[A WORLD WITHOUT GEMS - CHAPTER ONE: MAID FOR THIS]

OPENING CREDITS SEQUENCE -- ENDS WITH THE "A WORLD WITHOUT GEMS" TITLE CARD.

INT. DARREN SLATER'S FLAT - NIGHT

BEDROOM

We OPEN INTO A CLOSE UP of a CAGED PARROT, set to the BACKDROP OF A LONDON COUNCIL ESTATE BEYOND GRUBBY GLASS...

..and, when we PULL BACK, we see we're not alone -- a WOMAN, too, is focused on the bird -- this is CHARLIZE WINSLOW.

In fact, Charlize is not just focussed on it -- she's laser focussed on it. The sight before her stirs a well of feeling that totally has her, until...

..DING DONG! A DOORBELL snaps her awake.

PARROT
"Yes, Daddy."

A parrot making vocal its previous overhearing of a kinky phrase like that -- some would laugh. But, Charlize -- just dreads.

DARREN SLATER (OFF SCREEN)
That'll be it. Go get it, will you?

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
That's not my job.

DARREN SLATER (OFF SCREEN)
I think you'll find a housekeeper can be reasonably expected to bring the food in. You know it. I know it. So, here I am -- expecting.

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
"Yes, Daddy."

THOSE WORDS WERE A MISMATCH TO HER MOOD and, after what appeared to be a COMPELLED DELIVERY OF THE PHRASE, she clasps her mouth shut, as if in an attempt -- too late -- to stop the utterance.

She rises to her feet.

No longer DUSTING LOW-DOWN DRAWERS, she's now stood upright in her SKIMPY MAID COSPLAY. The high contrast BLACK AND WHITE extenuate her HOUR GLASS FIGURE -- a shape formed from a CORSET-INSPIRED TOP with DECORATIVE RIBBON LACING, that hugs in all the right places, and culminates in a RUFFLED MICRO SKIRT. A WHITE APRON wraps her pelvis, WHITE STOCKINGS have travelled past toned calves to reach upper thighs. STILLETTOS point her feet, a BOW-CHOKER clings to her neck.

The LOW LIGHTING makes for the perfect conditions to appreciate her body. It's just a shame that her gait runs against this slow and sensual moment -- she SWIVELS RIGIDLY and STRIDES AWKWARDLY out of the room. It's more than just the impractical footwear affecting her movements -- it's almost as if she's a puppet to invisible strings.

ENTRANCE HALL - MOMENTS LATER

She stops at the FRONT DOOR. She exhales and long-blinks for just a fleeting reality-denying second, before...

..she lets in the DINGY FLAT BLOCK HALLWAY. She's now face to face with a DELIVERY WOMAN -- TWO PIZZA BOXES, SEVERAL OTHER CONTAINERS and a TWO LITRE SODA BOTTLE.

SUPERIMPOSE TITLE CARD -- "CHAPTER ONE: MAID FOR THIS"

DELIVERY WOMAN
Pizza for--

The deliverer looks up. Then she sees Charlize -- more than she expected to see.

From a pair of MEATY, FABRIC-TRACED THIGHS, to a COMPRESSED, OOZING BUST, BUBBLING ABOVE A GENERNOUS NECKLINE.

DELIVERY WOMAN (CONTINUED)
--for a... Darren Slater.

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
Sure.

Charlize cringes through tamed temper, as the substantial food order is awkwardly transferred from one woman to the other.

DELIVERY WOMAN
Sure you've got it?

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
Absolutely.

DELIVERY WOMAN
I could always--

SLAM! Heaving the food inside, she jabbed the door shut with her POINTED HEEL.

SITTING ROOM/KITCHEN -- MOMENTS LATER

She strains to balance, as she lowers the considerable takeout onto the CROWDED KITCHEN COUNTETOP of an EQUALLY SWARMED, SMALE SCALE FLAT -- a domicile swarmed by stray CANS, CRISPS -- ALL KINDS OF CRAP.

DARREN SLATER (OFF SCREEN)
See, that's, proper interesting. You don't ask a maid to take in your food. Or, at least, I didn't think people with maids did that. Do they?

