My Butler James Part 9b: Gloria's Last Scene

story continues from part eight

The final part of "My Butler James" has two endings, one of which is a somewhat happy ending and the other an alternate dark ending.
Part 9a: The Pay Per View Heiress = Good & Part 9b: Gloria's Last Scene= darker ending - you choose.

Part 9b: Gloria's Last Scene

Warning: This version of the ending of My Butler James is darker that most I have written.

Hours later the black helicopters landed and deposited their human cargo, a team of black uniformed security men with no rank insignia or service in evidence. These men had only side arms on their persons, and the look of technicians landing in a known secure location, and I watched the waiting three human feeders and James speak with them, and then lead them toward the mansion as if they were on holiday. Another civilian chopper landed as far away from the others as possible, and this one sat as if waiting for something with no persons either leaving, or entering, it's tinted windows hiding what was inside, their being a stark contrast to it's gleaming white fuselage. Did the good guys always wear white, or ride up on white horses, or did that only happen in the movies?

I assumed one of the three men had contacted the authorities when Jessica had been safely disabled, the two security droids obviously deferring to James' control once she stopped communicating with them. The black suited men were apparently dispatched to collect the singularity, as well as the three men and other devices that had arrived with her, and here I suspected that both her skills and their secret weapons would find a new purpose.

It was a cynical thought, but pragmatic that such capabilities didn't find their way into the hands of those with nefarious intentions. I realized that in itself was a point of view argument, but those in power couldn't be blamed for wanting to remain so, (if for no less noble reason than to protect their citizens), and for purely selfish reasons I wondered how all this would effect me in both the short, and long term. Our robotics division was ideally placed to make a fortune with this new technology, and we already had contracts with the military, and likely the patents for their designs as well...

I was dressed as a maid for what I hoped was the last time, they were the only clothes at the mansion that fit me, and while looking subtly sexy, they were far more acceptable that walking around in my skin with the black uniformed men present. It was my intention to get on one of those choppers and leave my mansion never to look back. The money was irrelevant to me, but with my doppelganger disabled I could resume her position at the robotics division, and with my unique experiences could make a name for myself with the success that was sure to come. I could possibly even commission my own James for personal use, possibly just a little bit less well endowed, but one just as dominant when I felt the need.

A human man couldn't be trusted to do the things I would need him to do, nor keep a secret when I tired of him. I also didn't want any human man to have that kind of control over me. If nothing else, my time at the mansion had taught me not to trust most humans any farther than I cold throw them, not only in Jessica's case, but in the case of my half siblings corporate personnel and finance director who almost certainly engineered my sequestering at the remote mansion in the first place.

He was an obnoxious man that lusted for all that I had and he didn't. My half siblings had hired him on to keep an eye on me, (I'm sure), specifically because I found him repulsive. They knew that under no circumstances would I use my body willingly to gain his favor, (as I had done with his hansom predecessor), but could HE be the one who had seen to it that I received the first re-purposed prison guard droid named James?

If so, that obnoxious man likely had hours of recordings of my torment at the hands of the first James. I could just imagine him pleasuring himself while watching my naked body getting whipped with James' belt, or bound and spanked with my broom, or even bound and sprayed down with the cold water of the garden hose as I shivered in the shade. The obnoxious man would have enjoyed watching vicariously that which he couldn't possibly hope to do himself in the flesh, he almost certainly lacking the intestinal fortitude required for such things personally.

I was forced to work in the nude before a multitude of security cameras even when I wasn't getting punished, reminiscent of one of those island survivor 'has been' reality shows, without the censorship of broadcast television. Could that be the reason that both James' had encouraged my drastic weight gain, and the reason the latter James had decided to cut my hair to further conceal my identity? If so, he was part of the conspiracy as well, and a possible reason to disguise my appearance could be so the obnoxious man could further distribute my humiliating imagery to an even larger audience.

Could Jessica as well be a hidden black project of theirs that ran amok, and I the only human who could expose their screw-ups? If so, the sooner I got on one of those choppers and back to my half siblings the better, as I would put nothing past that man's passion for survival, even at my cost. If what I suspected was true, that man had ultimate control over James, and I could find myself back on his big screen for season two, three, and four, for his version of 'Torture The Heiress Island'.

I intended to walk up to the large business class chopper as if I were invited and simply open the door, hopefully to put this little adventure behind me once and for all. The landing pad was quite bright in the noon day sun with it's reflection off of the white fuselage of the chopper, I hoping the good guys were in the proverbial white horse, and intending to finish my account of things later, once safely away...

