"Sign here, please." said the attendant in a monotone voice.
Reduction booths had become all the rage, recently. The ads promised a viscious cycle of sexual pleasure while your body is made useful to humanity, before being disposed at the end of your pre agreed term.
The attendant gave our protagonist a keycard, and pointed down a hallway. The hall smelled like sex and scat.
"This is promising." the 19 year old thought aloud.
"1, 2, 3…" she counted the numbers, and made it to number 12. She stuck her card in the slot, and the door opened. She entered the 2x2 meter room, which immediately closed behind her.
"Welcome to the Farmex™ centre. Please take off all clothes, and put them in the red recepticle along with any personal property." sounded a warm voice that belonged to an older woman over a speaker.
As she began taking off her clothes, the speaker resumed it's prerecorded tutorial.
"If you need to relieve yourself, feel free to do so, as this booth is steriled between uses."
She pondered this for a second, and as she put her neatly folded clothes in the red indent in the corner of the room, and squat over it to take a leak.
While she emptied her bladder, the speaker continued.
"During registration, you selected the ten year service option. This is what you can expect:
After processing, you will be taking to a de-education facility, before being surgically modified and put into service. Your de-education does not count towards your service time. We hope you enjoy your life for Farmex.
Please get on your hands and knees, putting your hands in the small holes near the red recepticle, and your legs in the the indentations near the door."
She obeyed. Each of her four limbs being locked in place as they touched their intended position. Her head right above the indent containing her piss soaked clothes, phone, and wallet.
She got to take a good look as a hatch opened, and her everything fell into an incinerator.
Now she waited.
This is a draft of a beginning. Do you guys and galls think this has potential?
Well I for one am keen to see where it goes!
I wouldn't mind more description of the girl, although maybe you plan to add details as you go along.
It seems nicely written to me, flows nicely and nothing jarred, apart from :>She entered the 2x2 meter room, which immediately closed behind her.
closed? (Yeah I know you said it's just a draft, I'll shut up now lol).
A disinterested attendant said "Booth 12, down the hall.", as he handed Liz a keycard.
She walked down the narrow corridor, and inhaled the stink of piss and shit eagerly. She'd done her research. She'd had a year and a little's worth of experience with the real world, and wasn't impressed. Taxes, work, and all of that stuff really didn't tickle her fancy. The things she'd heard about Farmex, on the other hand?
She came to booth twelve, and scanned the card.
The door opened into a very neat little dressing room with a rather odd floor, and a few hygienic utensils hanging from the ceiling. she walked in, and the door closed behind her. She turned around to look, but only saw a slightly discolored panel.
"I guess that was the point of no return."
Leaning back against the door, she took stock of the little pod she found herself in.
The room was two meters by two meters, perfectly white, with the middle thirty centimeters paralel to the door being being bright red, and lined by black troughs about twenty centimeters wide and deep.
There was a mirror on the wall oposite her, with an electric trimmer dangling from in front of her. She got up to take a closer look when an unseen speaker sprang to life, and spoke to her in a gentle young woman's voice.
"Welcome to Farmex™. Please remove all clothes and jewelry, and put them on the red area of the floor."
"And so it begins." Liz thought aloud.
She kicked off her black leather boots, and lifted her yellow dress over her head, revealing she had't been wearing underwear. She crumpled her clothes in the corner of the red area, and took a look at herself in the mirror.
She was many things, but humble wasn't one of them. She was smokin', and she knew it. Porcelain skin, medium length red curly hair, green eyes, and pale lips.
Complimenting her beautifull face were perfect B cup breasts, and a vagina covered in red fuzz.
Just the thought of what she was doing got her juices flowing (quite literally), but before she could endulge herself the speaker came back to life.
"Please, use the trimmer in front of you to shave your head and pubic."
This came as a surprise, but she didn't mind.
She said as she moved to the mirror, and began work on her head, crotch, and arm pits. The occassional vibration doing nothing to slow the now steady flow of juices.
