The Succubus and her Butler
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Questions For Miss Butler free porn video
Questions for Miss Butler
Copyright (c) 2002 by Nom de Plume
SYDNEY: Private memorial services were conducted today for
Eric Trice, the flamboyant tycoon who perished in the
terrorist attack in Bali on 12 October. Mr. Trice, who at
one time presided over a vast business empire including
media outlets and real estate holdings, was being pursued
by New South Wales authorities for securities and bank
fraud at the time of his death. Mr. Trice left no immediate
family, and only a handful of former business associates
and employees were in attendance. His most recent
companion, Amanda Butler, who had accompanied him to Bali,
is said to be convalescing in Thailand.
***
Sergeant Sheppard of the New South Wales police knocked
respectfully on the solid mahogany door to unit 903. A few
seconds later, the door opened a fraction, and the occupant
confirmed that her visitor was the man who had called from
the lobby. The door swung open, and the beautiful woman
invited the sergeant into her swank apartment overlooking
Sydney Harbor.
Without waiting for him, she crossed the parlor to a cream
leather sofa and sat down, tucking her elegant legs under
her Burberry skirt. The sergeant followed hesitantly and
stood for an awkward moment in front of a matching club
chair. He was young and keen looking, and as he sat down he
was careful not to wrinkle the crease in his blue uniform
trousers. She looked at him impatiently as he fumbled with
his notebook and cleared his throat.
"I appreciate your seeing me this morning, Miss Butler,"
the sergeant said at length. "If you don't mind, a few
questions have come up during our investigation of the
tragic events in Bali, and I was hoping you could help us."
She closed here eyes and grimaced. "Bali. God, how I wish I
could just forget about it. Make it all go away somehow."
She opened her eyes and appraised him with a steady glare.
"Tell me what you want to know."
The sergeant was not deterred. "Miss Butler, if I may, you
were in Kuta during the evening of the terrorist attack, am
I right?"
"Yes, sergeant, you must know that I have already given a
statement to both the foreign office and representatives of
God knows how many law enforcement agencies. What more
could you possibly want to know?"
"According to our files, you did not return to Australia
afterwards, but flew direct to Bangkok the following day."
"That's right, sergeant, I have already told that to the
authorities. What concern is this of yours?"
The sergeant dropped the pretense of politeness and looked
directly into her beautiful blue eyes. "Before you answer
any further questions, I should tell you that I returned
from Bangkok yesterday. Whilst there, I paid a visit to the
Kamranhaeng Clinic. I must warn you, Miss Butler, that
anything you say might be used against you in a subsequent
criminal proceeding. Or perhaps, to be more precise, I
should refer to you as Mr. Trice?"
The blood drained from her beautiful face, and she started
to shake uncontrollably. "Oh, God, it was all for nothing,"
she cried out. "All for bloody nothing!"
***
"The good years were so short," she sighed as she inhaled a
cigarette and reclined on the plush sofa. "The private jet,
the cars, the women...." Her voice trailed off and the
sergeant paused his note taking. She had offered him a
glass of wine, which he declined, and she took another sip
from her glass before resuming. "I had it all, until the
bloody press started to question the financial
underpinnings of my empire. Built it all up from scratch,
in record time, only to see it all washed away in a few
wretched months."
Her refined voice was unchanged, but for an instant
Sergeant Sheppard could see her as she must have been, a
commanding figure in spite of his slight physique, a terror
to business rivals and an idol to worshipping sycophants.
Looking at him now, his blonde hair pinned in a French
braid, wearing a white silk blouse, tailored skirt and
sheer stockings, it was still too fantastic to believe. Yet
here he was, Eric Trice, duly warned of his rights,
spilling it all. Here she was, the sergeant corrected
himself.
"I knew that I was finished, and the trip to Bali was a
final fling with Amanda Butler before the inevitable. I
loved her, you know," she added defensively, a tear
spoiling her perfect makeup. "She adored me, and we
intended to have children, before... before this," she said
finally, looking down at her manicured hands, folded in the
lap of her skirt. She took another sip of wine and
continued, staring off into space as she talked.
"I had taken a call from my solicitors, and Amanda went on
ahead of me to Paddy's pub. I was just pitching up when the
first blast knocked me clean off my feet. There was the
most horrible screaming, and the heat was so intense... I
dragged myself back to our hotel to wait for her. But I
knew she would never return. Nobody who was in that place
was coming out of it, I could tell that, and the next
morning I learned that very few of them were even
recognizable. As I sifted through her things in the hotel,
sorting out her clothing and papers, the idea came to me."
She looked again at the sergeant and her tone became
defiant. "As long as I can remember, I always had all the
women I wanted, and I loved being a man. Never in a million
years did I want to do this to myself. But there I was, a
fugitive from my own country, facing a lengthy prison term
and financial ruin. And there in my hands was the key to my
escape: Amanda Butler's passport. A girl who had run away
to Australia, with no friends or family, and a sizeable
fortune.
