Miss Helen's Program (A Guillotine Story)
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Her name was Helen and the program she ran was known only to the wealthy and the desperate. To her clientele of wealthy women she offered the opportunity to purchase pleasure like few ever dreamed of. To the desperate she offered a chance to leave their lives behind and live a life of luxury. All they had to do was sign their bodies over to her.
A young woman wanting to attempt Helen’s initial evaluation had to meet 5 requirements. They had to be young, between 18 and 24 years old. They had to possess the right temperament (meaning few to no inhibitions to speak of). They had to be attracted to other women and only other women. They had to be willing to sign the right to their bodies over to Helen. And, most importantly, they had to be stunningly beautiful. Those deemed suitable, or at least suitable enough with minor cognitive reprogramming, would advance to the next step in the program.
With the money to be made off each young project, as they were known, Helen’s standards were, understandably, exacting. Projects had to pass five evaluations in order to graduate, and a number of projects routinely failed to meet the standards. Not that Helen cared; she enjoyed the exit interviews as much as the rest of her work. And, as she owned the women regardless, there was more than one way for them to turn a profit for her.
Initial evaluations were held once a month, regardless of how many projects were present. A total of 7 had attempted yesterday's, and all but one had passed. Miss Meghan had just too many inhibitions to graduate the program without significant cognitive intervention. While Helen had advanced such projects through the program before – cognitive reprogramming technology could replace a person’s entire personality if necessary – it was time consuming and, in this case, a more lucrative offer had presented itself.
She took one last look around the room and, satisfied that everything was ready, walked out the door and down the hall. Her heels echoed as she strutted to the door at the end and the stairs beyond. She stopped to admire herself in the mirror hung right before them. Her little black dress fit her figure to perfection, her skin was radiant, and her hair hung in loose curls from her updo. The two projects who worked as her servants – she replaced them periodically, whenever she grew bored – had spent 3 hours getting her ready that morning. If there was one standard that the projects in the program absolutely had to pass, it was that their beauty had to be the equal of Helen’s.
The room at the top of the stairs opened to a veranda with a view of the sea. Seven young women sat there, talking quietly as they sipped their champagne. Each was achingly beautiful, all the more so after the makeover that had accompanied yesterday’s evaluation. Today was a day of rest for them, as the second evaluation was most successful if they were relaxed. And despite the quiet atmosphere, none of them were relaxed now. They knew why she was there.
“Good morning, ladies,” Helen said with a smile.
“Good morning, Miss Helen,” they answered in unison.
“I trust you all slept well?” She got nods in response. “Good. I know yesterday was rather strenuous for you.” She paused. “I know you’re all eager to find out your results, but in the interest of privacy we’ll discuss those individually. Miss Meghan? Let’s chat about you first, shall we?”
With a gentle hand on Meghan’s back, Helen guided her back down the stairs. She stopped her at the bottom in front of the mirror.
Helen closed the door behind them.
“Tell me, Meghan, what do you see?”
Meghan looked over her reflection from bottom to top, from the diamond encrusted shoes to the form-fitting red dress to her soft brown eyes and her dimples to her golden blonde hair that cascaded from her updo. “I’m…I’m beautiful,” she whispered.
“Yes, my dear, you are. You possess all the beauty the graduates of my program require. You are, I dare say, almost the equal of myself.”
When Helen didn’t go on, Meghan looked at her as a tear formed at the corner of her eye. “But…?” It was almost a whimper.
“But…my graduates require a strength of spirit that you do not, unfortunately, possess.”
“What…does that mean? I don’t get the life you promised?”
Helen nodded. “That life is not a given, my dear. Still, you must earn your keep.” When Meghan looked confused, Helen went on, “Your contracted terms of employment do require you to turn a profit for me.”
Meghan’s response was one Helen had heard a hundred times before. “I’ll do anything!” It was almost a plea.
“Of course you will,” Helen said soothingly. “Come, walk with me.” As Helen steered her down the hall towards the room on the end, she went on, “There is a buyer, a committee of doctors on the leading edge of medical research, who will pay me quite handsomely for your services.”
“What services would those be?”
They stopped outside the door to the room Helen had left earlier. “Why, they want to dissect you, of course.”
Meghan’s eyes went wide with horror. “I…I don’t understand.”
“It’s really quite simple. Your life is of no use to either me or them. Your body, however, is.” She pushed open the door to the room to reveal the shiny guillotine held within. “All that’s left now is to separate the two.”
