Was he allowed to finish her off or would Mistress demand him not too.Gimp waited eagerly for the next order from Mistress. The confusion was too muc.... Gimp wasn't sure what to do. If he continued or stopped, he could be punished. Was this more mental torture?Gimp looked at Mistress. She looked back with a blank face. Was she pleased or not? Gimp had no idea.Mistress stood up, walked across the room and stood between Ferrari and Gimp, her crutch within inches of Gimp.Gimp could smell her. To be sure there would be no need for heating oil now.Things were starting to look better. At the word oil prices, I thought back didn’t I see oil jacks around the Compound when I flew in? Now I wondered just how deep were those wells, and how deep did the time shift effect the ground under us. Was I sitting on top of an old oil reserve? If so just how much was there?I called Dick, “Dick, do you have anyone that can check on the oil jacks I’ve seen around the Compound?”Dick replied, “Yes, Mr.. More

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