I had to answer the questions truthfully. 

It was a simple; yes or no; response. 

"Do you like anal?" The lady in the Picasso mask asked as she was sipping away at her prosecco. She stayed standing just so I could see her bite sized frame in that stunning Gucci dress of hers. Her back naked with dainty straps holding everything in place.   

The nerve racking thing is not the fact that I am plugged into this machine, oh no. Nor is it the women in the masks. It is not even this conspiracy to eliminate men. It is the fact that everyone knew my face and everyone knew my name. This, is a terrible combination. Soon, these evil ladies would no all of my secrets. Even the dirty ones. I feared one day this information would be used against me 

If I lied. I failed. My sponsers made that very clear. 

Do I even want to be participate? Can I leave? Do I want to be part of this cabal? What if I talk about events that transpired here.

I was about to be bombarded by promiscuous questions. 

Why ask so many myself? Hmm?

Three quarters of the worlds population. . . dead. I can not stand idly by and allow this to happen now, can I? 

The stuck up woman who asked me if I liked anal spoke up once again. "Do you need any more time?" She sardonically said.

Light laughter permeated throughout the great hall.   

I gulped, nervously. My trebling hand reached for the glass of water. As I lifted it toward me I almost spilled the contents onto the polygraph machine. Did I mean to do that? My minds thinking. I regained composure, my hand is not a jittery. I took a sip of the ice cold water and breathed. 

That's it, Ella, I told myself. Relax. 

I am ready to answer the question for this arrogant swine.  

In a brittle tone, I answered, "n-no," regarding whether or not I liked anal. The polygraph machine was well inspected by the examiner, I knew to be a bigish swarthy woman for I could see her face paritally. She wore a surgical mask that covered her mouth and nostrills bid did nothing to hide the bridge of her nose nor her choclate coloured eyes which were keenly observing the machine at work. Her long faux hawk must have taking her hair stylest the majority of the day to construct.

"May I have the next question?" The Baroness asked in her over the top posh voice. She looked around at a wave of hands that were raied. 

Hopefully the sexual question dont become persistnet. 

I am hoping Hinata was wrong with her calculated assumption. 

"Yes, you dear, at the front with the diamons earrings, they are lovely by the way," The Baroness complemented the lady. I would have called her Buggs Bunny, she had big ears and buck teeth. Her diamonds are the last thing I would have been drawn to. 

Again the microphone was passed to whoever wanted to put there question to me. "Have you had intercourse this week?" 

All the ladies were trying to out do one another in the sophisticated department. As mentioned there attire spoke of class. Mari doubted any one woman was wearing an ensemble under two and a half, that grand not hundred. The dresses were all so beautiful none more than the one she was in. Although, she would have liked to have seen herself in white on a trip down the aisle not here at this dubious gathering. 

The examiners duty was to relay the message to me. As clear as a bell the swarthy lady relayed Buggs Bunny's question to me. "Have you had intercourse this week?" Then her next duty was to look at her laptop screen as she awaited my answer.

"Yes," I said. "Three days ago." 

"Three days ago ladies," the Baroness informed the cabal. "She will be in for a pleasant surprise later that is for sure."

I think I could do with fewer surprises, I thought. 

The questions kept coming. A constant bombardment. Wave after wave of every personal question you might think. 

"Have you been fisted? Do you shave?  Do you own a dildo? Have you ever been attracted to the same sex? Do you like big cocks? Do you like small cocks? Do you like this? Do you like that?" 

All of these questions I felt toally uncomfortable when answering. I had done what was asked of me and answered as honestly as I could. 

I had no alternative.

I wandered what the other girls felt when they came up to take the true test. Did there sponsers give them the same pep talk that I had got? Did they answer honestly or did they attempt to cheat the ployraph machine.? 

I asked the swarty examiner, "how am I doing?" She jutted up her chin and gave me the cold shoulder. I thought her to be charming in the most ignorant way imaginable.

To be fair, not all the questions put to me by the ladies of SOW were sexual in there nature. 

One woman asked me, "Are you ambitious?"

I thought this to be a curious question to be frank. It was a pleasant shift from all the information I disclosed to these ladies.  Up until now, I recived seven questions all of which were relating to my sexual orientation and all that entailed.  

"Very -"

"yes or no," the stern examiner reminded me of the answers that were acceptable. 

"Yes," I say. I paid the examiner icy gaze as my brow furrowed and my nose cruched in on itself.

Every time, the Baroness would ask one of the ladies to put a question to me. Somone in the adudaince would oblige. 

I so wish this was a menial inauguration of some kind. A tutor asking her/his class questions. Because if it had been either or - or something similar, these ladies might not have been so eager to raise there hand. 

Eventually the Baroness called for silence, she looked like she was worshiping the audience as her arms moved up and then down. "That is the fun bit over and done with," the Baroness announced. "Would you not say ladies?" This statement was recived with applause. 

That was as far from fun as sky diving out of a plane without a parachute is. 

Now, the Baroness was going to put a question to me. 

I assumed the question or questions that the Baroness herself would be asking would be something a lot more series then the frivolous questions about my sexual oritneation.  

I know I should never assume 

Assumptions are asinine at times.

The first question the Baroness asked was this.

"Do you want to be part of the order of SOW."

I looked down at the floor for an answer. I'd find little joy. In my head I re-asked the question over and over again as a trembling hand reached for the glass of water which had now been accustomed to room temperature.

"No," I said assuringly. 

I had to be honest. Didn't I?

"Hmm," the Baroness jutted her chin to the celling. There were murmurings between the ladies then. 

Then, the Baroness asked me another question. She gave no light to whether I had answered the first right or wrong. I was honest with my response that had to count for something right?

 "Do you believe us ladies should take over this world which as it stand is predominantly run by men?" 

That was an easy question to answer. "Yes." I said emphatically.  

"So you do believe in out cause?"

It was a trick question of sorts. I had to think about it for a moment. I did not want to be associated with these ladies and the order of SOW but I did believe females should run the earth. 

The Baroness then asked me again, I must have paused longer than I intended. "Do you believe in our cause? Ella Ann Nijinksky." 

"I believe women should be given the right to rule -"

"Yes or No, Miss Nijinksy," the Baroness icily put to me. It was as if I were in the dock in a court room and was currently being cross examined by her solicitor.  

With a sigh I had to speak truthfully.

 "I. . ." 

Thus Ended; The True Test.