Hi, My Name Is Jim
Chapter 4
By Amaranth.
* * *“Thank you for fixing lunch Jean.” I told her, entering the kitchen and seeing her sitting at the table waiting for me.
“You’re welcome.”
“I need to speak to your normal waking self. Is she up to talking right now?”
“Yes, for a while.”
“How long?”
“Fifteen minutes, maybe as long as an hour.”
“How is it that you can tell how long your waking self can take being awake?”
“It is part of my function. Scott, my current owner explained that I needed to help take care of her then modified me to include that function.”
“You are aware you are artificial?”
“Yes. I was created by a worshiper of the water of life. My job is to serve and service.”
“Where is your creator now?”
“He has rejoined god.”
“Then it is his demise that has cast you adrift?”
“Yes.”
“Does Jean herself know what was done to her?”
“Yes.”
“Can she talk about it?”
“Barely. She has nightmares about it, I’m one.”
“Then how about we eat and you let your waking self out as much as she wishes so we can talk.”
“As you wish.”
“Hello Jean, my name is Jim and there is a decent chance I may be able to help you. Do you want my help?”
“WOL Energy Drinks.” Jean said with a smile as she answered the phone years later. Jean is only one of many people employed by the “Water of Life” Energy Drink Corporation. It is run by Jim, a former operator for MCI, which is Mind Control International not the telephone company. This is how he supports himself after getting kicked out of MCI.
“Hello, this is Anna, I’m with the UCA.”
“Yes ma’am, how can we help you?”
“I’m calling to place a referral for establishing an account. The UCBJ, an affiliate of sorts, recently opened and would like to carry your energy drinks. Would you have anyone available for an onsite consultation? We could call for a regular operator, but for now we want to start small in order to match our specific needs, so we need a specialist.”
“I’m sure we can find someone.” Jean answered cheerfully, “Do you need a full crew, or just an evaluation?”
“Evaluation only at first. This onsite contact is Cindy or Angelique.”
“Excellent, we can have someone there in a day or two.” Jean answered, indicating Jim needed an hour or two to be ready to go.
“Perfect, though sooner would be better. Both on site contacts are already familiar with Angirie’s Tea products, but we would appreciate a competing bid.” She answered, indicating he needed to make it the one hour, and giving them an idea of what was needed.
“Understood.”
“Contact info should be in your inbox in a few minutes. Travel and lodging arrangements can be combined with third parties already enroute if desired. Their contact info will be included of course. Of course reimbursement for travel expenses is also available.” She said indicating he was being picked up, so hurry and pack that bag.
“Thank you.” Jean replied and they both hung up.
“Sara.” Jean said as she walked into the employee lounge.
“Yes my lady.”
“Tell Nate he has this place for a few days.”
“Yes my lady.”
“Also, pack Jim some bags, two week’s worth, they have facilities onsite. Inform Scott over at MCI that the UCA has issued a consult call. We don’t want them thinking Jim or anyone else is straying from the agreement.”
“Of course not ma’am. I like the way things are.”
“Of course you do.” Jean murmured in annoyance and frustration, “Of course you do.”
“Is there a problem ma’am?”
“No.” Jean answered, looking around. “Trent, with me.”
“Yes ma’am.” Trent answered, rising to follow her after marking his place in the book he is reading.
“You know what I like?” Jean asked as they entered her office.
“Of course ma’am,” Said the former enforcer for the Inverno Carduta cult slash sexual slavery ring.
“Then go to it.” She said smiling as she undressed to lay down on the bench that folded out into a massage table.
“Of course ma’am.” He answered watching, waiting. With patience and precision he began with the soles of her feet and then followed that with minor pressure points around her toes before working his way up her legs. By the time he reached her knees she was feeling the release of her induced appetites. Jim had never been able to completely remove them, but he had been able to help her find new ways to deal with them.
Trent was one of those ways. She smiled while relaxing as he traced pressure points and massaged muscles until he finally reached her neck and shoulders. Only then did his hands stray onto her bare breasts. Her own sweat was all the lube his hands needed to glide smoothly over her body, her shuddering breath all the guide he needed to her desires.
His erection became pronounced as her nipples responded to his fingers and then his lips. Gliding fingers traced her muscular form in a sensual manner now instead of a relaxing one. Warm breath at the base of her neck traced down between her breasts teasing her erect nipples with its passing. It slowed without pausing at her belly button and then warm lips caressed her below as an even warmer tongue parted her gently, unerringly finding her favorite spot.
Shuddering breath and dilated eyes marked the beginning of her transition from her real self to the other self, the one Jim had helped her bury. As her body warmed, her sweat made his touch into a gentle stroke that ran the length of her body. From now limp shoulders to relaxed hips to now unresponsive knees, she was helpless when his tongue started in for real. His hands locked on her bare breasts, his grip, his kneading, his touch completing her transition from her real self to the other self, the controlled one.
From the moment her body responded, from the start of her climax, all the way through the afterglow of orgasm, she was now vulnerable. If he were to speak, if he were to issue an order, to tell her to do something, she would obey, do as she were told. Even after she left this state she would obey.