A gentle hand on the shoulder and Helen had Meghan inside the door. She quickly locked the door before understanding crossed Meghan’s face.
“You can’t cut off my head!”
“I own you, my dear. If I wanted to saw you in half and sell what’s left for meat I can do it.” She smiled. “Such meat also goes for a surprisingly high price. You can lose your head or die in agony my dear. It’s really up to you.”
Meghan nodded and that was that. “It’s a pity, really,” Helen said as she steered her to the waiting bascule. “I for one get more enjoyment when you suffer.” As if the thought had just occurred to her she turned Meghan around and back her up to the board. “That will have to do,” Helen said with smile.
Meghan whimpered softly as Helen tied off the leather strap that ran just below her breasts. “Alright, my dear, back you go.”
“Noooo!!!” Her cry turned to a scream as she was pushed beneath the blade and the lunette closed around her throat.
“Hmmm….I feel like I’m forgetting something.” She snapped her fingers. “Of course! How silly of me.” She placed a padded basket under Meghan’s outstretched head. “There. All better.”
She disengaged the guillotine’s safety, put her hand on the lever, and turned to face Meghan. “I’d ask if you have any last words but honestly I don’t really care.”
“Please…” Meghan begged. “I’ll do anything for you.”
“Honey, this is the best part of my work. I hoped you would fail just so I could see your tender neck locked in tight.” She put one hand gently on Meghan’s hair and said, “Still, we can’t have any blood messing up your hair.” She smiled and pulled on the lever.
The blade came rushing down. Meghan’s scream was cut off as it bit deep into her tender throat. An instant later Helen was holding Meghan’s severed head. She kissed her lips as the life drained from her face. “Thank you for that, my dear. I, for one, particularly enjoyed it.”
She placed Meghan’s head in the basket before pressing a button on the wall and stepping back into the hallway.
“The buyer’s payment cleared this morning, Mistress,” the summoned servant said.
“Good. See that their purchase is properly prepared and shipped.”
“Yes, Mistress.”
With that, Helen turned back down the hall and up the stairs to the veranda. The six ladies looked at her expectantly. “Well, ladies, perhaps we’ll speed things up a bit. You’ll be pleased to know that you’ve all advanced to tomorrow’s second evaluation. Enjoy the afternoon, and do be sure to get a good night’s sleep tonight.”
A young woman wanting to attempt Helen’s initial evaluation had to meet 5 requirements. They had to be young, between 18 and 24 years old. They had to possess the right temperament (meaning few to no inhibitions to speak of). They had to be attracted to other women and only other women. They had to be willing to sign the right to their bodies over to Helen. And, most importantly, they had to be stunningly beautiful. Those deemed suitable, or at least suitable enough with minor cognitive reprogramming, would advance to the next step in the program.
With the money to be made off each young project, as they were known, Helen’s standards were, understandably, exacting. Projects had to pass five evaluations in order to graduate, and a number of projects routinely failed to meet the standards. Not that Helen cared; she enjoyed the exit interviews as much as the rest of her work. And, as she owned the women regardless, there was more than one way for them to turn a profit for her.
Initial evaluations were held once a month, regardless of how many projects were present. A total of 7 had attempted yesterday's, and all but one had passed. Miss Meghan had just too many inhibitions to graduate the program without significant cognitive intervention. While Helen had advanced such projects through the program before – cognitive reprogramming technology could replace a person’s entire personality if necessary – it was time consuming and, in this case, a more lucrative offer had presented itself.
She took one last look around the room and, satisfied that everything was ready, walked out the door and down the hall. Her heels echoed as she strutted to the door at the end and the stairs beyond. She stopped to admire herself in the mirror hung right before them. Her little black dress fit her figure to perfection, her skin was radiant, and her hair hung in loose curls from her updo. The two projects who worked as her servants – she replaced them periodically, whenever she grew bored – had spent 3 hours getting her ready that morning. If there was one standard that the projects in the program absolutely had to pass, it was that their beauty had to be the equal of Helen’s.
The room at the top of the stairs opened to a veranda with a view of the sea. Seven young women sat there, talking quietly as they sipped their champagne. Each was achingly beautiful, all the more so after the makeover that had accompanied yesterday’s evaluation. Today was a day of rest for them, as the second evaluation was most successful if they were relaxed. And despite the quiet atmosphere, none of them were relaxed now. They knew why she was there.
“Good morning, ladies,” Helen said with a smile.
