"You have come a far distance this day, little slave," he said, working on whatever held my ankles in place.

"I mean to use you, little slave," he chuckled, moving around the room somewhere behind me.

If I'm a good little slave, someday he might tell me.

"Then you'll know how to feed our little slaves, won't you?"

It seemed to the little slave that there was a kind of horror about her expression as she looked at the doctor.

It was a very staggered little slave who watched them go.

The little slave found a tiny scar and that had to be fixed.

Instantly the little slave appeared, set a tray before Peter and vanished.

At once the little black slave, bearing his silver tray, appeared before them.

The little slave would be dead himself soon enough.