Cedar Station Ch. 01

Disclaimers:

This story takes place in a fantasy universe where it is physically impossible for anyone below the age of 18 years and a day (21 and a day in some jurisdictions) to have, to be in any way exposed to, or to even know of the existence of sex.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is unfortunate and disturbing.

This story contains references to mind control, impregnation, harem/multiple partners, paranormal phenomena, crude behavior and attitudes, profanity, bad spelling, bad grammar, bad attempts at humor, and badly-written sex scenes. This story is meant solely to entertain and is not intended to promote or support any beliefs or ideology of any kind, because no one wants that nasty-ass shit in their erotica. Persons attempting to find a plot herein will be shot.

Author does not condone the use of mind control powers to take over small towns and turn them into paranormal breeding colonies.

1.1. Fixer-upper.

Rain was pouring from the grey morning sky, with no sign of easing up. Like a captain seeking shelter in a storm, the driver heaved his lumbering camper van down the cracking asphalt side-street and into the vacant lot where it dead-ended. He worked his way around multiple abandoned vehicles, some fire-gutted and most stripped down to the axles. He dodged piles of trash and rubble as he pulled around behind the storefronts and into the rear loading areas, driving directly into the store/warehouse that he was interested in buying. The realtor's Toyota 4Runner was already waiting inside.

They called it the town's historic district, meaning "they" were too soft-hearted to raze it. The rat-infested brick facades with their blindfolded windows stood silent for year upon year, slowly crumbling. Someone would occasionally make a lot of noise about a "downtown revitalization project" of one kind or another, which somehow never made the place any less of a sad forsaken twilight zone where no one wants to go. The new guy in town had made very little noise as of yet. For the time being, few would know that he was here.

The previous owners had left their shelving, pallets, and some office furniture stacked in the middle of the dirty concrete floor, all piled together like an unlit bonfire. The previous residents had left their bottles, needles and condoms in the corners and it was a wonder how they hadn't yet managed to torch the place.

The warehouse would have been prime real estate at the start of the 20th century, not far from the Cedar River which ran along the edge of the town. It had been right next door to the Cedar Station's industrial district: the titular train station, the depot and the sawmill. That part of town had been razed some years back; it was a large empty field where people now dumped their wrecked appliances and other garbage. The property was currently on the market for about the same price that might have been offered circa 1910, without adjusting for inflation. They must want it off their hands before it really does burn down, he thought.

Cedar Station had no cedars. Cedar Station had no station. The cedars were all chopped down and the station was abandoned with the collapse of the local lumber industry. That was decades ago. The homes and businesses were slowly left to rot, and so were the people who stayed. The main business of today was welfare and welfare fraud, the 600-odd residents were mostly those too old or too poor to leave. The primary pastimes were drugs, crime, and other forms of nihilistic self-destruction. What young people did hang around after high school were quickly gobbled up by the war machine to serve and die in Eastern Europe, Eastern Asia or any of the old favorites in the Middle East. The prospective buyer felt something unpleasant crunch beneath his new work boots as he stepped out of the van.

"I don't have to worry about asbestos here, do I?" he asked.

"Hepatitis or tetanus maybe." came a sharp-sounding female voice in response. "Not asbestos, not if the seller wasn't lying and the inspector wasn't bent."

Dressed in her dark slacks, prim white blouse and dark suit jacket, Brittany Kohl was a contrast against the wretched interior background. She was in her late-20's, with warm blue eyes and curls of honey-brown hair reaching down to her waist. Her hips were broad and flaring atop a very nice set of legs. She gave a well-practiced fake smile that nonetheless looked nice on her slightly-narrow face. She wore less makeup than was typical of the realtor's standard uniform, and had traded out her dress shoes for a practical set of well-worn hiking boots.

She also showed no sign of the drug abuse that seemed surprisingly common in her industry, neither in her physical appearance nor in her medical or legal records. She had worked in the nearest major city until recently, before relocating back to her home town. No real financial incentive to do this, so probably family-related. Few signs of her having reestablished social relations in the area yet, neither friendly nor romantic. She didn't invest much into advertising or self-promotion, meaning she either couldn't afford to or was good enough not to need it. Rentals and residential properties were her forte; this would be her first experience with commercial real estate. Bradley Colson knew all of this about her because he was almost more interested in the realtor than the realty.

