"tory: Extracted « on: September 26, 2013, 04:00:57 AM »" By robblu (https://pastebin.com/u/robblu) URL: https://pastebin.com/D1RZJXtB Created on: Friday 19th of May 2017 12:42:40 AM CDT Retrieved on: Saturday 31 of October 2020 03:20:48 AM UTC tory: Extracted « on: September 26, 2013, 04:00:57 AM » ReplyQuote The yellow warning light snapped on, just above the shutters covering the big one-way mirror in her alcove; her stomach fluttered in a way that she’d become sort of addicted to. Leah stood up and took a deep breath, closing her eyes, finding a calm place. Her naked body glistened, its light covering of body oil catching the small amount of light provided by the ready-lighting in the alcove. She stretched, then let her head wobble in a full orbit around her shoulders. Her skin buzzed, anticipation arcing through her as she prepared. The yellow light went off with a pop, and the red light next to it snapped to life. The shutters covering the one way mirror rolled up, not particularly slowly but in her current state of mind seeming to take hours to crawl up their tracks. She looked at herself in the big mirror, dim outline of her form shimmeringly sensual in the low light. She struck a pose, one hip shot out, one hand on that hip, one dangling at her side. She smiled a big, toothy smile and closed her eyes. The whine of the shutter-motor stopped, the sound of the shutter rolling up seeming to fade slowly away, and then the bright show lights in her alcove snapped on with a thunk. She could hear the same thunk echo in the alcoves to her right and left and in front of her, all around the darkened room on the other side of the mirror. As the thunk faded, she opened her eyes; the trick would make her look less like a stunned deer to whoever was standing in the darkened room. Music came on, something bouncy and electronic, and she started to dance. She’d come here for the first time about six months ago, dragged along by a friend who shared her taste for the perilous and macabre. They’d eaten dinner first, on their way to a night out dancing; the friend, Shelly, suggested that they stop by this place first, on the way to the club. A way to make some quick spending money, she’d said, to finance a great night out -- and to get them in the mood for adventure. “Wait,” she’d said, “Make money?” She looked across the diner table at her friend, suspicions blossoming. Shelly nodded, engrossed in her early-evening omelet. “Five hundred bucks. And we won’t really have to do anything for it.” She took a bite, chewed, swallowd. “Well. Probably.” “Probably.” Leah knew there was a shoe yet to drop, and she knew her friend would take some pleasure in drawing it out. “Does this place have a name?” Shelly shook her head. “It’s not the kind of place that advertises, so no, not really. It’s in an old industrial space, out on 40.” Another bite, chew and swallow. “It’s kind of a brothel.” “Kind of a brothel.” Leah said it flatly. She had adventurous tastes, but turning tricks for drinking money seemed a little bit pedestrian for Shelly, especially given the amount of casual innocence she was projecting across the table. “I thought you said we wouldn’t have to do anything.” “Probably,” said Shelly, emphasizing the point with a wave of her fork. “Probably,” repeated Leah. “But there’s some sort of catch.” Shelly grinned. “There is a catch.” She opened her mouth, then closed it, trying to find the right words, clearly torn between trying to shock her friend and trying to talk her into going along. “It’s a brothel for necrophiliacs.” “For necrophiliacs.” Leah leaned back in her chair. She was simultaneously sure she was uninterested after all, and very aroused by the idea. “So... they need dead girls...? What, do we take some sort of knock-out drug and then let men have their way with...?” The idea had a certain amount of appeal, actually. “No,” said Shelly. “They kill you, and the men get to haves sex with your dead body.” Shelly’s grin was decidedly impish; she’d clearly decided to go with shock value. It worked. Leah was definitely sure she was not interested, and also even more aroused. She decided to play along. “Seems like a lot to ask for five hundred dollars.” She folded her arms across her chest. The idea of being killed, snuffed out so that someone could have his way with her corpse, was regular fantasy material for her, and Shelly knew it. “It does, doesn’t it? Shelly took another bite. “And we wouldn’t be able to go dancing afterward.” Shelly set down her fork and leaned forward. “OK, so it works like this. A guy goes in, pays $10K to have sex with a dead girl. His name goes on a list; when there are ten girls ready, the next guy on the list gets to choose one. She gets snuffed and he gets to have his way with her; the rest of the girls get $500. The brothel deals with disposing of the bodies.” Leah blinked as she thought it through. “Um.” She picked up a sugar packet and fiddled with it. “It seems like this would give ugly girls the advantage. I mean... if nobody wants to have sex with you, it’s a free $500.” Shelly laughed. “There’s a screening, they don’t do ugly girls or fat girls unless that’s what the guy requests. There’s a pretty detailed questionnaire they use to figure out the guy’s ‘type,’ if he has one, so you’re only in there with other girls he might want...” Leah’s forehead crinkled as she thought about it. On the one hand, it was completely crazy. On the other hand, it was pretty low odds of being picked, and an easy batch of cash, and oh my god would it make her horny... “OK,” she said, “Let’s at least check it out.” The spot was as desolate as it could be; they’d driven through at least