His touch held her captive and obedient. Yet even as his tongue finished, even as her back arched, even as he pinched her nipples, Trent said nothing. He couldn’t, yet. At this moment Jean is totally controlled. All he would have to do is tell her to keep obeying him and she would. For the entire day, she would obey him until she next slept if so ordered. However, he can’t because, although he is complete control of the moment, she is in complete control of the situation.
With one whisper he could take her mind and will, but he is still mute as he moves to fill her. She is unmoving, still half arched, when he thrusts the first time. She gasps, unable to do more in response. Her mind is not truly suspended though, just slowed. Then her back arches fully as her sight darkens before whiting out. Dread fills her for a timeless moment, then he is withdrawing. His grip loosens. His touch is no more and she is free again. This time, this moment, is over. Her appetites are met, her urges once again sated. Her mind is truly once more hers, for now. Until next time.
“Thank you Trent, go get cleaned up now.”
“Yes my lady.” He pants as he draws his clothes back on.
“Thank you.” She whispers.
“Of course my lady.” He replies as he exits. Jean continues to lie there for several minutes before moving. Then she slowly rises, testing her rubbery legs before trusting them to support her to her private shower. Two hours later she is back at work. She is ready for another week or two, until the cycle started in again.
“What have we got?” Jim asked Sara minutes later as he sat down in his office while Jean dealt with her needs.
“We have another contact through the UCA, a referral of sorts.” Sara replied. She was just as happy to serve him now as she had been when he acquired her several years ago. Though not directly related to why he had been kicked out of MCI, she was none the less part of the reason, more accurately, her younger sister Susan was.
No one had minded when he used club techniques to help his then girlfriend lose some weight and find self confidence. It hadn’t turned an eye when he had taken full advantage of Sara when she stumbled across him helping Misty. No one had cared when he housebroke her, making her into a great little domestic, especially since she had actually retained her own personality. Even if that personality was that of a well known prick tease with nasty streak that reveled in her power to make trouble for others.
What had annoyed them initially was his handling of a probationary member who had broken the rules during probation. Yes, Nate had messed up. Yes, Nate had needed discipline. No, no one had questioned Nate having his memory messed with until his goof, the girl he had tried to take control of, had passed the age minimum.
What they had objected to at first was Jim scoring an underage blowjob from Nate’s goof, Teresa. This was exacerbated by him having gotten it from her via blackmail while forcing her to service him while she gave her virginity to Nate. At the same time that Nate and Teresa were made into model boyfriend and girlfriend. If Jim had taken her himself then his memories and identity would have been redacted, and new, better behaved ones given to him.
By itself, this was a disciplinary mark, no more. However, two months later Teresa had learned enough of MCI operations to ask for help from Scott, Nate’s sponsor. The next weekend, in response to her appeal, Scott and an auditor visited Jim. What they walked in on had been mostly self-explanatory. They found Teresa, nude, kneeling in front of Jim as he sat at his computer. She was holding her ankles with her hands, unable to let go, and giving him a blowjob while he read the news. Sara, cleaning the house in a French maid outfit had been fine them, expected even. Her younger sister Susan, only mostly in costume, still on his bed, obviously well used that morning, and happy about it, had started the bad tidings for Jim.
Only a single vote had spared his identity for the moment. His sentence included keeping a blemish free record for the next fourteen years, seven for each of his transgressions. Also, his MCI membership was revoked, possibility permanently. Nine years in to his sentence he is getting nervous. His reputation for and ability with out of the box solutions to out of the box and esoteric problems is now generating a continuous stream of jobs that pushed the envelope.
“Another UCA contact? We just did a video consult with them a few weeks ago, now what?” He asked, wincing as some part of him insisted on reviewing the sordid details of his crimes yet again. This lead him to suspect that impulse and automatic replay may have been implanted in him, since it happened a lot. This review happened especially when thinking about anything close to his boundaries, which due to his reputation and abilities, happened a lot.
“New case, rather, cases.”
“Cases?”
“Yes sir, they apparently have two of them they would like your take on.”
“Great.” He groaned. Leave it to the UCA to push his boundaries for him. Mindy in particular seemed to take great pride in finding the edge of allowable territory.
“They also asked if we know or have anyone available with working knowledge of Dr. Amari Tangarii’s work.”
“Tangerii?” He asked, correcting her. The UCA asking about her work surprised him, doubly so since they themselves are recipients of at least some of the fruits her labors, via the mad woman known simply as ‘Mindy’. Everyone knows the UCA got some of its gifts from her, and some from other places, and some they have only ever seen from the other side.
“Yes sir. No context was given however, so I cannot gauge the importance.”
“No problem, if those people have questions then it is something new.”
“I also informed Scott at MCI before securing travel arrangements.”
“Excellent, thank you, when do we leave?” Jim replied, relieved. Scott was still more or less his friend despite what had happened. Scott’s abstainment, his refusal to vote at all, had been the single vote that had spared Jim, and only because abstained votes were weighted toward not guilty by not being subtracted from the dividing number of a full council. Scott had faced hard questions about that, but claimed that he couldn’t be neutral and judge by the facts alone, so he chose not to judge at all.
