman strapped on her round belly once - 
and the woman had to wear diapers afterward because she could no longer 
control her bowel movements. She died shortly thereafter. 

He didn't care. 

She was fat and close to worthless. She wasn't going to drop any more kids 
and she ate more than her share. She was particularly dumb - even for a 
nigger, and couldn't seem to figure out the simplest of tasks. He was rather 
pleased when she kicked the bucket. Good for the plantation budget, was his 
thinking. 

Tammy watched as the man turned his right gloved hand so that the palm was 
upward, facing the ceiling of the creepy, dimly illuminated torture chamber. 

He worked the tip of his middle finger in between her inner cunt lips. He 
wiggled it around in the grease and pushed it a little deeper. He hooked 
that digit under the base of the little girl's pubic bone. 

He let loose with a sharp snap of his strong wrist - and he drove his finger 
all the way into her pussy all at once. He felt her inner labia tugging his 
finger at the third knuckle. He wiggled the finger and moved it in and out. 
He covered her internal tissues with the animal grease. 

He added his forefinger. 

Then his ring finger. 

He clustered those three digits together so that their tips looked like 
three corners of a small triangle. He twisted those fingers as he moved them 
in and out. Tammy tried desperately to relax the muscles at the sides of her 
vulva - but she found that all of her efforts were in vain due to the 
acuteness of her petrifying terror. 

She knew that her cunt was going to be stretched further that it had ever 
been stretched before - much further than it was stretched by even Jonah's 
prick. 

She whines with fear. 

Sweat poured from her. 

She could see him working his pinky into her pussy and she already felt as 
if her cunt were stretched further than it could go. Her mucous membranes 
were taut. Her clit was tiny and still buried beneath its protective sheath 
of flesh. She could feel him pushing against the mouth of her cunt as his 
gloved middle finger successfully located her cervix. He pressed hard 
against the spongy tissues in between the mouth of the diminutive nigger 
girl's womb and the base of her pubic bone. 

Now he had the tips of his fingers clustered like the corners of a square. 
He hollowed his palm and pressed the tip of his gloved thumb precisely 
against its center. 

The handsome white man could feel his own breathing quickening as he moved 
his huge feet on the bare floor so that he had perfect balance. 

Bernard Cornfield moved one foot slightly behind the other and they were 
parted to shoulder-width. He straightened his right arm and locked that 
elbow. 

He hunched up his shoulder. 

He gritted his teeth. 

He flexed his muscles. 

He began to push his hand against her pussy as hard as he could - and she 
began to scream bloody murder as she felt the tissues tearing. 

She watched in horror, the pain sweeping through, as his knuckles actually 
disappeared inside her cunt. She almost sighed with relief as her inner 
labia were given a chance to close a bit around the man's wrist. The glove 
he wore rolled up into her forearm - so her cunt never touched anything but 
leather. Bernard did not want to get nigger blood on his skin. He was afraid 
it might stain or something like that. 

But the worst was yet to come. 

His fingers were still straight and clustered within her. He began to bend 
his gloved digits at the knuckles and Tammy Taylor could tell he had no 
intention of calling a halt to this sadistic process until his right hand 
was clenched in a tight fist - a fat so tight that each and every one of his 
knuckles would turn white beneath his black leather glove. She could feel 
herself being stretched as no little girl should be stretched. She felt as 
if she were having a baby - only in reverse. 

"YOU ARE HURTING ME SO BADLY! I CAN'T STAND IT! YOU ARE RUINING ME! I CAN 
FEEL MYSELF REIPPING INSIDE! YOU ARE GONNA MAKE IT SO'S I CAN'T HAVE NO 
BABIES! PLEASE! PUH-LEASE! MASTER! MASTER! STOP! OH PLEASE STOP! STOP JUST 
FOR A SECOND! GIVE ME JUST A SECOND WITHOUT THIS HURT! 

The man just laughed at her. 

The man not only clenched his gloved hand into a fist, but he began to twist 
his fist inside her. She screamed some more, her screams weaker now with her 
exhaustion. 

She gurgled in her throat. 

Tammy prayed that she could pass out so she would not have to suffer the 
pain any longer - a pain much worse than the bite of the ship she had felt. 
She was convulsing with the petrifying fear that the man was doing something 
very serious to her, harming her worse than he ever had before. 

Tammy heard that the man was wounding her in a way that would never heal. 
She then felt him do something ever crueler. He pulled his fist all the way 
out of her cunt while it was still tightly clenched. She could hear her 
pussy make a sickening popping sound as his knuckles pulled free. Then he 
punched his fist back inside. 

He pulled out. 

He punched back in. 

He pulled out. 

He punched back in. 

And the man did that until the little girl passed out. She lost 
consciousness after the world began to spin around her in the most 
fascinating way. 

She almost smiled as she realized her conscious mind was going to cease 
functioning. She couldn't take the pain anymore as her body refused the 
register it. 

She drifted off into the world where there was no pain. And she dreamed 
sweet dreams of solitude, alone with Jonah, and maybe a baby. 

She dreamed of a world free of chains and whips and fists. She dreamed of a 
world filled with passionate caressing and wet kissing. A world of bliss 
rather than of agony. But she was a nigger and she was always going to be a 
nigger, so her subconscious could dream all it wanted. As long as she was in 
this world God was testing her, and she would always no the humiliation of 
the chain, and the agony of the whip and the fist. 

Once Bernard Cornfield saw that his slave had passed out he had no further 
urge to fist fuck her dark meat poontang. It just wasn't any fun unless he 
could hear her scream with pain. He straightened his fingers and pulled his 
sticky gloved hand all the way out of her. 

H winced as he looked at the glove. It was covered with blood. 

Up in Annabelle Cornfield's private bathroom, the beautiful blonde woman was 
still sitting on her toilet making pee-pee. She was slightly sick to her 
stomach. 

She was actually angry at Bernard, but she knew there was nothing she could 
do to hurt him. He would no doubt be glad if she left. She could kill him 
and make it look like an accident. 

She considered this for a moment and decided it was too risky. She then 
found an easier route. She was going to beat him by using some of his own 
medicine. 

She was going to get the biggest buck of a slave her husband owned - Jones 
would know which one - and she was going to take that nigger boy down to 
Bernard's own torture chamber. 

Yes, she was going to bind that boy, the boy who was the best worker, the 
most valuable hunk of beefcake Bernard owned, and she was going to whip that 
boy. 

Then, she was going to arrange to have Bernard come down while she was in 
the middle of beating that boy until he couldn't stand up anymore. Then 
Bernard could see that she could play that little game too. Yes, she would 
get Jones to pick out one of the best workers - the stud with the biggest 
cock. When Bernard comes down to see what she was doing in the torture 
chamber she would tell him that his dick had never been big enough to 
satisfy her and that she liked to fuck the nigger boys, because they knew 
how to get her rocks off. Yes, that's what she would tell him. And even 
though it was a lie, she would tell him that she knew about this room all 
along. That would get him. She would tell him that she allowed him to have 
his fun with the female slaves and didn't care about it one way or another - 
because he had never been able to do anything to satisfy her sexually 
anyway. 

She would have to built up her courage. She didn't know how she would feel 
around a naked nigger boy. The truth of the matter was that it didn't really 
appeal to her very much. She wondered if she could even lift one of those 
whips her husband used down there. She wondered if perhaps she weren't 
biting off more than she could chew. But no, she was going to go through 
with it! She just needed a little time to build up her courage. She would 
show that disgusting husband of hers once for all. She was going to put 
Bernard in his place - and she fully intended on keeping him there. 

Things didn't work out as Annabelle had planned. First of all, almost two 
weeks passed before Bernard left for Atlanta and she built up her courage to 
summon Jones to fetch her an appropriate nigger boy from the fields. 

During that time Jonah had been nursing Tammy's cunt and both were pleased 
to find that - in spite of her fears - she had healed completely. 

Tammy had ever done some exercises in her cunt each time she squatted to pee 
so that the muscles inside her pussy would return to their former tightness. 

It had been a long time since Tammy's cunt had been in shape to fuck. She 
gave Jonah one or two blow jobs a night just to keep her man sane. There 
wasn't much he could do to help her except hug her and kiss her and tell her 
how much he loved her. 

It was the very morning that Annabelle decided to use Bernard's torture 
chamber for the first time, that Jonah and Tammy decided the little girl's 
fuck hole was ready to do its womanly duty once again. 

Tammy was sure she was ready to take Jonah's cock. Her loins and her pussy 
itself were telling her how badly she needed to be fucked. 

"How do you feel, baby?" 

"I'm already getting wet." 

"I wish we could fuck all day." 

"You have to go to work soon." 

"I know. We had better get at it." 

Getting at it was not difficult as the two of them were already naked in 
their straw bed together. They were sprawled on their sides facing one 
another. Tammy's cocoa colored nipples were throbbing against Jonah's 
hairless and extremely muscular chest. 

Jonah could feel the blood pumping into his cock, and the ache entering his 
balls. Tammy could feel his huge dick firming up against the front of her 
legs. 

Jonah placed his hands on Tammy's shoulders and easily rolled her over on 
her back. She opened her legs quickly, just before he rolled on top of her. 

