"another day" By robblu (https://pastebin.com/u/robblu) URL: https://pastebin.com/ryznnfnx Created on: Thursday 25th of July 2019 07:48:35 PM CDT Retrieved on: Saturday 31 of October 2020 03:08:19 AM UTC Another Day. (story) (tags: prostitution) « on: January 05, 2015, 11:13:02 AM » ReplyQuote Another improv. I've learned that I write better without planning ahead or working things out. Does anyone else find that they work better that way? This turned out waayy different than I started out thinking it would go. ------ ".... And then he just dresses up and leaves! Just like that! mean seriously he's rich! And a man! Obviously he could have afforded it." Natalie just politely listened to her friend's seemingly endless whining. It was rather endearing really. Despite the short time they had known each other Natalie considered her a good friend, if somewhat like a kid she had to nurture some sense into. "...I mean you don't have to put much effort into it. He could have just strangled me while fucking. Doesn't he know my cunt would have totally tightened up while dying?" Assuming that Barbara, her friend's name, was done with her rather odd rant Natalie finally spoke up. "Maybe he just didn't want to snuff you Babs, not everyone really enjoys that. You're gonna find that most customers don't. Everyone thinks they're going to show up and die fabulous , but it doesn't go that way. You could be here for years, some girls nearly make it to retirement age. " Barbara looked absolutely horrified at the very thought of living to retire. "Don't worry, naturally it's pretty random but it averages out to a bit over a year normally. And we've still never quite had a girl have to retire because of age. Besides think about it, even nowadays if people were constantly showing up and snuffing girls we couldn't possibly keep up." Natalie smiled at her friend. Although somewhat mollified Barbara was clearly still a little miffed. "Fine, you're right. But a girl can hope." Natalie and Barbara were both working as terminal prostitutes. With the prevalence of easy cloning and parthenogenesis life was cheap and disposable finally, much to the general public's great pleasure. Of course both procedures only produce women (although far more complicated and expensive male cloning could be practiced if needed) so men only resulted from rarer natural births, but most people preferred it that way anyways. Snuff was common in all fields of entertainment and recreation, this high turnover rate kept the population more youthful. Terminal prostitution was the new norm in the sex industry. Women sold their bodies as normal, but now there were two prices. The baseline cheaper cost for sex, and a higher cost that buys you the right to kill the girl in the process. Natalie had been doing the job for the past year and a half, whereas Barbara had only started a bit over a month ago. "Ooh, looks like you've got another customer." Barbara pointed at a woman heading straight for Natalie. The woman in question was a tiny, unimpressive looking thing. Barely five feet tall, with a small stature, and her hair done in a short pixie cut. Except for her size she had a rather androgynous appearance, if she wanted she could probably pass for a young boy. Thankfully though, at least in Natalie's opinion, she didn't. She could probably pass through any crowd without a single soul noticing. Barbara probably did only because the girls trained themselves to always see a customer approach. Her clothing was the most telling feature about her; a scruffy poorly maintained jacket and scarf with roughly scuffed jeans. That, along with a total lack of makeup, did not point to financial prosperity. "Doesn't look like she could afford full service. Hell, I don't see how she could pay at all dressed like that. Maybe she's not buying for herself." Natalie pondered aloud. The girls just watched until the woman finally reached them. "I'd like to hire you out. You know, snuff contract." She addressed Natalie. Rather awkwardly, not because she seemed nervous though, more she just didn't know how this worked. "Are you sure you can afford that? It costs a lot more than a normal contract." Natalie decided to voice her concerns straight out even though it might deter the customer. "Yeah, of course I know that. I've been saving up for you for months." The customer pulled out the standard electronic chip, often called a pay chit, and held it out. Natalie inserted it into the innocuous receiver she kept on her and scanned it. She was shocked to see the girl was correct, she really had the money. "All right then, I guess you've bought yourself a girl." Natalie struck a sexy pose for her customer. Barbara giggled. "I guess this is it for us. Enjoy yourself babe." She leaned up to her friends ear and whispered "Not exactly the kind of customer a girl dreams about, but hey; at least you get a snuff job in your prime." Natalie hugged her. "Bye Babs. You keep on shooting for the stars." The customer began leading her off. --- They soon arrived at a worn looking old