Scott, his ‘Friend’, rode Jim hard. He had challenged Jim’s statements and parts of his testimony, ultimately giving Jim more breathing room since no one could accuse Scott of playing favorites. It had also been Scott’s idea for Nate to join Jim here at WOL instead of finishing his internship at MCI. Jim personally suspected they were using Nate as a spy, but he didn’t care. His mind remained his own and that was good enough for now, and for five more years as well. Beyond that, the future could take care of itself.
“We are meeting a private jet currently on route to Valley Regional at Parkersburg. We will be embarking there then flying west. Scott and another MCI rep will meet us in Cincinnati. They already have another MCI operator they picked up from New York. Apparently the UCA is restructuring itself in some way and this is a byproduct of that restructuring.”
“How long until they land?”
“They touched down in New York coming from Mecca via London fifty minutes ago. ETA Parkersburg is four to five hours. Their stop here is touch and go only.”
“Damn! Just for us?”
“Yes sir. I also received a download for you. It’s on the secure laptop waiting for you with your luggage which should be ready in another ten minutes.”
“Overview?”
“The UCA has stepped up.”
“They actually joined the alliance?” Jim asked, startled. “As a member? A full member?”
“Yes sir, it would appear so. Rumor has it they have over two dozen messengers scattered across the globe, including New Zealand and Australia according to some of the other secretaries I spoke with coordinating travel arrangements.”
“Any idea why?” Jim asked, puzzled. The common wealth had its own version of the UCA, not as high class, not as much of anything, but they tried hard, very hard. They did have a few former UCA girls Mindy had released to go for reasons of her own. As usual, no one knew what those reasons were, but they had been helpful and helped improve both safety, a constant for Mindy, and their ability to operate without drawing attention. The only country where both operated is Canada, and the occasional trip to England or elsewhere in Europe, so what were UCA girls doing in the south pacific of all places? It was a puzzle.
“Best guess, they reseeded a cloud dancer.”
“They what?” Jim gasped. He was startled that the US government had been willing to part with the previous generation secure crypto system. “Wait, are you saying they shut it down, then did a complete reboot of the whole chain with their own keys and seeds?”
“That is the consensus on the secretary net.” She answered seriously though hesitantly, “We have to keep track of you guys, half of you only remember to eat when we feed you or shower when we send someone to wash you. If we didn’t keep track you no one would. Also, I mentioned the cloud dancer systems a few weeks ago.”
“I know.” He mumbled frowning as he acknowledged her point, “Bold, that would mean they used the girls as seed carriers. But what about seed security?”
“The girls all stayed three days on site at each location, with just the local operator or rep, while the system cycled and updated.”
“So the girls only knew the seeds long enough to type them in to start the system, and since two days passed on assignment, it’s gone from their minds.”
“That is what it looks like.”
“They’ve avoided becoming strategic for years, why now?”
“No one knows.” Sara answered, “We have been asking that for weeks now, and none of us or any of our bosses have a clue.”
“Get us both packed then.”
“Yes sir.” Sara replied smoothly as she turned and left.
“Now what?” Jim asked of the universe at large, not even hoping for an answer, but feeling better for the demand.
“Scott my man, how goes it.” Jim says high fiving Scott who pointedly doesn’t return it.
“Jim, the board is not happy about this.” Scott says seriously as he surveys the small airport, pointedly ignoring Sara.
“I didn’t call them, they called me.”
“I know, and it wasn’t really they who called you either.”
“It wasn’t?”
“No, MI-6 recommended you.”
“I’ve never been to England.”
“Never said you had, but this has everyone nervous.”
“What exactly is ‘This’?” Jim asks as they board.
“This.” Scott answers as they find seats, speaking over the engines spooling up, “Is a royal cluster fuck.”
“I gathered that. SNAFU or FUBAR at the very least I dare say. I caught something about the UCA stepping up.”
“And how,” Scott replied frustrated, “they are now full partners in the alliance.”
“What the? How?”
“They have a new leader.” Scott answered flatly, “And before you ask, yes, they elected him.”
“Him?”
“Yes, him.”
“Oh crap.”
“It gets better.”
“Umm.” Jim mumbles.
“According to the intelligence people over at NCA, Non Consensual Amalgamated, the bondage toy people, Mindy is showing several pre signs to a true collapse. They say she has less than a year, and it is their consensus that she knows it.”
“Do IC or ICU know it yet?”
“No sign they do. Inverno Carduta and Inverno Caduta Universal both seem to be carrying on normally, which if they had a clue...”
“They wouldn’t.” Jim said firmly, ignoring the feel of flying, which he doesn’t like, by force of will. “Either branch, blood only, or the open recruiters, would hold an open party to celebrate her passing. They might even invite us.”
“And we anticipate they will, likely within a year, whether they invite us or not.”
“They will, even if only to gloat.” Jim grimaced, “Not good, they’ve held back because of her.”
“We know, she terrifies them, way more than we understand why.” Scott agreed as he held out three folders. “These are the onsite protocols and the three they want your evaluation on. One is from Saudi Arabia, another is from London, the third is an odd case. She was attacked and, not to be indelicate, damaged.”
“Damaged?” Jim asks, concerned by the description. “That’s an odd word to use. Three?”
“Yes, three, and you’ll understand when you see her. She’s one of the UCA girls, they did something to her, something bad. Her mind broke.”