Bradley was tall and rangy in a way that farmers were once said to be, before mechanization and farm subsidies made them all fat. The blue jeans and plaid shirt heightened that impression, even if he didn't have a farmers' tan or seemingly any other kind of tan. His skin was almost translucent. There was a strength and dexterity in his body that wasn't readily apparent, though Brittany noticed it. Not many people have that look anymore.

She might have thought him Amish if not for the lack of a beard and what might have been a slight New England accent. His forehead seemed unusually wide beneath his short black hair, his silvery gray eyes had an almost mesmerizing quality to them and she couldn't help but feel disarmed by his presence. As one who always carried an unregistered firearm when viewing empty properties with strange men, and as one who had used it before and didn't regret it, that wasn't typical of her.

They toured the building. It was a 3,600 square foot single-story structure, with 3,000 dedicated to an open floor and the rest made up of back office or storage rooms. It was in good shape structurally, considering its age and disuse. It had accommodation for water and sewage, both currently nonfunctional but not too hard to repair. New locks and doors and motion sensors had been installed since the place went on the market and it didn't look like any of the squatting or trespassing had been recent; uninvited guests shouldn't be an issue. Most of the rain stayed outside, and Bradley was even pleasantly surprised at how well the sound was dampened. He asked questions and she answered them intelligently and competently. When she didn't know the answer, she could always provide a quick reference to someone who would.

"I'll take it!" he said at last as they concluded the tour and returned to their vehicles. "We'll close at your earliest convenience, and I can pay immediately."

"You said you'll pay cash, right? I assume you have the cashier's check prepared?"

"Not exactly." grinned Bradley.

He opened his van's side-door and Brittany glanced inside. The interior had a spartan yet comfortable appearance, it was furnished as a home on the road and it seemed to be a mix between a living module and mobile workshop, with storage for a wide collection of tools she didn't recognize. He stepped in, opened a bolted-down safe, removed a small satchel from it and stepped back out. He pulled that open and revealed the rubber-bound stacks of fresh, crisp, newly-reissued 500-dollar bills with which he planned to buy the property.

Brittany's mouth fell open at the sight, her expression a mix of shock and wonderment. Bradley's grin widened more. The US dollar was collapsing even faster than the US world empire, but people still can't help but gawk at the little slips of gray-green paper with faces of dead politicians on them.

"Cash?" she asked when she finally recovered. "Like... literal, physical cash? Is... is it even legal to buy land with cash these days? Is it legal to even have this much cash?"

"No." said Bradley as he pulled out a bill and offered it for her to examine. "I mean, yes, but also no. Police departments will impound a normal person's cash if they find even one McKinley in your wallet. But, they did bring that bill back for a very good reason: a lot of the filthy-rich oligarchs who rule this country still have a lot a situations where cash is still the best way to pay for the goods or services they desire. I mean, do you seriously think someone like Elon Musk or Jeff Bezos wants to cut a check out to his bookie, his coke dealer, or his pimp? Of course not!"

Jerry Springer once lost a job as city councilman for writing checks to prostitutes, thought Brittany distantly. Though in truth that kind of proved the point.

"They're thinking of bringing back the thousand dollar bill too." he continued. "Once you get enough of this stuff, the things that you can and can't do with it start to get a little, uh, flexible."

"Oh." said Brittany contentedly. She looked down at the scowl on the 25th president's face, then up at the slight smirk on Bradley's. She stood dazedly for some time, staring into space. Then she chuckled at herself and handed the bill back to him. Brittany had never dealt with large amounts of physical cash before, the closest equivalent for her was cryptocurrency, and in community college she had once helped friends broker the trade of a used car and a gym bag full of meth. But Bradley seemed confident enough on the issue. She noticed that he had drawn very close to her while she had been examining the bill, but for some reason she did not feel menaced.

"So, Mrs. Kohl... I think I'm going to hang out here for the rest of the day, at least until the rain eases off. You're free to find a seat inside and join me, if you would like."

"What!?" she gasped in fake indignation. "Hang out in a van down by the river parked in a dingy abandoned warehouse with a guy I just met? What kind of girl do you think I am? What would my mother think?"

Bradley looked back at her and smiled roguishly.

"Oh, I'm sure she would be happy that you're staying out of bad weather, and building rapport with one of your favorite new clients while you do. Besides, what's the worse that could happen?"

"I don't know, Mister Colson, what is the worse that could happen?"

Her voice carried a husky undertone, which was probably uncharacteristic of her. He knew that his presence was already having a dramatic effect on her behavior, and that would accelerate tremendously when he had her in the tight confines of the vehicle. He shrugged and answered.

"I could use my supernatural powers to seduce you, mate with you, get you pregnant, and turn you into the manager of the harem I'm going to build as I take over this town."

"Oh." she smiled. "Yeah, ha ha! That... yeah, that does sound pretty out there, ha ha ha!"

Brittany slapped his shoulder as if he had told a good joke, and he knew then that he had her. Normally, she would have probably found a diplomatic means of quickly ending a conversation like this, "diplomatic" in the sense of saying "nice doggy" while slowly reaching for her revolver. Instead, she didn't resist at all when Bradley guided her through the sliding door and closed it shut behind them. He pulled down a futon bed and the two of them sat together on the edge of it. He began to ask questions about her life. She told her story in a distant, dazed, and increasingly flustered ramble.

Brittany Kohl came home because her mom was sick and needed help getting the house ready for when her younger sister gets out of jail. Trisha Kohl will soon be making one of her brief, semi-random appearances as a free citizen, she explained. In truth, her life in the nearest "big city" (population: 35,000) wasn't really giving her the opportunities she had hoped for, and she didn't regret leaving it behind. While her main focus had always been on building her own business, Brittany had often thought that she would like to have a home and family as well. Relationships had come and gone, but one way or another they had never worked out for her.

"My sister once said that I'll get exactly what I want one day. I'll find a rich, smart, suave, sexy guy who's biggest turn-on is frumpy-looking poor girls from shitty hick towns. He'll buy me a nice house with a big home office in the suburbs, we'll have 2.3 kids who will be raised by TikTok and Ritalin. Then when I start pushing 40, he'll knock up his big-boobed bimbo of a 20-year-old secretary and abandon me for her."

She had already kicked off her shoes and removed her jacket. Bradley had a hand under the bottom of her blouse and was gently caressing the small of her back, feeling the rising heat of her supple body and enjoying the provocative way he was making her spine arch.

"Well, I would never do anything like that to you, my dear. We're going to have a lot more than just two or three kids, for one thing. And I'm not breeding any bimbos, for another. However, when I decide to breed my secretaries, I'll bring them home and have you hold them down for me."

Brittany didn't laugh this time. Looking deep into his strange and hueless eyes, she got the impression that he wasn't joking. And, somehow, that didn't bother her. It also didn't seem odd that she knew nothing about his life or aspirations, beyond his stated desire to impregnate her.

Should that suggestion bother her? Well, why should it? Would her pussy be quivering so crazily right now if it should? He gently ran his fingers through her hair, he pulled her close and they kissed. Then he whispered in her ear,

"Your mind is just about ready, now we're going to work on priming your body. Just relax and let it happen, Brittany. I can already tell that I chose very, very well with you..."

For just a moment there was a spark of illumination in the back of her mind. What are you, Bradley Colson? What are you doing to me? But that thought went dark as fast as it appeared.

He felt her nipples harden through the thin fabric as he took her breasts in hand and cupped them gently. They were small in size, but firm and well-suited to her frame. He could well imagine how his child would fill them out and swell them. She looked at him with wide, glazing eyes as his hands examined her vulnerable form. Her breaths came in heavier and heavier gasps, she didn't resist as he lowered her into the futon, leaving her arms spread out and her legs dangling freely off the side. He rose up from the bed and kneeled on the floor before her, he unbuttoned her pants and hooked his thumbs into her waistband, gently shedding them along with her panties. He looked at the thin trimmed patch of pubic hair, then up at her face flushed with both arousal and bewilderment, then he pushed his smirking face down between her thighs.

"Ah! Ooooh!" moaned Brittany with a sudden jerk as his invasion of her flesh began. Her eyes went wider still while his tongue explored the damp surroundings, playing around at the outer region and then darting in and out of her swollen clitoris. He slowly kissed, licked, and sucked at her. Her fingers dug deeply into the bedsheets, then her hands shot out to find the back of his scalp and cupped his head, adjusting him as needed to maximize her pleasure. She screamed in ecstasy as her juices boiled over and ran like Niagara upon the soft silken sheets.

Before the orgasm completely swamped her mind, a small part of her wondered at the strong, strange sensation she felt in the core of her being. There was a warmth there, it was almost like something was churning inside her lower belly. It was reaching a crescendo now, though it was hard to say when it had started. Her muscles continued to spasm and relax in wild intervals while her new lover paid homage to her lotus stamen.

She would later learn that her reproductive system was shifting its ovulation cycle to maximize the chance of successful conception. Hundreds of biological, neurological, and chemical processes were firing off inside her, transforming her into the perfect vessel for the carrying of his young. If she had been on birth control or under the effects of any drugs that might prove harmful to new life, his powers would have neutralized them.

Bradley maintained the barrage for an impressively long length of time. Brittany was sighing, twitching, moaning, and gasping for air by the time he finished. Her blouse was unbuttoned, soaked in sweat and pulled halfway off. He removed his own clothes, helped her out of what remained of hers, and laid in the bed beside her while waiting for her convulsions to subside.

He admired the slow rise and fall of her gently sloping breasts, as well as the lovely set of hips and pale white belly that showed only a little paunch from excess body fat. That's easy enough to fix, and it wouldn't even be noticeable once her womb begins to grow. Brittany looked closely at him, and she didn't seem to mind his lean muscles and the flat, hard belly that his somewhat-baggy clothing had concealed. Guy could definitely spend some more time in the sun, though!

He grabbed her hands and held them together above her head, he rolled on top and pinned down her legs with his own. His blood-engorged member stood waiting above her womanhood. It was uncut and unremarkable, though clearly more than capable of placing life inside her. And there was nothing she could possibly do at this point to escape it! For what seemed like a long time, he kept her pressed down in this helpless position and held her with his mesmerizing gaze.

"Are you ready?" he asked simply.

She opened her mouth and breathed lightly, but no words made it past her lips. In that moment Brittany wondered, was she really ready to let this stranger fuck her?

No! He wasn't going to fuck her, he was going to BREED her! He was going to hold her down and slam himself into her and spill himself inside her, then her body would receive his seed and slowly begin to grow big and heavy with his baby. And how could she possibly refuse so glorious a fate? Her eyes were glassy and rapidly-dimming, less and less sign of thought behind them. All she could do in answer was to throw her head in an up-and-down motion.

He entered. Ragged gasps escaped her as he pushed into her folds. She was moist and tight and welcoming, she moaned and her eyes closed as her body took him eagerly. He moved his hands down to her waist and then to her spread legs, holding them apart as his pace began to quicken. Her arms grasped his shoulders as she tried to pull him closer and deeper. His climax was fast approaching and so was another one of hers. With shared yells of ecstasy, the walls of her canal clamped down and he released thick ropes of life-making seed deep within her. It was all too soon that their coupling came to its conclusion, he rolled on his back and held her by the hands as they both desperately gasped for breath.

Bradley was the first to recover. He picked up some of the pillows and cushions that had fallen to the floor and wordlessly placed them behind her back, slightly elevating her cervix. Almost certainly not necessary, but she did look so nice in that position. She eyed him dreamily, fully knowing what he was trying to do. He kissed her on the forehead, ran a thumb through her hair, and covered her in a light blanket, letting his hand drift to her lower belly. She was quickly falling asleep and he slipped into the bed beside her. It had been a big day for them both, and the days to come would only grow bigger.