Stark: Hammer into Anvil | Part 2: The Long Goodbye

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With Jo Stark in the grip of the belated revenge of the women who made her, Jeff finds unexpected allies right around the corner, and learns that, as usual in his world, things are not always as they appear ...

Stark: Hammer Into Anvil
Part 2: The Long Goodbye

by Randalynn

"There's a long goodbye, and it happens everyday,
When some passerby invites your eye to come her way ...

Even as she smiles a quick hello, you've let her go, you've let the moment fly
Too late you'd turn your head, you'd know you've said, the long goodbye ..."
--The Long Goodbye, lyrics by Johnny Mercer

"My brain is the key that sets my mind free." -- Harry Houdini

###

Jeff was still trying to catch his breath and stop the tears when a black Citroen sedan pulled up beside him. The door swung open.

"Jeff! Get in!"

He found himself looking at a little blonde girl dressed in a pink chiffon dress. She wore white gloves and knee socks, and shiny white shoes, and a white hat with the brim turned up all the way around. She looked strangely familiar.

It took him a second, and when it came to him, the name slipped out in a whisper.

"Craig?" The girl sighed.

"Call me Chrissy when I'm out like this, okay?" she replied. "Less confusion for the mundanes."

Jeff nodded, and her tiny voice turned hard. "Good. Now get in the car before we lose her!"

The former cop stumbled forward and fell into the back seat beside her. The car lurched forward once, and the door beside him slammed shut in response.

"Go!" the girl shouted, banging on the seat back in front of her. The engine roared, and the tires spun an instant before the sedan grabbed pavement and hurled onto the street.

"Don't get your knickers in a twist, missy," the man in the chauffeur's cap growled. "Her Ladyship’s wired up seven ways from Sunday. She’s not going anywhere we can't follow. Hey, Jeff!"

He leaned forward and stared into the rear view mirror. "Chesser?"

"The one and only." The hacker grinned and reached up to touch the brim of his cap, then grabbed the wheel with both hands and turned hard to avoid a fruit stand on the corner. The suspension complained with a chorus of squeaks and groans as the car briefly rose onto two wheels during the turn, but Chesser hit the gas and the engine responded with an angry roar that told the rest of the car to behave itself or else.

"What the hell are you doing in Paris?" Jeff shouted over the horns of other motorist and the screams of pedestrians as his hands looked in vain for the rear seat's safety belts. "You're a hacker, not a chauffeur!"

"I AM hacking, copper," he replied, glancing at the obviously modified GPS device on the dashboard. "She's headed right to the Moulin Rouge, like she's got a damned compass in her head."

"Good!" Craig replied. She reached up to touch an earring, and Jeff realized it was a radio pair, just like the ones Jo wore. "She's on track, everyone. Keep a loose perimeter on her but let her run. We want her in the red light district, and that's where she's heading."

"Let her run?" Jeff's eyes bugged out, and he grabbed Chrissy by the shoulders and turned her to face him. "Are you crazy? In the state she's in? Who knows what kind of maniac she could run into out there?"

"We do, Jeff." The little girl's eyes were calm, and the former homicide detective could see the man she used to be staring back at him. "We know."

Chesser honked his horn, and Jeff looked toward the front of the car.

"Ease off there, Kojak," the hacker said, still driving hard. "She's a hell of a lot smaller than you are. Besides, it's not her fault you're a clueless sod. It's mine."

"What?"

"You heard me. I was the one what told 'em to keep you out of it. Need to know sorta thing."

"Told who? Keep me out of what?"

"I didn't want you fuckin' it up by watchin' the Boss Lady too close, so I told everyone to keep you in the dark, make sure you came in late." He grinned into the mirror. "So it's my fault you missed the first fifteen minutes of today's feature presentation. Now Chrissy and I get to tell you what happened while you was at the concessions gettin' popcorn."

Jeff leaned forward, and growled at the back of the hacker's head. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"I told you I was hacking, mate!" Chesser replied, still not turning around. "It's just not sitting at a keyboard or staring at a screen. So you shut up and let me drive. The little girl in the pink dress will fill you in — once you let her go, you wanker."

The hacker turned his attention back to the road, and Jeff let go of Chrissy with a sheepish half-smile.

"I'm sorry. Would you please tell me what's going on?" His voice was unnaturally soft, and she reached out a gloved hand and touched his.

"It's just what Chesser said it is," she replied. "It's a hack. A life hack. We figured out a way to set Jo free from the programming . . . if we can get all the pieces in place, and if everyone does his bit at just the right time."

