It had four floors and no lift. The Labour Exchange arranged the interview as a filing clerk for my knowledge of Dutch. It was held in the filing room... in the basement, deep in the bowels of the bank and so close to the London Underground system that trains could be heard passing through the adjacent tube tunnels every three minutes.The interviewer was a lady of Dutch descent. I waited an hour seated in my future bunker before she put in an appearance. We shook hands and then she addressed a few. Yes, these men of Gor would obey the Lady Felicia. And if theydid not, I would have them whipped.Oh, but it was a sweet form of revenge against the patriarchal rule onthis planet. It was the one exception to the rule that I must alwaysdefer to men, for when a man was enslaved he no longer had anyauthority over me.The slave pens were kept clean, but even so there was the musky scentof too much pent up testosterone that lingered in the air this morning.I gazed at the men in their heavy steel. I just had to take in the moment for a minute. I began to pop sweat even more. "Follow me, Mr. Fidello," Contessa's agent said. I fell into his footsteps until he showed me to a room filled with photographic mementos of Contessa's porn career. The one that stood out most was the photo hanging over the fireplace. It was the most fantastic shot of Contessa with her legs spread, her pussy pushing outward, and a stream of her cum flowing generously from her soft pink spot. It was absolutely. Between us. You don't have to," I felt tears begin to well. "I went to the Doctors and and I'm okay."He stared at me then lifted my hand to his lips.I stood next to my Grandmother's bed as he went over and partially closed the bedroom curtains. A shaft of fading sunlight fell across the room as I listened to him moving around behind me."Maybe we should remove this," he said as he gathered the duvet and put it to one side. "Just in case." He then folded the blanket back to the bottom of the bed.