Unknown - The master_s revenge

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 to 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.

"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.