Darren slowly swivels into view upon an EXPENSIVE GAMING CHAIR -- a true THRONE IN A COUNCIL FLAT KINGDOM -- a thrown, to who we now see and hear clearly as some SCRAWNY NINETEEN YEAR OLD GUY -- in place of any gravitas whatsoever, he's got an AURA OF NAIVETY. Literally, nothing about him stands out, at all.

And so, the mystery of what exactly is happening here thickens, because something immediately stands out about Charlize -- she strikes as a WOMAN TOO ELEGANT FOR THIS FLAT, TOO KNOCKOUT GORGEOUS FOR THIS LOSER and, with the AUTHORITY HER VOICE CAN CARRY, and the NUMBER OF YEARS SHE HAS ON THE GUY, we can easily picture her calling the shots here... if it weren't for her, "yes, Daddy,"s and sexual garments. There's an unusual atmosphere, like a UNIVERSITY PROFESSOR ANNOYED BY A TROUBLE-STUDENT, YET, FOR SOME REASON, SHE'S THE ONE TAKING ORDERS FROM HIM.

DARREN SLATER
So, maybe it is based on what you -- not me -- "reasonably consider" a housekeeper's job. Seems like there's some interpretation involved, but it isn't my interpretation, which sucks, you know?

Darren gestures to his MOBILE PHONE.

DARREN SLATTER
It's a shame because -- now, something tells me you don't -- but I, sure as hell, know of a certain kind of "movie" and, in this certain kind of "movie," babes dressed like you are now always seem to feel responsible... to "housekeep" certain other things... you get me?

He grows a devious smirk.

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
No! Don't you dare! Right now, we could easily convince people that this was some joke. Some sick joke. But, if you go any further, you're looking at--

DARREN SLATTER
What am I looking at, officer?

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
It's Detective.

The sexy maid outfit -- I mean, the chav just laughs.

Across the room -- a PILE OF DISCARDED WORK ATTIRE, complete with a UK METROPOLITAN POLICE ID FOR "CHARLIZE WINSLOW" -- a "DETECTIVE CONSTABLE."

DARREN SLATER
What I'm looking at, Charlize -- look, I remembered your name, at least -- what I'm looking at, Charlize, is the smoking hot babe who is my maid for -- how long did it say?

He navigates through an APP ON HIS PHONE, landing on a PAGE OF DETAILS.

"

MAID FOR THIS

• TRIGGER CONDITIONS: Schedule [EDIT]
• MOD DESCRIPTION: The Subject will be the User's on call house maid and must obey all the User's commands which instruct her to perform any responsibility reasonably considered to fall under the purview of a housekeeper. Occasionally, while performing her duties, her body will pose seductively... [EXPAND DESCRIPTION]
• MOD LEVEL: 1 [EDIT]
• SUBJECT AWARENESS: On [EDIT]
• OTHER AWARENESS: On [EDIT]
• SUBJECT ATTIRE: Sexy Maid 17 [EDIT]
• SCHEDULE: Sunday 8pm to 12am, Monday 8pm to 12am [EDIT]
• [EXPAND EDITS LIST]

"

DARREN SLATTER
Oh, here it is. Another three hours tonight and then same time tomorrow night. Wow! My maid.

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
I won't be coming back here.

DARREN SLATER
Well, the app says you will. Actually, not just my maid -- you're my sexy maid now, aren't you?

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
No. Darren--

He navigates through the app.

"

SAY, "YES, DADDY"

[HOTKEY]

• TRIGGER CONDITIONS: Hotkey press [EDIT]
• MOD DESCRIPTION: The Subject will be made to say, "yes, Daddy,"... [EXPAND DESCRIPTION]
• MOD LEVEL: 1 [EDIT]
• SUBJECT AWARENESS: On [EDIT]
• OTHER AWARENESS: On [EDIT]
• ACCENT: Subject's normal [EDIT]
• MODE OF ADDRESS: Subject's current [EDIT]
• [EXPAND EDITS LIST]

"

He presses the HOTKEY.

CHARLIZE WINSLOW (CONTINUED)
--"yes, Daddy."

Without even breaking her verbal flow, the COMMANDED WORDS COME RIGHT OUT OF HER MOUTH -- frustration, fear -- she's trying to hide both and remain authoritative, despite... everything.

