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 fact 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.