Where is Helen now?” I wondered. Helen had been my work wife sort of. I guess I kind of had a few of them. I ran the programmers, assigned their tas...s and monitoring their progress. She designed the games user interface and assigned the graphic artists. We’d discuss what we could and couldn’t do. We’d match-make programmers and graphic artists for the tasks. Knowing for the best results, you had to have people that worked well together working together. After all, the late nights of crunch time. My sister tottered out of the bathroom, her round, golden-brown breasts jiggling, her nipples not even erect. Her head downcast, black hair falling around her face.“You are being a bad slave,” I hissed. “You’re walking instead of crawling. You’re my bitch-slave, linda.”My older sister sank down to her knees without a word, no energy. In my hands I held a pair of nipple clamps. This would get a reaction out of her.“You know I have to punish you for your insolent behavior.”My older sister. More

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