a mile of bustling-by-day, haunted-looking-by-night industrial zone to get there. There was a ramp leading down to a garage door with a simple keypad; Shelly keyed in the number she’d been texted after requesting an appointment through her account on the website. The garage door rolled up; they drove slowly through an empty first level, following instructions that led them down three floors and toward the back; that section of the parking garage was filled with cars. They parked in the spot number they’d been given and made their way to the door marked “service,” ignoring the big front door (for clients) and the nearly-identical door marked “staff.” Their code got them through that door and the next one at the end of the hallway the first door opened on to; that led to a registration desk and a comfortable, if sterile, waiting room. There were a number of other young women in the waiting room, reading magazines or chatting; there was no cell phone reception down here. There was some paperwork to fill out; the woman behind the desk was polite but formal. Their pictures were taken and they were told to wait; because it was their first time, they’d need to go through an initial evaluation before they were assigned a viewing group. Leah sat quietly, looking around at the other girls; as Shelly had said, all of them were attractive, well-formed young women. Most sat in groups of two or three, but there were a couple of singletons; a young-looking redhead, sitting nervously hunched over her folded arms; a woman with multicolored hair wearing some sort of uniform. Wow, she thought to herself; she wouldn’t have had the nerve to show up here by herself. A thought occured to her; she looked around again, counting the women in the room There were thirteen, not counting her and Shelly; so, she thought, one of the women in this room will probably not live through the evening. Maybe me. She shivered. She didn’t stand up and walk out; she did sit and wonder why she didn’t. When her name was called, she was led into a small well-lit room with a stool in the middle of it and a couple of hooks beside the door. The young woman who led her back into the room smiled and said, “Go ahead and strip down, put your clothes on the hook, your evaluator will be in in a moment.” She stripped and hung her clothing on the hooks, arranging her shoes neatly beneath them. She sat down on the stool. A few minutes later, there was a knock on the door, which then opened; an older woman came in carrying a clipboard. “Hi,” she said, “You’re Leah?” Leah nodded. She was nervous and excited; sitting naked in the room was edging her further over onto the nervous side. “I’m Grace,” said the older woman. “Can I get you to stand for me?” Leah stood, her hands nervously at her side. “Can you put your arms straight out, and turn?” Leah put her arms straight out and turned once around. Grace smiled. “Good. You look just fine, I’m going to rate you as passable average; passable is just the opposite of ‘not passable’, there are only two grades there, and ‘average’ means that you’ll do just fine for a client of average tastes, you’re not a specialized body type or look.” Grace checked a couple of boxes on her clipboard. “Do you have any questions?” She asked, looking up and meeting Leah’s eyes. Leah shook her head. Grace’s expression got a little more serious. “You understand that if you’re picked by a client, you’ll be killed?” Leah opened her mouth, then closed it. She nodded. “You’re sure you don’t have any questions about that?” Leah blinked. She did, but she figured she’d have the answers to them soon enough. “I, uh... Well, how will... I mean, if I’m chosen, how...” She blushed, flustered. Grace smiled. “We have a garroting chair that we use for most of our extractions. The client is allowed to make special requests, as to method, but the girl he chooses is not required to go along with them; after all, he can do whatever he likes to her, afterward.” She smiled. “You know what garroting is?” Leah shook her head. “It’s strangling. You sit in a chair with a high back, a thin cord goes around your neck and through a hole at the back of the chair. Someone behind the chair puts a stick through the cord, and they twist, pulling it tight around your throat.” She smiled again. “With the thin cord, it’s pretty instantaneous.” Leah cleared her throat, it felt suddenly like something was caught in it. “Uh, am I allowed to, you know, watch one, before I...?” Grace shook her head. “Only the clients and the girls from that particular group are allowed to watch extractions.” She made a face. “Otherwise it gets sort of out of hand.” Leah’s forehead wrinkled. “Extraction?” Grace smiled again. “That’s what we call it, you know, the process of killing one of the girls. We try to use some less emotionally charged language...” Leah still looked confused. “I don’t get it, what’s being extracted?” “Well.” Grace looked serious. “You are. You’re being extracted from the valuable body you’re inhabiting.” “Oh.” After grading, she went back out and sat in the waiting room again. There were less women now; the redhead, the gothy-uniform girl, and eight other young women she’d counted before weren’t there; she guessed they’d been selected for a viewing. Shelly came out a few minutes after she had, all smiles. “Did you ask anything good?” “I asked how they, you know, did it.” Leah described the garroting process. Shelly looked a little shocked, but quickly got over it. “So, I asked about coming back. You only have to go through the grading process once per quarter, so if we come back again, we won’t have to wait, we’ll just sign in and be in the next group.” “Oh,” said