Cedar Station

2.1. Investments and Improvements

The closing had gone well. The sellers had counted and then accepted the hard cash payment happily. Arrangements were agreed upon by which they could fully receive it and without either party drawing the attention of the Federal Government. He told them he was thinking of running an antique shop at the location, they probably assumed it would be a money laundering front and that was as good a cover for his cover as any.

Bradley was a decent cook, and he often treated Brittany and her mom to the first health-wise, home-cooked meals that either had eaten in years. She came home from work one afternoon to find mushroom and potato chowder heating on the stove. Bradley was sitting on a stool at the kitchen counter and glancing at his laptop. With childlike playfulness, she tip-toed up to the pot and sneaked a spoonful to her lips, then smiled at him and stuck her tongue out.

Brittany hadn't shown any properties today. She had forgone her typical business casual and he couldn't help admiring the way she filled out her breezy yellow dress with its nice floral patterns. Moreover, he knew that deep within her, at that very moment, was a microscopic mass of cells. It was making itself at home in her uterus and her entire body would soon change and give itself over to the nurturing and development of the new life. As he imagined her coming transformations, Bradley rose from his seat and glided towards her, closing her in his arms and kissing her warmly on the neck before checking the chowder and preparing to serve it.

"How was work?" he asked.

"Wonderful! Examined a few of the new properties, I already have some potential buyers lined up, looked into options for expanding the business. Now that you've come in as a silent partner and loaned me the use of your place as office space, I really do think that I can look for a couple of interns to help with the increased workload we're expecting!"

She paused to glance around, and lowered her voice conspiratorially,

"A couple of... young, attractive, highly-fertile interns."

Bradley smiled at her. He took one of the bowls and brought it into the living room, walking around where Brittany's mom was planted and placing it on a folding table beside her.

"Watch out, Ms. Kohl, it's hot."

Melanie Kohl blinked her bloodshot eyes, grunted indifferently, and looked over at the meal. She pressed the remote that controlled her Lay-Z-Boy, brought her corpulent husk into a sitting position, and snuffed out her cigarette into one of the empty beer bottles. Bradley nodded and left the room without comment.

That was an improvement over her earlier interactions with him. She had greeted him with a burning death glare on his first day at the house. She used to screech like a cat beneath a rocking chair whenever he stepped in front of her seat and whatever shitcom she was watching on the TV. She had initially dismissed out of hand the "hippy liberal vegan crap" he tried to serve her, even though his cooking was almost never vegan and not conspicuously vegetarian. Melanie Kohl was in short a very unhappy woman, one deeply unsatisfied with where her life had gone in the three-score years she had spent upon the Earth.

On the other hand, she had stopped smoking and drinking quite so much. She was out of her chair or mobility scooter and back on her feet more often these days, and seemed to take more interest in how much and what type of food she was eating. She had even agreed to use the high-fidelity headphones he had given her, rather than running the speakers so loud that you could literally hear blare of the television while sitting in her driveway. Brittany had been elated at that development, and she relished the quietness in the kitchen as they ate their meal together.

"Speaking of work," he said between bites. "I found a good deal on a flatbed truck not too far from here, which should help out a lot now that we're also in the renovation business. If you're game for a road-trip, we can pick it up today!"

Bradley flipped around the laptop and showed her the pictures from the ad, and Brittany gave a sour expression as she looked at it.

"Eh? Yeah, I can handle a drive, you betcha! In fact, I think I could use it as a way of burning off all the excess energy I seem to have these days."

"Very well. Finish up your chowder and I'll pour some more in a crock for the road."

2.2. "He can do it, she can help."

The ad said it had still been running good when they parked it in the barn. It had been in the barn for so long that Bradley had to chop down a small tree that had grown in front of where they parked it. Nonetheless, it only seemed to take a visit to the local auto-parts store and just a few hours of work before he had the old jalopy cleaned out, cleaned up, and ready to roll. He told Brittany to grab some starter fluid and to spray it in the carburetor. She did so straight away, only a little surprised at the fact that she somehow knew what "starter fluid" or a "carburetor" was. It was late in the evening when they made it back to the storefront, they carried a sleeping bag up on the roof and made love beneath the stars.

