Stepfordized: Part 10

“…And that’s why I’m telling you all to think. For your FUCKING. SELVES! How long do you ladies expect to waddle around for like you are? Wot, you think the hubby’s neva’ gonna run out of money? And when ‘e does, wot’re you gonna do? You’re a mum of fuckin’ 6 with no workin’ experience since you were maybe 13 years old watchin’ someone ELSE’S  shi’y, spoiled, snot-nosed li’le brats just to earn enough quid to buy the slu’y makeup palette that’s gonna get you knocked up one day! Wot happened to you? Where’s your fire? Your joy? Where’s your sense of adven’cha?

Was ‘is cock really that world sha’ering that you decided that you weren’t a person anymore? Izz’at you now? Izz’at cho’loife? All done up and pre’y as a li’le girl just so you can shag ya freedom away one stupid night in ‘igh school instead of going out ‘n MAKIN somethin’ of y’self? A servant till the end, izzit? Z’at wot you lot are? A slave to your ‘usband? I don’t know about you lasses, but I’m NO ONE’S slave. Doll? Princess? Baby girl? Mmmm….Maybe. If ‘e works for it. But that’s just it. If you want me to play pre’y for ya, I’m gonna need a li’le more legwork than the blokes in THIS town are puttin’ out. Till then I ‘spose I’ll just ‘ave to deal with shi’y men all collin’ me a nahsty bitch ‘n such.”

Eliza had been on a roll for the past month. As the host of Ansley Radio’s newest and hottest opinion segment, she’d immediately noticed a sudden, visceral shift in her social and financial standing. Every time Eliza went on air, “London Bridge” netted her an EASY $500 for just an hour of work, most of which was just her ranting and raving into the microphone with the same pissed off energy she had while she was out on the street waving signs. At first, she’d expected to just be tossed in the back and allowed minimal time with heavy restrictions on what she could do or say, and for the first couple streams, her attitude reflected that. She had come in off the streets expecting to act like she was still on them.

(1)

However there were of course, differences between the two situations. For one thing, more people recognized Eliza on the street than ever before. It was telling really, how much of a difference she had really been making before she met Donna. Most women had no idea that there ever WAS a goth black girl standing on street corners and protesting the cultural climate in the city, let alone what it was she was actually complaining about. Now she could be anywhere: At the store, at the park, or in a restaurant, and the moment she opened her mouth to speak, faces would light up.

“Oh my gosh! You’re London Bridges! I LOVE your show! That IS you, right?” One very pregnant woman had exclaimed after Eliza had merely greeted her out of politeness in a public place.

It took several minutes of explaining and platitudes to convince the lady to stop gushing and allow the poor new celebrity to open a new city bank account and finally deposit her first paycheck in years that didn’t have her late aunt Wanda’s name on it. Still, it was nice to finally be recognized.

While on air, Eliza was allowed to say whatever she wanted so long as the ratings stayed up with a few exceptions. She wasn’t allowed to curse, for starters. She wasn’t allowed to get into national politics as it pertained to elections, candidacies, etc., lest her show devolve into bitching about Washington and missing the target demographic: Housewives.

Thirdly, Eliza wasn’t allowed to diss, slander, impune, complain, or talk shit about Donna Celeste. That one was surprisingly easy to accomplish. Despite her station in such a preppy, conservative town, Eliza had very little to complain about when it came to her boss. Donna was kind and courteous even when the cameras weren’t rolling. She was strong willed and independent with a forceful sort of charisma that made her seem like someone who was not only worth listening to, but also not to be fucked with. Donna paid her employees well, made sure to spend individual one-on-one time with Eliza when she could, and always went out of her way to keep the station stocked with couches, snacks and refreshments so that they were available to everyone no matter where they were. Granted, this was partly because a good portion of the staff were pregnant women who couldn’t be on their feet or without food for too long, but that didn’t mean Eliza didn’t enjoy the perks alongside them. Every day she worked now, Eliza walked into the room with expensive coffee and some kind of scone, danish, or pastry that she picked up for free in the café lobby of the station. Donna had done everything to make her comfortable, it seemed, and it was working out splendidly. Donna Celeste had a brand new hit segment raking in loads of money while Eliza was fed, well compensated, and never unhappy to come in to work.

Elsewhere, Ahanu made her way up the street towards the studio where her kinda-sorta maybe girlfriend was currently giving an impassioned speech to her devoted listeners. As much as it pained her to listen to anything that came out of the pastel nightmare that was Ansley Park, she had to admit that with Eliza at the helm of her own segment, Celeste Studios was something she’d been tuning into more frequently. It was impressive to her how much cursing the executives allowed the dark skinned activist-turned-radio show host to do considering most of the content they produced. Even more than that, it was uninterrupted by poppy songs about finding love and having sex or being rich and hot. Eliza was able to just breathe British fire down the throats of the entire Stepford community without pause or outside commentary slowing her momentum.

Ahanu wanted to be proud, but didn’t quite know if she could be yet. She and Eliza had made out several times, but nothing was ever made official. They didn’t quite talk about having an acknowledged, facebook official romantic relationship even after a month and a half of seeing each other a couple times a week. They hadn’t had sex or done anything especially girlfriendy other than kiss, but it was hard for the nerdy Dakota girl to not see Eliza as hers.