Months Later:

"Ladies... and gentlemen, you all have top secret or better clearances or you wouldn't be here, as well as Whiskey Tango Foxtrot authorization for this classified demonstration. I warn you that what your about to see will be hard on those with sensitivities, but do try to evaluate our proposal from the aspect of plausible denial as it's intended. Nothing you're about to see can leave this room unless cleared by the director himself, and if it was me I wouldn't ask."

There was nervous laughter in various parts of what looked for all the world like a small high security movie theater, the director himself in attendance and sitting next to the stunning Heiress who's project this was, but he wasn't laughing. None of the others would be as well once the presentation was over, of that the corporation's personnel and finance director was certain...

There were cameras hidden everywhere, high end ones that were as small as modern technology can make them, and the scene opened to show a lush tropical beachhead at twilight through IR cameras, one that everybody present had the good sense not to ask the location of. A woman walked into the field of view wearing a torn generic black jump suit, her hair cut quite short and tossed about as if she had recently just crawled out of the ocean. The way the damp and ripped flight suit fit her there was no mistaking her for a man, even in the IR cameras distorted illumination, and most every set of eyes in the theater were glued to the screen, instincts telling them something profound was about to happen. The woman's eyes themselves had the look of terror and impending doom, as if she knew what was coming even though those watching didn't just yet.

In close captions scrolling across the bottom of the screen: 'Foreign saboteur landed on domestic soil with unknown intentions. Mission: Locate and capture, and immediately interrogate without remorse to determine motives and objectives with regard to all established codes of conduct within the bounds of present legal findings, if warranted.'

There were murmurs in various places inside the secure location despite an earlier warning to remain quiet. The Heiress had incredible hearing, and she listened into the various conversations going on around her to gauge her presentations effect. There were two general schools of thought on the unfolding scene before them. One was how on earth could a mission like this be completed in the present day. The younger men expressing their own ideas about how to properly interrogate the woman on the screen before them, (as their hearts could be heard by the Heiress pounding with their increased adrenalin flow), any interrogation likely more for their own entertainment than any actual gathering of information, but still in violation of several laws.

The screen split in two, the woman looking about in a panic as if deciding what way to run, or possibly thinking she heard something. The other half of the screen had the woman's image expressed on a thermal display from a low angle, her cool, warm, and hot zones looking like multicolored high tech cartoon porn to the watching men. Her substantial breasts and womanhood contrasting in temperature, as was her head, the colors drawing further attention to her charms. Her instincts must have been good because she was looking in the direction of the thermal camera, she obviously hearing whoever, or whatever was operating it.

The woman on the screen bolted away from the thermal camera, her breasts gyrating wildly under her torn jump suit, confirming the suspicions of the younger men that she wore nothing but the suit. Her dash and listen routine seemed to be somewhat effective, but the thermal cameras were easily keeping track of her movements, and one watching her futile attempts at evasion knew there could only be one outcome. It was as if the woman were the remaining queen on the chessboard, and being hounded mercilessly by her opponents piece, (several pieces in this case), and all that remained was the inevitable 'checkmate' for the passive king when she fell.

That occurred by design before those watching could develop any further empathy for the hunted woman, although that would be difficult for a room full of military and security professionals, considering she was purported to be a foreign saboteur and implied terrorist. The woman in fact believed in her cause to her very core, (introduced to her less than a day earlier on a yacht with a very special device), but how that had been engineered was a highly guarded secret that less than six humans on the entire planet knew, and that number could become zero in less than an hour with one simple command from the Heiress. The hunted woman was a 'not so smart bomb' and the true purpose of the test that some of the most brilliant minds on the planet were about to witness, but never understand.

The heiress wanted to demonstrate several capabilities of her fabulous machines for the watching men, the least impressive of which was their ability to track an organic target at night. If their company were to sell this technology in mass, they had to overwhelm their guests with it's capabilities, and it's clever manipulation of existing laws. The Heiress had her own plans, and they required an army of HER little machines be fielded, and the numbers required to finance that were so vast that only a nation state could possibly afford to do it on the promise that it would end all wars.

The jump suited woman on screen froze in her tracks with the effects of an unseen force, and she fell to the sand twitching violently as if having a seizure while her up until now unseen hunters emerged from the undergrowth. The watching audience reacted when the Heiresses' creations came into frame, several of the devices converging on the writhing jump suited form obviously in great distress.

