The Re-Purposing of Alouette LeGran

"Ah ha!" I spat, as I noticed writing on the base beneath the case. I peered at the mantle as I moved in for a closer look. The engraved writing read: Alouette Le Grand, 2005. "Interesting...." I mused. I recalled the name from my travels in Northern France, but only in small blinks and shards of memory. I thought that perhaps I had heard of a stage performer... yes, perhaps an acrobat..... or some such physical talent exhibitionist that I had come across in a newspaper story or perhaps even from some late night television show during those moments when sleep encroached upon the waking world around me. Never the less, despite my inability to recall where I had encountered the name, I still questioned the rationale of what I was witnessing. If only I could quench my infernal curiosity as to why a chained female mannequin dressed in Bastille Day attire held me in such rapt fascination. I would indeed have to inquire of the Swede as to its purposes.

Effectively, Perrin rapt upon the chamber door and called out, "Mr. Chanter-Prime, sir? Are you ready to engage the master?"

"Yes, yes..." I called out. "I am on my way." And with that I turned from my object of deep fascination and headed to meet with Perrin in the outer hall.

Following Perrin down several hallways, all matching the decor I have previously related, we were headed up a short stack of stairs to another level when I was presented with yet another shock not unlike the one I had just witnessed. There, at the head of the stairs was yet another glass case. This case too sported a ceramic figure of a woman dressed in another garish costume. The colors this time were canary yellow, emerald green and certain sections were purest white. The wig this time was for a light brown haired brunette with wispy strands and the non-detailed face sported a white mask that hid the top half of the face, with requisite eye holes and then wrapped around the head beneath the hair and flowed down into a rounded neck collar at the shoulders. She had a green cape lined around the rim in yellow and high heel stiletto boots that rose to her mid thigh. And once again, as with Alouette Le Grand, her wrists were manacled as well with black iron and chains, as were her ankles.

Perrin noticed I had ceased my following his lead and that I stood gawking at this newest trophy case. "Ah, I see you've noticed the Swede's collection."

"Oh?" I blanched. "Are there even more?"

"All over the house, sir. This one is the Magic Maiden."

I placed my hands in my pockets and leaned backward as I regarded the figure. "A curious collection of costumes. But I am puzzled by the capture theme, the black irons and chains."

He regarded me with mild surprise. "Well, sir. The Swede is most proud of his work. He enjoys placing them on display."

I blanched again, finding myself a bit confused. "I see, so he designs the women's carnival costumes and them places them on display as a form of art work?" I shook my head derisively. "I find it hard to believe that he makes much of a profit from these oddities."

"Oh, no sir." He almost whispered. "He makes his fortune from their sale in the market. The costumes he keeps as his own trophy."

I looked sideways at him in confusion. "You have truly lost me, Perrin."

"It would perhaps be better if the master himself explained things to you, sir. Though personally, I wish the whole business would go belly up. Magic Maiden was one of the best.... tragic thing..... tragic thing." He related while shaking his head in a bit of sorrow. He then turned and continued to lead me down the hallway. I looked back briefly at the ceramic figure decked out in garish attire and studied the blank ceramic face covered with the white mask. Egad, I thought to myself. Did a real young woman once wear this awful get-up? And then my eyes beheld the manacled wrists. And was she somehow ... imprisoned by the Swede?

Only a few doors down the corridor Perrin let me into the large state room through double doors made of heavy dark cherry wood. Inside, the room was comfortably lighted by a majestic fireplace and laid out with exorbitant furniture that was both welcoming and comfortable. "Mr. Chanter-Prime, sir." Perrin announced and then pulled the double doors shut as he exited. Near the fireplace, my host the Swede, raised himself from behind a high backed chair with a small book in his hand. "Oh, very good...." He said while rising. He turned to meet my oncoming handshake and said, "Xander! How good of you to take me up on my offer! A pleasure to see you, old man!"

He wore a red smoking jacket with a dark orange ascot beneath his neck opening. A small pipe protruded from thin lips and his demeanor was one of a man ready to retire for the night. I took his hand in a shake of friendship and greeted him as well. "Xander, please come and join me for a cigar and brandy before you retire for the night." He offered.

