Extraction

 

Mindy had always been the gentle one.

The kind of girl who cried during nature commercials. Who stayed late after class to help struggling students with their homework. Who brought homemade cookies to the elderly neighbours and remembered everyone's birthdays with handwritten cards.

Her apartment was filled with rescued plants—the ones the garden centre had given up on—and she'd nursed every single one back to health. That was just who Mindy was. A nurturer. A healer. Someone who saw broken things and couldn't help but try to fix them.

Which was why watching Danny come home with fresh bruises every week was slowly destroying her.

"It's fine, Min," he'd mumble, avoiding her eyes. "Just drop it."

But she couldn't drop it. Not when she heard him crying through the walls at night. Not when she watched her sweet, bright little brother shrink smaller and smaller under Chad Morrison's constant torment.

Three weeks ago, she'd found the grimoire at a dusty estate sale. Three weeks of careful research, of double-checking translations, of making absolutely sure she understood the spell correctly.

The Extraction of Toxicity.

It seemed almost too perfect. Draw out Chad's cruelty through a blowjob. Leave behind a reformed soul—someone who might even become a friend to Danny instead of his tormentor.

There was a warning at the bottom of the page, scrawled in faded red ink: The extracted essence must be expelled. Under no circumstances should it be consumed. Spit, never swallow.

Mindy had nodded solemnly when she read it. That wouldn't be a problem. She found the very concept of Chad repulsive. This was a sacrifice she was making for love.

For Danny, she reminded herself, adjusting her cardigan in Chad's bathroom mirror. You can do this. One uncomfortable experience, and your brother gets his life back.

Her reflection stared back: soft brown hair in a practical ponytail, minimal makeup because she'd never quite figured out contouring, the kind of wholesome face that got called "sweet" instead of "pretty." She was twenty-two and still got carded everywhere because she looked like someone's innocent younger sister.

Deep breath. You've got this.

---

Chad's bedroom smelled like male body spray and entitlement.

"Knew you'd come crawling eventually," he said, leaning against his headboard with that insufferable smirk. Broad shoulders, sharp jaw, the kind of casual athleticism that came from years of shoving smaller kids into lockers. "All the goody-two-shoes types want a taste of the bad boy eventually."

Mindy's stomach churned with disgust, but she forced herself forward. For Danny. For Danny. For Danny.

"Just... please don't talk," she whispered, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. She'd never done anything like this before. Never even thought about it.

But Danny needed her.

She knelt between his legs with shaking hands, and even through her revulsion, she couldn't help but notice—the universe had been cruelly generous to Chad Morrison. His cock was thick and intimidating, already hard from watching her nervous approach.

Of course bullies get everything, she thought sadly. It's not fair.

"That's it, good girl," Chad groaned as her lips—hesitant, unpracticed—wrapped around him. "See? This is where you belong. On your knees for—fuck—"

Mindy felt the sigils warming against her thighs. The spell was activating. She could taste it now—something dark and acrid threading through his arousal. His essence. His cruelty. His power.

She worked mechanically, trying not to think about what she was doing, focusing instead on the purpose. Each movement pulled more of that toxic darkness from him, concentrating it, preparing it for expulsion.

Almost done, she told herself. Almost done, and then Danny will be safe forever.

Chad's hands fisted in her hair. "Holy shit... what are you... what's happening..."

His cock pulsed. Swelled. And Mindy braced herself, remembering the grimoire's warning—

He came with a guttural moan, flooding her mouth with thick heat that tasted like nothing she'd ever experienced. It was bitter and sweet simultaneously, crackling with dark energy, and—

Oh.

Mindy's eyes flew wide.

It was... it was delicious.

The essence sliding across her tongue whispered to her in a language older than words. It tasted like confidence. Like never apologising. Like being the one who took instead of the one who gave. Like every time she'd swallowed her own needs for someone else, every time she'd smiled when she wanted to scream, every time she'd been good when good got her nothing—

Spit it out, the warning echoed. Spit it out spit it out—

But why should she?

