Then she began to make little moaning noises. Still the mistress went on. Helen didn’t want to use the code-word, but she felt she could stand this ...ain no longer. Her moans got louder; still her mistress wouldn’t stop. Eventually she screamed, “No more, please, no more!” “That’s better, little one,” said the mistress in a warmer tone than she had used before. “Now you have a choice. You can be whipped again for a full half-hour; or you can be my slave, and the slave of everyone here… Make. A black soldier and her native grandmother had spawned her mother. Evacuated with other orphans in the aftermath, her mother had been passed around foster homes until she was recruited to a special academy for young women where her superior potential for intelligence, beauty and poise was amplified to perfection. Her mother had thereafter married well, enjoying a life of wealth and power, thus enabling her daughter Kiki to live her own life of pleasure seeking. In time, she followed her mother. More

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