Bradley began hitting up the local hardware and home improvement stores. There was one on the outskirts of town, Michael Mulroney's Construction and Builder's Supply, that suited most of his needs and wasn't too extortionate on price. Highly-solvent though he was, he always seemed to feel the bite whenever he had to deal with the rising cost of construction material. It would almost cost more to renovate these buildings than it would to buy them, though still slightly cheaper than tearing them down and rebuilding from scratch.

"Ok-well-your-truck-will-be-loaded-in-just-a-moment-sir-is-there-anything-else-you-need-today?"

The perky young cashier fired off her question like a machine-gun burst, and Bradly shook his head patiently. He almost told her that the only other thing he needs is for her to hop into the cab and make herself comfortable. Already, his powers were almost enough that he could potentially pull that off. On the other hand, she was probably more than accustomed to being hit on by lecherous customers significantly older than herself. Instead, he opened up his wallet and began thumbing out some 500-dollar bills. He grinned at the look of wonder in her big, bright blue-green eyes.

"I think I'm good, uh," He glanced at the name on her tag, though it wasn't necessary. "Zoe. I'll return tomorrow for the other half of my order. I hope to see you then."

"Yeah-I-hope-to-see-you-too-come-in-some-time-after-lunch-I'll-be-here-all-afternoon-until-we-close-and-maybe-we-can-talk-some-more-when-I'm-off-work!" she beamed. She suddenly scrunched her brow in surprise at just how much she genuinely wanted to see this complete stranger for a second time.

Bradley watched the forklift load several pallets of material onto his newly tuned-up truck. Before pulling out of the loading area, he looked back to see Zoe through the hardware store window, chatting with her coworkers and casting the occasional furtive glance in his direction. He wondered if rumors about him and his purchases were already starting to swirl. Bradley would really prefer to stay unknown for at least a little longer, but he did know how hard that would be in a place as small and insular as Cedar Station.

Zoe's alluring, almost-glowing eyes were still burned into his mind as he drove away. He could barely think straight as he considered them. Bradley had never seen eyes like that before. He had seen bluish-green and greenish-blue, but a perfectly even combination of the two, and so luminescent? Are eyes like that even naturally possible?

And the rest of her hadn't been too bad either. She was a petite girl, though exact height had been hard to tell in those cowboy boots. Her shoulder-length hair was straight and black. Her face was vaguely squared, with prominent cheek-bones and a strong chin. Her khaki pants, loose t-shirt and green work apron didn't reveal much, but he could guess that she had a perfectly average body which was still young enough to show only a few ill-effects of the typical American diet and lifestyle. It was the eyes were what really won it for her.

As soon as he returned home, Bradley fired up his laptop and ran the same checks on her that he had first run on Brittany. Zoe Magiera Klimaszewski (Klim-uh-shev-ski) was her full legal name. A little older than he would have guessed at 22 years, as healthy and well-adjusted as could be expected. Dad travels for work, mom travels for therapy, seems to split her time between her parents home and that of an aunt and cousin. Working part-time at the hardware store through a temp agency, and it wouldn't be hard to convince anyone that she left for a better offer. Friendly and outgoing with a fairly large circle of friends, but currently not involved romantically. He showed his prospect to Brittany and received a highly enthusiastic "go for it!"

It might have been a rash decision, but Bradley doubted he was going to regret it. Zoe, hopefully, was going to pass on those lovely bleen eyes to the children he would give her.

He arrived the next day about half an hour before closing. Zoe clocked out at the end of her shift and the two of them made small-talk as the last of his purchase was loaded. She was now wearing a thin, sporty halter-top and somewhat tighter jeans beneath her apron, not inappropriate for the place and climate, but definitely more revealing than what she had before. Bradley would like to think it was for him, though he knew that it may well be coincidence. He took a deep breath as he began work on his second conquest.

