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The master_s revenge

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.