Jeff sat back, stunned.

"She's saved so many of us," Chrissy said, looking up at the ex-detective. "Now it's our turn to save her."

###

Jo ran like a well-oiled machine, even though she didn’t look much like one. She covered ground with a speed that shocked her and everyone around her. In her pretty spring dress, she avoided obstacles and leaped over hurdles like an Olympian. Of course, her performance on the urban obstacle course was much more impressive, since she was running it in three-inch heels.

Inside her head, the programming had her mind locked down so tight, she was little more than a passenger in her own body. At first she tried desperately to stop herself, or even just slow down a little. But her body kept running, and every part of her adjusted to that without a single thought. Her breathing was measured, her stride sure, each step firm and true. Whatever was pulling her strings today knew just where it wanted to take her.

She hadn’t been in Paris more than a few times in the past. In fact, she was pretty sure she couldn’t find her way without a map, but judging from the route her body was taking, she was pretty sure she wasn’t heading for the Eiffel Tower.

For all of its ruthless efficiency, the programming didn't lock down everything. It couldn't stop the tears from pouring down her cheeks and dripping onto the front of her dress. She was moving further from Jeff with every mile she covered, and the part of her trapped inside wailed at just how easily that small bit of happiness was ripped away by the ghosts of the women who made her like this.

Jeff loved her. But just hearing him say it out loud triggered . . . something. Now she was trapped in someone else's agenda again. Maybe Bambi, the sex toy the bitches had wanted her to become when they did this to her ... maybe she wasn't ever supposed to be truly loved by a man. Maybe she was just supposed to be used and abused, a pretty toy and nothing more. Who knew what the hell went on in the minds of people who could do what these people did to Joseph Stark and all of the others?

Still, Jo managed to fight the programming long enough to tell him she loved him, too. And she resisted without anger. A small victory, but something she would cherish inside while the rest of her body ran a marathon without a sports bra.

'Damn, my chest is gonna hurt later,' she thought, giving herself the briefest of a inner smile. 'But I'll take the pain if it means I get to have a later. This is different from the other times the programming took over, though. I can feel it.'

She had plenty of time to think while her body ran, which surprised her a little. Who knew Paris was so big? As she started putting the pieces together, the picture that appeared wasn't a pleasant one.

'The other times, there were feelings. I was driven by desire. I needed a Master, and I wanted to be used and to serve.' Jo turned it over in her head, following wherever it went. 'As long as I served, I was happy and content. Hell, I was ecstatic.'

'But this time, there’s nothing. I'm a prisoner in my own flesh. I have no control, and nothing but fear to hang onto. The bitches don't want me happy. This time, they want me to suffer. Why?'

Stark felt a chill run through her body. 'Because this isn't about humiliating me anymore, forcing me to enjoy being someone's toy. This time, someone loves me. There's a chance for me to be happy, like this. And they can't have that. So they're going to make sure I never go back to Jeff.'

Her body turned a corner, not slowing for an instant, but the growing horror inside her froze her blood.

'This time, they aren't going to let me free. Whoever I find this time gets to keep me. I'll be somebody's slave forever, forced to do whatever they say for the rest of my life, with no way out.'

She started crying again, and her eyes began blinking rapidly, forcing the tears out of the way.

After all, even a puppet needs to see where she’s going.

###

“The way Jo handled Grace was ... unusual,” Chrissy said, seemingly oblivious to Chesser’s unique driving style. “And when you both came back to the mansion, you scheduled an appointment with the psych staff. No one knew why, but when she couldn’t go, the reason became clear. The programming knew what she knew, and knew why she wanted to meet with them ... and it wouldn’t let her anywhere near the shrinks.”

“I met with them alone.” Jeff braced himself against the car’s frame as Chesser made another improbable turn. “We went over all of the notes, all of the processes they used on her, and couldn’t find a place we could crack it. Just like every other time we’d been through it since she killed them all.”

“And yet, we know it’s got holes, or Jo wouldn’t have been able to kill anyone.”

Chrissy nodded. “Strong emotion pushes aside the programming. Originally, it burned a hole in what they wanted her to become and let her kill all the women in the ballroom that first night. Eventually, it allowed her to form the initiative and begin search and rescue operations.”

“It wasn’t hard to see when she began to let the anger go, even if she didn’t want anyone to know. And we noticed your conversations with the folks in the psych section — it’s not like you ever go down there without a reason. The trouble was, everyone in psych thought she was playing with fire, but they saw the need. And all of us who love her were determined to figure out a way to beat the system.”