Just as she finished up trimming herself, she could no longer resist the urge, and ran her left hand across her soaking cunt. Her middle finger just barely flicking the inside of her asshole as she slowly and deliberately ran her flat palm across her genitals, emerging from between her legs, and across her clitoris.
She dropped down on the floor, and rubbed her drenched left hand dry on the back of her smooth head while her right hand went to work.
She moaned in pleasure while she used her ten years worth of masturbation experience to coaxe herself to a brilliant orgasm.
She came closer and closer and clo- and "OOOOOOHHHHHHHH FUUUUUUCCCCKKKK!" rattled from her as she rode her orgasm into yesterweek.
As she got up, she noticed she's left a brilliant little pool of her own juices, And as soon as she was upright she the speaker resumed it's lecture.
"Please get on your hands and knees, placing your feet on the red lights, your knees on the yellow, and your hands on the green."
Inside the back troughs, lights had appeared at points that looked arbitrary.
Liz sheepishly obeyed, and the second all six points were touched; restraining cuffs shot out from the lining of the trough to lock her wrists, knees, and legs in place.
As soon as she was locked, the red panel beneath her gave way, and her three articles of clothing fell into what looked like the void, sounded like water, and smelled of scat and sex.
The speaker once again gave output. But this time the pleasant voice guiding her in was replaced with a less perfect, presumably live voice of a middle aged man.
"LIZ BECKER, AGE 19, Weight of 60 kilograms to the gram, you are hereby stripped of your name, and are now Farmex™ DU-7687. Since you came in at the biggining of the day, you'll be waiting about 12 hours before our staff come get you.
Since entering the pre-processing room you have spoken 15 words and had one self induced orgasm. Neither if those are allowed. You could't have known that, so you'll only receive a mild punishment. You will NOT break these rules again. Enjoy your wait, and get to liking that smell, FDU-7687."
A few seconds after the unknown finished his monologue, the lights went out, and three streams of ice cold water began gently pouring over her back.
A deep shuddering exhalation as reflex to the cold accompanied a massive, shit eating grin.
"This is exaxtly what I wanted", thought FDU-7687.
This is far closer to what I had in mind. I was rushed typing that first draft.
I took out the mention of the planned overarching plot, because I think it was premature. The title alone is enough.
Well, I've no idea what this is about. Is it some kind of scat story?
Also, if I'm honest, I liked the first version better. It seems to flow better, be less forced. I guess there's a fine line between 'rushed' and spontaneous.
The story is interesting though, looking forward to seeing where this goes.
FDU-7687 (reffered to as "Seven" outside of dialogue for the sake of it not being painfull to read) was shuddering heavily. It had been twelve hours, and the trickle of water had been very literal torture. Her back had stung like hell, but was now feeling quite numb.
At first, she didn't understand why there was an endless void of kack beneath her, but a few hours and a bodily function or two later she certainly did.
She'd routinely heard grunts and screams over the past half hour, always getting closer, and allways a different voice screaming.
Ten women, and one man (if her count was correct). "Must have been the people admitted before me." she thought to herself.
A few minutes after #11 had stopped, the lights came back on. She was stunned a little by the sudden return of her sight, but snapped back to reality when the hatch below her closed and the door opened.
She looked back, and saw a young woman enter. She had chocolate skin, which contrasted heavily against the pristine baby blue scrubs she was wearing. If it weren't for the pistol on her hip and the toolbox she put down, she could easily fit in at any hospital.
In a surprisingly deep, but very sweet voice the woman asked.
"How's your back? Numb, right?"
"Y-" Seven had tried to answer, but the woman quickly shushed her.
"No talking, honey. Just nod yes or no."
Seven nodded eagerly.
She was enjoying this.
"Good. You'll be grateful, because I've got some bad news. See, it says here that you rubbed one out and spoke a couple sentances earlier today. You know, I respect that; I do. But that's a big no-no here. Soo…"
The attendant opened the toolbox and took out three things that looked like batons, but had the numbers 6, 7, and 8 on their ends, respectively. She put them on the floor right between Seven's arms, where they were looked at curiously.