For a moment the full weight of the black man's chest was on his woman's 
breasts. He was pressing her tits flat with the weight of his massive upper 
torso. 

He was making it very difficult for her to breathe. She could feel his long, 
long cock throbbing against the inside of her thigh. The tip was not far 
from the wet tissues of her pussy at all. She could feel the side of his 
scrotal sack on her legs also. 

Tammy wriggled her hands free and pushed on Jonah's shoulders to give him a 
gentle reminder that he was a little heavy on her. Her clit was swelling. 
Her inner cunt lips were opening and closing rhythmically in sync with her 
racing heartbeat as if they wanted to suck his cock right up between them 
like a living vacuum cleaner. Her juices were drooling out of her poontang. 
The scent of her cunt began to fill the room. Jonah watched the juices 
streaming from the little girl's dark slash and he couldn't help but think 
that they looked like so many melted pearls as they oozed like a slow 
waterfall down over her asshole and the rest of the crack of her ass, 
finally making a wet spot on their sole blanket; She began to rock back and 
forth. She had the balls and soles of her tiny feet flat on the bed and her 
knees were up in the air. She was squeezing at the man's slender hips with 
the insides of her thighs. 

The man realized that his upper torso was too much for her chest to take so 
he placed the palms of his hands flat on the bed on either side of Tammy's 
pretty head, the tips of his digits pushing under their chicken-feather 
pillow. 

He pressed down with his palms and straightened his elbows. He arched his 
back and lifted his chest so that only her pebble-like nipples were touching 
his stretched skin. 

He got up on his toes. 

He lifted his loins. 

She could feel his balls and the base of his cock shaft lifting away from 
her leg. He suspended himself in the air over her. Only the tip of his cock 
was throbbing against her inner thigh - an inch or two from her boiling 
honey pot. He supported the weight of his upper body with his right arm 
exclusively and reached back with his left to grip his cock. He squeezed his 
dick a couple of times and then used that huge black hand to guide his cock 
to her cunt. He rubbed her clit with his piss hole and she shivered with 
pleasure. 

"Oooooooooh, baby, you know what to do!" she said. 

"Easy does it, baby. We gotta long way to go," he said. 

He ran the tip of his prick up and down the entire length of her cunt slash. 
He did this mostly because it felt very good for both of them. 

But he also did it because he wanted to cover his cock head with her 
plentiful natural lubrication. He knew the initial penetration of her 
recently healed poontang would be easier if both her hole and his pole were 
all wet and slippery. He moved the head of his cock inside her inner cunt 
lips. He adjusted as tensed his ass. He jack-knifed at the waist a little 
bit. He began to push. The little girl could feel the intensity of the 
desire inside her cunt so close to the mouth of her womb growing and 
growing, Her lust was getting out of control and she was already moaning and 
groaning very loudly by the time the head of his dick pushed inside her. 

She could feel a sharp pang of pleasure as his cock head found her cervix. 
She felt his cock tip on the back wall of her cunt. He still had several 
inches left to push inside her. She still had to stretch to take him - just 
like always. Her pussy was a remarkable thing -and had made an impressive 
comeback very quickly. She could feel herself stretching length-wise and 
width-wise to take him. The shaft of his cock was so thick that the top of 
that ebony stalk was going to rub against her clit when he fucked her. When 
the hump became frenzied, little Tammy knew, her clit was going to be 
battered back and forth violently. 

He kept pushing even when his cock was all the way inside her. Her tits 
pressed against his chest once again, but this time she didn't mind. She 
rubbed between his extraordinarily broad shoulder blades with her delicate 
fingertips. She lifted her feet off the bed. She lifted her legs. 

She pointed her toes at the ceiling. 

She locked her knees in the straight position. 

She made a vee with her shapely gams. 

She then turned her toes inward and bent at the knees. Her knees pushed 
outward - almost in opposite directions, as she crossed her ankles and 
placed her calloused heels at the small of Jonah's back. 

In this manner the little girl clutched her man desperately with all four of 
her limbs at the same time. They were about to fuck as if it were their very 
last time. 

He gyrated his hips with his massive cock throbbing all the way inside her. 
He stretched her inner cunt lips and the inner walls of her pussy in every 
possible direction with that grinding motion. Her ass cheeks rolled up off 
the bed so that the weight of her feminine lower torso was on the small of 
her back. Finally the man began to pull back with his hips. With each inch 
he withdrew Tammy felt a larger void inside her, a void that craved to be 
filled to the brim with cock meat once again. He pulled out just as slowly 
as he had originally penetrated - just a fraction of an inch at a time. He 
didn't stop pulling back with his cock until only the head was still in. 

 CHAPTER SIX 

Jonah began to fuck the little girl with a smooth steady motion. At first 
the huge man wiggled his ass from side to side almost as much as he humped 
it up and down. He was making her lust grow very quickly - so quickly that 
Tammy was startled a little bit by the intensity of her sensations. It had 
been so long since she had been made love to by her man, and she had almost 
forgotten how good it felt. She wanted those sexy sensations his huge cock 
was giving her to ripple up and down her spine forever and ever. She wanted 
this loving fuck with her loving man to last for all eternity. 

"CCCCOOOOMMMMHIINNNNGGGG!!!!" Tammy Taylor screamed at the top of her lungs 
a fraction of a second after Jonah rammed his rod into her particularly 
hard. They could both smell the scent of her dark meat poontang richly in 
their flaring nostrils. They could both hear the funny sounds their fucking 
was making. Squish-squash. It sounded like that. 

Tammy was pleased to discover that her orgasm was short and sharp and spread 
through her completely, but also by the fact that, when it was over, it had 
done nothing to suppress her urge to fuck. 

Incredibly, the little black girl discovered that she wanted to hump Jonah 
more after her orgasm than she had before it - and she would not have even 
thought that was possible unless she had experienced it for herself. 

She knew that she was going to have no trouble coming more than once while 
the black stud's lance of masculinity was working in and out of her womanly 
love tunnel. Tammy was already starting to suspect that her loving man was 
going to make her come more times than she could possibly count. 

Jonah straightened out his fucking motion, so he was no longer wagging his 
tensed ass cheeks from side to side as much. He started into a rhythmic up 
and down motion, and Tammy loved the way she could feel her inner cunt lips 
being pushed and pulled by the turgid pole. 

Tammy could feel her clitoral foreskin being worked up and down across her 
love button - thus enhancing the pleasure she was feeling inside her cunt. 
Her urge to be fucked had caused her clitoris' role as the focal point of 
her womanly craving to be usurped. 

Her new center of feminine pleasure was deep inside her cunt close to the 
mouth of her womb, and she could feel the tip of Jonah's humongous cock 
ramming hard against that spot again and again, and again. She could feel 
her libido approaching its second orgasm of the fuck. 

She came for a second time - and this ecstasy was quickly followed by her 
third release of the ball. She couldn't help but notice that each fantastic 
orgasm was a little bit longer and a little bit more intense than the one 
before it. 

The little girl could tell that the wet spot caused from the juices dripping 
from her cunt on the blanket that covered their straw bed beneath her ass 
was getting larger with each passing second. 

She could feel the tip of the man's cock hammering into her lower belly. She 
remembered the very fist time Jonah fucked her at that moment, and she 
remembered how confused she had been by her own enjoyment. Until she met 
Jonah she had not entirely been aware that she was supposed to get off on 
sex. But he had done things for her that her imagination would never have 
been able to conjure in a million years. 

His cock had touched her in places where she had never been touched before - 
and more. His cock had touched her internal areas in places that she didn't 
even know she had places she would have sworn up and down could not be 
reached from the outside unless she had experienced it for herself. 

He had taught her where the core of her womanly pleasure really was - and he 
had made her feel as if she were impaled like a butterfly on a pin. There 
were times when the little nigger girl really did think his cock was going 
to push all the way through her. She wouldn't have been surprised if the tip 
of his cock had come pushing out her mouth! 

She could feel her third orgasm - and at that point the pretty little girl 
stopped counting. There was no point. Numbers no longer mattered to Tammy 
Taylor. They were irrelevant. 

Only the intensity of her sensations mattered in her reeling brain. She felt 
as if she were weightless floating up in the sky with the clouds. Tammy felt 
as if she were going for a ride on a magic carpet. She could feel her sense 
of time being shattered. 

Each second seemed like a minute - each minute like an hour. She was 
convinced that Jonah had better hurry up and come or else he would be late 
for, work - when the truth of the matter was that they had not been fucking 
for nearly as long as she thought. 

She began to snap off her orgasms very close to one another. Frighteningly 
close. It got to the point where Tammy was having trouble telling her 
orgasms apart because of their proximity. It got to the point where the 
first spasm of one come coincided with the last convulsion of the previous 
feminine release, so that they were indistinguishable. 

Tammy was thrilled to discover that she felt more like she was having one 
continuous orgasm - rather than a bunch of smaller conies strung closely 
together, which happened to be the case. 

