My name is Chiku; I am a beautiful black girl from Africa, Nigeria to be precise. When I was 19 years old, my family moved to England.
This was a massive change in culture for a young, attractive African girl. Although educated and very well-versed in English, I had always revered English girls.
My ancestors had told me stories of colonial life during the heyday of the 'Great British Empire', so my journey was made with more than a sense of tender trepidation!
On arriving, we had so little money that my Mother was compelled to take a job as a domestic maid, working for a quite wealthy English family in the pretentious suburbia of a large City.
We resided in what was classed as the inner-city and it consisted mainly of African or other immigrant nationalities. On occasions, I would travel with my Mother to the large, spacious detached house where she worked.
I was allowed, albeit moderately, to form a sort of friendship with her mistress' daughter, who was just a month younger than myself.
Victoria typified my image of the archetypal English rose: her beautiful, fulsome hair; a pale, slightly freckled complexion and an air of nonchalant superiority, as she gazed down at her new black companion!
Her dress was scintillatingly stunning, clearly purchased from an extremely, expensive designer store. It was rather short but emphatically showed off her toned legs!
Though she was a small, petite girl, more so than me, her cleavage was more than ample; in fact her breasts were substantially greater and more upright than my own. This instantly brought pangs of jealousy!
While my Mother cleaned her Mummy's house, I was allowed to mix with Victoria; though she made sure I treated her with deference. It was crystal clear that I was only the maid's daughter!
She was a very spoiled girl, Victoria, even having the temerity to tell my own Mother off in front of me.
'Ewoma, why have you moved my bracelet?'
'Get me a drink!'
'Tidy my room,'
These were just a few of her incessant demands. How dare her treat my Mum with such utter derision. It really hurt me, yet I had no choice but to accept the unfortunate circumstance as my Father and older sister had yet to find meaningful employment.
Sometimes, however, the English girl was sweet with me and we chatted intimately but in the company of her friends, she became a little prima donna, pouting orders to me as if her I was her maid and insulting me in any way that compounded her mood.
In a strange way though, I felt a weird sense of belonging as she bossed and humiliated me.
The subtle stare and menacingly foreboding look of this little white brat brought a horrific feeling of nervousness to me as I remembered my ancestors' tales of the lavish, pampered lifestyles of English girls in the Colonies!
As time passed, Victoria seemed to become more confident in her ability to boss me and I became more submissive.
I always felt as intelligent as her, probably more so and I have no doubt many boys would find me as attractive but I still found myself beginning to worship her and I became accustomed in my role, even though my only reward was one of Victoria's dresses occasionally handed down to me.
One glorious June evening, it was the summer ball and Victoria had been invited with a young man she had recently met.
She summonsed me to her bedroom to show me her immaculate corseted-dress that she had bought for the evening.
After seeing to her hair which she insisted I brush incessantly for at least an hour, I ironed her outfit for the night, while she took a bath, but was slightly aghast, on returning to her room, to find her attire only knickers and bra!
This was the first time I had seen her semi-naked and I felt awkward yet found myself glancing admirably at her superbly toned figure.
Years of gymnastics had clearly enhanced her physique and her superb, little bottom was any girl's dream.