“Good morning, Miss Helen,” they answered in unison.
“I trust you all slept well?” She got nods in response. “Good. I know yesterday was rather strenuous for you.” She paused. “I know you’re all eager to find out your results, but in the interest of privacy we’ll discuss those individually. Miss Meghan? Let’s chat about you first, shall we?”
With a gentle hand on Meghan’s back, Helen guided her back down the stairs. She stopped her at the bottom in front of the mirror.
Helen closed the door behind them.
“Tell me, Meghan, what do you see?”
Meghan looked over her reflection from bottom to top, from the diamond encrusted shoes to the form-fitting red dress to her soft brown eyes and her dimples to her golden blonde hair that cascaded from her updo. “I’m…I’m beautiful,” she whispered.
“Yes, my dear, you are. You possess all the beauty the graduates of my program require. You are, I dare say, almost the equal of myself.”
When Helen didn’t go on, Meghan looked at her as a tear formed at the corner of her eye. “But…?” It was almost a whimper.
“But…my graduates require a strength of spirit that you do not, unfortunately, possess.”
“What…does that mean? I don’t get the life you promised?”
Helen nodded. “That life is not a given, my dear. Still, you must earn your keep.” When Meghan looked confused, Helen went on, “Your contracted terms of employment do require you to turn a profit for me.”
Meghan’s response was one Helen had heard a hundred times before. “I’ll do anything!” It was almost a plea.
“Of course you will,” Helen said soothingly. “Come, walk with me.” As Helen steered her down the hall towards the room on the end, she went on, “There is a buyer, a committee of doctors on the leading edge of medical research, who will pay me quite handsomely for your services.”
“What services would those be?”
They stopped outside the door to the room Helen had left earlier. “Why, they want to dissect you, of course.”
Meghan’s eyes went wide with horror. “I…I don’t understand.”
“It’s really quite simple. Your life is of no use to either me or them. Your body, however, is.” She pushed open the door to the room to reveal the shiny guillotine held within. “All that’s left now is to separate the two.”
A gentle hand on the shoulder and Helen had Meghan inside the door. She quickly locked the door before understanding crossed Meghan’s face.
“You can’t cut off my head!”
“I own you, my dear. If I wanted to saw you in half and sell what’s left for meat I can do it.” She smiled. “Such meat also goes for a surprisingly high price. You can lose your head or die in agony my dear. It’s really up to you.”
Meghan nodded and that was that. “It’s a pity, really,” Helen said as she steered her to the waiting bascule. “I for one get more enjoyment when you suffer.” As if the thought had just occurred to her she turned Meghan around and back her up to the board. “That will have to do,” Helen said with smile.
Meghan whimpered softly as Helen tied off the leather strap that ran just below her breasts. “Alright, my dear, back you go.”
“Noooo!!!” Her cry turned to a scream as she was pushed beneath the blade and the lunette closed around her throat.
“Hmmm….I feel like I’m forgetting something.” She snapped her fingers. “Of course! How silly of me.” She placed a padded basket under Meghan’s outstretched head. “There. All better.”
She disengaged the guillotine’s safety, put her hand on the lever, and turned to face Meghan. “I’d ask if you have any last words but honestly I don’t really care.”
“Please…” Meghan begged. “I’ll do anything for you.”
“Honey, this is the best part of my work. I hoped you would fail just so I could see your tender neck locked in tight.” She put one hand gently on Meghan’s hair and said, “Still, we can’t have any blood messing up your hair.” She smiled and pulled on the lever.
The blade came rushing down. Meghan’s scream was cut off as it bit deep into her tender throat. An instant later Helen was holding Meghan’s severed head. She kissed her lips as the life drained from her face. “Thank you for that, my dear. I, for one, particularly enjoyed it.”
She placed Meghan’s head in the basket before pressing a button on the wall and stepping back into the hallway.
“The buyer’s payment cleared this morning, Mistress,” the summoned servant said.
“Good. See that their purchase is properly prepared and shipped.”
“Yes, Mistress.”
With that, Helen turned back down the hall and up the stairs to the veranda. The six ladies looked at her expectantly. “Well, ladies, perhaps we’ll speed things up a bit. You’ll be pleased to know that you’ve all advanced to tomorrow’s second evaluation. Enjoy the afternoon, and do be sure to get a good night’s sleep tonight.”
Well...what can I say...not so different from the reality shows we enjoy nowadays. Well written
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