"We were about the same height, had the same coloring, and
people used to tease us that we looked like brother and
sister. As I stood in front of a mirror and tied my long
hair back into a ponytail, I began to believe that I could
actually pull it off. I found one of her dresses and held
it against myself, and suddenly I knew it was going to
work. Eric Trice would be the one who died in the blast
that night, and Amanda Butler would return to Sydney and
resume her life.
"It took me hours to shave off all of my body hair, and
endless trial and error before I got the knack of putting
on makeup. All the while, I knew I was racing against the
clock, as I had to be ready to present myself before the
authorities came looking for Eric Trice. The first time I
put on her bra and panties, I felt absurd, ridiculous...
but I told myself again and again that life as a woman
would be better than getting raped in prison. Her skirts
and dresses fit me perfectly. When I finally got myself
together and looked in the mirror, decked out complete with
heels and stockings, I was Amanda Butler.
"A fast dash to the airport, a small bribe to get myself on
the first flight out of Bali, and I found myself sitting in
first class on Singapore Airlines, chatting with a man
seated next to me who couldn't take his eyes off my legs. I
willed myself to become a woman, just as I had willed
myself to pull off fantastic business deals, instinctively
doing all the little things right in order to survive. By
the time I arrived in Bangkok after a quick change of
planes in Singapore, I knew what I had to do, and do
quickly before I had a chance to change my mind."
She paused and drained her glass of wine, then got up and
walked across the thick pile carpet in her stockinged feet
to the wet bar, where she found another bottle of expensive
Chardonnay. As she opened it with a small corkscrew, the
sergeant observed her intently. Her movements were graceful
and feminine, and it was impossible to believe that she had
once been Eric Trice, the scourge of the business world.
When she sat back down on the sofa and crossed her elegant
legs, he found himself staring at them, and he quickly
looked away before she continued her confession.
"The operation was a horror. I got drunk before I went to
the clinic, and paid them a small fortune to put me at the
head of the queue. When I woke up, and realized what I had
done to myself, I went half crazy, and I would have torn
the place apart if I hadn't been in so much pain. I fell
into a deep depression, with no energy, no drive... no
balls," she sighed. "Female hormones were prescribed, and
as my scars healed and the hormones took hold, I began to
notice profound changes. I had a woman's body now, and
although I yearned for my old life as a man, I forced
myself to adapt to my new situation.
"Plastic surgery and breast implants completed my
transformation to Amanda Butler, and by the time I left
Bangkok, I was reconciled to my fate. After all, I was a
beautiful, wealthy woman. I returned to Sydney to live a
quiet life as I coped with the practicalities of being a
female. Would I be able to love a man? Would I use my
business skills to build a new fortune, and shatter the
glass ceiling? Or would I just grow into an old woman,
nursing Amanda's trust fund until the money ran out and I
went on the dole?" Once again her voice trailed off, and
she finished another glass of wine, looking utterly
miserable.
Sergeant Sheppard closed his notebook and stood up. "Thank
you for your cooperation. You have a few minutes before we
take you into custody." He reached for his cell phone, and
began to place a call to his station.
Amanda Butler, nee Eric Trice, got up from the sofa and
walked over to the balcony with a commanding view of the
spectacular harbor. What did fate hold for her now? The
media circus surrounding her trial would be a nightmare.
Would it be a men's or a women's prison they sent her to?
Long, dreary years in a gray cell, followed by scorn and
ridicule when she finally got out, a dried up old raisin of
a woman....
For one last time, Eric Trice acted decisively to take
destiny into his own hands. Without hesitation, the woman
he had become opened the balcony door and flung herself
over the rail. She felt free as she tumbled through the
air, and her last conscious thought was to hold down her
billowing skirt as she plummeted towards the ground.
***
ABC Radio News: Amanda Butler, 29, died this morning in an
apparent suicide after she leaped from the ninth floor
balcony of her luxury apartment in Sydney. Police speculate
that Butler, who was the constant companion of Eric Trice
before he was killed in Bali last year, was despondent over
his death and took her own life. Also today, the High Court
in Canberra struck down an attempt by AMP Insurance to
avoid payment of key man insurance on Trice because his
death was caused by terrorism. Trice had taken out $500
million in insurance on behalf of employee superannuation
funds shortly before his business empire collapsed in a
wave of scandal. The court ruled that the only grounds for
denial of payment would have been suicide.
***
The lone witness at the interment of Amanda Butler stood at
a respectful distance as her coffin was lowered into an
unmarked grave. He lingered until the gravediggers arrived,
and when they began to work with their shovels, he
approached and dropped what appeared to be a small notebook
onto her casket. He watched until it was covered with fresh
earth, then turned and walked slowly back towards his
waiting police car.
By the author of "The Jessica Project"
Valentina
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