Why should Mindy always be the one who sacrificed? The one who gave and gave until there was nothing left? The one who made herself small so others could be comfortable?

She swallowed.

"Mmmmmh..." The moan escaped before she could stop it—low, hungry, satisfied. Her throat worked greedily, and she found herself sucking harder, demanding more, chasing every last drop. "Mmmmmh... more..."

"What the..." Chad's voice cracked, suddenly uncertain. "I feel... weird..."

Mindy didn't hear him. She was too busy savouring the warmth spreading from her stomach through her entire body, too busy feeling something new and dangerous unfurling in her chest.

No, whispered a small, frightened voice—her voice, the real Mindy. This is wrong. The warning—you have to fight it—

But that voice was getting quieter. Smaller.

Like prey.

---

The first change was her posture.

Mindy had always stood with her shoulders slightly hunched, taking up as little space as possible. Now she felt her spine straightening, her chin lifting, her body arranging itself into something that demanded attention rather than avoided it.

"What's... what's happening to me?" Chad whimpered from the bed—actually whimpered, his eyes wide and lost.

She ignored him, turning to catch her reflection in his closet mirror.

"Oh..."

Her hair was shifting. The mousy brown lightened strand by strand—honey, gold, platinum—until it fell past her shoulders in sleek, silky waves that caught the light like something from a shampoo commercial.

Her face was changing too. Not dramatically, but refiningly. Cheekbones sharpening just enough to catch shadows. Lips filling into a perfect pout. Her eyes brightened from muddy hazel to piercing blue, cold and calculating where they'd once been warm.

"Ooooh... yes..." She ran her hands down her body, feeling it tighten and tone beneath her touch. Not dramatically curvy—something leaner, meaner. A cheerleader's body. A mean girl's body. The kind of physique that came from Pilates and spite.

Her waist nipped inward. Her stomach went flat and tight. Her legs lengthened, her ass lifted into a pert, perfect peach—not exaggerated, just flawless.

Her breasts swelled gently against her bra—not huge, but perky and round, filling out to a perfect C cup that suited her new frame exactly. The kind of tits that looked incredible in a tight top but didn't scream for attention.

Subtle, the essence whispered. Powerful women don't need to advertise. They make others come to them.

She examined her new reflection and smiled—a slow, knowing smile that had never touched Mindy's face before.

Mindy.

Even the name felt wrong now. Too soft. Too sweet. Too... forgettable.

"Please..." Chad's voice cracked. He was curled on the bed, looking small and confused—the same way Danny looked after their encounters. "Please, I don't understand..."

The woman who used to be Mindy turned to face him, and something cold and calculated clicked into place behind her eyes.

He's pathetic now. Weak. Useless.

Just like...

Just like Danny.

The thought should have horrified her. Instead, it made her smile.

---

"Awww," she cooed, sauntering toward the bed with a new grace in her step—not sexual, but predatory. Like a cat who'd spotted a wounded bird. "Is the big bad bully feeling a little drained?"

She traced a perfectly manicured nail—when had those appeared?—down his cheek, and he actually flinched from her touch.

Power, the essence purred inside her. This is what power feels like. And you've been giving it away your whole pathetic life.

"I came here to help my brother," she heard herself say, but the words twisted into something mocking. "Poor little Danny. Getting pushed around by a big mean bully like you."

Chad's eyes widened with desperate recognition. "M-Mindy? But you... you're..."

"Better," she finished, examining her nails with practiced disinterest. "I'm better now, Chad. Thanks to you."

The transformation was complete. She could feel it settling into her bones—not the crude, obvious cruelty that Chad had wielded like a club. No. This was something far more refined.

Toxic femininity.

The kind of pretty that made other girls feel ugly. The kind of confidence that made everyone else feel small. The kind of cruelty that smiled sweetly while it ruined you—and made you thank her for the privilege.

"You know what's funny?" She perched on the edge of his bed, crossing her legs elegantly. "I spent three weeks planning how to save Danny from you. Three weeks of research and preparation and sacrifice."