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
Darren! You've got to stop doing that, okay? You're a guy, you've got whatever the hell that thing is -- whatever the hell is doing this -- I get it. But, I'm trying to help you out of this. You don't seem to understand how seriously this will be taken.

DARREN SLATER
I think we both know exactly how serious this will be taken.

A SILENT BEAT -- they both know what's happening here is a tough sell -- I mean, neither of them are entirely convinced.

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
Darren, I'd like to run a theory by you. Could you promise to hear me out?

His shrug says, "yeah, why not? We've got the time."

Her face says, "this is a risky card to play, but I have to try it."

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
I think you might have a score to settle... with... certain people. Maybe?

Well, that changes the undertone.

Darren perks up, intensely -- well, as intensely as this never-to-usually-be-taken-seriously guy can manage.

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
You said you'd hear me out. You're plainly in control. Just... please... lend me your ear... Daddy.

She, as is probably wise, continues to disguise her feelings -- for instance, like her newfound desire to recoil, having strategically, and willingly, chosen to refer to him in a way he so clearly enjoys.

Cogs turn in Darren's mind, before...

..he relaxes back into his chair -- deciding, "for that, I'll give playing audience a go... for now."

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
In my line of work, it's vital I empathise with certain pathologies -- empathise, not judge, or patronise, and I want to help you, Darren.

Darren wishes she hadn't sussed him out.

His mobile app displays, "GEM WALLET: 0"

DARREN SLATER
I've got no gems left.

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
Gems? It's... an app? Was it just on the app store? How--

DARREN SLATER
You're going a bit "detective." That's not what I made you come here to do.

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
You're right. I apologise. If you just want a woman to be with you, I can play that role, but not like this. I want to see the real you.

DARREN SLATER
The real me thinks you're so fucking hot, and... well, I've seen some of the mods available on this thing. My god.

Charlize picks up on the extent of his dark excitement.

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
You're right.

He looks to her, intrigued.

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
I am fucking hot.

He chuckles -- she convincingly parallels.

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
And so, with that said, wouldn't it be even... spicier... if I "chose" to do those things?

DARREN SLATER
You're just saying that because--

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
Of course, we both know I'm saying this because the alternative is my body literally gets moved against my will. Of course. But, given that's the alternative anyway, I'm willing to do "things" for you, but I'd like to talk -- properly get to know you as well. You wouldn't need to control me. You wouldn't need to earn any gems. You wouldn't need to keep secrets. What I'm asking is, wouldn't that be a lot more enjoyable, if I -- me -- that hot detective who nearly had to bust you -- sucked your cock, because she chose to?

A considered stare from the chav.

We pick up on the fact that this is all multi-layered strategy. Yes, Charlize empathises, yes, if freed, she would make good on her promise, but only as long as it takes to find an opportune moment to get this bastard in handcuffs.

DARREN SLATER
Damn. You're right, Detective. A woman -- to them, well classy, well respected, well powerful -- but, to me... well, an obedient servant with benefits. That would be so fucking hot.

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
It would, wouldn't it?

DARREN SLATER
I've been waiting a while for someone as hot as you to come along. And for me to... be able to get stuff to happen, you know?

Darren gets up from the chair.

He plods across the room. As he passes -- caressing his maid's SILKY SHOULDER -- she strategically tolerates his hand and picks her words.

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
Practice makes perfect. I'll teach... Daddy.

Darren's head floats among the clouds, his hand dives into a pizza boxes -- the retrieved SLICE'S OCEAN OF CHEESE STRETCHES, and HEAPED MEATY GOODNESS GLISTENS.

In time, he returns to earth -- having thought long and hard.

DARREN SLATER
But, I don't know if it would.

Charlize covertly sucks air -- absolutely **** to cross the finish line here.

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
Don't know if what would? Look, just turn off the app, sit, eat, and I'll explore you. The real me will.

With this he turns to her, and...

..to her shock -- SLOW MOTION marks Darren's EXAGGERATED DROPPING OF THE PIZZA SLICE!

It's now FLOOR-BOUND TOMATO-Y PULP.

She gazes up from the pepperoni mangle between her high heels...