Leah, “I guess that encourages repeat...” Shelly was nodding. “Yeah,” she said. “You know what else? Apparently, the more you come back, the more likely it is for someone to pick you. Because, she said, you get comfortable with it, and guys are more likely to pick someone who’s comfortable, who looks like she wants to be here.” Leah frowned, thoughtfully. She guessed that made sense. It made her feel a little less nervous, but also a little disappointed, to think that in all likelihood she wouldn’t be taking a seat in that chair with the high back tonight. She looked around the room, wondering who would. There were four women all in a group, talking animatedly; they looked relaxed. One of them threw back her head and laughed out loud while she was watching them. They looked like secretaries or something; people who worked in a professional environment but weren’t really professionals. A lone woman sat across the room, slumped down in her chair; she was wearing blue jeans and a maching jean jacket. She looked bored and a little angry; Leah figured her for having some sort of blue-collar job. Two women sitting directly across from her and Shelly looked... well, just like her and Shelly. A young black woman opened the door she’d been called to the examination room through, obviously having just been through the same examination. A minute later, an asian woman came out of the same door and joined her; a minute after that, another black woman. They leaned forward, having some somber, low-toned conversation. She watched another single woman -- secretary, she thought -- come in from outside, sign in, and sit down; she’d been here before. A small group that looked like they all worked in the same alternative coffee shop. A small, quiet girl with a book. After about twenty minutes, the exam-room door opened and a group of women came out all at once; she recognized them from before she’d been called back for examination. A group of three came first, chattering, then a pair of friends, quiet; the nervous-looking redhead, still looking nervous. She counted nine, altogether. The girl with the multicolored hair and the weird uniform didn’t come out. She was sitting back, an image forming in her mind of that girl, sans uniform, settling back into a high-backed chair, cord falling down over her head, when the door opened again, and Grace was standing there with her clipboard. She started to call out names, checking them off her list as each young woman walked past her, through the door. Leah’s was the seventh name called; Shelly’s the eighth. Grace led them down a hallway and into a small entry-room; two hallways led down off either far corner, and a single door stood in the center of the far wall. Grace turned to address them as the last of them came into the room. “When I tell you,” she said, “you’ll each go down one of these two hallways and pick a door. You’ll go into the alcove behind that door, and pull the door shut behind you. When the yellow light turns on, you’re to strip down, stark naked; when the red light goes on, the shutters will open and the bright lights will come on in the room. You won’t be able to see the client, it’s a one-way mirror, but he’ll be able to see you. After the client has made his selection, the shutters will close, and I’ll come get the girl he’s selected; after she and I have made our way to the extraction station, the green light will come on and your doors will open; then Charlotte here..” Leah noticed that there was another, younger woman in the room who was also carrying a clipboard. Charlotte waved. “Charlotte will give you your money, and then she’ll take you all down to the viewing area, so you can view the extraction if you want.” Grace looked around the room, meeting as many of the young women’s eyes as she could. The girl all in denim didn’t look up at her. “Any questions?” There weren’t any. Leah and Shelly both made their way down the left-hand hallway, stopping about halfway down. There was a number over Leah’s door: 3. She looked over at Shelly, nervously. Shelly looked bemused, like she was overwhelmed but rolling with it. She met Leah’s eyes. “Extraction?” she said. Leah smiled, and stepped through the door. She just stood there, that first time, naked and trembling, trying to remember not to cross her arms or pick anything. It felt like she was standing alone in a well-lit room, in front of a mirror, and it was hard to remember that she had an audience. After about five minutes, the house lights went off with a click, the yellow light came on, and the shutters came noisily down. She stood there in the silent, dimly-lit room, and heard the click-click of Grace’s shoes coming down the hallway. Leah’s heart was momentarily in her throat, but then came the sound of someone else’s door opening, and someone else gasping; then Grace click-click-clicked her way back down the hallway. Leah imagined she heard the soft pad of bare feet walking along behind. She quickly dressed; she was sliding her shoes on when the green light when on, and her door unlocked itself. She turned the knob, stepped out into the hallway, blinking in the light; at the next door down, Shelly was grinning crookedly. They walked down the hallway to where Charlotte was waiting with thin envelopes of hundred-dollar bills. Leah and Shelly followed Charlotte back out of the foyer and down the hallway. Leah realized that she had forgotten to look around and see who was chosen; now she felt self-conscious about turning around and looking. She’d know in a minute, she thought. Charlotte led them into another door, where empty nine chairs sat in front of a big window, shuttered on the