“So we set up meetings, late at night or early in the morning,” Chesser said, his eyes still on the road. “We couldn’t chance Her Ladyship stumbling into one. That damned suicide provision meant that whatever plan we came up with had to be done inside the parameters of the program. If we forced the fix on her, she’d just shut down and die.”

“This went on for weeks.” Chrissy looked up into Jeff’s eyes. “We couldn’t let you know. You were always too close to her. She couldn’t suspect anything, or we might lose her. You see that, right?”

Jeff looked down and nodded, a small smile growing on his lips.

###

Jo stopped, her breathing barely affected by the extended run. Still trapped insider her own head, she watched as her eyes scanned the street, moving from doorway to doorway. She was obviously looking for something, but what?

As the sun sank below the horizon, the lights on some of the businesses began to glow. Her body stepped forward, eyes continuing to search, and Jo realized that they had stopped in the Moulin Rouge, the sex capital of Paris.

‘I must have been programmed to hunt for a specific kind of place closest to where I triggered the response,’ she thought. ‘Someplace that would be most likely to have a powerful Dom/me I could surrender myself to.’

Jo felt the tears starting again. ‘This is a nightmare!’

As she moved, the crowds around her pushed her this way and that, blocked her way and turned her around, until she finally found herself staring down the length of a small alley that ran deep between two other buildings. Jo could hear music echoing from a place at the end of the brick passageway, mixed with laughter and screams. In spite of herself, she was drawn to the sounds, and as she moved deeper into the alley, she saw people, some lit by the garish red of a flashing neon sign, some half shrouded in shadow. There were men and women in leather, others in collars crouching at the feet of those holding leashes, or chains, or whips. They all followed her with their eyes as she walked past, but the program ignored them. They were out here, not inside. So they may be Dom/mes, but they didn’t rule here.

The program wanted the most dominant Master available. No one else would do. Stark’s body brushed by them all as her mind screamed inside her.

She walked into the club itself, diving into an ocean of techno dance music, flashing lights, and writhing bodies. Jo pushed back as hard as she could, trying to stop herself, but the programming held fast, and her body strutted across the dance floor like it was a catwalk. The sea of dancers parted as she moved forward, stopping and staring at the beautiful woman in the spring dress as she walked through them, her eyes focused on the raised stage against the far wall.

On the other side of the dance floor, on an ornate throne, sat a huge man. He was tall and muscular, dark-haired and dark-eyed, and handsome. From Jo’s past experience as a reporter, she knew how to read people, and his bearing and the look in his eyes gave the impression that he knew very well who he was without being the slightest bit egotistical about it.

This was his place. These were his people. He was the Master.

Men and women surrounded him, kneeling or on all fours, all naked and collared, their eyes down. He paid them no mind, except to reach out and stroke the hair of the woman closest to him as he watched Jo approach.

“You will stop there.” The voice was deep and powerful, and it touched something deep inside her. She stopped instantly, bowed her head and lowered her eyes.

“Yes, Master.” Jo heard herself say. She felt something in her head shift, as if the program had chosen.

He rose to his feet and stepped forward. He was dressed all in black ... silk shirt, linen pants, socks and boots. The music stopped abruptly, and everyone in the club turned to look. He took a second step forward and towered over the new girl.

“I am not your Master, girl.” The tone of command was unmistakable. “Why do you come to me?”

“This one comes to serve.” Her reply was directed at his feet, and she waited for him to answer.

“Look at you, in your pretty dress.” The huge man in black stood up from his throne and took a step forward. “A pretty dress for a pretty girl.”

Stark dropped to her knees, her head bowing as she screamed inside.

“Thank you, Master.” Her voice was soft and respectful, and she bent forward and touched her forehead to the floor.

“I am not your Master, girl.” He repeated, a touch of annoyance creeping into his tone. “Do not presume. My collar is a gift, one you must earn through complete obedience and dedication to service. If I find you worthy, then and only then will I allow you to call me Master. Will you do as I command?”

“Yes, Sir,” she replied softly.

“You will be tested ... now.” He looked down at her, and his voice sharpened with the tone of authority. “My property does not wear clothing unless I command it. If you wish to be mine, rise and remove everything you are wearing, now.”

Without the slightest hesitation, she rose gracefully to her feet, removed her shoes, and quickly stripped until every stitch of clothing lay in a pile on the floor at his feet. Inside, Jo could do nothing but cry in silence. When her task was completed, the girl stood, head high and eyes down, hands crossed at the wrists before her as if waiting to be bound.

