The Stranger indulges in the Firm Mattress Conspiracy Theory.
4.1. Zoe's younger big cousin.
As Brittany had desired, Bradley did spend several nights alone in a private room with Tina. He instructed the others not to set foot in it until he was done, and most slept through the transformations. Those who didn't would catch the occasional sound of snapping and crackling coming from behind the locked door, and a whiff of something like burning chemicals was faint in the air. When Tina emerged again, her skin was unblemished and unmarked and her chocolate brown hair was starting to fill out into a pageboy bob. She had been instructed to let it grow out all the way, since it seemed such a shame to leave it in the current condition, considering what the hormones would soon do to the sheen and thickness of it once they began to flood her impregnated body.
She required an extended period of rest to recover from the incomprehensible changes that had overcome her. While she remained at home asleep, Brittany and Zoe finished up the day's work and set out to solve their household's furniture problem at one of the local mattress stores. Bradley and Stephanie were waiting in the store's parking lot, sitting in the cab of the truck and hoping for the heavy rainfall to abate.
"Y'know... I wasn't, like, super-religious or scared of men or of sex or anything like that, and I don't think I was a lesbian." Stephanie shrugged. "I just... I just never really liked dating or going out very much, and I never met the right guy before now. I did want kids and a family someday, though. So I guess we both get what we wanted. Feels good to finally be a real woman."
Bradley looked at her and smiled gently.
"It's not what you do with your body that makes you a real woman, Stephanie. Or a real man, for that matter. It's what you do with your life that makes the difference. There's plenty of overgrown little girls and boys out there, screwing each others' brains out every night, but who still can't balance a budget, cook a meal, grow a garden, change the oil on a car or care for a child. You learn some of those things, my dear, and then you'll be a real woman."
Sometimes Bradley wondered where bullshit like that came from. Had he been programmed to say it, or was it really some aspect of what he had been in that unremembered life that must have existed before his van crossed the Cedar Station city limits. Wherever the origins, it seemed to work. Stephanie leaned across the seat and fell into her lover's embrace. He softly kissed her and hugged her reassuringly. The rain was finally easing up outside, leaving a drenched and dreary landscape in its wake. They pulled on their raincoats and stepped out to brave the deluge.
The perishing little town of Cedar Station boasted at least five mattress and furniture stores and about a dozen antique stores, none of which seemed like they could stay in business through legal means alone. Almost like those storefront churches you sometimes see in the ghetto, Rev. Lamarcus "Gator" Grimes officiating, which only have six members but which need an armored truck to collect the tithes every Monday. Things like that always made you wonder. He stepped into the store and wondered if it had ever seen more shoppers than employees.
The head manager looked like a younger, more athletic version of Brittany. The polo shirt and khakis showed the shapely curves of her small breasts and toned legs, and she flashed a winning smile at Bradley as he stepped through the door. Her face wasn't quite as nice, but the hormonal effects of pregnancy would soften and feminize it considerably... as her boyfriend would likely learn to his pleasure. He had started thinking the same thing recently, he soon intended to broach the subject and she would likely agree with his suggestions. Ah well.
Bradley held no real fidelity to the human concept of fidelity, he would happily break up unsuitable pairings if he thought that doing so was in keeping with his goals. But, on the whole, he didn't think it was worthwhile to bother with those already in productive relationships, not so long as unclaimed bodies and unclaimed wombs remained available.
A single green eye glanced at him as he approached. It belonged to an employee who looked like a war-torn, more mature, and far more melancholic version of Zoe, and Mia Klimaszewski was precisely that. The plastic surgery had been cheap and rudimentary, she wore thick black bangs and a comically piratical-looking eyepatch to conceal the remaining scars, though they weren't as bad as she likely imagined them. The family resemblance was unmistakable, Zoe called her a "younger big cousin" because she was almost two years younger, though three inches taller and some fifteen pounds heavier. Most of that extra weight was muscle.
"Good morning, sir. Looking for anything in particular?"
"Among other things, you." he answered. "Mia, right? We're friends with your cousin, Zoe."
"You are? Oh, how is she? We last heard that she got a new boyfriend and then it was like she completely ditched us and fell off the face of the... oh..."
Bradly shrugged. "Uh, yeah. She'll be here soon, we're just a little early. We're refurnishing our home and she says this is the best place in town for that kind of thing. Is that so?"
Mia's face moved oddly when she grinned, almost looking like it would crack. She did a quick check to make sure that no managers were in her blind spots, then spoke in a lowered tone.
"In this town? Yeah, I'm sorry to say that it is. Fairly decent quality and about as cheap as you'll get without leaving the county. No customer service at all. None of us know the first thing about furniture or mattresses so don't bother asking, getting it home is your job, and once you do it's your damn problem if you don't like how it sleeps. The one good thing about this dump is that everywhere else in town is worse."
"Thank you." said Bradley, hearing the front door open behind him as the rest of his party arrived. "Price shouldn't be an issue for us, and I would like the upper end of what you have in terms of comfort and quality. So, if you could show the ladies what's available then I'll leave you to it."
4.2. Legal Entanglements
That little white tank top deserved a medal for the job it was doing at holding in those bountiful curves, thought Police Chief Scott Putnam as he stole a glance through the bars of his holding cell. The magnificent pair of heavy breasts rose and fell with each deep breath from the young woman beneath them. Her long legs dangled languidly off the edge of the cot, lustrous black hair spilled off the other end. Her skin was an unblemished light almond color, contrasting sharply with her clear blue eyes which were presently half-lidded as she stared unseeing into nothing.
Nimarata Mulroney, spoiled and beautiful daughter of the richest man in town, was a most unusual ward of the Cedar City Police Department. She had been found on the outskirts of town in a trailer park in the company of one Chip "Skeeter" Johnson, with a load of illicit drugs and firearms in the trunk of his car. She had apparently tried to work out a business deal with this local free-market capitalist, in which she would help move his goods and launder his cash in exchange for a cut of the profits. The use of her body was also subject to negotiation, though that deal had apparently not been closed before the arrest.
Well, using dad's hardware store as a front wasn't the worst idea in the world, thought Putnam to himself. People might get suspicious if another antique or mattress shop opens in Cedar Station. And while they had lacked the good sense to encrypt or secure their chat logs in any way, Nimarata's dad had already found a good lawyer and it would be very surprising if anyone could make the charges stick. Skeeter was in the custody of state police, where he may well commit suicide by blunt-force trauma after conveniently divulging every aspect of his operations to them. Michael Mulroney had intimated that he wanted something like that to happen, and that's one sure way to have an influence on whom your daughter dates.
A sigh escaped her parted lips, her body began to tighten at some invisible impulse, then released again as her face reflected silent pleasure. For the hundredth time that morning, Chief Putnam had to remind himself that she was young enough to be his daughter, and that she had a father who could buy his station out from under him and bury him beneath it. But, damn it all, just one look at that perfectly-presented figure and he couldn't help but fantasize about the wonderful ways that it would change and swell if he were to find a way to fill it with his child.
What the fuck? Where did that idea come from? Chief Putnam had never wanted children, his ex-wife had left him long ago upon deciding post-matrimony that she did. So, why was his every glance at Nimarata causing him to think about how her unique Irish-Indian features would look on his--
"Hey boss, you still want one of us to go by that store downtown, see what the new owners are up to?"
--Chief Putnam looked up into the face of his deputy, Elaine Washington, a dark-skinned amazon of a woman in her late 30's. The chief blinked once and cleared his head, he thought about the question and answered.
"Yeah, yeah I'll take care of that soon. We've still got a problem with vagrants and break-ins around there, so I need to spend more time downtown anyway."