Tammy's eyes were closed so tightly that her lids were wrinkled and her 
black eyelashes were crushed against her high cheekbones. She was thrashing 
her head wildly from side to side with her mouth opening and closing 
erratically. She worked her jaw from side to side anxiously as if she were 
trying to relieve cramps in the hinges at the sides of her gorgeous little 
face. 

"I CAN'T STOP COMING! I CAN'T STOP COMING! JONAH! JONAH! I LOVE YOU SO MUCH! 
YOU ARE FUCKING MY PUSSY INSIDE OUT LOVER! YOU ARE TURNING ME INSIDE OUT! I 
CAN SEE BRIGHT FLASHES OF LIGHT GOING OFF IN FRONT OF MY EYES! IT'S TOO 
MUCH! I CANT TAKE IT ANYMORE!" 

Tammy thought that new plateau of pleasure would last forever - but it has 
been said that all good things must come to an end, and the same thing is 
true of even the most fantastic fucks. She knew, however, that the fuck 
would not end until Jonah ended it with the spilling of his silver seed deep 
inside her lower belly, well past her dimpled cervix. 

Her internal cunt muscles gripped and clutched and tugged and squeezed at 
the shaft of the man's cock each time he withdrew. Her inner pussy felt as 
if it were filled with a thousand little fingers - and Jonah felt that each 
and every one of those fingers had been put there especially to pleasure his 
dick. 

The pretty little black girl felt ready to pass out from pleasure - just as 
she had passed out from pain when Bernard Cornfield punched his gloved fist 
inside her tight little pussy again and again. 

Then the man felt the tickle of sexual anxiety at the base of his cock 
growing into a fireball. He could tell the end was near. He could tell that 
he and Tammy Taylor had reached the homestretch of the fuck. 

Jonah immediately shifted his hips into high gear and then into overdrive - 
moving his tensed and pressed together ass cheeks up and down so fast that 
they were a blur to the naked eye. 

He could feel extra blood pumping into both the head and the shaft of his 
cock. He could feel his tool of masculinity becoming urgently turgid. He 
could feel the throbbing head of his dick ready to burst from the internal 
pressure of his hot pumping blood. His piss hole was opening and closing in 
a frenzied manner - anxious to puke up his nigger spunk. 

He then rammed the entire length of his cock into the little girl and this 
time he kept it there. She could feel his humongous scrotal sack throbbing 
against her tight little asshole. 

She could feel his kinky pubic patch pressing and grinding against her 
femininely sloping and practically bald mound. She could feel the tip of his 
cock getting ready to spew the fuck juice somewhere incredibly deep inside 
her diminutive lower torso. He stretched her pussy further than it seemed 
like a pussy should be able to stretch - yet she did not feel a twinge of 
pain. Her flesh was always as elastic as Jonah wanted it to be. She was 
convinced that she would not have bled a single drop if Jonah had been the 
one to fist fuck her. She thought this in spite of the fact that her lover's 
hand was a good deal bigger than her master's. 

She could feel herself snapping off her umpteenth come at that very moment - 
and she was pleased to find that her final come of the fuck was - by far - 
her longest and her most intense. Tammy Taylor knew why this was true. 

She knew that her pleasure reached a new pitch at precisely that moment 
because she and her man were coming simultaneously. She felt as if there 
were only orgasm in that shack at that moment. It did not belong to Jonah 
and it did not belong to Tammy - but rather they shared its pleasure 
equally. She could feel them shivering and screaming together. Indeed, they 
sang out a duet in homage to their common bliss. She could feel his jism 
violently spewing against the stretched back wall of her inner cunt. He 
filled her with cream. 

Then the passion was through. 

"Ooooh, baby," Jonah said. 

"Yeah. You know what?" 

"What's that, honey?" 

"You keep getting better and better." 

"I was about to say the same about you." 

"You know how many times I come?'' "How many?" 

"About a thousand and ten!" 

"That's a lot. I only came once - but it was a big one." 

"It doesn't seem fair that you only get to come once." 

"Don't you worry about that. I'm getting mine and plenty more." 

"I'm glad you feel that way. You have to go." 

"In a few minutes." 

"But the master?" 

"He's always late in the morning. I just want to lie here with my cock 
inside you. I want to feel myself getting smaller inside your pussy. What an 
amazing pussy!" 

"Why do you say that?" 

"I was just thinking of the condition Master Cornfield left it in and now it 
seems as good as new. I didn't hurt you when I was fucking really hard, did 
I?" 

"Oh no. No pain. Nothing but pleasure." 

"I'm glad." 

Finally, after Jonah's cock had deflated to complete flaccidity, allowing 
the little girl's pussy muscles to completely relax for the first time in 
what felt like ages, he pulled his limp dick all the way out of her. 

His cock did not get that much shorter and skinnier when it deflated. It 
just softened - and of course his ebony tool of masculinity lost its ability 
to defy the laws of gravity with his appeasement. 

He rolled over on his back, stared at the thatched roof, and took a deep 
breath. He then lifted himself to his feet and found his cloth trousers. He 
pulled his pants on and tied his rope belt tightly. It was a very hot day 
and he would wear no shirt in the fields to cover his huge chest and back. 
He slipped his feet into beat up old shoes one of the Negro cobblers had 
made for him. Tammy stood, still naked, and they hugged standing up. They 
kissed sensuously on the lips for a long time and then - in a flash - Jonah 
was out the door. Tammy had to report to the house in an hour herself, but 
she figured she had some time to lie around and savor her afterglow. The sun 
was just rising. 

Jonah had been working for an hour - long after Cornfield had checked to see 
that everyone was on time for work, but arriving late himself - when he 
received a message from one of the small nigger boys who worked with the 
woman. The boys did domestic chores with the women and the small girls and 
weren't moved out to the fields until they sprouted hair on their balls, at 
which time hard labor was theorized to keep their minds off dirty nigger 
business. The message was that Mrs. Cornfield wanted to see him in the lobby 
of the big house. Jonah was confused. The blonde woman had never shown any 
interest in the black bucks before. He had received calls at other 
plantations like this one - and it always meant the white lady of the house 
was looking to fuck some black cock meat. Jonah had been on a plantation 
once where a slave got castrated when the woman's white body spit out a 
brown baby. Jonah had fucked the woman himself and was afraid he would get 
blamed. But when the woman was asked who the father of the baby was by her 
husband she had pointed her finger at another, an innocent man perhaps. 
Jonah's ass had been saved, but he had been sold shortly thereafter 
nonetheless. Jonah had a thing for white cunt. A nigger could get shot for 
even looking wrong at a white woman. That was because the white men knew 
their wives all lusted after the nigger boys and they were scared. Jonah had 
thought about Annabelle Cornfield in ways he knew he wasn't supposed to - 
but he had always figured that as long as he kept his fantasies to himself 
there was no harm to them. Now she was calling for him. 

Annabelle had just come back upstairs after her first journey down into the 
torture chamber and her knees were feeling a little shaky. 

She knew exactly when her husband would be leaving Atlanta to return home. 
She would time everything so he would come into the house and be sent by 
Jones immediately to the basement, Where he would find his wife with the 
naked slave boy, his back all torn from the lashes of the whip she would be 
yielding. 

That was the plan. Things didn't work out that way. Bernard did his part. He 
arrived home right on time. It was Jonah who botched Annabelle's plan. 

Jonah thought maybe he should stop in the shack and get a shirt before he 
went to the big house. He did this, Tammy having already reported for 
domestic duties in the kitchen. He showed up in the front lobby with an 
extremely nervous expression on his face. Annabelle took one look at him and 
her mouth fell open. Her eyes opened so wide that the whites were visible 
all the way around her baby blue pupils. 

Yes, Jonah was a lot bigger than she thought he would be. It occurred to 
Annabelle that she had never looked at one of the nigger boys up close 
before - at least not those big bucks who worked their backs out in the 
fields. She knew the old black gentlemen who worked in the stables. She 
always viewed the black boys in the fields as one would watch a flock of 
animals grazing out in a field. They were actually quite nice to look at, 
but she had never had the urge to stroke and pet one. Not until now. She 
could feel a tingling between her legs, which actually took her by surprise. 
She was ashamed of herself. It occurred to her that she might not know what 
the hell she was doing - but she decided that she had gone too far to turn 
back at this point so she ordered Jonah down into the torture chamber. 

"Bernard has such a marvelous time whipping the little girls that I thought 
I would whip me a nigger boy, and you are the lucky one," she said. 

Jonah winced. He could feel his face getting hot. He had suffered so many 
indignities, and he had suffered with Tammy through hers, that he was close 
to the breaking point. He looked at that gorgeous blonde as they reached the 
bottom of the stairs, and he could feel his anger and his lust mixing 
together, until the two emotions blended and became inseparable. 

The woman told Jonah to stand beneath two chains and cuffs that were 
dangling from the ceiling attached to a pulley. She lowered the cuffs and 
forced the man to put his hands in them before locking them shut. She then 
cranked the pulley again so that his arms lifted over his head. He cranked 
the pulley until his elbows were locked in the straight position and his 
shoulders felt as if they were going to be torn from the sockets. He had to 
get up on his toes a little bit to relieve the pressure in his shoulders. He 
could feel the muscles at the backs of his legs starting to ache and he 
could tell that his pain was going to get a hell of a lot worse before it 
got better. Annabelle could no longer ignore her desire or her curiosity. 
She began to stroke the nigger's back, running her fingertips lightly over 
his thick slabs of muscle. She walked around to the other side of his and 
touched his chest. She fingered his nipples. She reached behind him and 
rubbed the palm of her hand over his buttocks. Did she dare touch his 
privates? Yes she did! She reached under his balls and took them in her 
palm. She squeezed his lemons and she could see that his cock was beginning 
to get hard. 