The Dom nodded approvingly. “You are obedient, and hold no illusions about your status. Good.”

He walked around her, his eyes inspecting every inch. His hand reached down and gently caressed her bottom with his fingertips. As he did, his eyes strayed to her face but saw no reaction at all. “You are healthy, fit, and strong. Obviously beautiful. And you seem very well trained.”

He stopped in front of her, while she remained absolutely still.

“Look at me, girl.” She raised her head and looked into his eyes. He saw nothing but the urge to obey. He put his hands on his hips and smiled.

“If I were to order you to kneel and pleasure me with your mouth,” he said, “I’m sure you would be pawing at my belt in an instant.”

“Yes, Sir,” she replied. “Is that your wish?”

“No, girl. Only slaves who have served me well and pleased me greatly receive that gift. No, your next test will tell how devoted you are to my service.” He turned away and walked back to his throne. Opening a side compartment, he withdrew a long thin needle, and returned to face Jo. She looked back at him expectantly, while inside, Stark cringed.

“Take this and push it through your nipple,” he said, holding her eyes with his.

Her fingers took the needle from him without a second’s pause, and she cupped and raised her left breast and positioned the needle to go through her nipple. As she began to push and the pain made her gasp, the Dom held up a hand.

“Stop!” She did, instantly. “Withdraw it.” Again she obeyed.

“Bring it up to your eye,” he said slowly, “and puncture it.”

Again, without a pause, she raised the needle to her face.

“STOP!” he roared. She did. He took the needle from her and tossed it to another slave, who brought it to the throne. His eyes never left her.

“You are magnificent. I have never seen such a natural slave before. You obey without question or hesitation. I must have you. Do you still wish to serve me?”

“Yes, Sir.” The girl looked down, and the Dom reached over and lifted her chin.

“Eyes front, girl.” She looked forward, and he smiled. “Very well, you are mine.”

Stark felt a rush of warmth flow through her entire body, and she realized with horror that she truly was his. Her will was completely gone. It was over.

The bitches had won.

He raised a hand and a slave brought him a silver collar.

“Kneel, girl.” She instantly complied. “Do you accept my ownership and dominion, to become mine in all ways, and to obey my every command as your owner, Master, and God?”

“Yes, Sir.” He reached down and put the collar around her neck, and snapped it closed with a click that echoed in Jo’s head. He grabbed a handful of her hair and jerked her head back to look into her eyes once more.

“Who am I, girl?”

“You are this one’s Master, her owner, and He who must be obeyed in all things.” Her voice was clear and unafraid, while inside, Jo felt herself sinking into sadness.

“And what are you?”

“Yours, Master. Your slave. Your property.”

He released her hair and took a step back.

“Rise. Stand before me.” She rose to her feet once more, hands crossed in front of her. The Dom smiled.

“So obedient. Are you ready for your first command ... as mine?”

“Yes, Master.”

‘Oh, God,’ she thought, fear shooting through her. ‘What does he want?’

“And you will obey without question?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Good.” He stepped forward and locked eyes with her once more. “Listen carefully. Joseph Stark ... Jo Stark ... you will erase every bit of mental and emotional programming that keeps you from being the person you wish to be — the person you truly are.”

A chill swept over her and washed through her mind as everything seemed to freeze. The only thing she could hear was His voice, echoing in her head and saying things that sliced into the core of her and ripped through the months of conditioning with a fierceness that left her soul ravaged and alone in a whiteness that was once a tangled maelstrom of fiery red, built with drugs and surgery and hate.

“You will reclaim your free will, and no longer be consumed by anger, because it is no longer needed to keep you safe and whole.”

She fell to her knees and covered her face, as a battle raged behind her eyes. Line after line of what had been done to her unraveled as she watched, each insult, each trespass, each act of torture faded and became nothing more than memory — not forgotten, never forgotten or forgiven, but faded with the distance of time.

“All the damage done to you will be undone, and your life will be your own once more, to do with what you will.” He leaned forward and commanded her with every ounce of authority he possessed. “This is what I command, and you must obey, because you are MINE.”

With the last few words, she felt the war inside her end at last, and she let her hands fall to her lap and looked up at the Dom. He smiled down at her.

“Did it work?” he asked gently. “Are you free?”

She stood up slowly and looked down at her body, the breasts and hips and all, and sighed.

“I’m about as free as I’m going to get looking like a centerfold for the rest of my life,” she replied, looking up at him. “But that’s a damned sight better than I was a few minutes ago.”

