Unknown - The master_s revenge

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.