"Thank god, please help me, our plane crashed and the others are dead."No reply. She repeated her plea in French, and getting no response she switched...despairingly to her limited German. Then the heavy door started to open. As soon as there was enough of a crack the man slid out. Silvie couldn't have been more surprised. The figure before her was as medieval in appearance as the setting: a robed and cowled monk.As confounded as she was by his appearance she knew she must seem equally odd to. "Yes, sir. Please let me service you." I said. I reached up with my shackled hands. I touched the outside of his left hip and moved my hands over the fabric of his pants. He took a step back.I thought he might leave. Instead he turned, closed the door and locked it."Your master is a lucky man to have such a good slave.". He said turning back to me unzipping his pants. He put his right hand on top of my head. "Are you a good slave?" He asked."I do as I am told. Please, sir. Let me service you.". More

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