Suddenly conscious of her nakedness, she picked up her panties and wiggled into them quickly, then snatched the dress from the floor and slipped it over her head. Halfway through putting on her shoes, she heard a shout from the area behind the throne.

“Jo!”

Jeff ran across the room and wrapped his arms around her, and the kiss that followed was both a surprise and a revelation to Jo. Even with the programming gone, she still loved Jeff. She still wanted him to be hers. And that both reassured and confused her, in equal measure.

“So I guess it worked, then?” Chesser wandered in behind him, still in his chauffeur’s livery, and tipped his hat. “Evenin’, miss. Programming all gone?”

“As gone as it’s going to get.” She looked over Jeff’s shoulder. “Hey, Chesser. So this was your idea?”

“Chrissy’s, actually. I just had the chops to make it real. Damn, I’m good.” The hacker peered at the two of them. “Although I didn’t realize you two had that kind of relationship before the bitches programmed you.”

Jo smiled at him.

“Bite me,” she said, and kissed Jeff again.

Chesser shrugged. “Maybe later.”

Jo broke off from the kiss, sighed, and turned her head. “Okay, Chesser. Tell us all how clever you are, so I can thank you properly for finally saving my permanently bouncy round bottom.”

He grinned. “Well, since you asked ...”

Everyone in the club watched him as he moved to take center stage directly in front of the Master’s throne, and cleared his throat theatrically.

“Like I said before, it was Chrissy’s idea,” he said, projecting as if he were trying to fill the Albert Hall. “Once she brought it to me, I coulda kicked myself from here to Devon and back, it was so damned simple. And when I went through the notes knowing just what to look for, I saw what we needed to bring this off. We’ve been watching you and Jeff for weeks, waiting for the right moment.”

“It made perfect sense, when you looked at it a while,” he said, pacing back and forth as if he was Sherlock Holmes ... or Inspector Clouseau. “And in the end, we have the bitches to thank. After all, it was their fault that Jo broke free of their control the first time. What finally killed them was their own cruelty — the little touches they put in to make her suffer every day.”

“See, they wanted Joe Stark, the man, to always be able to see what he’d become. They wanted that piece of Jo to remain separated from the program, trapped and powerless, while the other part of her — the part they pieced together — enjoyed being the submissive super-slut they had made her. And they thought they knew enough about the human mind to treat it like a computer.”

“But a computer can’t feel, can it? And no matter how well you think you know someone, you can’t predict how he’s gonna feel when you kick him. They wanted Joe to hurt, trapped inside his own head, drowning in his own sadness. Instead, they drove him crazy, and got pure, raw animal rage instead, one of the strongest emotions there is. It helped Jo break through their programming just enough to let her kill them all.”

Chesser turned and wagged a finger at Jo, surprising her.

“You’ve got to remember, the human mind isn’t really logical, like a computer. I mean, it can be, if you want it to be. But it’s not logical by nature. It’s a complex system that builds itself over time. Memory is holographic, stored and retrieved through a system so complex they still haven’t worked out all the kinks. And because experience writes the program, a human can makes intuitive leaps, making the right choices over and over without enough data to choose logically.”

“The other programming they did to you ...the programming you broke ... was weak, because they made it too complicated. It was still there, still haunting you, but damaged. So you could fight it, but not defeat it.”

“But this puppet thing, what happened to you just now? It wasn’t broken or damaged at all. Because it hid in the deep recesses of your mind, and never came into play until certain conditions were met. It was a failsafe, like a doomsday device. If you ever became truly happy as you are, they wanted you locked in a Hell from which you could never escape.”

“As a result, they made this program about as subtle as a baseball bat to the frontal lobes. Because in order to really control a computer as complicated as a human mind, the program has to be simple, yeah? Little more than a blunt instrument. You have to force it down a binary path — on, off, yes, no. Unlike everything that came before, Jo HAD to do exactly what she was told by her ‘Master.’ The programming overwrote all other considerations. She HAD to obey. And she did.”

Chesser turned back to the assembled crowd, and opens his arms wide.

“And that’s just what we wanted. Because the one overriding command the Master gave her — the one she HAD to obey — was to erase all of the programming completely, and leave her to find her own destiny once more. Which it did, erasing itself in the process once everything else was gone. The end.”

There was a short pause, and slowly applause came from the crowd and swelled modestly as the hacker smiled and bowed.

After the clapping had ceased, Jo untangled herself from Jeff’s embrace. She turned and approached the Master, then reached up slowly and removed the collar.

“I won’t be needing this anymore,” she said.

“I understand,” he said, taking the collar and passing it to one of his slaves. “It was only a means to an end, after all.”