"It has been a long trip, and it is rather late." I offered. Just then the exterior windows briefly lit with the flash of storm lightning, and reminded me of the raging maelstrom still buffeting the house.

"Come. Sit." He offered as he gestured to the chair across from his near the fire. "The last time we spoke was in similar circumstances.... " He began and turned and poured some brandy into a sniffer within his reach. He then retrieved a cigar from a nearby box and offered one to myself along with the half filled snifter of brandy.

"This time I shall be able to drift off to a delicious sleep..... instead of having to politic with the locals until the wee morning hours." I told him with a wink and a nod.

"Let the brandy relax your mood and the rain block out any disturbances, then in the morning we shall get right into it."

It would appear I have already tripped upon your most unusual predilection...."

He raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Indeed?"

"Yes, your.... Alouette Le Grand....and, um... Magic Maiden...." I referred to with reserved curiosity.

"Ah, yes.... well... having you inside the mansion... I suppose that would have happened....." He mused with a far away look in his eye. "Some of my most satisfying business ventures."

I sat back in the high back chair and puffed on the cigar with one hand while holding the snifter in my other. "Pray tell, my friend.... are these artistic creations for a select audience... or are we speaking of actual persons involved?"

He shifted in his chair and replied, "Well, both displays that you have seen were indeed actual women. But very special women for whom I was richly paid."

"You were paid for these women? Are we speaking of a specialized type of prostitution?"

He waved his hand, "Oh, no. Although some may have ended up in that position, that is not my intent. No, this Alouette Le Grand and Magic Maiden were what one refers to as 'Super heroines'."

I sipped my brandy thoughtfully. "Super....heroines?" I queried.

"Is the concept foreign to you?"

"In reality... yes... however I am aware of a predilection fetish in certain circles...."

"Ah, indeed! But these costumes where no mere $40.00 bedroom game concoction. They are the real thing, taken from the bounteous bodies of the champions themselves."

At that moment my memory jogged in relation to Alouette Le Grand. "ooohhh, yes...." I said with slow realization. "I had heard of an Alouette Le Grand some time ago in the Paris area who had foiled a string of bank robberies, I believe."

"Yes! Yes, one and the same!" He acknowledged. "Allow me to elucidate." He replied and reached over the back of his chair and retrieved what appeared to be a television remote control. He aimed the control at the space just above the fire and a wooden door slid up into the ceiling to reveal a giant monitor concealed behind it. "I had hoped to do much of this tomorrow....." He said while pressing buttons on the remote. "But since you are already engaged...."

The monitor came to life with a solid blue screen that illuminated the room and then numbers and codes appeared within the field. "Here we go...." He said while pressing certain buttons that made the screen image lurch and change. In a moment there was a scene which was recorded in the brightest of day, with a large group of people surrounding a dais raised above the throng. There was a special microphone speaking stand in the middle of the dais and the Maire of Paris, France was speaking to the surrounding crowd. To his left, standing tall and proud as I had imagined her, was the unmistakable personage of Alouette Le Grand. And as luck would have it, I was indeed right about the revealing nature of her talented mammaries as they nestled within the top of her bustier.

"There is Alouette Le Grand." My host instructed me. "This is the day she received an award for Citizenship above and beyond the call of duty from the Maire himself."

"So I see...." I responded without looking away from the view screen.

The Maire was indeed making a complimentary speech toward the buxom young lady dressed in the horrendous star spangled outfit next to him. Her auburn hair swayed with a light breeze and she wore a huge pink lipstick smile as she listened to the accolades. Her fists were triumphantly planted upon the sides of her shapely berthing hips and it was easy to see that even with the phenomenal shape of her female form, that she was toned and fit beyond the usual. I found myself stirring just to see her standing there in her outrageous outfit which I privately thought would be put to better use in a gentlemen's club. I also noticed, but made no mention of the fact, that contrary to what I had seen in the trophy room, Alouette Le Grand also wore a half cape over her back and long, opera styled magenta gloves upon her arms. These items had been missing from the glass case, and this was most unfortunate, for they truly brought the overall concept design to full fruition. A pity they were now not included with the ensemble.

