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.