..to a dude who flaunts his phone!

DARREN SLATER
Actually, I know it wouldn't be. You "choosing" to do this... I just wouldn't find that nearly as hot. Controlling you is... so much tastier. Like I'm some powerful supervillain from a fucked up comic.

With that bombshell, two words ripple through her mind -- "oh," and, "fuck."

DARREN SLATER
Now, Detective, clean up that pizza.

Like Ella Enchanted, her CURVACEOUS BODY JOLTS TO ATTENTION and begins to carry her with a robotic efficiency...

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
God damn it!

..first to grab a ROLL OF PAPER TOWELS...

DARREN SLATER
You know, I think you're right.

..then DOWN ON ALL FOURS to scrub the WOOD HERRINGBONE FLOORING. Her LARGE BREASTS JIGGLE with her INVOLENTARY EFFORT.

DARREN SLATER
I think does damn this. I mean, I wasn't a big God believing guy. Now, though, I'm on the fence.

But, then something occurs to Darren -- like he hasn't quite confirmed two plus two is four, but he's pretty damn sure.

The DOMESTIC SERVICE PUPPET looks up at him with a FURROWED BROW. She sees the mental calculations on his face.

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
What?

DARREN SLATER
I mean... the app... her... maybe this changes everything we thought we knew. I guess there are other powers at play, but maybe it's not something terrifying. I mean, the one that matters seems to agree that I shouldn't be in some cell. And she seems to agree with me -- you belong... like this.

He trails off.

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
What are you talking about?!

Then, Darren stops his contemplation and speaks for what he wants.

DARREN SLATER
I don't usually eat pizza straight off the cardboard, that's what I'm talking about. Find us a couple plates -- you'll have to search for them, and probably sponge them.

She growls as she BINS the ruined pizza slice.

He body SHARPLY ERECTS and begins touring her SKIMPILY SILKED-UP BODY around the room in search, dodging clutter.

Charlize notices Darren rest his phone down on the countertop... near the EMPTY SINK -- a lightbulb moment for her.

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
Get me a plug for the sink. Sounds like I'm going to have to soak them.

DARREN SLATER
What do you mean soak them?

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
Jesus. Look, I soak them, or we wait for your, probably hypothetically, dishwasher to do it.

He scans the kitchen, finds the PLUG, blocks the drain, and starts the TAP.

HER ARMS UNEARTH TWO GRUBBY PLATES -- if she were free, she would have preferred to use gloves, just in case, but her, "Sexy Maid 17," uniform didn't come with them. She picks them up with bare hands and a grimace.

DARREN SLATER
Don't feel you have to walk on eggshells. Let me have it. Because, I get it, you know? But, how wrong this is, is exactly why it's a dream come true, and part of that wrongness is you being outraged, yet obedient, so go on. Don't watch your language.

The SINK'S RISING WATER LEVEL is a great metaphor for her building rage -- she weighs up her options and comes to a decision, in the hope that she'll soon escape.

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
Okay, I won't watch my language! I think you've been a powerless little rat your entire life, and so everyone -- every woman -- begs they never inadvertently draw the attention of such an outwardly depressing, depressive, want-to-be tough guy loner who -- "yes, Daddy!"

She snarls as a quick tap to the screen of the sink-neighboring mobile TRIGGER HER **** SPEACH once again. Darren savours the sound of her latest, "yes, Daddy," being DELIVERED WITH HER CUT-SHORT MONOLOGUE'S FIRE.

Darren stops the running tap.

Charlize chooses silent defiance in the face of her puppeteer's aroused amusement -- a sexual satisfaction, heightened by the fact that the woman, whose evening he has magically filled with EYE CANDY HOUSEWORK, has found and hit on an insecurity of his, only to be effortlessly undercut by the push of a button.

DARREN SLATER
You fucking... actually, wait. No, it's better if you know. It's better if you see through me. It will make you feel that much better than me, and make it so much more satisfying to see you throw away my cum-stained tissues. Oh, that's right. Only honesty here. I've been given this, and this is going to be the one god damned place I don't pretend. The one place where I can truly indulge.

Charlize is CIRCLED AROUND TO THE SINK BY AN INVISIBILE ****.