She leaned close, her voice dropping to a whisper.

"But now I understand. Danny doesn't need saving from bullies." Her smile was sharp enough to cut glass. "He needs to learn that this world has a hierarchy. And I'm going to be the one to teach him."

Chad started to cry.

She found it boring.

---

She found Danny in his room, hunched over his homework like always. Textbooks spread across his desk, pencil clutched in nervous fingers, shoulders curled inward like he was trying to disappear.

Pathetic, she thought, and felt nothing but cold satisfaction.

"Hey, little brother."

He looked up—and she watched confusion, recognition, and fear flicker across his face in rapid succession. "...Mindy? You look... different. Did you do something with your—"

"Mindy was weak." She leaned against his doorframe, examining her nails with an expression of perfect boredom. "Mindy was a pushover who let everyone walk all over her because she was too nice to fight back. Mindy spent her whole life taking care of you while you did nothing but take and take and take."

Danny's face crumpled. "What? Min, I don't... I don't understand. What happened—"

"What happened is that I woke up."

She pushed off the doorframe and glided into his room, and she noticed with cold pleasure how he shrank back in his chair. Good. He was learning already.

"You know what I realised tonight, Danny?" She picked up one of his textbooks, flipping through it with disinterest before letting it drop carelessly to the floor. "I realised that I've wasted years of my life being your protector. Your safety net. Your emotional support sister."

"Mindy, you're scaring me—"

"And what did I get for it?" She continued as if he hadn't spoken, circling his chair like a shark. "Nothing. No gratitude. No appreciation. Just more need. More weakness for me to carry."

She stopped behind him, placing her hands on his shoulders—and felt him tremble.

Delicious.

"Here's how things are going to work from now on," she said, her voice sweet as poisoned honey. "You're going to do my laundry. My dishes. My errands. When I tell you to do something, you're going to say 'yes' and nothing else."

"But... but Chad—"

"Chad is done." She laughed—a bright, cruel sound that echoed nothing of the gentle Mindy he'd known. "I drained him dry, baby brother. There's nothing left but a sad little boy who'll probably cry himself to sleep for the next month. But don't worry..."

She leaned down, her lips brushing his ear, her new perfume surrounding him like a cage.

"...I'll be so much worse than Chad ever was. Because Chad was obvious. Chad was stupid. But me? I'm going to take you apart piece by piece, and you're going to thank me for it. Because that's what good little brothers do."

She straightened up, patting his head like he was a particularly dim dog.

"I'm going to go take a bath. When I come out, I expect my room to be cleaned and my clothes laid out for tomorrow. Something cute—I'm thinking that sundress Mom bought me that I never wore because I thought it was too attention-seeking."

She paused at the doorway, glancing back over her shoulder with a smile that showed too many teeth.

"Oh, and Danny? If you're even thinking about telling Mom and Dad..."

Her eyes glittered with something ancient and cold.

"Just remember—who are they going to believe? Their sweet, perfect daughter? Or their weird little son who's clearly going through something?"

She blew him a mocking kiss.

"See you in an hour, loser. Don't disappoint me."

---

Later that night, she stood in front of her bathroom mirror, running a brush through her perfect blonde hair. Her old clothes were already in a garbage bag—too frumpy, too kind, too much like the girl she used to be.

Tomorrow, she'd go shopping. Build a new wardrobe. Start crafting the perfect image of the girl everyone wanted to be and everyone was afraid of.

I was going to save him, a tiny voice whispered from somewhere deep inside. I loved him. I wanted to protect him—

She smiled at her reflection, and the voice went quiet.

"Silly Mindy," she murmured, watching her perfect lips form the words. "Don't you know? Nice girls finish last."

She set down the brush and admired herself—the sharp cheekbones, the knowing eyes, the body that was a weapon waiting to be deployed.

This is who you were always meant to be.

Downstairs, she heard Danny moving around, cleaning her room like she'd ordered. Good boy.

The bully was dead.

Long live the queen.