Jo looked over at the man in black and cocked her head.

“Believe me, I’m grateful, and I want to thank you for ... well, for everything,” she said. “But ... who the hell are you?”

“Exactly who I appear to be,” he replied with a smile. “I am the Master here, and these are my slaves. They come to me and beg to be mine because submission fulfills something inside each of them. For me, I care for and love each of those I claim as my own with all of my heart and power, because they trust me to be a Master worthy of their submission, and I dare not disappoint them, or I shall not be the man I believe myself to be.”

He walked back to his throne and sat. “When Chesser came to me and told me what had happened to you, and what those women wanted you to become, I was horrified and angry. The relationship between Master and slave should be freely chosen, and never be compelled by drugs or torture or mental programming.” He glanced at Chesser, then back to Jo. “So when he asked me if I would try to free you from the hell they wanted to place you in, if Paris was the city you were in when this plot came to a head, I jumped at the chance. And I am pleased to see that it worked.”

Jo walked over to the Master and held out her hand.

“Thank you,” she said simply, looking into his eyes. He looked back and smiled, then took her hand and kissed it gently. Warmth raced through her body from where his lips touched her skin, and she withdrew her fingers from his and stepped back, clearly confused.

Chesser cleared his throat, and Stark turned to look at him.

“We approached the Doms in every city you’ve been working since the whole Grace incident,” he said, “just in case something should trigger that puppet mode you wound up in. We needed that ‘blunt instrument’ to wipe the other programming clear — that and a strong voice from someone who knew how to give orders.”

“And they all agreed?”

Chrissy stepped out from behind Chesser. “Most did, for many of the same reasons this Master did. Some wanted cash, and of course we had lots of that to throw around.”

“Hey, Chrissy,” Jo said, smiling. “I understand this was all your idea.”

“Guilty as charged, ma’am.” She blushed and put her hands behind her back. “Sorry we had to trick you, Jo. I didn’t want to, but it was the only way it would work. I tried coming up with something else, but this was the only way that was guaranteed to free you.”

Chrissy looked down, unable to meet Jo’s eyes. “It must have been horrible for you, thinking you’d lost everything. I’m sorry I had to hurt you like that after all you’ve done for me.”

“Well, I’m not.” Chrissy looked up, and Stark grinned. “Damn, Chrissy! You freed me, girl! I can think and feel for myself for the first time in years, and the pain was a small price to pay to get my life back again.”

When she saw that the younger girl was still not convinced, Jo reached out and touched Chrissy’s cheek.

“Look, I know it must have hurt you something fierce to have to make me feel that way,” she said. “But you did it anyway to help me. You did what was hard, what had to be done, no matter how much it hurt you to do it. Because you cared.”

She went down to her knees and looked into the little girl’s eyes.

“Thank you, from the bottom of my heart,” she whispered, “for doing what you needed to do to make me whole again, even though it was hard on us both. I love you for it, and I always will.”

She opened her arms and Chrissy ran into them and hugged her tight. They stayed that way for a while, which gave Jeff an opening to ask Chesser something that had been bothering him.

“How could you be sure she’d find him, and not some other powerful Dom you hadn’t visited?”

“Easy, copper. We stacked the deck.” The detective looked at the hacker, and Chesser sighed.

“Look, when you and the boss here came to Paris ... in fact, in every town we’ve been in the past few weeks ... we planted a group of actors in the crowd near where the most powerful Dom set up shop. They were all linked by short-range radios hidden in nearly invisible earpieces, and directed by someone on the roof of the highest building on the street. The idea was that, if something did trigger this puppet mode, they would work as a team to herd her Ladyship towards the Dom in question. They pushed her towards this particular alley from the moment she arrived ... getting in her way, bumping into her and turning her when needed. Eventually, they got her to go exactly where they wanted her to go, which was here.”

“And now, despite how accommodating our host has been,” Jo said, rising from her knees and ruffling Chrissy’s hair,” I think it’s time for all of us to head back home, don’t you?”

Chrissy looks up at her. “Is it still home? Now that you’re free?”

Stark grinned, and Jeff saw his old friend peeking out in the smile.

“Well, there’s still family there, and it’s where all my stuff is now. So I guess the answer is yes.”

“What about the mission, ‘boss?’” Chesser asked. “Still interested?”

“Of course. Still wrongs to right and windmills to tilt at, after all.” Even as she said it, she knew it wasn’t going to be that easy. Did the new Jo Stark have what it took to do what had to be done?

Did she really want to be that ruthless anymore?