outside; the viewing side, Leah realized, of another one-way mirror. She filed down to the end and sat down, still obstinately not looking at who else was or wasn’t in in the group. After the last of the girls had made their way into the long, dark, narrow room, Charlotte closed the door from the outside. There was a mechanical sound, and the shutter moved up out of the window, leaving them with a view of a white room, empty except for the chair standing in the center of it, and the young, naked black woman sitting in the chair. And Grace, who was standing behind the chair, hands on either end of a stick on the back of the chair. A thin cord was set around the throat of the young woman in the chair. Her hands were cuffed to the chair’s arms, her ankles to its two front legs. Her knuckles were visibly pale, gripping the chair tightly. The expression on her face was... not blank, exactly, but very controlled. Grace was saying something; the girl nodded. Grace said something else... then something... Counting, Leah realized. At some point, she got to whatever number she’d told the girl in the chair she’d count to, and the girl in the chair opened her mouth; Leah thought she was going to scream, but she just took a deep breath. Leah wondered if that was a good idea. Grace turned the stick over, swapping hands end-over end, then did it again, and again, and again -- two full turns, which had had the effect of pulling the black girl’s head back against the high back of the chair, and pushing her chin down... Leah could see the cord pulling deeply into her throat. The girl’s face lost that controlled expression, and her hands let loose of the arms of the chair, fingers splaying, the muscles of her arms standing out as they strained against the restraints; her eyes were wide, her mouth open, her head moving back and forth but not very much. Grace had obviously set the stick into some sort of slot or something, because it stayed when she let go of it and walked around to stand in front of the girl, standing there with her arms crossed, watching the girl die. She didn’t last very long; a minute, maybe a little more, of gradually tapering-off struggle, and then a last effort, as she seemed to wake up just as she was about to nod away, pulling hard... and then she slumped, still, her head hanging forward, her mouth open, slack, her eyes half open and rolled up in her head. Grace just stood there; she was still standing there, watching, when the shutter rolled back down over the glass, leaving the other nine girls sitting there in the dark. The door opened, and Charlotte motioned them out, and out they went. The four women who had come together were animatedly talking again, heads together as they walked down the hallway; the other black girl and her asian friend were holding each other’s hands, walking in silence. The girl in denim was transformed; her posture was straight, her eyes glowed. She looked like she’d gotten an infusion of cocaine-laced tiger blood; she practically bounced down the hallway. Leah looked over at Shelly, who looked back, her grin a little shaky. “Wow,” said Shelly. “Yeah,” said Leah. “I don’t think I want to do that again,” Shelly said, looking away. I do, thought Leah. Soon. “I know what you mean,” she said, and then, “I’m horny as fuck, though.” Shelly giggled, looking very naughty. “I know!” she put her hand over her mouth as she giggled again. “What is up with that?” “I don’t know,” said Leah, “But let’s go get laid.” They did. And Shelly, as far as Leah knew, never went back; but Leah did. It was a month before she went back again, and watched a young woman who had looked, in the waiting room, like she’d come straight from a law office, as she writhed her life out in the high-backed chair; after that, it had been a couple of weeks, and a very slight Japanese girl, whom she’d talked to briefly in the waiting room; the girl had come here on her vacation, specifically to do this. She’d clearly gotten her money’s worth. She watched the awkward redhead die at some point, and not that long ago she’d finally seen the denim girl, the one who was so charged afterward, be permanently drained. Extracted, from that pretty, dark-haired, long-limbed body that looked nothing like what it did under that denim armor. Leah was coming back every week, these days, and she was honestly starting to wonder if something was wrong with her; she wasn’t sure she wanted to get picked, exactly, but she had to wonder why nobody had picked her. So she was trying stuff... the body oil, the dance, the big smile. Each time wondering why it hadn’t worked, wondering if she wished it had. When the music stopped, she flipped her hair back out of her face, pulling it back as the shutter came down. She resisted the urge to put her clothes back on, though it was almost routine at this point. Instead, she waited, listening for the click-click-click of footsteps coming up the hallway. Sometimes they went up the other hallway, and she could start to get dressed as soon as she heard them, faint and echoing; other times they came up this hallway, and her heart leapt up into her throat, her body freezing as she listened to them getting closer. They came up her hallway tonight, and she felt that familiar tightening in her chest, that particular sensation of dread and hope, that instant she’d come to cherish, to live for, to look forward to all week. She squared her shoulders, and lifted her chin, and faced the door. The footsteps stopped, her doorknob turned, her eyes went wide as it swung open. “Hello, Leah,” said Grace, “Today’s your lucky day. Let’s get you out of that, shall we?” Report to moderator Logged Story Index