She pulled her hand away immediately. 

"How dare you allow yourself to get horny when I touch you. You could be 
shot for having those sort of thoughts about me, nigger boy!" Annabelle 
said. 

But his cock continued to grow and there was a new expression on Jonah's 
face - an expression of defiance. With his anger came a new strength - an 
almost super-human strength. He could feel it building up inside him - ready 
to bust loose at any second. 

The woman went to the whip display. She looked at the lashes and she could 
see that they were all too big for her to possibly handle. Then the 
beautiful blonde saw the perfect thing. 

A riding crop. 

A horse whip. 

She had used such whips while riding and she took the crop down off the wall 
and ran it over the palms of her hands. She wondered how long Bernard had 
owned this little beauty. 

It was made of East Asian bamboo and the finest black leather. She moved to 
Jonah's rear and quickly brought that horse whip down as hard as she could 
across both of his ass cheeks at the same time. He grunted with pain and she 
could see his entire body jerk with the pain as many of his thick muscles 
suddenly tensed up on him involuntarily. 

She hit him again and again with the whip and she was pleased with herself. 
She began to laugh and once she started laughing she could not stop. She 
laughed until there were tears in her eyes. She gave her arm a rest. She 
didn't want to wear herself out before she had a chance to show off her 
whipping form to her shocked husband. She walked around to the front of 
Jonah once again and took his huge cock in her hand. She could feel a steady 
pulse in her poontang and she could tell that she was lubricating herself in 
between her legs. 

She squeezed his dick until it started to grow. She had a cruel thought. She 
brought the riding crop down right across the top of his stiffening cock 
shaft as hard as she could. Tears welled in Jonah's eyes because of the pain 
this blow spawned. His anger became intense, and the expression on his face 
implied that steam would soon be pouring from his ears. 

The black man concentrated all of his energy on the chains and cuffs of 
steel that held his arms stringently over his head. He pulled down with his 
arms, even though that made those cuffs dig deeply into his wrist flesh. 
Annabelle could tell he was trying to free himself but she just laughed at 
him and struck his cock with the riding crop again. Then her face when pale. 

The chains snapped over the man's head. He had broken the chains with his 
raw strength. His arms lowered to his side. He was free. His stinging cock 
once again began to grow. It was growing quickly now and he knew he would 
soon have a full-fledged boner. 

"That's too much, ma'am. Now I'm afraid I'm gonna have to give it to you and 
give it to you good," Jonah said. He grabbed the white woman by the arm, 
digging his fingertips into her flesh hard enough to pucker and bruise it. 

He pushed one hand over her mouth so she could not scream and he told her 
that he would strangle her to death if she made a peep. Bernard was due any 
minute - and Annabelle, in spite of the ache in her cunt -prayed that 
Bernard would show up and save her before she suffered a fate worse than 
death! 

With Jonah's free hand he ripped the woman's pretty dress right off of her 
body. He grabbed the riding crop from her hand and whipped her ass twice. He 
wheeled her around and whipped her right breast. He then tossed the horse 
whip aside carelessly - without even bothering to turn his head and see 
where it went. He could hear it, however, scuttling across the floor toward 
the far corner of the torture chamber. 

He ripped off her panties and then tripped her with a big foot so that she 
fell onto the bare wood floor very hard. He was on top of her like a cat and 
she could feel the entire length of his prick pinned between their lower 
bellies. She could feel the base of his cock pulsating against the center of 
her golden pubic patch. She could feel the tip of his dick throbbing in 
between her concave bellybutton and her tits. She knew that her pussy was 
going to have to stretch a lot more than it did when Bernard fucked her. She 
was panicky. Her eyes were wild. 

Inside. 

She tried to struggle but he bounced the back of her head against the wooden 
floor until she was groggy and still. He then lifted from her so he could 
use his hand to guide the tip of his ebony pole toward that pink and blonde 
cunt. 

He pushed the head of his cock against her cunt and she opened up for him a 
hell of a lot easier than he had counted on. She was downright soupy down 
there - and Jonah hadn't anticipated that at all. He felt himself stretching 
her open, pushing and pushing until the entire length of his cock was inside 
her. He then began to fuck. 

There was nothing subtle about the way Jonah fucked. 

He did not start out slow and slowly increase the tempo. 

He fucked the wife of his master as hard and fast as he could right from the 
very first stroke and the woman could tell that he was making her bleed 
inside her cunt. 

She let out a cry of pain. 

Then a cry of revulsion. 

Then a cry of surprise. 

Then a moan of pleasure. 

She began to move with the fuck and he could feel the tension going out of 
her. She was getting into it. His cock was slippery and moving in and out of 
the white woman's stingy cunt with greater ease than he would have thought 
possible. He began to ride her high so that his cock would work her clitoral 
foreskin up and down across her love button. Yes, he made her come with that 
huge cock of his and she was screaming with pleasure when the basement door 
opened. Jones, thinking he was doing what the woman wanted him to do, let 
the master downstairs. He was furious when he saw what Jonah was doing to 
his wife. He pulled his gun out of his holster and pointed it at Jonah's 
head. The black man stopped fucking. The sight of that gun killed his hard 
on immediately. Jonah pulled out of the woman. 

Annabelle wasn't about to admit that she had been enjoying herself. She 
began to scream at her husband hysterically. 

"HE RAPED ME! BERNARD! HE HURT ME SO BAD! HE CAME IN THE HOUSE AND HE 
DRAGGED ME DOWN HERE AND HE TORE MY CEOTHES RIGHT OFF MY BODY AND HE THREW 
ME DOWN AND HE JUMPED ON TOP OF ME AND THEN HE MADE ME DO IT WITH HIM! OH 
BERNARD! HE HURT ME SO VERY BADLY! I FEAR I WILL NEVER BE THE SAME AGAIN FOR 
AS LONG AS I LIVE!" 

"That true, Jonah?" Bernard asked. 

"No, sir." 

"You calling my wife a liar?" 

"Yes, master." 

"Boy, you know what a gelding is?" 

"Yes, master." 

"Boy, that's what you gonna be in a minute. Now I see you busted some 
chains. How did he bust the chains?" 

 CHAPTER SEVEN 

There always come times in every man's life when he doesn't know what the 
fuck to do. This was one of those times for Bernard Cornfield. 

He looked at the huge black slave, who was scared shitless, and he looked at 
his wife, who was puffy about the lips and wet about the cunt. 

He looked at those broken chains, and he looked at the welts on the backside 
of the slave. He knew the slave was telling the truth and that his wife was 
lying. He was torn as to what to do. He knew that - to save face - he was 
going to have to punish the slave, even though his wife had tormented him 
into the attack. 

He knew he was going to have to punish the slave in spite of the fact that 
it was fairly clear his towheaded mate had been thoroughly enjoying that 
huge black prick. Bernard told his wife to get upstairs and to clean herself 
up as much as she could. And he wasn't kidding about this. He told her to 
move quickly to lessen the chances of anyone seeing her in that condition. 
Bernard Cornfield then ordered several of his servants to come down into the 
torture room and help him handle Jonah, because he correctly assumed that 
the big buck was going to struggle before he could be bound once again. 

The huge black man was going to have to be bound with thicker chains, since 
he was obviously too strong to be held in place by any of the steel links 
already down there. One of the servants was sent to fetch the strongest 
chains on the plantation. 

Bernard could feel the cold sweat pouring off his body as the men, both 
black and white, conspired before his very eyes to ruin his manhood. His 
fuck of Annabelle Cornfield was to be his last. 

Jonah thought about Tammy, and what would happen to her now that he would be 
no good to her any longer. He thought about the torments that his woman 
would have to go through. He knew that would be just as severe as they had 
been - and maybe more severe, only now he wouldn't be around to sooth her 
wounds after she returned from a session in Cornfield's torture chamber. 

At that moment, upstairs in the Cornfield Mansion, Tammy Taylor was busy 
scrubbing the floors. She was aware that there was a scurry of activity 
involving the torture chamber. 

Tammy saw Annabelle emerge from the downstairs horror room looking half 
dressed and quite disheveled. She saw the slaves running up to fetch thick 
chains and then returning to the chamber. 

Tammy wondered what was up. She returned to her work - never once suspecting 
that any of this had anything to do with Jonah. As far as Tammy knew only 
the female slaves were abused down in the torture chamber. 

It would never have occurred to the pretty little black girl in a million 
years that it was her man, her lover, who was about to face the worst 
torture of all. 

Tammy was scrubbing very hard at the dining room floor when she heard the 
howl of pain from down below, an animalistic cry of agony. 