Today, she thought, would be the day she confronted the object of affection with the very question that had gotten her dumped by Dancing Knife on the reservation.

…It was not a thing she looked forward to having to do.

(2)

“It’s not that I ‘ate women for makin’ choices. Ah don’t. It’s when those choices are bein’ made FOR us without any consultation or consideration. An’ not even di-rectly, roight? Iss’like….We’re bein coerced, savvy? All our food is made to cater to mums. Most women can’t get jobs because applyin’ for anything other than secrat’ry will get you laughed out of the room. And the ads! Ads everywhere! Babysitting fliers, posters for child rearing classes, shopping centers chock full’a pics of fat, pregnant women with big, round bellies meant ‘ta make you want one y’self.

Ah was in the supamarket the otha day and you know wot a sawr? I sawr a huge, absolutely bloody fucking massive selection of clothes for baby girls, baby boys, toddla’s, kids, an LOADS of clothes for pregnant ladies. Then, in the very, teeny tiny tippy back bit was a one-aisle section of clothes that were just baaaarely too big fa lil ol’ me with a sign ‘angin over it from a chain. Can y’guess wot it said?

It said ‘Non. Materni’y.’

Non-Materni’y, like it was such a weird thing to not be waddlin’ around looking like I swallowed a wa’amelon an need a new bra cuz me tits got too big to manage.

If the ‘ole store only markets to girls wiv a baby on board, wot kinda message does that send to our girls? Our teens an’ preteens? The girls who come in from elsewhere to go to Uni? You really think that ‘avin Claire fockin Grant fillin a college wiv ‘er steppy lil minions is gonna do annethin’ but get in their ‘eads and tell em ta spread their legs an toss the condoms out the window before the year’s out? Even then, most of the classes there are shite like ‘How to Hold a Baby While Suckin a Cock’ anyways.

That’s why we’ve ‘ad a bunch of ‘big family announcements’ at DGWA only ‘alfway through the first semesta. That’s why ev’ry ‘igh school in drivin distance’s got a pregnancy rate of eighty-eight percent over four years. Eighty-eight! And that’s UP eight percent from 2019. In just five years, the teen ‘non-materni’y’ rate went from one in five, to one in ten.  Preggo High, the lot of em, and it’s all because we let fat, cock kissin mums wiv’ permanent baby fev’a be in cha’ge of our education while bitches like Taylor Whatsername own every other building. An’ wot do they care, hey?  They’re fuckin rich. They can hop on as many cocks as they like, shit out anotha’ kid, an never even ‘ave to raise the poor thing themselves.

But, my dear steppies….I’m afraid we’re outta time, so that’s where I’m gonna ‘ave to leave you all. But I promise you: Think on wot I’ve said an soon you might find you’ve got more autonomy than you think. Until then, bye loves.”

With a massive sigh, Eliza tilted her head back to catch her breath. It was a good rant, per usual, though she didn’t know how much was actually getting through to people. Not that it’d make a difference in her paycheck, but still.  She always got so worked up during those streams that she could feel her breath rising into her chest as she spoke, leaving her a little light headed when she came back down.

“Miss Baker, we have an Ahanu out in the lobby for you?” Said Colleen, a preggo-bellied Filipina intern in a cute floral dress from the lobby.

Colleen was sweet and though she was meant to work in the lobby, she was constantly running back and forth to help Eliza with anything she needed for her streams. Eliza in turn, appreciated her endlessly, even if she was sad to see such a young girl knocked up so early in life.

(3)

“Thanks love! I’ll be right out!

Eliza smiled happily, taking a moment to preen her skirt and shake her puffy dreadlocks  in order to make sure they were looking cute and presentable for her visitor.

(4)

As Eliza made her way, skipping euphorically down the hall and past Donna’s office suite, the elegant lady in red called out to her.

“Wonderful show, as usual, beautiful. You keep this up and we may need to talk about giving you some more airtime.” Donna said, smiling sweetly.

“No promises of course, but my intuition has never been wrong before. And you know what my intuition says about you, Eliza?”

Eliza twisted her head slightly, blushing from the praise. “Wot’s that then, ma’am?”

“It says…” Donna continued, sauntering over and leaning on a rounded, donut-shaped counter of unknown use. “That you’re going to be a star one day.”

(5)

Eliza couldn’t do anything but smile and twist her hips back and forth meekly. The idea of being on the radio was already a dream come true. To be told she was going to be a star one day was almost too much.

“Anyways. Go on and have fun. I believe there’s a cute native girl waiting for you in the lobby.” Donna said, smiling sweetly. “Oh, and I’ve had a little something sent to your house as congratulations and thanks to my newest associate and her smashingly successful start.”

Both Eliza and Ahanu moved towards each other with a mixture of joy and nervousness. The two women had both been intent on telling each other the same thing over the course of their day, but that was pushed back by Ahanu’s fear of rejection and the news of Eliza’s especially good day and possible upcoming increase in airtime.

For her part, