In Chapter Three, David's relationships with Mary and Victoria go in unexpected directions. Notice how much his life changes, and how quickly. If you were David, what would you do with his invention? The possibilities seem endless, don't they?
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For the next three days, Mary and I spent almost all our free time in bed. If I wasn't on top of her, she was on top of me. I had to take time to recover from one session of lovemaking before starting another, but Mary was always receptive to my advances. It was every bit as glorious as it must sound. I would say it was like being on a honeymoon, but I didn't love Mary. It's hard to admit, but I still harbored ill feelings towards her. As our sexual adventure progressed, I couldn't help but feel smug about having my way with a woman who'd wronged me. I felt like a sleazy character from a porn novel.
I'm telling you this because it's relevant to what happened later. It was something that changed the way I felt about my invention and the way it should be used. I will never treat another person the way I treated Mary.
I'll have a lot more to say about that later.
When we weren't having sex, Mary and I talked about all kinds of topics we'd never explored on our previous dates. Mary had been a reserved, closed-off woman who was slow to reveal much about herself. Now, she was happy to talk about anything and everything.
I learned that Mary was never interested in academic subjects, but she'd always been passionate about cosmetics, makeup, fashion, diet, exercise, and any other topic that could be applied to making women more beautiful. That included cosmetic procedures. I'd assumed her looks were the result of good genetics and clean living. She told me she'd had breast implants, lip plumping, rhinoplasty, a butt lift, and some kind of surgical procedure that transformed droopy eyelids into wide-open, youthful eyes. Her surgeon must have been some kind of genius, because her only surgical scars were virtually invisible.
I was particularly shocked by the implants. I'd always thought that a woman with implants looked like she had taken a grapefruit, sliced it in two, and stapled each half to her chest. Mary explained that cheap implants look like that. Cheap breast augmentation involves taking a water-filled bag of plastic, making an incision in the breast, and inserting the implant. There's a better way, which happens to cost a lot more. It involves inserting the implant beneath the pectoral muscle instead of on top of it. That's why Mary's breasts look so natural. The only real indications that they were implants were that it was unusual for breasts that large not to sag. They were a little too beautiful to be real.
Mary hadn't paid for any of her procedures. She'd conned various men into paying for all of them. Her victims tended to be old millionaires who thought they could get Mary to be their girlfriend if they just gave her enough gifts. That's why she had a closet full of designer clothing, a nice collection of jewelry, and a big pile of first-class shoes and handbags. She could have never afforded all that stuff on her salary as a hairdresser.
Mary had been a very accomplished little con artist. I'd use my sonic stimulator to put an end to that.
I also learned Mary was a certified personal trainer. She'd earned the certification so she could learn the best possible ways to keep her body looking good. She'd had a few clients in the beginning, but she stopped because she was too lazy to do the work needed to bring in new customers.
She liked being a hairstylist, and she was good at it. Mary said she was the most popular stylist at the salon where she worked, and I didn't doubt it. I was surprised to learn that Mary has a lot of artistic talent. Once, when we were going to her apartment to pick up some spare clothes and cosmetics, I saw several lovely oil paintings on the walls, and they were all signed "Mary." The apartment was so nicely put together that I suspected Mary had conned some man into hiring an interior designer for her. No. Not at all. She did it by herself.
Mary is an extraordinary cook. Her particular skill is producing exquisite meals that are as healthful as humanly possible. She's amazing. My diet improved dramatically when Mary started cooking my meals and doing my shopping.
One activity we shared while we weren't having sex was going to the gym. I recognized that Mary knew a lot more about exercise than me, so I let her direct my workouts. I started seeing better results almost immediately.
When I met Mary, I decided pretty quickly that she was a shallow person with little of interest to say. Learning the truth taught me a valuable lesson. She wasn't like me, but she wasn't dumb. Just different.
More about that later.
Mary spent every night with me, and she was there a lot during the day. I was having so much fun that I briefly wondered if I should have her move in with me. It would save time driving back and forth. But I realized that Mary made a better lover than a housemate. Despite my growing appreciation of her finer qualities, she wasn't the kind of woman I want to live with. I've got a ph.d in neuroscience. Mary has a two-year certificate from beauty school. I'm passionate about politics, economics, and culture. Mary doesn't know the difference between a Democrat and a Republican, she can't balance her checkbook, and her only cultural knowledge focuses on beauty and fashion.
It would never work out.
And there was another thing. Every time I went to work, I saw a continual parade of lovely coeds that were endlessly enticing. They are students, I'm a professor, so I would never pursue a romantic relationship with any of them. Still, they served as a daily reminder of the fact that I could have any woman I wanted. I could use the sonic stimulator to transform as many women as I could handle into doting, sexy lovers every bit as companionable as Mary. I knew I wouldn't be able to resist the temptation to be with many women. Letting any one woman move in with me could only cause problems.
One morning I showed up at work and found Victoria sitting on the floor and playing with the dogs. I sat down next to Victoria and saw that although the dogs were happy, she wasn't. Something was bothering her.
"Victoria, what's wrong?" I asked.
"Oh, it's nothing," she said. She was obviously lying.
"I am your friend," I said. "You can tell me anything. If there's something going on that I can help with, you need to tell me."
"It's nothing," she repeated.
Clearly, it wasn't nothing. It was definitely something. I sat there for a few seconds, then stood up and opened the drawer where I kept the hearing aids that block the frequencies generated by the sonic stimulator. Then I unlocked my cell phone, opened my music player, and began to play the sound file I'd labeled "Mary's Song."
I sat down next to Victoria and waited a moment for the sound to take effect. "Tell me what's wrong."
She began to cry. "My life is falling apart," she said. "I don't know what to do."
That didn't sound like "nothing" to me. "You can trust me, Victoria. If you let me know what's happening, maybe I can do something about it."
"You can't do anything about it. I'm not going to be here next semester. I'm not going to finish my MBA."
Victoria explained that since she enrolled in the MBA program, she'd struggled to put together enough money and financial aid to pay her tuition and other expenses. She'd worked every job she could get, missing sleep and depleting her energy in menial work. It explained why she sometimes smelled like french fries. It had to be hard for a vegetarian to work in a burger joint. The only job she actually enjoyed was taking care of the dogs in my lab.
She also had growing problems with her parents. They were religious conservatives who didn't think girls should get higher education. They wanted her to marry some oaf from their church so she could get down to the serious work of making as many babies as humanly possible. The tension was growing intolerable. Victoria thought it was past time for her to live on her own, but she couldn't afford that, and her relationship with her parents seemed to be at a breaking point.
Her tuition was due in three days, and she was $2,000 short. Now, that doesn't sound like a lot of money for most people, but it was an impossible amount for Victoria.
"Alright, I'm going to tell you what we're going to do," I said.