"So... Zoe? You're just a temp worker here, right? I would like to hire a few people to help me with renovations on my property, and you seem like a good fit. It'll be a full time position, free room and board, and I pay well. Would you like a new job, Mrs. Klimaszewski?"

"Oh-its-just-Zoe-or-Zoe-K-since-no-one-can-HEY-YOU-PRONOUNCED-IT-RIGHT-HOW-DID-YOU-DO-THAT-MOST-PEOPLE-"

She was amazed that he could pronounce her name, but didn't bother to ask him how he knew it. He had a plausible answer prepared of course, but that was an obvious sign in his success at temporarily lowering her wariness and perceptive ability.

She continued speaking. Zoe's voice had a high pitch, and she spoke so much and so quickly that she was actually hard to understand. It was the only major turn-off he had noticed so far. Bradley could guess that, like many small-town girls, she was trying to affect a more "cosmopolitan" mode of speaking and simply didn't realize that not everyone from The Big City feels the need to projectile-vomit their words at each other. It was almost amusing in a way, in small doses, though he was going to have to put an end to it ASAP. For the moment, he patiently stood and waited for an ebb in the downpour.

"-so-I'm-thinking-maybe-I-can-visit-your-place-first-and-check-it-out-just-to-make-sure-it's-somewhere-I-want-to-work-uh-would-that-be-okay-with-you?"

"Sure! Hop into the cab and make yourself comfortable."

Somewhere in the recesses of Zoe's mind was still a thought that it wasn't a good idea to ride off alone with a strange man without telling anyone where she was going, but that thought couldn't have any less effect on her actions. She practically bounced into the passenger's seat. He smiled, knowing that his powers would be all the more magnified in the tight confines of the truck. As he pulled out of the parking lot, he held out what looked like a large wallet for her.

"Can you turn off your phone and put it in here, please?"

"Turn off my phone? I never turn off my phone, what if I miss an important notification? Why would you even want me to turn off my phone?"

Bradley choked off a groan of irritation. Because, Zoe, apart from my still-weak psychic abilities, most of the juicy details I've learned about you were provided to me from a dossier created by your government and social media providers, leaked to the Dark Web by a friendly Bulgarian hacker that I keep on retainer, made up of data gathered by that handy little recording/tracking device that you so dutifully never leave unpowered and never allow to stray more than arm's reach away from you. Because I don't want you keeping that line open for anyone else who might care to listen in on what's about to happen.

Brittany had been loathe to part with her phone as well, even after her conversion. It was truly a thing of bewilderment to him. Taking competent, independent women with their own plans and life goals and turning them into obedient breeding slaves? That's one thing. Convincing them to ignore their Darpabook notifications for a few minutes? That requires real subterfuge and persuasion.

[AN: "Telephone: An invention of the devil which abrogates some of the advantages of making a disagreeable person keep his distance." -Ambrose Bierce]

"I have a cochlear implant." he lied easily. "It's a new experimental prototype, smartphones and wifis cause a lot of really bad interference with it."

She hesitated for just a moment, then turned the phone off and placed it in the case. She couldn't see the signal-blocking mylar lining concealed beneath the cloth. Alone at last, thought Bradley.

"Hey, this old flatbed's a straight gasser, isn't it? It kind of reminds me of my dad's old motor-home, though we can't take that on the road anymore. How did you get the papers to keep this thing legal?"

He noticed that her voice was gradually slowing under his mental power. He also noticed that it was a pretty voice when running at normals speeds, sweet and lilting.

"Forgery." he answered honestly, while steadily focusing his power over her.

She smiled and nodded serenely. She blinked her heavy eyes and let them flutter shut, her mouth parted and she breathed deeply. Her skin flushed slightly. Her thighs spread unbidden as her upper body pushed against the seat, her arousal growing more apparent. Bradley glanced over to admire her small breasts jutting out and straining against the thin fabric, her nipples hardening. He wondered if she knew what a show she was putting on for him.