Jeff saw her confusion. He reached out and took her hand. “And ... us?”

She tilted her head and smiled, then reached out and took Jeff’s other hand. She squeezed both gently.

“The Master commanded me to be the person I wished to be — the person I truly am now. I can’t be Joseph Stark, not anymore. I can’t go back, only forward. And I want to go forward ... with you.” She leaned forward and kissed him. He looked into her eyes and saw nothing but love.

She turned to Chesser. “Now ... home, James!”

“You mean me?”

“Well, you are wearing the uniform,” Jo said with a grin. Then she affected a posh upper-class British accent. “Unless you prefer ‘Parker?’”

The hacker stared at her in shock. “I can’t believe after all this time tied up in somebody else’s strings, you’re gonna get all nostalgic about a puppet show!”

Her eyes twinkled. “Thunderbirds are GO!”

Chesser groaned. “A fan girl. I should’ve known.”

He paused a second, then shrugged and replied in a heavy Cockney growl. “I shall await you in the car, your ladyship.” He spun on his heel and stalked out the alley door without a backwards glance.

Jo snickered, then reached out and took Chrissy’s hand again. With both of her closest friends beside her, she felt happy for the first time since she had been taken from that street corner in Baltimore, long ago.

“It’s a whole new beginning, for all of us,” she whispered. “Let’s make the most of it.”

###

© 2010. Posted by the author.


(NOTE: See? I didn't make you wait for so very long. *smiles* My extra-special loving thanks for Frank,
who has always loved Stark as much as I, and helped me make sure her rescue was the best it could be.

But even though Jo is free of the programming, her freedom brings with it new complications, so we haven't seen
the last of her or her friends and family. I hope you enjoyed how I finally managed to set her free. -- Randalynn)

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Comments

The horror of what she felt she was going to go through...

Andrea Lena's picture

...is my horror. I am plagued with it every day, without relief...for now. And I have friends like Chesser and Chrissy and Jeff here to help me be the person I was meant to be.
Truly a remarkable tale told by a remarkable author. Thank you!


She was born for all the wrong reasons but grew up for all the right ones.
Possa Dio riccamente vi benedica, tutto il mio amore, Andrea

  

To be alive is to be vulnerable. Madeleine L'Engle
Love, Andrea Lena

So this is how it ends...

I'm sooo glad you made this note after the story - it certainly answered the most urgent of questions I had!
So, John and I were pretty close, but this was definitely something brilliant! Indeed, there is a good saying that I'm sure has its analog in English:

Против лома нет приема -
если нет другого лома.
Лом на лом -
и весь прием!

Or, if translated loosely:

A wrench has no countermeasures -
Unless there is a second wrench.
A wrench to a wrench -
That is the counter!

By the way, there was this one story, Robin Goodgirl by Lainee Lee. You left a few comments there, and there is a question still left unanswered in a few comments there...

Faraway


On rights of free advertisement:
Big Closet Top Shelf

Where you can fool around like you want to and most you get is some bemused good ribbing!

Faraway


On rights of free advertisement:
Big Closet Top Shelf

Where you can fool around like you want to and most you get is some bemused good ribbing!

Robin's been waiting long enough ...

... and I've been holding back because she's the perfect first test case for our newly rescued heroine. *smile*

'Nuff said?

*grin*

Randa

::fake angry muttering::

Those authors and their artistic license!.. *mumble, grumble*

Yeah, quite enough. ^_^

Faraway


On rights of free advertisement:
Big Closet Top Shelf

Where you can fool around like you want to and most you get is some bemused good ribbing!

Faraway


On rights of free advertisement:
Big Closet Top Shelf

Where you can fool around like you want to and most you get is some bemused good ribbing!

That's great, i'm so happy

That's great, i'm so happy that stark is free. That was difficult but also breakthrough chapter in her life. Good work.

I admit

That you had me worried for a while with this one, but the end, as it worked out was very rewarding. You really did finally set Jo free, and that was what so many fans of this series were looking for. At least I was.

Now I'll be looking forward to the new challenges Jo and her friends have to face and will anxiously wait to see how she manages without the rage that drove her before.

Good One!

YAY!!!!

Go Stark team yay meow!!! OMG this is awesome, I always felt Stark deserved some kind of peace, so wonderful mew, and excellent writing as well. It was seemingly so bad, and OMG that guy had it right, it should be a CHOICE to be dom and master and slave and stuff mew, not forced.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I know who I am, I am me, and I like me ^^
Bisexual, transsexual, gamer girl, princess, furry that writes horror stories and proud ^^

I know who I am, I am me, and I like me ^^
Transgender, Gamer, Little, Princess, Therian and proud :D

Thank you

In retrospect, the solution was obvious, but I never saw it comming. I have empathsised with stark from the begining, and I am really glad she is free. It gives me hope for myself.