“How? They cave her head in?” Jim joked knowing how resistant the UCA people are to most anything anyone can do without physically damaging the brain itself.
“No, and other than that we don’t know, all we know so far is she was no longer wild or catatonic after being what they called tamed.” Scott answered. “Drug regimens were tried, but the parents did not react well to seeing their daughter doing a live action audition as a drooling zombie.”
“As long as the brain is intact there is a way.” Jim answered with a grimace.
“That’s part of what got you in so much hot water.” Scott chided.
“That’s also why they called me.” Jim answered, opening the files to begin his studies to distract himself from flying and his friends time tamped anger. He ignores his fellow passengers, as they do him, and the three stops they make.
“I can’t believe they let you put the sign up.” Jim laughed looking at the UCBJ drive in.
“It took a little effort, but it was well worth it.” The young man introduced as Wilhelm replied with a smile. Jim’s eyes, however, were drawn to the carhops on roller skates and roller blades taking orders and delivering food under the huge awning.
“I agree.” Jim replied with a smile as he took in the late afternoon scenery.
“Hey Wil,” A young woman said walking up. She looked 17, was blond with the biggest chest Jim had ever seen, but not quite right. She was an easy E, maybe F cup. “I found the metabolic precursors for neural stimulation and regrowth.”
“Great Angelique. That will save a lot of hassle. How much have we got?”
“Eleven and half bottles. I have one and half here. The rest are in the cold crypt.”
“You have derived precursors?” Jim asked surprised, recognizing the description from his own studies over the years, and being surprised they would have them on hand.
“No,” Angelique replied, turning to him. “These are original, in the organic glycerol base.”
“I didn’t know any were left.” Jim said, unable to avoid staring at her chest.
“Sixty plus or minus three degrees the whole time.” She answered glaring at him staring.
“Are you?” Jim asked. His eyes were drawn to the little things about Angelique that didn’t add up. She looked seventeen body wise, and a very healthy seventeen. However, little things like the corners of the eyes, her nostrils, the way her hair grew, the muscles in her legs and other things too tiny to stand alone, told another story. Only those with particular tastes or backgrounds would see, let alone be able to read this story.
“Am I what?”
“Have you received treatments based on Dr. Tanjarii’s work?” Jim asked puzzled.
“No,” Angelique laughed. “I spent a year getting treatment from her directly.”
“How old are you?” Jim asked, afraid of the answer.
“Fourteen, almost fifteen.” Angelique answered after a glance at Wilhelm.
“Incredible,” Jim answered, trying not to drool openly. He knew what his eyes showed but tried to concentrate anyway. “But what I need to ask is if those precursors are the vitamin D or the serotonin based ones?”
“Neither, those were both unstable, these are glial amylase.”
“She solved it?” Jim asked, shocked, referring to the Dr. Tangerii’s work on nerve repair.
“Yes.”
“Incredible.”
“This way.” Wilhelm said, breaking in. He gestured toward a large warehouse across the parking lot.
“Damn!” Jim whispered in shock as they entered the warehouse. Inside it bore no resemblance to the outside. Ramshackle ill matched paint and siding hid an exercise studio doubling as a Dojo, two isolation rooms, a two bed operating theater, and the glance up at the loft area said a full laboratory to match the rest. It looked new, brand new, he could still smell the paint.
“You knew Dr. Tanjerii?” Someone asks, startling him. When he turns to answer, he finds himself looking upward into dark eyes framed in blond hair topping an easy D cup chest on an athlete’s body a full six feet tall.
“Yes.” He answers with a gulp, part of him shriveling in response to the curious tone with flat voice.
“Good.” The tall woman says glancing at Sara. “I see you brought your own entertainment.”
“She is my assistant.” He replies, trying to make his voice deeper and more authoritative. He winces internally when he hears how much the sudden tightness in his throat shows.
“Also I would guess, Cindy by the way.” She replied offering a hand to shake.
“Yes, also.” He replied, trying not to stare.
“Thought so.” Cindy replied with a smirk. “Try any of that here and you won’t just get discipline.”
“Yes ma’am.” Jim heard himself answer.
“Good, just so we understand each other.” She groused with a false smile, “I’ve read your file, and your transcripts.”
“Oh.”
“Yes, oh. Understand something. You’re only here because Mindy vouched for you. That buys you a chance, a solid chance, but still, just a chance.”
“And?”
“A chance to not be the person we know from your records. I, we, all of us, know why you were booted from MCI. As for why Mindy chose you, no idea, but she always has a reason.”
“Yes she does.” Jim agreed firmly, happy to not hear a quiver from himself that time.
“You’ve met Angelique. She’s one of the girls we want you to look at. The next is Virginia. She is the quiet looking mute one over by the weights. The young man with her is James. He is in charge of her. The woman with them today is Clarissa. She is their chaperon.”
“Chaperon?” Jim asked, slipping into work mode.
“Yes, Virginia is the one who was electrosexually tortured. She is bonded to him until her mind begins reassembling.”
“I remember her, her case that is. I got several calls.”