The small-town streets were almost deserted and he wasn't going fast, otherwise things might have gone very badly. The front passenger-side tire drifted off the narrow shoulder and went off the asphalt with a bump. Bradley quickly recovered and veered the truck back into the road, glancing in the rear-view mirror to make sure nothing had been lost in the jostling. Zoe jolted from the sudden movement and mewled in roused surprise. He placed a reassuring hand on her back and gently rubbed below the shoulders, in the same way that one might work to calm a troubled baby.

"It's okay, Zoe. We're okay, everything will be okay." he cooed. "Just relax and let yourself drift off for a moment. Rest now, we have something very nice planned."

She whimpered and moaned once more, then she sighed and returned to a calmer state. He parked the truck in the alley behind his building, gave her mind and body a few more minutes to process what was happening, then he carried her inside and into the camper van which still served as his bedroom. He and Brittany had done a lot of work on the interior of the warehouse. It was reasonably safe to live in at this point, in fact it was on its way to becoming presentable, but still not the kind of place to consummate a new pairing. He laid her on the bed and stepped away to disrobe as she continued to writhe languidly.

When Zoe looked up again, she saw her smiling new employer looming above her naked form and staring deeply into her eyes. Her arms were pulled above her head and bound in place by his strong right hand, his other playing at the perfect small brown nipples on her tingling breasts. For some time he did nothing but stare into her strangely-colored eyes, as if watching the thoughts and feelings flashing far behind them. He realized now that they were not a truly even blue-green, but green around the edges of the pupils and with blue radiating from the center. How very odd, is this some kind of heterochromatia? He made a note to ask about it later, but right now he had more important things to discuss.

"Hey, uh, one thing I forgot to tell you about your new job: you're gonna have to let me breed you." He drew his face closer to hers, and his tone lowered almost to a whisper. "You have to take my seed, you have to let my baby grow in your belly, you have to let yourself become so big and glorious over the next nine months as new life swells inside you. It's a hard job, but I'll try to make it as easy and enjoyable for you as possible. Do you think you can do that for me, Zoe?"

Zoe responded with a surprisingly self-aware smirk, then craned her head up and kissed him. Their lips met and parted as their tongues met and explored. He began planting kisses on her mouth and chin before moving down to her neck, then down to her round and shallow mounds. His actions brought forth moans and ragged gasps as his lips and tongue and fingers played at the front and sides of her sensitive chest. The moans only intensified when she felt him lower to her belly and then even further to the level of her slit, his tongue playing on the field outside her folds. It was freshly-mowed and well-watered. Her labia was spread, swollen, and fully prepared for what was coming.

Her eyes went wide when he rose again and firmly readjusted her body for entry. Her legs locked around his waist in an almost robotic manner as she lay back in the sheets and sighed, her smile now glowing almost as brightly as her eyes. Then a sudden look of desperation flashed in her face and she began to speak.

"Do it, please!" she said in quiet urgency. "Yes! I want, need... I need you to take me! Fill me up and do what you want with me, take all the pain away! Please please please please take me before the others do!"

Take me before the others do? What on Earth does she mean by that? Yet another question for later.

He obliged the beautiful young woman beneath him, firmly pushing himself into her as she gave out a long, high, satisfied moan. He slowly increased the pace until he found where she seemed to be most comfortable. Sometimes he would reach his hands out to hold her around the throat, sometimes he tenderly brushed her hair or caressed her pretty, rosy cheeks. He held tightly to her backside as he neared the summit and hilted as deeply inside as possible. He came in an explosion as the tremors surged through her and his life-giving essence filled her.

She was still murmuring in some mindless gibberish when the tremors eased off. She reached one hand between her legs and plugged the gap with her fingers, giggling at Bradley when he put the trusty pillows beneath her hip and positioned her uterus into a downward-facing angle. Bleen eyes stared forward vacantly as her rapidly-recalibrating body fell into a slumber. He gently ran his hands across her bare flesh until she was fully asleep, then kissed her dreaming forehead and went back to work on their new home.