She thought it was the sound of Jonah's strangled voice - but she told 
herself it was just her overworked imagination. Tammy was in another part of 
the house when the burlap sack containing Jonah's body was carried upstairs 
and immediately out of the house. 

The sack was thrown onto a big bonfire that had been built and the smoke 
that rose into the air was all that was left of Tammy's love. That is, 
except for the special part of Jonah, which Bernard had decided to keep in a 
box. 

It was the following day and Tammy Taylor had been summoned down to the 
torture chamber. She had been weeping all night because Jonah had not shown 
up at the shack they shared. 

Tammy thought that Jonah had spent the night with another woman, and her 
mind was on her lover, even though she knew she was about to face yet 
another harsh torture session in the chamber in the bowels of the Cornfield 
mansion. 

She had stripped herself naked and was standing near the torture table when 
Bernard Cornfield approached her, holding the box in front of him. 

The evil white man removed the lid from the box and invited Tammy to look 
inside. The little girl could feel all of the blood draining from her face 
and she instantly felt dizzy. 

Her coffee colored skin became slick with cold sweat and she could feel her 
stomach becoming ill. She saw what was in the box - and she knew she would 
never be able to erase that ugly memory from the gray matter within her 
skull for as long as she lived. 

"Do you see what is in the box, little nigger cunt? That's right, it's the 
cock and the bloody balls of your man, your lover. I had to cut them off. 
Unfortunately the man bled to death but you can still have the part of him 
that you liked best. Here, take the box. It is yours. A present from me to 
you. I want you to keep it for all times, as a souvenir. A memento of the 
good times you had with him. You see, he stepped out of line. That nigger 
boy went too far and he had to be punished. I didn't want to do it, but I 
had to do it, because we can't have nigger boys around here messing with the 
white women, especially when the white woman involved is my wife. Your 
lover, the man you loved, really was an animal, you see. He raped my wife 
and he had to lose his manhood. He had to lose his life. Before I had to 
share you with him, nigger cunt. But those days are over. Now you are mine 
alone, and you will live only to serve my cock and my whip." 

Tammy thought that she was asleep having some sort of horrible nightmare. 
She thought of pinching herself to see if she was really awake - but that 
was not necessary. 

She felt pain. 

The pain was real. 

Too real. 

She was awake, all right! 

"What? You don't want the box with Jonah's cock and balls in it? I am 
surprised. I would think you would want to shove it inside yourself at 
night, just so you could remember what it was like when he fucked you. Very 
well, you refuse my gift. I will have it burned, just the way I had the rest 
of that nigger boy burned. But you will get a present from me, because I am 
in the mood to give you one. I will give you a present that you will be 
unable to refuse!!!" 

Tammy was ordered to get on her back on the torture table and she was 
quickly bound into place in a spread-eagled position. She had been through 
this many times before. 

She had a feeling that the man intended on hurting her and humiliating her 
worse than he ever had before - but she really didn't mind. 

She felt tremendous guilt. 

The little girl figured she was responsible for her lover's death when you 
got right down to it. She had told him about the horrible ways she had been 
mistreated down in that torture chamber. 

She knew that it was her own pain, which Jonah had shared as if it were his 
own, which had sent him down to that torture chamber to rape Annabelle 
Cornfield. 

She had no idea that it had been Annabelle who had constructed the entire 
situation, and that Annabelle was responsible for her man's demise. 

Tammy thought it was she who was to blame - and she felt she was deserving 
of all of the punishment Bernard Cornfield could dish out, no matter how 
sadistic and severe. 

Tammy was afraid, but her fear was tempered by her guilt. She resigned 
herself to the agony she knew to be impending. She resigned herself to the 
pain she knew she would have to suffer as long as her mortal soul remained 
on the earth. 

Tammy began to wish that Bernard Cornfield would just kill her and end her 
miserable existence. She knew that this would not be the case, however. 

Tammy, for all of her ignorance, was a keen judge of human nature, and she 
knew that Bernard enjoyed her pain too much to kill her. She would be no 
good to him when she was dead. 

He wanted her alive and kicking. 

Able to scream. 

Able to feel agony. 

"Yes, because you are now mine and mine alone, I am going to give you a fine 
piece of gold jewelry. You should feel honored, little nigger cunt, because 
no slave of mine has EVER been allowed to wear such a piece of jewelry," 
Bernard Cornfield said. He remained on one side of the torture chamber, so 
that Tammy Taylor would be able to watch his movements at all times. 

Bernard went to a cabinet across from the foot of the wooden slab torture 
table and pulled out a tiny gold ring - which looked like an earring worn by 
woman with pierced ears. 

"This is a nipple ring," Bernard Cornfield said holding the ring up for 
Tammy to see in between his right thumb and forefinger. "But, of course, 
before you can wear it, I will have to make a hole in your nipple. I wan you 
to relax and reflect a moment on just how much pain you will experience 
while I am making the hole in your nipple, mutilating your feminine 
erection, so that you will never be the same again. 

"Pleas ... no!" Tammy whimpered. Her heart felt as if it were pumping its 
way right up into her throat - as if it were sooner or later going to work 
its way right out of her mouth. 

Her lips were parted and trembling. Her nipples were erect with fear. 
Bernard was pleased that the little girl's chocolate colored nipples were 
stiff - because this would make them much easier to pierce. 

Her tits were so firm and fill with her sexy youth, that they hardly 
flattened at all, in spite of the fact that she was on her back and the 
force of gravity was directly against them. 

The man moved to the side of the torture table. He placed the ring and the 
needle on the table beneath the little girl's arm. He grabbed her right 
nipple with his thumb and forefinger - as he had decided that this was the 
feminine erection he wanted most to pierce. 

He pinched the nipple. 

He pulled at it. 

He pulled the cocoa colored rosebud until the skin all around it was 
stretched taut and the whole breast was made to look pointier then usual. 

The man released his grip on the nipple and allowed to snap back into place. 
He was going to make the little girl wait for her agony for a moment longer. 
He was smart enough and sadistic enough to know that the dread Tammy Taylor 
was experiencing at that moment was an intricate part of the torture. 

He took the long, thick needle over to one of the lit lamps on the wall. He 
removed the lamps cover and held the needle over the open flame. 

When the needle was very hot, almost glowing with heat, he returned to the 
table. The tip of the needle had become very hot, while the base, where the 
man held it, was still cool enough to not burn his fingers. 

The sadistic white man then tugged the nipple once again with the thumb and 
forefinger on his left hand, while he held the hot needle in a similar 
fashion in his other hand. 

Bernard Cornfield ran the sharp tip of the needle all around the nipple - as 
if he were looking for a suitable spot to break the skin. The little girl 
concentrated on taking slow deep breaths to keep herself calm, but she found 
that all of her efforts were futile. She was scared shitless, and she could 
barely breath at all because of her intense fear. 

The man had stopped moving the tip of the thick needle all together and 
there was a pause, which seemed like an eternity to Tammy, because her fear 
was severely elongating her sense of time. One one thousand, two one 
thousand, three one thousand and then -" 

The sadistic white man stabbed with the needle, flicking his wrist. He drove 
the sharp tip right into the little girl's dark, hypersensitive nipple 
flesh. The man could have pushed the sharp needle all the way through the 
little girl's nipple if he had wanted to. But he didn't want to. 

He was going to pierce her nipple slowly. 

He wanted Tammy's pain to linger. 

He pushed the needle through her nipple only a fraction of an inch at a time 
as the little girl felt all of the muscles in her diminutive form tensing up 
on her involuntarily and simultaneously. She strained to arch her back and 
lift her tensed black ass cheeks away from the torture table, but her 
stringent bondage prevented her from doing so. 

He pushed and he pushed, holding himself back, because indeed, there was a 
part of the white man that wanted to stab the needle through that nipple as 
fast as he could also. But he held himself back and summoned up all of his 
patience and all of his willpower. 

Many seconds after the needle first sunk into the little girl's nipples 
flesh he could finally see the skin on the other side of the feminine 
erection pushing outward. 

Tammy didn't want to watch herself being mutilated in this fashion - but 
somehow she could not help herself. Some part of morbid curiosity forced her 
to watch what was happening. 

Not only did she watch, but she watched with eyes wide and unblinking. 
Indeed, the little black girl did not blink until her eyes burned and felt 
full of sand. 

And the pain. 

The pain was indescribable. 

The pain was beyond words. 

Her scream of pain was a strangled gurgle, and she remembered the howl of 
pain she had heard while scrubbing the floors, and she knew that this had 
been the last cry of her lover - and now she heard her own voice, sounding 
far, far away, and it reminded her of him and the pain they shared - and she 
once again prayed to a merciless God whom she had worshipped for so long. 
She prayed once again that her white master would kill her - so that she and 
Jonah could once again be together, this time forever, this time without 
torment. 

There was surprisingly little blood as the sadistic white man pierced the 
little girl's nipple. Only a droplet or two of crimson liquid oozed from the 
wound he had opened. 

There was a popping noise as the tip of the needle poked through the other 
side of the nipple. Now there were two wounds, one on either side of the 
nipples, but neither of them bled very much. She half expected, in her 
ignorance, to see milk come from those wounds. 

