The Girl Next Door

"This is kind of complicated, Jule said. "I don't think you'd understand it, hon." She smiled but Doug thought he saw something ominous lurking in her eyes, and shivered involuntarily'

"What's it for?"

"Extracting, separating and collecting."

"Extracting?" Doug felt sweat beading on his brow and the tinge of fear skipping about his insides. "Collecting what?"

"Hmmmn." Jule pursed her lips and cocked her head to one side. "How can I explain this so you'll understand?" She reached to the side of the dolly and withdrew an object, then climbed onto the bed and like before, seated herself astride him.

She showed him the gizmo in her hand. "Know what this is?"

It was tubular, the size of a cucumber with a long, wicked looking needle on one end and a hose that connected it to one of the chrome tanks on the other. "It looks like a big syringe," said Doug. "What are you planning on doing with it?"

"Well, Dougie...do you remember when you asked me what it was we wanted from you?"

"You said you didn't want anything from me."

"Well, no I didn't actually say that. I just let you think..."

"What!" Doug fought to control the trembling that had overtaken his limbs.

"I'm sorry, hon, but I had no choice." She wiped the perspiration from his forehead with her palm. "I've got my orders."

"Orders? Orders from who?"

"Let's just call them my people, shall we?"

Doug swallowed hard and took a deep breath, fighting to keep the terror he felt from echoing in his voice. "What have your people ordered you to do? I mean besides lying to me?"

"Oh, well...just the usual, you know." She held up a fist and snapped three fingers from it one-two-three. "Extraction, separation and collection."

"Are you going to kill me?"

"I certainly don't want to, Doug. But I've never heard of anyone surviving the procedure." Jule smiled down at him and tenderly brushed away the tears that streamed down his cheeks. "Would you like to know how it works?" she asked cheerily. When Doug didn't speak she said, "Oh, sure you do. You men are all so mechanical."

She chattered away for several minutes, explaining how the huge syringe must be plunged into the chest of the chosen donor - she like to think of her subjects as donors rather than victims. "Sounds nicer, doesn't it?" After the needle was properly seated, the machinery inside the first tank would be switched on. "See that little lever there, Doug?" The donor's bodily fluids would be extracted into the first tank where certain elements would be separated and siphoned off into the second tank. "That one's just for storage, hon." When the process was completed and all necessary components had been collected, the residue liquid would be returned to the donor.

Jule wrapped up on a bright note. "And that's all there is to it."

Doug wanted to strangle the nubile beauty perched on his belly but couldn't move either hand more than an inch from the bedposts. Through gritted teeth he asked, "What ends up in the storage tank?"

"Just what we need...various compounds and minerals."

"But why me?" Doug wailed. "I'd make a shitty donor. I'm pushing fifty and twenty pounds overweight. I'm a heavy smoker, for Chrissake."

"But don't you see, Dougie?" she asked sweetly. "You're the perfect donor. Just the right natural elements and toxic substances and all in the exact amounts. They're all right in here." She patted his chest lovingly. "That's why we wanted you so badly."

His voice barely a whisper now, Doug croaked, "What will you do with it?"

"Share it with my people," she said. "We need it, hon. The survival of our own bodies depends on it." Jule peered down at him. "Has any of this sunk in, Doug?"

"You'll never get away with it!" Doug snarled with renewed energy. "Don't you think someone's gonna wonder how I ended up dead and looking like a dry leaf?"

"Oh, you silly." Jule reached over and tousled his hair. "Don't you think we've thought of that? There won't be much of you left after the fire...Say that reminds me. Where did you leave that lottery ticket?"

When Doug didn't answer, she hopped out of bed and searched through the pockets of his clothing. "Ah. Here it is."

"You're keeping the money too? You greedy..."

"Not me, lover. What use would I have of money? This is for Lucy. After all..."

She climbed back on top of him and rubbed her pussy against his pubic bone. "How about it, Doug? Want to go out with a bang?"

Tears splattered the pillow as he shook his head.

"Suit yourself, hon. I've only got time for a quickie, anyway."

Jule held the big syringe before her face and adjusted a small dial on the tube. Watching this, Doug finally broke down.

"Why me?" he sobbed. "I've never done anything to hurt anybody."

"I've already told you why."

"You lied to me," he hissed. "You lied!"

"Come on Doug...Did you really think a girl who looks like me would fuck you for pleasure? Puh-leeze."

"You're not the girl next door! You're some kind of psycho bitch from hell!"

"Well, what did you expect? Huh? A younger, prettier, big-titted version of your wife? Did you want me to be Lucy?"

"Don't even dare to say her name, you horrid cunt!"

She drew back and slapped him. Hard. The crack sounded like a pistol shot next to his ear and Doug's face stung as though he'd been attacked by a swarm of hornets rather than one dainty hand.

"Jesus!" he screamed in pain.

"Oh, I'm sorry, hon," Jule said softly. "I shouldn't have done that. I just got too deep in the character, I guess. I'm not normally offended by that word. Can you ever forgive me?"

"Does it matter?"

"No, I guess it doesn't. Say...would you like a last cigarette?"

"I'm trying to cut down."

"Well good for...Oh!" Amazed, Doug watched the color rise in her cheeks. "I'm so silly," she said. "You're being ironic aren't you?"

Doug closed his eyes and tried to will his mind into a higher gear. Was there any way to save himself? Who was Jule? What was she? She blushed, so she could feel embarrassment. She could feel pleasure. Could she feel sorrow? Regret? Guilt? Was it possible? Could there be within that awesome body some semblance of a human heart?

"Ready, Doug?"

He opened his eyes. Jule wet a finger and dabbed a small, moist spot on his chest. "Don't want to miss and have to do it again, do we?" She pressed her left hand flat against the mattress for balance and raised her right high above her head. Doug looked up in horror at the delicate fingers wrapped tightly around the instrument of his death. The long, ugly needle was pointed straight at his pounding heart. There was nothing left to do but beg for his life.

"No! Jule please! Don't kill me, Jule...I'm begging you!"

Her brow knitted in a quizzical look. Am I getting through to her?

"You don't have to do this, Jule. Please!" Tears streamed down Doug Jenkins' eyes and fear constricted his throat. He sucked a gulp of air and struggled to be heard. "Don't do it, Jule! Don't kill me! Please! I'll do anything...give you anything..."

Doug's mouth was so dry he could barely feel his tongue. With a mighty effort he croaked out his final plea.

"I love you, Jule!"

"You do?" she said. "That's so sweet."

Doug lost consciousness as soon as the needle penetrated his left ventricle. Jule flicked the switch on her chrome machinery and a low, thrumming sound filled the room. She looked down at Doug Jenkins and said, "Oh, you people."

the end