"That's one healthy girl!" I intimated.

"Oooooh, yes!" My host retorted and then pressed a few more buttons on the remote.

The screen changed to a few more moments after the Maire had finished his speech and Alouette Le Grand now stood holding the large, solid gold award and plaque in front of her as she thanked the adoring crowd. "I would like to thank all of you for your appreciation and recognition," She beamed with a big, happy smile. "And I hope to continue to make this city safe for all men and women who share our great city and deserve to be protected from the villainy and scum of criminal activity that threatens all of our very lives and the lives of our families."

With that the crowd erupted into applause and cheers and Alouette Le Grand turned and shook the Maire's hand while lifting up her solid gold trophy in victory with her other hand.

"Here are some more shots of her in action..." He continued as the screen changed to another scene containing Alouette Le Grand.

"By the way.... " He included while turning his wrist over to show me a few of the solid gold rings on his left hand. "That citizenship trophy she was awarded by the Maire? Helped to make some of this exquisite jewelry I am now wearing."

"You ..... eh... melted it down?"

"Of course..." He replied with a bit of glee.

"Where is Alouette Le Grand now, my friend?" I asked with a bit of impatient interest.

"Let the video snippets take you on that journey." He assured me. We then turned to watch more of Alouette Le Grand's newsreel footages.

Indeed the young woman, whom I had correctly guessed was all the age of twenty-five, was a powerhouse. The video showed her lifting a large bus by using an amazingly talented bird song and then taking off into the air with it as she effortlessly flew, under her own power, with the vehicle that must have been 5 tons in weight.

She then displayed her fighting skills under a per-arranged exhibition where half a dozen brutish looking men all advanced on her with various weapons, only to find each one dispatched in turn to an adoring and applauding crowd. Alouette Le Grand was more than just a passing tale I had heard of once in my travels. She was indeed the champion of justice she claimed to be. And had the grit to back it up.

The scenes showed many such exploits of news footage of Alouette Le Grand saving lives and performing daring-do for the betterment of mankind with her almost magical birdsong talent, and I was chagrined at my lack of awareness as to such heroic public exploits. Then the Swede fast forwarded the video feed and landed on a scene with a much different mood and feeling. The picture before us was strangely green hued, like those one would see when filmed with night vision lenses. I was informed that secret cameras were always used in these procedures to ensure realistic, honest interaction.

"Now that you have seen her in action.... it's time to show you her inaction." The Swede flatly stated.

The scene appeared to take place in a dimly lit dungeon of a room. The accoutrements surrounding the perspective were hard to make out with the green shaded tone of the production. Before us, slightly to the left of the screen, was the face of Alouette Le Grand herself, her hair falling over half of her face and a grimaced expression etched into her features. Her hands were on either side of her head and obviously bolted down to some type of furniture upon which she seemed to be straddled across while on her belly.

Behind her head, her lovely backside was lifted high and exposed and she struggled and wiggled to try and remove herself from the inconvenient position. She wore her gaudy star spangled mask, her gloves, and I assume her boots as well, though her legs were hidden somewhere below camera angle and out of our view. Her buttocks, however, and seemingly her midriff as well, were completely nude. She had been stripped of everything but the outer garments of her costume.

Her tea colored eyes, now turned green by the night lens, flashed and darted with an alien oddness as she spat unintelligible orders and protests over her shoulder to some unseen person who apparently was there in the room with her. She tossed her hair and pulled at her restraints. Her rear end swayed back and forth, presumably with the attempted movement of her legs and feet as she tried to free herself.

I was aghast and perplexed by what I was witnessing. "My word!" I exclaimed as my mouth began to dry. "What has happened to the poor girl?"

"At this point, she is now my captive and beginning her training." He stated matter-of-factually.

"Training?" I asked with rapt amazement.

"Oh, yes. Her kind must be tamed and trained for specialized use."

"Use?" I blanched. "Why sir, you speak as though this heroine was but a bit of product."

"At this point, she IS product. This is what I do. I remove problems for my clients and then re-purpose those problems for intentions that will keep them occupied and useful for another kind of service."