The man did not pull the needle back out right away. He did not want to hole 
he had opened up to close up on him immediately. He worked the needle back 
and forth through the bloody opening he had created. The nipple was a flap 
of brown flesh running up and down the needle. He did this for what seemed 
like forever before finally pulling the needle all the way out. He used a 
cloth to wipe the blood away and then picked up the little gold ring, which 
was still sitting on the wooden torture table beneath the little girl's arm. 

He inserted the ring in her nipple. 

He twisted it and then locked it shut. 

"Very pretty," he said. 

Tears streamed down Tammy's face. 

 CHAPTER EIGHT 

"Now, my precious little nigger cunt, I am going to release you from your 
bondage, but for only a moment. I do not want you to think that your torture 
session if through. Oh my, that would be quite an error on your part if you 
thought that. You are far from through. I am going to fuck you right up the 
ass as you have never been fucked before, my precious dark meat. But I am 
above getting nigger shit on my cock, so I am going to flush out and purge 
your bowels before I brutally bugger you," Bernard Cornfield said. The 
little black girl could tell that the man was getting quite horny by the 
huge throbbing bulge that had formed in the crotch of his increasingly tight 
trousers. 

He unlocked the cuffs that held the little girl's wrists and ankles in 
place. In a uncommon moment of tenderness, the sadistic whit man even 
massaged the little girl's hands and feet to make sure that the flow of 
blood was circulating properly once again into her fingers and her toes. The 
little girl could see that her pierced nipple was grossly swollen. It ached 
and throbbed, but the sharpness of the pain she had experiences while the 
needle was actually pushed through her nipple had faded. Her nervous system 
could only register so much pain before it turned off and numbed. 

He helped her to her feet and led her to the far corner of the torture 
chamber. The chains connected to the pulley - the chains Jonah had broken 
while he was being whipped by Annabelle Cornfield - had been replaced. The 
little girl was forced to stand beneath these cuffs. He ordered her to stand 
on the bare wood floor with her tiny feet shoulder width apart. He made her 
raise her arms high over her head. 

The man cranked the crank that lowered the cuffs. He attached the little 
girl's wrists inside the toothed cuffs tightly. Just when the sensation had 
returned to her tiny hands it was forced out again by her renewed bondage. 

He returned to the crank and lifted the cuffs, straightening the little 
girl's arms over her head, locking her elbows, and putting painful pressure 
on her shoulders. Indeed, there was a time - when Tammy Taylor thought her 
shoulders where going to be ripped right out of their sockets. 

"Now I want you to lower your head and bend forward at the wait," he said. 

"But I can't. My body is stretched straight. I can't bend over," she cried. 

Fresh tears of anguish were welling up in the little girl's eyes. 

"But you must," he said and placed his hand on the back of her head. 

"ARGH!" she screamed as he pushed her head down. The pressure on her 
shoulders was greater than before and she expected to hear the cracking of 
her bones at any second. 

The keep the girl jack-knifed at the waist the sadistic white man tied a 
leather strap around her waist and the back of her neck. She could feel 
unspeakable pain filling her already exhausted nervous-system. 

The handsome white man then went to the cabinet where he had previously 
fetched the ring the needle. He found in there an enema bag, such as those 
used in the old southern hospitals to help old people who were constipated 
take a healthy dump. 

He left eh torture chamber and filled the bag with water. He returned and 
attached the bag, now full, to the top of the metal pole mounted on wheels. 
The bag looked a lot like a hot water bottle but it had a long dangling hose 
to keep the water from flowing out prematurely. The nozzle at the end of the 
hose was made of carved ivory. It had several holes at its tip for the water 
to flow through. The nozzle - which was long enough to be appropriately 
called a syringe, was thickest at the tip and skinniest at the base. 

The thickest part of the syringe was designed to fit deep inside the little 
girl's ass, past her sphincter muscle, into her colon. 

Her asshole would squeeze at the skinny base of the nozzle - thus blocking 
the thick tip inside. Tammy could tell right away that it would take a sharp 
tug to get the nozzle back out of her asshole once it was deeply inserted. 

The man had filled the large bag to the very brim with cool water. There 
were man quarts of water in the enema bag, much more water than Tammy would 
have thought could possibly fit inside her bowels. 

In a pathetically weak voice the little girl asked her white master how much 
of the water she was expected to take inside herself. He told her that she 
would not be allowed to release a single drop of the water until the bag was 
completely empty. 

Tammy realized right away that it was going to take all of her courage and 
willpower to hold the water inside. Somehow she was going to have to learn - 
and learn fast - how to tense her sphincter muscle while relaxing at the 
same time. The man told her what he would do to her if she released the 
water prematurely, and she shuddered. She wanted to dir quickly - but the 
torturous method of death the man described to her at that moment was so 
horrible that she could not desire it. She knew she would have to take all 
of the water up inside her ass, no matter how much she and to stretch - no 
matter how severe the pain became. 

Tammy could feel the man's soft hand running over her ass cheeks - which by 
this time were permanently marked by the man's savage lash. 

He rubbed her ass cheeks gingerly at first - and then massage the flesh. He 
dug his fingertips right into the crack of her ass. She could feel the tip 
of his middle finger - this longest finger - touching her frightened 
asshole. He pulled her ass cheeks apart as far as they would go. He didn't 
stop separating her dark buttocks until the skin in the crack was stretched 
taut. He had the base of the enema's hose in his other hand. He pushed the 
blunt tip of the ivory syringe in the cleavage between her spread buns. He 
ran the tip up and down the crack of the little slave girl's ass and she 
shivered and moaned a little bit each time the ivory made direct contact 
with the mucous membranes at the mouth of the rectum. He stopped moving the 
syringe when it was poised at the center of the asterisk of her nether eye. 
He adjusted the nozzle so that it was at the appropriate angle for deep-anal 
penetration. Then, with a sudden snap of his strong wrist, he drove the 
syringe deep inside her ass. She grunted as if all of the air had been 
knocked from her lungs. 

Tammy could feel the tip of the syringe pushing right up into her colon. She 
could feel her anus involuntarily squeezing at the base of the nozzle - just 
like it was supposed to. The man paused and slowly counted to ten silently. 
He then removed the clamp from the hose that prevented the water from 
flowing. She could feel the cool water rushing into her ass - and her entire 
body jerked as if she had just been struck by a bolt of lightening. 

The water was cold compared to the heat of her inner ass, and she shivered 
violently as she felt as if her body temperature were lowering. She felt as 
if her body temperature lowered a good teen degrees in a matter of seconds. 
Her back teeth began to chatter instantly. 

Her first instinct - naturally enough - was to shit the water right back 
out, but she knew very well that that would be a big mistake. She tensed her 
asshole. She relaxed her colon as much as she could. She could feel the 
pressure inside her bowels getting a little bit worse with each passing 
second. 

Time dragged. 

In spite of the fact that she felt very cold, she could feel beads of hot 
sweat forming in a straight line across her brow. That brow, which was 
usually very smooth, was not deeply furrowed with her tension. Her back 
teeth were clenched together so tightly by this time that the muscles at the 
sides of her pretty face were starting to protrude. The muscles in her legs 
felt as if they were becoming increasingly weak. Her knees no longer support 
the weight of her body. Her knees were shaking. She felt as if her feet 
would no longer support the weight of her body, and this scared her also. If 
her legs gave out she knew the bones in her arms and shoulders would snap 
like a pair of breadsticks. 

 CHAPTER NINE 

Her belly was bloating grossly outward and her lips were stretched back over 
her teeth as the last few drops of cold water ran into her ass. 

The man fetched a porcelain bedpan from the cabinet and held it in his left 
hand. He moved to the little girl's rear. He had to pull the plug and get 
the bedpan in place quickly. 

He knew there was no way the little girl would be able to hold the water 
inside herself once the ivory plug had been pulled from her tight butt. 

He pulled the plug out of the little girl's ass quickly, forcing the muscle 
to stretch outward from the rest of the cleavage between her ass cheeks for 
a moment before snapping back into place. 

He quickly moved the bedpan into place and told Tammy Taylor that it was ok 
for her to release the water - and the little black girl figured these had 
to be the sweetest words she had ever heard. Her brain was no longer working 
properly. 

The horrors she had suffered, and the recent loss of her man, had warped her 
mind. She was temporarily insane. Her stream-of-consciousness was no longer 
working properly. 

She found that her thoughts were traveling in a thousand different 
directions at the time - and she would hold onto no single thought for more 
than a fraction of a second. 

The little girl instantly relaxed her asshole and clamped down 
simultaneously on the muscles inside her colon and her bowels. Her anus 
opened - dilated - until it was grossly gaping. 

Tammy Taylor could hear her asshole making a thunderous farting noise. It 
was the loudest fart the little girl had ever heard in her entire life - and 
that was saying something. 

Jonah had been known to cut some huge farts in the morning - especially on 
mornings after the slaves were served pork and beans for dinner. She tried 
not to think about Jonah. 

Tammy decided that the only way she could preserve what was left of her 
sanity was to never think about the love of her life again. She now only had 
one purpose - and that was to serve her white master. 