In closed captions: 'Suspicious unarmed female with brainwave profile suggesting hostile intent, two objects of interest initially detected on her person. Detain, search, and possibly interrogate to evaluate threat.'

The inverted trash can looking machines were familiar to the watching military men, but up until now had only been seen with passive capabilities by the general public in hotels and public institutions, or lately in wealthy homes and businesses. The military version of the droids could drive trucks and fly helicopters into dangerous situations to protect their human masters, but the watching men and their trained eyes could see those on screen were as different from them as a hatch back is to a racing car. Both could move on their own and had controls, but there the similarities ended.

Two of the machines grabbed the writhing woman's appendages, stretching her out between them in a way reminiscent of the medieval rack. The Heiress cringed inwardly at the imagery, she did so as well when she first reviewed this footage for their demonstration earlier, but the men who had watched it with her that first time responded with something akin to a sexual frenzy, so she decided to leave it in. Were all men hardwired from millennium of dominating the female of the species so that this excited them? A great majority of their potential customers were male, so leaving it in was a simple marketing decision.

The woman stopped struggling, the unseen device that had rendered her helpless obviously not necessary any longer, she not going anywhere the little machines didn't want her to go. Several different scans were performed on her splayed body and displayed in split screen as the two machines cooperatively rotated her about a full three hundred and sixty degrees, the full body fluoroscope exposing the subject to a thousand times the recommended x-ray dosage for a single event. The conclusion in closed caption along the bottom of the screen less that a minute after capture:

'Subject Name: Xxxxx X. Xxxxxxxxx Nationality and last known location: Xxxxxxxxxxxx, Xx. No weapons or explosive devices detected. Evidence both handled with the last twenty four hours. Two items of interest hidden in suspects clothing.'

The redaction's were obviously not just for dramatic effect, the woman's name and last location not to be known outside of the Heiress' very close inner circle.

The woman was stretched tightly between the two machines by wrist and ankle, as a third sliced through her boot laces and then jump suit on the left side, as another did so on the right. The boots were x-ray ed again as well, with no concerns about any incidental exposure or long term health effects for the captured woman.

When the jump suit was fully cut away from the splayed woman, the chill of her overexposure brought her back to full consciousness, thrashing about to the extent she could while being stretched nearly apart. Her screams and curses were heard on the theaters state of the art sound system before that channel of audio was nearly muted. Her sound level would be held low to spare her any sympathies from the watching men, even though all in attendance knew they were watching an event that had already happened. Just watching was provocative enough.

The woman's body was nearly perfect, tan and toned with perfectly large and natural breasts rolling about in time with her struggles as nature intended. The only imperfections in the young and fit body were the faded stripes all over it, hardly visible in the low light conditions, but indicative of some rough treatment some time it it's recent past. The men present, (being men first), likely could think of better uses for such a body, or possibly better treatment, but that was the implied advantage to having non sympathetic machines carry out such operations.

The naked woman quickly wore herself out struggling against the superior strength of her adversaries though, her body a sheen with perspiration, and increasingly desirable to the younger watching men.

While the droids that just stripped her were dissecting her jump suit and looking for the items they detected, the ones holding her started the body cavity search from hell. First her body was rotated and suspended head down, all so she wouldn't loose consciousness easily with the blood rushing to her brain, then her already splayed legs were stretched even further until the tendons across her womanhood looked about to snap, and her terrified eyes looked about to pop out of her head.

The Heiress looked around the theater covertly, some men looked professionally revolted, but all of them were wanting intently to see the results of this horror for themselves, likely consoling themselves that they were watching an event that already happened and therefor couldn't be stopped. They were by definition 'results orientated' men, their goal being to protect their countries citizens at almost any cost. By design this wasn't supposed to look pretty, in fact it was intended to look and sound so distasteful that such duties would willingly be handed over to one of her creations, less one of them have to do such things themselves to such a desirable female form when civilization and good manors demanded differently...

The body cavity probe looked quite thick and blunt, and snaked out of the droid nearest her painfully splayed legs, it at least looking as if it had some kind of lubricant on it's blunt end to ease its passage. The device entered her womanhood with little physical resistance despite it's size, her neither regions grasping at the invading device as she renewed her indignant screams with it's intrusion. The device continued to invade the inverted captive, it seen moving around on the inside of her belly and distending the flesh there obscenely.

