Every fifteen strokes she would pause slightly to plunge the cloth whip back into the bucket of water.At eighty-eight, Nicole’s back and ass were tu...ning a bright shade of red and she began grunting slightly with each stroke. At one hundred and thirty she began begging, “Please, Mistress Ann, no more, no more.”Annabelle’s only response was “Keep the count, slavegirl!”Nicole continued counting, but she was grunting and whining before each count. When the count reached two hundred, Annabelle. “And Mary-Beth?”“After my mother,” Jack said. “Also a southern lady, she met my father when he was doing his basic training, in Biloxi, Mississippi. Despite growing up there, she never had the same racist attitudes as Chris’s parents.”“That’s because they weren’t descended from plantation owners, where owning slaves was a matter of course,” Chris replied. “It was a different world from what we know of here.”“Anyway, we don’t have to worry about those family problems over here,” Jack said. “No. More

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