She could feel her asshole blustering painfully and loudly - and the water 
spewed violently out of her asshole - right into the porcelain bedpan the 
Bernard Cornfield held the bedpan until all of the water had emptied from 
her bowels. The last of the water came out thick and, sludgy, and he was 
pleased with this. 

Her bowels were purged and cleansed - and the man knew he could now fuck the 
little girl right up the poop-chute without worrying about getting shit on 
his dick. 

He took the bedpan out of the torture chamber and left it on the floor. One 
of the slaves would clean it later. He didn't have to do such things being a 
landowner and all. 

He then released the girl's wrists from their cuffs and she tumbled 
immediately onto the floor. He remove the leather strap that held rolled her 
onto her waist jack-knifed. He rolled her onto her belly right there on the 
floor and used a rag to wipe her ass clean. 

He thing picked her up in his arms - lifting her as if she was as light as a 
feather. He carried her over to the torture table once again and placed her 
on her belly so that her tits were flattened against the wood. 

The girl was crazy - and she half-knew it. She knew something had to be 
wrong with her. The thought of her white master sadistically sodomizing her 
was not filling her with terror any longer as it was supposed to. No, she 
was feeling horny. 

The little black girl could feel a tingling of desire in her asshole - a 
tingling she had never known before, not even when she was making it with 
Jonah. 

She felt as if she actually wanted to get fucked up the ass. She could feel 
her asshole opening and closing rhythmically, as if her brown nether eye 
were winking at her master. 

Tammy Taylor could feel the desire in her anus spreading inward to fill her 
tight tubular sphincter muscle. It spread inward further. 

It filled her colon and her bowels. She could even feel a focal point of her 
anal desire forming deep inside her ass - in a place where only the tip of 
her master's prick could touch it. 

As he rebound her to the table she could tell that something wonderful was 
going to happen when he buggered her. She could tell that he was going to 
make her come. 

Yes, he was going to give her an orgasm - and she could tell that it was to 
be a release unlike any other she had ever known. Her clit would have 
nothing to do with this orgasm. 

Her inner pussy would be unrelated to the release she would have. He was 
going to make her come inside her ass - something she would not have thought 
possible unless she had experienced it for herself. 

The man rubbed her tiny ass for a moment and then returned to the cabinet. 
He had cleaned up the enema bag and replaced it on its shelf. 

He now fetched a bottle of oil - with which he was to lubricate the anal 
intercourse. He did not want to use the oil because he sought to keep the 
little girl's pain to a minimum. 

On the contrary, the man did not give a shit about the little girl's pain 
one way or the other. He simply didn't want to work very hard. He felt lazy. 

He knew that he would have an easier time, and not break as much of a sweat, 
if both his pole and her asshole were made slippery with the oil. 

He set the bottle on the table in between the black girl's spread thighs. He 
yanked her ass cheeks open once again with his left hand exclusively. 

He then took the top off the bottle of oil with his right hand. He poured 
some of the oil at the top of the crack of her ass. He let gravity do some 
of the work for him at that point. 

The oil flowed downward into the stretched cleavage between her buttocks. 
The oil rolled over her opening and closing asshole - and then down into the 
base of her cunt. 

The asshole made funny noises, as if it were trying to suck the oil right up 
inside. The white man massaged the oil all over the mouth of Tammy's tight 
rectum with a circular motion of his fingertips. 

He then used his middle finger to push some of the oil right up inside her 
nigger fanny. His oily finger slipped up that tight passage way with ease. 

He wiggled his finger around inside her ass for a moment or two and then 
pulled it all the way out. He poured fresh oil onto his cupped palm. By this 
time he had his trousers down around his ankles and his stiffened cock was 
standing at attention with the tip snapping upward before his flat, muscular 
loins. 

He oiled his dick - putting extra oil on the bulbous purple cock head. He 
then set the bottle of oil on the floor and climbed up on the torture table. 
He knelt with both knees in between the little girl's tapered and 
forced-open thighs. 

He opened her ass and mounted her. She could feel the head of his cock 
pushing into the cleavage between her buttocks. He ran the tip of his cock 
up and down the crack of her ass just as he had done with the enema syringe. 

And - just as had been the case with the ivory nozzle - the little girl 
shivered and moaned each time the tip of his prick touched her asshole. 

He stopped the head of his dick on her asshole and began to push. He tensed 
the muscles in his own ass cheeks. He felt her opening with ease. 

Her asshole had been exhausted by the enema and was no longer able to battle 
the penetration, but the ease of the violation also came because Tammy truly 
wanted it. It was part of her punishment - part of the punishment she truly 
believed that she deserved. 

Tammy could feel all of the puckers in her anus being smoothed as the hole 
was stretched as far as it could possibly go. She could feel the head of his 
cock pushing inside her - and she could feel her anus pushing his foreskin 
back. He kept pushing and it was clear that he intended to keep pushing 
until each and every inch of his pulsating prick meat was inside her bowels. 

She could feel the tip of his cock pushing into her colon, and she felt the 
pain - but she found that she was enjoying the pain. It was an intrinsically 
sexual pain and her aroused nervous-system was translating it into pleasure 
before the sensation was registered by her brain. 

She could feel sharp pains inside her bowels and she could tell his cock was 
stretching that tight internal passageway too far in places. 

He was wounding her inside. 

He was drawing blood. 

The tip of .his cock was getting ever-closer to the magic spot inside her 
ass - the focal point of Tammy Taylor's deep-anal desire. She could tell 
that something absolutely wonderful was going to happen when the man struck 
that magic spot with the tip of his cock. 

He took a deep breath. 

He filled his lungs with air, He grunted out the air. 

He stabbed down with his hips. 

He shoved the remainder of his cock inside her so that her asshole was 
gripping his dick at the hilt. She could feel the tip of his prick pulsating 
against the smelliest core of her womanhood. She was stuffed to the brim 
with cock meat. She knew his prick would be wearing a crimson coat by the 
time he was through buggering her, most of the blood clustering in a thick 
ring around the very base of his cock. 

Then he began to fuck. 

"I'M COMING INSIDE MY ASSSSSSSS!" the little girl screamed. 

 CHAPTER TEN 

It was several days later and Annabelle Cornfield realized that something 
very strange was happening to her. The experience she had had with Jonah had 
started something inside her. 

Something she could not control. She no longer wanted to masturbate or deny 
her desire for cock meat. She didn't desire Bernard anymore than she used to 
but - She wanted black cock meat. Ever since she felt Jonah's cock ramming 
into her tight pink, blonde twat, she had been able to think of nothing 
else. 

She realized that she had made a big mistake by arranging for Bernard to 
catch her in the torture chamber with Jonah. Her black lover was dead, and 
he had died such a gruesome death that the blonde woman didn't even want to 
think about it. 

She didn't want to think about her desire for black cock meat either, for 
that matter - but the blonde beauty could not help herself. 

It was as if her pussy were doing her thinking for her. She knew that she 
had to get it on with another of the slaves soon, and this time she was 
going to be more careful. This time she wasn't going to get caught. 

She decided that she was going to seduce one of the men who worked in the 
house rather than out in the fields. She knew these nigger boys better - and 
she felt she could trust them. 

Sure they were the same men who had been keeping the torture chamber a 
secret from her for years - but that just meant that they were following 
orders. 

If she told them to keep a secret from the master - that would obey her 
orders just as they had obeyed his. She was not going to go off half-cocked. 

This time she was going to think things through. She wanted to avoid - at 
all costs - another savage and bloody scene like the one in the torture 
chamber after Bernard had discovered Jonah humping away at her blissful 
cunt. 

Yes, the blonde woman thought it through, and she decided that the nigger 
boy she trusted most of all was Jones, the head butler at the mansion. 

Jones was a man in his forties who was beginning to turn white above his 
ears - but she knew he was plenty young enough to still be able to get it 
up. 

Not only did she know that Jones could get it up - but her feminine 
intuition told her that he knew what to do with his cock once it was 
standing at attention. 

Jones served the woman breakfast every morning. It was a Wednesday, the day 
Bernard went to Atlanta. She spent even longer than usual at her toilet, and 
came downstairs looking as pretty as a picture. 

Jones served up her poached eggs and she ran her hand over his ass as he was 
walking away from her. She saw him bristle. But he kept walking as if 
nothing had happened. 

When Jones returned to the diningroom Annabelle couldn't help but notice 
that the man had a bulge in his crotch - and a big bulge it was. 

Annabelle knew that it was true what they said about the nigger boys. They 
were all hung like horses. She could feel her mouth watering. 

"Would you come upstairs with me to my bedroom for a moment, Jones?" 
Annabelle said to the black butler, her seductiveness oozing from between 
her lips. Her voice was like liquid silk. 

"What use you got for me up there, Mrs. Cornfield?" Jones asked. He was 
horny but he was nervous. He had had to watch with his own eyes what had 
happened to Jonah - and he knew better than anyone that the lady of the 
house meant trouble through and through. 

"I have womanly needs and I think you know how to take care of them," she 
said. She winked at Jones, her blonde eyelashes flapping against her high 
rosy cheekbone. 

"You know that the master don't allow none of that, Mrs. Cornfield. You be 
getting the both of us in trouble with this kind of crazy talk,'' Jones 
said. 