I sat back in my chair with a bit of chagrin and realization. "Ah.... so, Alouette Le Grand is no more."

"She provided her owner with a service for quite a few years beyond the initial training, but as of today..... well, as of about a year ago, Alouette Le Grand has been permanently eliminated. Some sort of accident I have been told. However in the interim, I made a handsome profit which has assisted me in being able to live as I do and engender further business from past and also future clients."

A bit saddened by the news, I asked, "And how did you do it, sir? How did you come to bring down such a mighty girl as this... who can even fly!"

"Well." He began. "Not long after those foiled bank robberies, a client for whom she had caused considerable loss and trouble time and again, contacted my organization and requested help, seeing as they had time and again failed to do so under their own power."

"Therefore, we planned a series of troubled instances.....such things as gas station fires, bridge collapses, possible terrorist bombings, train derailments and so on..... all programmed to take place either simultaneously or in tandem over the span of three to four days. Alouette Le Grand, now the beloved heroine of the populace, was so consigned to push herself to be involved in as many dangerous mishaps as she could possibly handle."

"Naturally, of course, even the super strong and the invulnerable have their point where mental fatigue takes over and sleep is inescapable. Once we saw that she was indeed brought to the brink, it was a bit of child's play to have her followed by a specialize squad of hooded men trained for such a job, to see where she would go to find her much needed rest. Surprisingly, home she did go."

"Once my cohorts saw that she had graced herself in her sleeping nighty and fallen dead away, it was rather easy to simply converge upon her bed with twenty men to hold her down while chloroform pads were applied to her nose and mouth. Oh, she struggled mightily, that is for sure.... but waking from REM sleep and not fully regenerated.... my men soon had the lass unconscious and bound. She was then shipped to a training facility.... the one you see now on the screen..... located offshore in the Bahamas."

"But," I interjected. "She can fly. How do you control a heroine who can fly away?" I queried with rapt confusion.

"Our science boys have studied these types for some years now, .... many brain studies and operations have been done..... some with unfortunate ends..... such ends cost millions in final profit, but they discovered that any ability... begins with a mental command. Say for instance, you take a sip of your brandy only after you decide to do so. If you cannot send that command... or say you do send one but there is no response, then you do not enjoy your brandy. It's the same with a power of flight.... or in Magic Maiden's case, for instance.... she was able to summon objects out of thin air or move great objects long distances simply by willing it to happen.... well, once that ability to command the action is taken away.... the power is seemingly lost, though it may indeed still be present....quixotically, it can no longer be called upon."

"So.... you use some sort of brain blocker?"

"Exactly. Sometimes a drug will suffice... depending on the client, for they may enjoy the constant subjugation and power trip of inoculating a heroine with a controlling drug. Or, as was the instance with Alouette Le Grand, a physical blocker may be installed at the base of the skull and then removed at a later date when training takes hold. Either way, the heroine is rendered helpless and as normal as any other woman."

"Surely, once they escape.... you'll have an enraged and powerful woman to deal with."

"Ah, well that is where the training comes in. Once their will is broken and they are trained to serve, they believe their powers have been overcome. They don't even try to solve the riddle of how we could have beaten them and removed their abilities.... they simply believe that they are now rendered normal and helpless..... and all because we told them it was so."

I was amazed that such a thing could be. "I find this all very untenable, sir."

"Watch the video." He told me. "You will see how we begin the process."

I turned and saw a large, dark muscled man, probably African in descent I supposed, enter the viewing screen. He was hooded, covering his head and face, save for the eyes and he wore only dark, possibly leather pants and boots. His bare chest was gratified with what appeared to be a plethora of tattoos. He was a beast of a thing, at least 6 feet and a half and perhaps 250 pounds. His chest and arms where muscled like a man who could bench press immense amounts of weight.

In his right hand he held a long flat board which had been whittled down at one end into a pole shape and taped like a baseball bat. He paced menacingly behind Alouette Le Grand, whose protests seemed to kick up a notch and she spat and cursed and pulled at her restraints. After a few pacings back and forth, the large man closed in on the poor girl's exposed behind and swung with a mighty blow against the rounded derriere.