<div class="floatleft"><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><div align="center">(https://files.catbox.moe/k872lq.jpg)<br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 11pt;"><strong>Calvin Luther</strong></span><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 10pt;">Adam<br/><br/><span style="text-decoration: overline;">           </span></span></span></div></td><td>(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/4/4d/AlTeregoSeparator.png)</td></tr></tbody></table></div><br/>It is such a wonderful feeling, to feel her pleased with me.<br/><br/>There are moments of worry, that I might have been less clever than I'd imagined, when she speaks of the surveillance... and then perhaps a thought of my own identity discovered, but her reference to her staff correcting things wipes those cares from my mind.  There's a distant memory, fuzzy, about looking at images like that of someone else, but I can't get it in focus.<br/><br/>"Thank you very much, Mistress. I would like very much to please you."<br/><br/>The car whisks us away, to some destination that it never occurs to me to ask about.