"I really am very sorry, but my boss told me I can't give you anything for these, and they'll hurt."
The attendant pressed a button on the bottom of each, and they quickly began to glow white. A horrified look took the pale thing's face as the attendant leaned outside the door and the water stopped.
She'd liked what the brochure said, but this sure as shit wasn't on it.
"FDU-7687. You will NOT speak. EVER." The attendant said very harshly.
Seven nodded timidly.
Immediately the attendant went back to missus Nice Girl
"Aww, don't worry, sweety. You'll learn really quicly, and if you don't, they can help you with that."
The attendand rubbed Seven's butt, dipping a gloved finger into her vaginal opening. Seven instinctively leaned into it.
"Ts, Tss; Not yet. If you're a good girl now, I'll give you a reward when we're done here."
The attendant picked up the 7 iron. She held it a few centimeters away from Seven's back, right between her shoulders.
"You can scream, just remember, no words."
The attendant pushed down HARD, and the smell of a barbecue filled the little room.
"FUU-AAAH" Seven managed to correct herself.
After ten seconds, the attendant pulled off the iron, and put it back in front of Seven so she could see the skin that stuck to it evaporate.
"Good girl. Keep it up, and I'll give you that reward."
The attendant reached under Seven with her left arm, and gave her clitoris a little rub.
this repeated with the 6 and 8, and then the 7 again. each time giving her a litte bit more stimulation. By the end Seven was edged out hard, and would give her ovaries to cum.
"FDU-7687, would you like your reward, now?"
Seven nodded rather eagerly.
The attendant came around to the front, holding her left had behind her back.
"This is the last thing that'll hurt, today. I promise."
The attendant got down on her knees in fron of Seven, and lifted her head a litte by the chin.
"This won't be as bad as the branding, don't worry."
She reached around, and with her left hand she put some odd pliers on Seven's nose and gave them a rather hard squeeze. When she pulled back, there was some blood dripping on the floor, and Seven had a five centimeter metal ring resting on her lips.
"Now, I'll just give you a little shot, and you'll be ready for transport, FDU-7687."
The attendant quickly collected her things, and after she gave Seven an inction in the butt and a flick of her clit, she left, and the door closed.
She grunted in frustration and pain when the light went out, and the trickle of water came back.
What had been a mild discomfort before, was now a suicide provoking pain; With her hands and legs tied, all she could do was scream like a pig getting butchered live, and wait for help she knew damn well would never come.
"This is what I wanted." she muttered under her breath.
This chapter doesn't really have much going for it, I'll admit. It's mediocre at best, but she had to move.
The room came back to life, as the attendant came back into Seven's personal little bubble.
"Good news. The truck's here to take you and your fellows to Farmex™ lot 9."
The attendant put a rather complicated ball gag, blindfold, headphone combination on Seven, and tightened it extremely securely. Seven heard a faint buzz, but could still hear the attendant quite clearly.
the attendant pulled Seven's arms out of their recepticles, and cuffed her behind her back; taking away her support, and making her lie on her face for a few seconds while her legs were released.
Seven had some trouble getting up, and a lot of trouble staying upright; but she did. Somehow.
The attendant hooked a rope into her nose ring, and then lead the blinded girl by only the tugs on her nose.
While being lead through lame corridors, Seven began to remenis about why she'd admitted herself to the most extreme reduction program there was.
It's simple: sexual thrill.
In between her discovering porn at 13 and her submitting herself as a volunteer to become property of a dairy company, she'd only had one constant: the "victim" had more fun. And after someone leaked footage of the first person being snuffed after facing a full Farmex™ Reduction and service life, she realized she wanted to be that girl. The next day she came here, bringing only the shoes and dress she was wearing.
As the walk progressed, suddenly the air had gotten rather colder. She could smell the stink of gasoline, and was lead up a rather wobbly ramp into a warm and padded room (probably a truck or a train car).
She was made to sit legs crossed, arms still cuffed and locked on the wall behind her.
A few minutes later, another person was locked next to her, and then another next to them.