The probe stopped it's assault and retreated, grasping something in it's head that looked inorganic, before dropping the object to another for analysis. The probe exited the woman, only to reenter her other opening, accompanied by more curses and thrashing about. The device snaked it's way around inside there as well, but came out clean, relatively speaking. The woman was held in her inverted position, her splayed legs relaxed ever so slightly. The closed captions resuming after a slight pause:

'Data storage device discovered with body cavity search, a second storage device discovered sewn inside subjects clothing, a microfilm blueprint found sewn inside subjects pocket. All three devices indicate the subject's interest is the nuclear storage facility at Lankford. Conclusion: Interrogate subject.'

The droid nearest her inverted bottom reinserted a different probe, it's purpose quite different from the first and much smaller and less intrusive overall, but highly conductive. The screen displayed the parameters of it's next operation only for clarity, as ordinarily this would be handled autonomously by an internal subroutine, the droids only reporting their results when the interrogation phase was complete.

'1kv, random application, pulse duration .5 seconds, frequency variable. Begin.'

The woman shrieked in a new and ferocious way with the first touch of the randomly placed contact electrode, but all of the current found it's way back to where it started by way of the conductive probe deep within the woman's struggling body. As she writhed about questions were asked by her mechanical tormentors, which she initially refused to answer, impressing the watching men with her courage, or possibly training. The randomly placed probe was on the end of a manipulator arm, and where it touched off, flesh responded violently. Her breasts jumped as if they had a life of their own when touched, and her core muscles flexed and rippled in time with the currents assault, attempting to escape the inescapable. Still after ten long minutes she had managed to resist her relentless tormentors, and another closed captioned message displayed along the bottom of the screen, the watching men dead silent:

'3.7kv, targeted application, pulse duration variable, frequency fixed. Begin.'

It was unpleasant for the men to watch, but the unfortunate woman answered all of the machines questions over the next fifteen minutes, stuttering nearly every other word she was under so much stress, likely not even realizing she had confessed her intentions. It's methods were one hundred percent effective, and far too sadistic for one rational human being to want do to another.

All machines from simple to state of the art performed some function humans either couldn't, or didn't want to do themselves, it was the reason for their creation in the first place. These little droids were just another evolutionary step in that process, and once accepted and deployed in mass would bring about the end of human supremacy on the planet, just as Jessica had planned, and the Heiress intended to execute. Another closed captioned message followed:

'Interrogation complete, return prisoner to origin, send report.'

The woman, or what was left of her, was suspended by her wrists from the arms of one of the droids as it moved toward the beach, the pounding surf heard in the background. She was either lifeless, or totally unresponsive in it's grasp, her body swinging obscenely in it's suspension on it's way toward the water. The demonstration thankfully ended there as the screen went black...

The less experienced men told themselves that this was an actress paid to play a part, despite what their own observations told them. The ones who had specific knowledge of interrogation and coercion methods, or any medical experience at all, knew better. There are few ways to imitate the bodies reactions to harsh electrical interrogation, not to mention the long term effects of so much exposure from an extended fluoroscope scan. Quite simply the men thought, she came out of the water, then she went back into the water, case closed and please don't tell me any more.

There were a gambit of emotions and questions after the house light went back up, but when could the delivery of some test units take place was the most common. The director sitting next the Heiress surprised her with a question of his own though. "Can we have the actual interrogation footage uploaded from the machines, and not just the results, well after all the activities have concluded, obviously?"

"Yes sir, we can do that with a simple program change that will allow the option if you would like."

"It's a horrifying yet fantastic capability all at the same time. Wherever did you find your.. Ahh... 'subject'? (The man couldn't bring himself to say the word 'victim', although she surely was.) You know she looked just a little like you in the face."

"Horrifying, yet necessary," the Heiress responded. "My machines can do things that humans just can't." The man not knowing how truthful she was being this one time. "And yes, we did have a vaguely similar facial appearance thank you, but my body looks nothing like hers did I'm afraid, no time to eat like that with everything going around here these days. All things considered, I don't think the world is ready yet for more than one of me. Do you?"

"No" the man chuckled without the slightest intended humor, flicking his eyes toward a darkened screen for less than a second that showed him the future, whether he liked it or not. If his country didn't purchase this horrible technology, some other would.

"I couldn't imagine any more than one of you."

"Neither could I sir"...

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