“Good. Now, we also want a second opinion on whether anyone has done anything with a Saudi girl and an English girl. We know the English girl has been tampered with to some extent. We want your take on likely booby traps. We only suspect tampering with this Saudi girl though, we apparently have several more incoming over the next few weeks to months.”
“No problem. I can come back if needed.”
“The last is a last minute addition. We need an estimate of what kind of operator she is. Mindy thinks she knows, but figures that since you’re here anyway, we may as well get a second opinion.”
“Of course. Now when and where do we start?”
“After lunch, you can start with Angelique. When you get to Virginia, remember, tell James what to have her do. Try not to touch her yourself. Have the Chaperon or him touch her if at all possible for any tests you need to do.”
“Got it, does she talk?”
“Some, very limited.”
“I can work with that. You mentioned lunch.”
“Tenna.” Cindy shouted, “Guide duty, lunch and back here, then take him to Angelique.”
“Yes ma’am.” A five six redhead with maybe a B cup answered in a mumble, getting up from a chair where she had been studying.
“Tenna?” Jim asked when the young lady approached. He estimated her age at twenty.
“Yes.”
“Hi,” He said offering his hand, “I’m Jim. Mindy called me in to do a consult.”
“Hi Jim.” Tenna answered in Tennessee meets Italy accented voice that carried no warmth as she indicates the way out. “I’m here to guide you, nothing more. This is not an assignment.” She finished gruffly. This is her way of announcing that he has no rights to her, and that she will remember everything.
“I know.” Jim replied, rebuffed and not understanding the strength of it.
“I also know who you are.” Tenna went on as they walked, answering Jim’s unspoken question. “I also retain my own mind and will.”
“I would expect nothing less of the UCA.” Jim replied honestly.
“As you’ve been told, Mindy called you in, fine. Just do me a favor.”
“If I can.”
“Behave. Don’t make my job any harder.”
“Certainly.”
“Excellent.” She said, stopping and turning to face him. “So I’ll make this simple.”
“Perfect.” Jim answered, hoping to understand the level of hostility he was encountering.
“Point one; one of your targets was underage. Point one A, you used blackmail to control this underage girl when, if she had to be taken or stopped, conditioning would the proper method.”
“Ok.” Jim gulped.
“Point one B, you forced this underage girl to sacrifice her virginity while giving you a blowjob via blackmail. Then you used light conditioning to place her in a sexual pseudo relationship with an apprentice who was himself being disciplined.”
“Umm...”
“Point one C, you then used blackmail to use her sexually. You also used blackmail to either trick or force her into to allowing herself to be customized for your sexual pleasure on the weekends. This created a perpetual loop whereby her obedience made her more obedient the more she obeyed, all while still underage. The result of which was that she sexually pleasured her purported boyfriend during the week and then knelt by your bed, happy to be of service on the weekends. All of this delayed her development by several years, and would have lead to her being your property, not even an actual individual in her own right, by the time she twenty at the latest, more likely by eighteen.”
“Umm...”
“Point two; your appliance’s sister was not a player or a threat, yet you conditioned and customized her for your pleasure. You then loaned this girl to a fellow operator, telling him she was a player that you had dealt with.”
“Hey.” Jim replied startled at how much she knew.
“Point two A. This resulted in a sixteen year old who would kneel in her French maid working outfit at the foot of your bed on the weekends. She expected, and looked forward to, you or your designates using her sexually for the weekend. She also remained yours to call on freely in any manner you wanted with you or anyone you designated in her purported free time. In effect making your actual slave since she had no free time that was actually hers either. You stunted her growth for seven years as she looked for ways to serve you.”
“Yeah...”
“Well all that leaves me with only one question.”
“I wasn’t thinking much.” Jim admitted.
“Not my question.”
“What would that be then?”
“Whether cutting off both of your testicles would count as one or two black marks on my disciplinary record.”
“Gahh..”
“Not used to women talking back?”
“Umm...” Jim murmured gulping, “I don’t think I’m hungry anymore.”
“March.” Tenna ordered, pointing toward the UCBJ. Jim had no reply.
“Hi, I’m Angelique.” She said, greeting him when Tenna guided them back to a now mostly empty place.
“I’m Jim, but I’m afraid no one has really told me what is expected of me other than they want my opinion or my take on several of you. I can also tell most of you don’t want me here.”
“At the moment what we want is beside the point. We need some specific information.” Angelique told him flatly.
“Ask away.”
“No, unfortunately what we need is more complicated than that.”
“Ok...now then.” Jim said attempting a recovery, “Someone said one of the girls I was not to touch and I got the implication I was not to approach very close physically either.”
“Yes, Virginia. She is the torture victim.”
“Then I have a suggestion. How about you finish clearing this space and we do the four of you at once.”
“All of us at once?” Angelique asked with a grin.
“You know what I mean.” Jim said with a wince in Tenna’s direction.
“Tenna’s kind of intense, focused.”
“Early rape victim I would guess.”
“At twelve, during her third period. It started her downward spiral. That was eight years ago. If she has a good enough disciplinary record Mindy promised that her 21st birthday present is the name of the town where the bastard is and a month off, no questions asked.”
“Oh.” Jim whispered as the true level of his personal danger became apparent.
“She averages one mark per month, has six months to go, and six marks left.”