After a while, the headphones started playing white noise intercut with random single syllable soundbites from movids. (She only figured that one out when it played "Khaaaaaan" and Darth Vader saying "no" back to back, though.)
As the vehicle bagan to move she realized this would likely be the last time she ever rode a vehicle, and eagerly mumbled "This is what I wanted." into her gag.
look. I know it's not good, but I had to get her moving to where the story proper will take place.
Good story so far, and a lot of potential. We could always use more human livestock stories like this.
The ride was long and uncomfortable. There were stops, here and there. The ground becoming a little colder and damper each time, but aside from that it was always the same.
She was taken off of what she'd deemed to be a train, and tied squatting to a post above a hole in the ground. Then while she did what she thought she was supposed to, her gag would be removed, and a rather generous bottle of water would be forced down her throat. She found it all deliciously degrading, but her peers didn't seem to like it as much (judging from the screams and obsceneties that still made their way past her headphones).
After what must have been two days of travel, and most of the country, she was finally taken off of the train.
A far less gentle attendant pulled her up, and the lead through her nose ring was attached to the cuffs of the reduced in front of her, before her cuffs were attached to that of the one behind her.
An outsider would have seen a guy dressed like he was from a paralel universe where cops were surgeons pulling a train of 20 hunched over females with their hands tied to the face of the one behind them.
After a few minutes of walking, the convoy was dismantled, and Seven's whole sensory deprivation rig was removed in favor of a helmet.
As some generic goon strapped her down into what was seemingly an electric chair, she looked around the tiny room she found herself in.
"They sure do love these." she thought to herself
She barely got a chance to look around the room before a distracted Doc Brown looking guy in the same clothes as all the other staff came in, and sat down at the computer in the otherwise empty room.
"FDU-7687, formerly Liz Decker from Paradise, California? Hi."
Did he get those details wrong on purpose?
"So. I'm going to take your gag out, and let you talk for a bit while I get ready to start. I don't really care what you say, just keep talking."
The… doctor? took out her gag, and sat back down as Seven moved her jaw around a bit. He'd also done something behind her, but she wasn't in a position to care.
"I can talk?"
"For now, yes."
The doctor pressed a button on his computer, and Seven heard a faint hum and began to get just a teeny headache.
"Cool. Just real quick, my name is, or rather was, Liv Becker. Not Decker. And… uhm… Paradise is iiin… uhm… the other county, or country. The really blue one with all the cacti and gambling."
Her headache was getting worse, but that wasn't really bothering her. There was something else wrong.
"Sheee'd actually… what? the part of Paris horses think of when they… duhff… uhm…eat London."
The doctor pressed another button, and the hum got louder. Also, did his face just change? And oh lord the headache she felt like her brain was melting.
"Lon-don? Uuuhhmm. London. They'd at Walmart? Nigh neigh we…"
The doctor shushed her, and began to speak. Seven's eyes rolled back a little, but she was clearly trying to listen. And not piss herself from the unimaginable pain. But mainly listen.
"Well, Liz, here's the thing. When the reduction programs started people didn't like the idea of using thinking, talking, walking humans to replace the extinct species. Cows went didi mau, so we needed something else that ate just about whatever we fed it AND produced everything…"
the doctor gestured at Seven to say something.
"No, not quite there yet."
the doctor shushed her again, and went back into a slighly disconnected rant.
"Well, we didn't find any. We absolutely needed Humans. But the governments didn't like that, so we created a workaround. A procedure using microwaves to… alter the brain a little, and some good ol' Pavlovian conditioning to repurpose the mind. Take them from person, to something else."
He made eye contact with her, and motioned her to say something. She clearly understood what the gesture meant, but just… couldn't. Nor could she understand a word he'd said.
"To what you now are. Legally and mentally."
He pressed the button again, stopping the hum, but not the headache, and stepped outside carrying her no longer needed gag.
A little while later she heard voices saying nothing getting closer, and she was pulled up by a flunky who lead her out past a girl who was clearly next in line to lose everything that had ever made her a person.
I love this part ! Continue like that please ! :)
More detail in the future please.