DogSig.png

Brilliant! ...

Jezzi Stewart's picture

... And as long as we are talking about future cases for Stark - or, perhaps, we should just use Jo now - there is a Bikini Beach case that is very similar to Crissy's: Jack/Heather in Bashful's "Just the Two of Us". It has always made me mad because Jack's punishment was for life and it was only done because the Old Woman broke her word, a contract, and her own rules.:

(from "Just the Two of Us" Capitalization is mine for emphasis.)

** (Old Woman) You understand that the
passes ARE NOT REFUNDABLE, NON-TRANSFERABLE and you remain the female
you become until the pass expires?"

(JACK) "Yes, I specifically want to be changed into an two year old child, I want
to give my wife a taste of what it's like to be a mother. Can you do that?"

(OLD WOMAN) "Yes sir, are you sure that's what you want?"

(JACK) "Yes, ... I understand that the passes come
in a wide variety of duration. I want to get one FOR TWO DAYS, PERIOD.

(OLD WOMAN) You can be the little girl as long as YOU wish, no one will
notice anything different when you return."

(Jack) "Okay BUT I THINK TWO DAYS WILL BE ENOUGH. Why don’t I pay for those
passes now and THEN WE'LL BE ALL SET?" Jack said.

(Old Woman) "THAT'S FINE. (agreement: Two year old girl for two days) Vicky will take YOUR money (value given for value received: a contract)and everything will be ready
when you get here Saturday. ...

(The change has taken place, JACK/HEATHER) "What'th going on, I'M THE ONE WHO PAID FOR THE PATH'TH, what are you
talking about?" Heather asked.

(Jack's wife) "I called up her and had the passes charged to my card and THEY REFUNDED JACK'S. **

Jack ends up Heather for life because the Old Woman REFUNDED his tickets without his consent and without returning his money to HIM, allowing his wife to buy them and then allowing HER to change them to lifetime passes. She broke her own refundability policy and her word to/ contract with him; she told him he could be a little girl for as long as HE wanted to be. He stated twice only two days. AS soon as his money was taken, there was a contract: Two years old for two days, which she broke. Jack was not a particularly nice guy, but he didn't deserve a life sentence.

"All the world really is a stage, darlings, so strut your stuff, have fun, and give the public a good show!" Miss Jezzi Belle at the end of each show

BE a lady!

I need to do more research ...

... into the nature of Bikini Beach. If it's in a constant fixed location, unlike the SRU shop, Stark may be able to use the capabilities for her people. But finding Bikini Beach would create complications for the Stark universe, if it means she finds a magical solution to the issues her people and other face -- one that is only a question of paying for a lifetime pass.

I'll think about it, Jezzi. *smile* There just might be a way.

Randa

SORRY. ...

Jezzi Stewart's picture

... I probably should have sent my prior rant as a PM.

"All the world really is a stage, darlings, so strut your stuff, have fun, and give the public a good show!" Miss Jezzi Belle at the end of each show

BE a lady!

I'm sorry, I never should have doubted you.

After reading the intros, and looking at this, I thought it was going to end badly, some sort of massive downer ending explosion to end the series. You've gotten a lot of grief for Stark over the years, and figured this was just a massive angry reaction.

Please accept my apologies. You've managed to not only disaapoint my fears, but do so in a decidedly firm and inconrovertible way.

Thank you.

Apology happily accepted, Will!

But I am surprised that a long-term reader of my work would ever think I could hurt poor Jo that way after all she's been through -- unless it was a means to a happier end. *grin*

Glad you liked it!

*hugs*

Randa

She's free! Yay, now the

She's free! Yay, now the relationship troubles can begin :D I'm so glad for this happy end for Jo. I hope she'll be able to keep up her work as avenging angel for tortured and abused men.
Thank you for writing this awesome series, I hope there will be a sequel,
Beyogi

OMG!

OMG! OMGOMG!

That was HORRIBLE! But sooooooo goood!

Abigail Drew.

Sniffle sniffle!

Thank you sweetie! So happy Jo's finally FREE to choose her path from here on! Oh Jeffie pooh! Come hither! (Jo' says with a Wiley grin!). Randalynn dear, I just knew there had to be some kind of tracking device on Jo! Nicely done sweetie! Loving Hugs Talia