“Crap.” Jim grimaced, “Do I or for that matter, anyone near me, have anything to do with any of those remaining marks, or her upcoming vacation?”
“We’ll be ready in a few minutes.” Angelique said ignoring his question as she turned away. In ten minutes the place was deserted except for essential personal, and to Jim’s discontent, Tenna.
“Ok now.” Jim said, addressing his now limited audience, “The first thing I need is body and muscular profiles on all of you. I know you have the ones you use in the UCA. The ones I need are different.”
“And?” Tenna asks.
“What I need is one individual with each of the four girls to take the same measurements I take on Sara here. Each of you assume the same pose that Sara does as I take them.”
“We can do that.”
“Nude, so disrobe, you to Sara.” Jim said looking at Sara, deliberately not at anyone else. “As you take the measurements, enter them in the tables on the screen of the datapads. This will store them on my machine. I can review them when we are done and see what if anything needs to be done next.”
“How many measurements?” Someone asks.
“Over a hundred. The cross over vitals have already been entered so all we are doing is filling out the data you don’t use in your profiles.”
“And first?” Angelique asks. Jim is tempted to look, but knowing Tenna is watching, he manages not to.
“We begin with the relaxed set. Sara, skeletal base set, muscular base line, position one.” Jim says projecting his voice so everyone can hear him clearly, “And don’t worry about so many different people taking measurements, as long as only one person does the measurements on any one person, I can work with it.”
“Yes sir.” She answers, assuming the pose. The next hour passes with Sara setting the pose, then the other girls being measured as she is. Glimpses show that, to Jim’s surprise, Stewart is measuring Virginia. To his amusement, Tenna is doing Angelique, looking to Jim’s eye very healthy looking seventeen indeed, who then does Tenna giving him five not four sets of measurements, with yet another of them in charge of poses for the two.
“Angelique.” Jim says after studying the completed figures for a while. “Find a robe and join me please. Virginia, thank you for your time, I’ll get to you later. Alaleh, thank you for your time, I have a couple of checks for the UCA to do, but you look clean. Brenda, thank you for your time. Since you likely have some questions why don’t you come here and we’ll get you taken care of first.”
“Ok.” Echoes from several people.
“Sara.” Jim whispers to her, “ripcord.”
“Understood.” She whispers back as Brenda approaches.
“Tenna, since you are also a baseline, you as well.” Jim said speaking up.
“What for?” Tenna asked gruffly as she retucked her robe over shoulders, though joining Brenda who was standing quietly.
“A moment.” He said motioning Brenda to stand still as he circled her then stopped behind her, “Lose the robe please Brenda, parade rest.”
“What?” Brenda demanded in a quiet London drawl.
“Tenna come here, I want to show you part of why I am here.”
“Its ok, Brenda, do it.” Angelique interjects.
“Yes ma’am.” The teen answered angrily as the robe fell, her accent as hard as her words, “I still don’t know why my parents ordered me to cooperate with you yanks, but they were quite specific about it, blunt in fact. Being told to cooperate or else by both MI-6 and palace security is weird. They don’t get along.”
“In a moment, I’m going to touch you, but only to show Tenna some things.” Jim says while motioning Tenna to be quiet.
“Just get it over with.”
“You’re from near the palace?” Jim asked as he traced muscle groups, showing them to the puzzled, hence irritable Tenna.
“Of course, practically grew up there.”
“Did you live in Mayfair, Soho or in Covent?” He asked as he traced muscles on her back while Tenna looked more and more puzzled as she watched.
“Covent, and its Covent Garden by the way.”
“Thought so, so very little time in Hyde park, Kensington or Regent’s park?” He asked as he traced a line of muscle just above her hips from her lumbar around to her crotch.
“Why would I?” She demanded losing patience, “Are you done yet?”
“How many times a week do you and your boyfriend spend the night together?” He asked as he guided Tenna’s hand along a muscle group around Brenda’s hips from her buttocks this time, to the front.
“None of your business.” She answered angrily.
“Actually, unfortunately, it is my business.”
“Why?” Was the frosty demand.
“Tenna, feel this group here.” Jim said pointing just above Brenda’s pelvis.
“What for?” She asked poking as indicated.
“Because that is one of the biggest giveaways.”
“What is?”
“That kind of shape, it results from a particular type of activity.”
“Huhh?”
“Brenda, what the first thing that comes to mind if I say guacamole sherbet potatoes?”
“What the hell?” Are Brenda’s next words, but not in her voice or accent. A moment’s hesitation gives Jim enough time to duck the swing at him that is intercepted by Sara. The struggle is short, Sara is older, heavier, in better shape, and knew what was coming.
“What the hell?” Tenna demands while trying to comprehend the change.
“That is a Delilah, and a good one.” Jim answers as several of the UCA girls subdue the now savage Brenda.
“Who the hell are you?” Brenda demands, still in the new voice, a gentle bit of great lakes blended with a strong New Jersey twang. “You broke protocols. You exposed me! How? And how dare you?”
“What the hell? How did you know?” Tenna asks beyond surprised.
“First, trank her but don’t use Ketamine or any other memory disrupter. She’ll react badly to them.” Jim says as he debates how to answer, “As for the how, I’m somewhat of a sick bastard, used to be a lot sicker. I know the drill.”