HER HANDS SLIP THE PLATES INTO DEEP WATER and GO ON THE ATTACK WITH A SPONGE, while HER BACK IS DIRECTED TO ARCH IN SUCH A MANNER AS TO AFFORD DARREN AN UPSKIRT PERSPECTIVE. She wasn't expecting that -- a surprise dose of degrading icing atop an already unhealthy serving of humiliation cake.

Darren enters a whole new world, as he SINKS HIS STIFFENING CROTCH AGAINST HIS DISHWASHER'S SPONGY GLUTES -- he adores that the FAINT VIBRATIONS FROM HER INSTRUCTED CLEANING TASK RUMBLE THROUGH HER CHEEKS.

He whispers into her ear.

DARREN SLATER
Oh, fuck. I had things I wanted to do with my life. But, now it's just you. Nothing but telling you what to do, how to do it, and you trying to stop yourself. There's so many possibilities, so many combinations of possibilities -- of hilariously sexy wonders I'm going to make you perform -- pleasure for the lowlife you hate. This is probably as close as I can get to heaven without actually going. Well, after I get more Gems, I'm sure we can get closer.

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
But, as of right now, you're stuck with no more than a suggestive dishwasher.

DARREN SLATER
I know it must have hurt to call yourself what you are -- all you'll be until tomorrow, that is. But, if it helps, this is agony for me too.

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
Except, my honest interpretation of the command was to help around the house, pick up after you and dress ridiculous while doing it.

DARREN SLATER
You look ravishing.

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
And so, if that's the extent of my role, and I've now done what you asked--

She dries off the FRESHLY SPOTLESS PLATES with a TOWEL.

CHARLIZE WINSLOW (CONTINUED)
--I don't think your idle housekeeper could be "reasonably expected" to tolerate you grinding up against her!

She's police -- she's been in some scrapes -- unfortunately, this is just the last in a long line of instances where she's had to CONTORT OUT OF A BIND and CONNECT KNUCKLE TO A FACE!

BAM! Darren STUMBLE BACK, more surprised than concerned.

However, he sees Charlize look to his mobile phone -- a phone practically left TEATERING ON THE EDGE OF A FLOODED SINK!

A BEAT -- both aware the next moment determines everything!

She LUNGES for the phone!

He charges a yell!

DARREN SLATER
Mop the f--

SWIPE! A LIGHTNING HAND just reached from behind the kitchen counter, grabbing the phone before Charlize!

Darren and Charlize are frozen like deer in headlights.

The headlights in question -- TWO PIERCING EYES -- the phone-swiping INTRUDER is A STOIC WOMAN, with her ATHLETIC FRAME SQUEEZED INTO BLACK MOTORCYCLE LEATHER, and there she stands, with some kind of HANGUN pointed at them!

The intruder speaks, as if to someone she heard via an obviously WELL HIDDEN EARPIECE.

INTRUDER
I know, but I saved her some mopping. For tonight.

Then the penny drops -- Charlize knows her voice, her face. Though, now, with a tougher demeanour, THIS IS THE WOMAN FROM THE FRONT DOOR.

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
You're the delivery--

SHUCK! INTRUDER SHOOTS! A SMALL DART IS NOW PINNED INTO CHARLIZE'S SHOULDER!

DARREN SLATER
Thank you?

SHUCK! A DART PRICKED INTO DARREN'S NECK!

The two experience a sudden WAVE OF DROWSINESS and it's not a moment later that...

..they COLLAPSE TO THE FLOOR -- ****!

The intruder stands above them and, again, addresses someone through her earpiece, with efficient calculation.

INTRUDER
User was out of gems and the CG didn't have any viral mods. You don't have to be a control freak and meltdown every time I deviate and get it done faster, "Honey-Bunny."

We gather this badass didn't want to end her sentence like that -- their expression mirrors that of Charlize's compelled, "hey, Daddy,"s -- though, notably, despite COMPULSIVELY DELIVERING THE TITLE WITH A BRIEF FLASH OF SEXUAL SUGGESTIVENESS, familiarity with suddenly being made to do so tapers the intruder's vexation.

ENDING CREDITS SEQUENCE.

END OF CHAPTER.