two seat car. The woman let her into the passenger seat and then got in herself. Shortly they were driving through the city streets. Natalie found herself pondering her situation. This was it, she wasn't going any farther, doing any more jobs. It wasn't frightening or disappointing. Just... it. She couldn't think of anything to sum it up. Natalie had never possessed any particular initiative. She'd slipped right into terminal prostitution after reaching adulthood (well there was a short stint in a service job like so many people do, but that hardly counts). It wasn't that she didn't enjoy it, the work was definite fun, it was more that she had no passion. She figured in the past people must have wanted to get somewhere, find a goal, chase it, even if that was just climbing a dull grey corporate ladder. Whereas all she herself had done was walk right towards her death without any real work or goal in between. Acedia. It was a very old word she'd once learned. Supposedly if you didn't find any real meaning in life, anything to make or do, you'd lose focus and stop trying. Apparently the idea came from monks out in the wilderness, with nothing of any real meaning to be done day in and day out they couldn't stay motivated and simply withered away. Natalie figured that with everything so peaceful, so easy, the whole world might be suffering a little acedia. Maybe not everyone, there were still careers to pursue, goals to achieve. But when having fun and getting snuffed is the order of the day for so many young girls, it seems hard to get motivated about life along the way. Really, maybe it doesn't matter. Why get down about life on the last car ride, that's a pretty fucking bad time to choose. "Why me?" Natalie spoke up, thinking it was a good way to pass the time "You said you were earning up for me for months. Not just to do this. Was there any reason?" "You were the most beautiful. I probably wouldn't have done this at all, but when I saw you, I was really impressed." The girl responded. Ah what the hell. I'm not going to be around to regret this... "I was beautiful... So you decided to kill me for it?" The girl shuffled awkwardly. "Well, yeah. It's pretty normal. You put a price on it." "Does the whole thing seem odd? Most people can get the same sex without killing, it only matters if you've got something special planned. You're spending months of wages on it." "Not really." The girl seemed more confident "It's the same reason people take pride just in owning something, even if you could see it just the same without ever buying it. Like art. You feel pride that it's yours. By snuffing a girl you know you've had the penultimate experience. You've experienced the most intimate moment she can give. That you can give her. Otherwise you both move on and everything gets lost. Snuff is just another way of bonding." Natalie just leaned back in her seat. Not sure if the answer made sense or if maybe she was just crazy. ------ The two arrived at a lower middle class apartment building. The customer turned off the car, but just sat there instead of getting out. "You can go if you want. Refund the chit, I’ll drive you back." "No." Natalie paused. "I have nothing else planned." She continued "There's nothing I really need. Why die five, ten, or fifty years down the line if I don't really want those years? I guess I just wish I had wanted what I've already been given. That I hadn't just sat there figuring I'd find a way to enjoy it tomorrow, and then the next tomorrow, and then you realize you're just wasting tomorrow's." "Ouch." The girl sighed "Y'know I didn't rent you so I could go to bed crying about my life." "I know, and I'm sorry." Natalie paused again. "I have a friend back there. She spends every day hoping someone buys her out. It makes her feel wanted." Natalie seemed to be confused about what she wanted to say "Do you.... Do you think that makes her happy? That maybe I could have just let go and been happy that way too?" The girl chuckled. "One thing even I know is that you can't just decide on having someone else's happiness." After a short pause Natalie thought that they were going to go inside and get started. Instead her customer spoke up. "My name's Llywela, it's Welsh and no one knows how to pronounce it. I drive a street cleaner for a living. I sometimes lack confidence because I'm so short and rarely feel very feminine." Natalie interrupted her. "Uhm, Why tell me all of this?" "Well if it's like I said and I'm going to be sharing the most intimate moment possible with you, then maybe you should know a little about me." The girl, Llywela it seemed, replied. "I'm pretty sure sitting with each other over an honest cup of coffee is more getting to know me than that." "Well then come on up. I'll make you some coffee." And she did. ---End (at least for know) In my head that was originally going to be a fairly straight forward snuff of a prostitute. It just kept spiraling out of control as I typed. The fact my depression has been in a downward slump probably influenced it a little.