“The drill?”
“Damn this girl is strong.” Someone grunts just before a loud smack.
“Two syringes.” Jim orders one of the UCA girls standing back, “One CC point one percent Lidocaine, topical needle. Five CC’s point one percent Lidocaine set for intramuscular.”
“Do it.” Tenna orders when the girl hesitates.
“Which first?” The runner asks holding both out when she returns.
“One CC and turn her on her stomach when you can.” He says to the girls holding Brenda down, while taking it and checking for air.
“Gmmph.” Brenda gasps as she is turned over and pinned by simple weight.
“Now whoever you are.” Jim says as he pokes at several places near the top of her shoulder blades before sticking the needle in beside the spine, “Go limp or I put one CC of Lidocaine directly in the nerve that controls your diaphragm. Then you spend the next two minutes choking to death as your breathing finishes shutting down.”
“Bastard.” She grunts, but goes limp.
“Hold this in place.” Jim orders, motioning for the disturbed looking Tenna to take the one CC syringe.
“Ok.” Tenna says, taking it, unsure what is coming next.
“Thank you.” Jim says, taking the other syringe. He then pokes at several places around her shoulders before making three tiny injections on each. As her arms go slack he checks places near her hips before making three more tiny injections on each side and her legs go slack as well. “That will hold her for a while.”
“What did you do?” Tenna asks as she withdraws the syringe she is holding while standing up.
“Basically, paralyzed her.” Jim answered. He handed the empty syringe back as they turn her over. “Her limbs that is. She retains control of her torso so breathing is unencumbered. However, now you will have no trouble putting her in restraints while figuring out what to do with her.”
“What did they do?”
“They made her into an unknowing spy tool. Her waking self has no idea what has been done.” Jim answered thinking, “More than likely her baseline personality is completely intact. If you can suppress this, she should be fine.”
“No, we know they modded her. My question is what technique did they use? And how did you spot it?”
“I can show you the rest of what I checked. It’s easy to find when you know what to look for.”
“Not that, I have some idea from your exam. You knew before the test, how?”
“I’m not that person anymore. I’m not even the person who got caught breaking the rules and ejected from MCI any longer.”
“What did they do?” Tenna repeats getting frustrated and hence angry.
“Do my records go far enough back to show I didn’t start out with MCI?”
“They start with MCI.”
“To bad, but there are things I can’t do anymore, places in my mind I don’t go.”
“Why?”
“I can’t answer that, not that I won’t, and I wouldn’t if I could, but I can’t. I literally can’t.”
“Later then I guess. We can do the last one tomorrow since this is going t take the rest of the day and likely most of the evening. Why don’t you take your toy with you and get a good night’s sleep. We start just after nine in the morning.”
“Fine.” Jim answered, knowing he was running, but not able to care. What he had just seen disturbed him deeply, it has implications, and not good ones.
“You are tense.” Sara said hours later as they lay in bed in one of the spare rooms in the upstairs part of the UCBJ.
“I know.”
“What can I do?” She asks as her fingers expertly trace muscle groups in his back and legs.
“You are.” He answers dejected.
“This is helping your body, but not your mind.” She declares as one responds but the other.
“There is no help for my mind.”
“There is always hope.” She answers the not a question as one hand slides between his legs to stroke him as the other hits pressure points along his lumbar region before starting on his buttocks then down his legs.
“You are too good to me.” He replied turning over as he awkwardly raised one leg over her so she didn’t have to stop giving him a hand job.
“I am as I am meant to be, as I am supposed to be.” She smiled, exactly as intended, exactly as she had been made to be, every movement perfection, every word welcoming, everything about her existing to serve and service him. Now, not for the first time, he has doubts. She is perfect. She does everything he wants. She is everything any male could want. She is beautiful, devoted, loyal, experienced, knowledgeable and even eager. Yet all at once it rings hollow.
She belongs to him, is his, but he doesn’t want her. His body, as always, craves her. As he lets it take the lead, he sighs inside with a loneliness he has no words for. He is missing something he lost years ago. Though he can no longer find words, he still misses Misty. He hates that he lost her. The rage she felt had been expected, and he had borne it because he had it coming. What had really hurt was that she felt betrayed, and now he finally understands it. Sara, his possession, engaged his body but repulsed his mind. Oddly, she controlled the moment as she rode him to a perfect climax that now provided no relief, no release. Exhausted, he finally slept.
Jim looked at the man who had just walked in with his eye candy. He matched the picture in the file for his next appointment. She matched something else completely. What drew Jim’s eye was not the man, it was the eye candy. She is five six and has solid C cup breasts that barely jiggle when she walks. Her hair is a vaguely dirty blond with no highlights and her eyes are a bright blue. Her cheek bones ride a little low in her face, and her nose just a tiny bit too small. Whether you look at her face, her hips, her legs or any other part of her, she is all woman. All in all she is a very desirable woman, but there is something wrong with her. All her pieces don’t seem to fit together the way should, there is a wrongness to it, to her, yet somehow she makes that wrongness work. There is no sashay in her walk. She walks normally, but something about her walk draw the male eye like flies to a sweet roll. A hundred little things, each miniscule, each meaningless on their own, stand out boldly to his experienced eye.