"Let me put it this way. I order you to come up to my bedroom with me. If 
you say no I'm going to tell Mr. Cornfield that you tried to rape me, just 
like that other nigger boy. Now what was his name?" 

"Jonah." 

"That's right. You don't want to end up like him do you?" Annabelle said. 
She could feel the hot blood of her womanly horniness pumping into her 
pussy. 

"No, ma'am." 

"Good. Now Mr. Cornfield is in Atlanta. If you don't tell and I don't tell - 
then there's no way he can find out what you and I have been doing. Right?" 

"I guess so, ma'am." 

"Good boy. Now come with me. The sooner we get up there and start fooling 
around, the better I am going to like it," she said, anxiousness intrinsic 
in her vocal intonations. 

The second Jones and Annabelle were in her bedroom alone she shut the door 
behind them and locked it. She told Jones to stand by the foot of the bed. 

Then she did something that made the black man's eyes go wide. She dropped 
to her knees in front of him and began to undo his trousers. 

She pulled down his pants and his big black cock came flopping out. She 
puckered her lips and drew in cool air - producing a low whistling sound of 
unadulterated application. 

She could feel her mouth watering worse than before and she could feel the 
crotch of her panties getting wet from the juices her vaginal glands were 
secreting. 

Her clit was swollen. 

Her nipples were erect. 

They were both breathless. 

Annabelle began to kiss and lick and bite at the insides of the black man's 
thighs, working her way upward toward the base of his scrotal sack. 

She then parted her red lips and allowed her pink tongue to protrude. She 
made her taster pointy at the tip and began to lick his nuts. 

He shivered and she began to lave his testicles more enthusiastically. She 
used the flat part of her tongue and licked him until his scrotal sack was 
all wet and shiny. 

She sucked his balls. 

She pinned his cock to his belly with her fingertips and began to flick the 
tip of her tongue up and down the underside of his throbbing ebony pole. 

She ran the sides of her tongue all around his huge cock head. She flicked 
the tip of her tongue lightly and quickly back and forth across the swollen 
lips astride his opening and closing piss hole. 

Then she relaxed the muscles at the sides of her face and allowed her mouth 
to fall gaping open. She cupped his balls in one palm and gripped his cock 
shaft in the other. 

She took the head of his cock in her mouth. She gripped his dick meat just 
below the lower rim of his glans with her desperate lips. 

She hollowed her cheeks deeply as she created an intense, vacuum inside her 
hot, wet oral cavity. She began to suck his cock as hard as she could. 

The black man could feel his masculine horniness growing in leaps and 
bounds. He could tell that he was going to spurt come right into her mouth 
in a matter of seconds. 

He told her he was going to come. 

But she kept right on sucking. 

Then Jones understood. 

She wanted to taste his jism. 

His muscles stiffened and his back arched. His huge black hands, which were 
still down at his sides, were clenched into super-tight fists. 

His mouth fell open and his cock began to spasm. She pumped the shaft of his 
dick with her fist as his piss hole opened until it was gaping. 

He screamed with pleasure and his molten spunk spewed into her mouth. The 
beautiful blonde woman sucked down every drop as if he were the master and 
she were his slave. 

He relaxed when his come was over and Annabelle rather lazily licked his 
cock clean. She then stood up, kissed his cheek, and removed every stitch of 
her clothing. 

"Jones?" 

"Yes, ma am." 

"Eat my pussy." 

"Yes, ma'am." 

She got on her back on the bed, placing both of her feather pillows on top 
of one another. She spread her legs open for him. He crawled onto the bed on 
his belly. 

He kissed and licked and nibbled his way up the insides of her milky white 
thighs - and then he began to lap happily at her cunt with his huge tongue. 
She squealed with delight. She wished she had thought of this a long time 
ago! 

EPILOGUE 

During the following few months, Annabelle Cornfield became extremely 
sexually active with the slaves. 

Indeed, the beautiful blonde woman was more sexually active than she had 
ever been before in her life ... 

She decided that she wanted to find out everything there was to know about 
sex - and then some!!! 

The beautiful woman wanted to feel throbbing cock meat inside all three of 
her fuck holes. She couldn't get enough. 

Jones was delighted, but his sexual pleasure was always tainted by his fear 
- his fear of discovery. 

Jones knew - all too well - what would happen to him if Mr. Cornfield found 
out what he had been doing. 

Jones knew that Mrs. Cornfield would yell "rape" and that would be the end 
of his sexual career. Pronto! Jones knew that he and his massive set of cock 
and balls would part company forever at that point. 

On the other hand, the head butler at the Cornfield Estate knew he could 
never deny Annabelle her wants. 

He knew that he would have to fuck her every time she wanted to be fucked - 
and that was all there was to it. 

Annabelle would always remember the very first time she let Jones fuck her. 
It was, indeed, something to remember. 

She was in her bedroom late in the morning, still tending to her morning 
toilet, when she called for him. 

As usual, Jones was there promptly, already feeling an ache mounting in his 
huge, throbbing nigger balls. 

The woman could feel her pussy getting all wet and soupy. He had eaten her 
pussy like an expert several times. 

Jones had used his big pink tongue and his fat brown lips to give the woman 
the best orgasms she had ever known. 

She met him at the door, dressed in only the flimsiest nightgown. He nodded 
at the woman politely. 

Jones could see the buoyant globes of Annabelle's splendid breasts bobbing 
up and down inside the nightie. 

Jones could almost see her pinkness through that nightgown, and he could 
feel his ebony prick growing. 

The butler's thick cock was getting a little big longer all the time - and 
.the woman approached him slowly. 

He could feel his pants getting tighter as she placed her hands lightly at 
the back of his strong neck. 

In a moment he had his strong arms around her slender waist, pulling the 
front of her body against him. 

The slave could feel her breasts flattening against his chest. He loved the 
way her throbbing nipples felt. 

Their lips were together - and then their tongues. He placed his hands flat 
on the small of her back. 

He slid his palms down to the cheeks of her ass, and then slowly, very 
slowly, down the backs of her thighs. 

He worked his hands under the hem of the nightgown and then back up 
underneath the silky nightie. 

He had his hands on her warm smooth white flesh, back up the backs of her 
thighs to her buttocks. 

He began to knead the flesh of her ass with strong hands and her cunt began 
to drool with juices. 

Her clit was ready to burst as they battled each other with their tongues. 
It was an internal battle. 

The kiss became extremely sloppy, as his mouth was a good deal larger than 
Annabelle Cornfield's mouth. 

Their lips were all slippery and rolled over one another smoothly by the end 
of their oral embrace. He pulled her nightgown all the way up over her head 
when the kiss was through. The woman touched his crotch. 

Her fingers worked eagerly and with great coordination as she unbuttoned the 
large black man's fly. 

Her fingers slipped into his fly and found his cock. It was a big black worm 
becoming increasingly stiffer. 

"Ummmmmmmmmm, I love the way your cock feel in my hand," Annabelle Cornfield 
said with a deep sigh. 

Jones shivered with delight. Soon she had his pants down as his cock was as 
big and hard as it could get. 

"Come to the bed with me now, Jones and stick your cock inside my pussy," 
Annabelle said. She sounded stern. 

This was not a request on her part. It was an order, a direct command from a 
mistress to a slave. 

She rolled onto her belly and then knelt up, lifting her ass up to Jones. He 
knelt at her milky white rear. 

She rested the side of her face on the bed and reached back with both of her 
dainty hands at the same time. 

She managed to tug her cunt lips and the cheeks of her ass open as far as 
they could go at the same time. 

The beautiful white woman could hear herself panting and moaning loudly as 
his cock head touched her cunt. 

Jones rubbed the tip of his prick up and down the slash very slowly and then 
found the tight opening. 

"You are so fucking big, and I can feel you filling me up, filling me to the 
brim!" Annabelle screamed. 

Jones said nothing. He pushed until the entire head of his cock was inside 
her - and then he kept pushing. 

The tip of his prick smacked against her cervix and then pushed against the 
back wall of her pussy. 

Annabelle Cornfield had to stretch to do it - but she finally managed to get 
the entire cock inside her. 

She could feel Jones' kinky pubic patch pressing against her asshole. His 
balls were on her clitoris. 

He began to fuck her and the friction quickly brought her to orgasm. Her 
pussy gushed with sweet fluid. 

He fucked her faster and faster and she came again and again. She felt as if 
she could not stop coming. 

The handsome black slave managed to make her come more often than she would 
have thought possible. 

The woman was almost embarrassed by the fuss she made and smiled at him 
shyly when it was over. 

In contrast to her bizarre screaming and bucking, Jones remained absolutely 
silent as he shot inside her. 

She did not kick him out right away. She went down on him. She sucked his 
cock. She licked his balls. 

She made him hard again in less than a quarter of an hour and again got on 
her hands and knees. 

He went to push his new erection back into her cunt, but she stopped him. 
She reached back to hold his pole. 

She guided the head to her anus. 

"PUSH! PUSH HARD!" Annabelle Cornfield screamed, her need for brutal buggery 
practically overwhelming her! 


The End