“Sara.” Jim says starting writing on his notepad.
“Yes.”
“Get the paperwork started on the UCA or some division of it buying us out.”
“Of course sir, but why?”
“Nate will need the shelter later.” Jim answered. As he spoke he wrote a two page letter, all the while watching the man and woman as they cross the room talking to people, just be sure. Finally sure after a couple of minutes watching as he wrote, he put the letter with a couple of notes in an envelope before handing it to her.
“From what?” She asked, taking it and putting it in her purse when she saw her name on it.
“Open that after we are done here.”
“Yes sir.”
“Right now I need you to go tell Tenna that I said lockdown, but only once I get to the isolation room.”
“Yes sir.” Sara said, moving toward the upstairs office while he moved to intercept the visitor crossing the middle of the Dojo area floor.
“Right this way.” Jim said to the man and his eye candy, motioning them toward an open isolation room.
“Is there a problem?” The man asks.
“No.” Jim answers as they approach the room. “More in the nature of a delay.”
“A delay?”
“Yes.” Jim answers, gesturing for the eye candy to precede them in and have a seat.
As she does, the man asks, “What kind of delay? I’m on a schedule.”
“Tenna will explain in just a minute, she’s on her way now.” Jim answers. He gently pushes the man back while typing a number from memory into the keypad by the door engaging one of the isolation modes. Jim rushes in closing the door behind him, it locks.
“What the hell?” The man demands, trying the door to no avail. The door display indicates the room is now in lockdown. He can see in it just fine, but he can’t communicate or enter.
“Hello, my name is Jim.” He says to the eye candy as he takes a seat across the room from her.
“What is happening?” She asks, far too calm for Jim’s likes.
“Think of this as a kind of interview.” Jim says with a smile. “I have a couple of serious questions for you that I don’t think you wanted your date to hear.”
“What kind of questions?” Tenna hears over the outside speaker while she waits for the codes to release the room’s isolation mode, while also trying to calm their visitor.
“What is happening?” The man demands. “Who is that?”
“That is Jim. He is a former operator for MCI. We have him here doing some consulting on a couple of other cases.” Tenna answers. “He was supposed to be introduced to you two later to give us a second opinion.”
“Why is he doing this? What is he doing?”
“No idea, yet.” Tenna answers as a beep sounds from her phone and a string of numbers appears.
“I need you to do me a favor.” Jim says when he hears the door latch sound.
“What kind of favor?” The eye candy asks with a leer, looking directly at him.
“Carry on my wayward son.” Jim says in a particular cadence. If this had been a rodeo Jim would have made the horn, he would have ridden that horse, that steer, he did his eight seconds, and then some. However, this is not a rodeo. This is an agent with a blown cover trying to kill her exposer so she can get away.
Security takes twenty seconds to respond. Jim buys them twelve, then runs out of seconds to give away. He takes his last breath as Tenna realizes that there is no reasoning with whatever the woman has become and closes the door once again. She engages the isolation locks from the inside this time while Jim buys her the time. The battle lasts another thirty seconds. Tenna is prepared, fresh, undamaged and a full UCA member. She prevails over the winded and wounded woman.
Sara pulls out the letter minutes later as the aftermath plays out below. The man doesn’t want to listen to the idea that he had been bedding an assassin who had him for a target once she was done with him. The evidence however is overwhelming, and he is not taking it well.
“Dear Sara,” She reads when she opens the letter. “I know this is a lot to dump on you all at once, but I don’t have any choice. I’m out of time. My past has came back to haunt me.”
“No problem.” Sara answers as though she were talking to him in person.
“Nate takes over the non public part of company until the buyout is complete.” She hears his voice in her head, knowing she will never hear it again in person. “Thank you for taking care of that. The power of attorney paperwork is already in place, you know I always cover contingencies. This letter, shown to our attorney, gives you control of everything pending the sale. Tell Nate to take shelter in the UCA, and to hold nothing back, he doesn’t dare, not after this.”
“I can do that.” She answers.
“As for you, I hereby give back what I once stole. There is a second note in here. Once the sale goes through, give it to Nate. Do not tell him about it until then. In my suitcase, there is purple and green cold box. Give the contents to Angelique’s owner, Wilhelm. Tell him it is for oral training. Nate can fill him in on the details. For your information, it is how I imprinted you to me. If you are offered a place in the UCA, tell them you want to think about it after the sale is complete, not before. After that you will have to decide for yourself, and by that point you will be able to.”
“Ok.” Sara answered, confused but obedient.
“The reason you are the way you are is somewhat my fault. I did that to you. It is also somewhat your own fault because of what you and your friends did to Misty. You got her drunk. You put her in a compromising position when she wasn’t in her right mind. This was my revenge for her that she couldn’t get on her own. I hope you understand some day. My best, Jim.”
“My best as well.” Sara whispered as she rose to call Nate and ensure the paperwork went through so the sale could be completed as quickly as possible. Nate has lots of work to do now, lots of things to tell the UCA, and she has a job as well, ensuring it all happens. With a smile she dialed the lawyers to get things started.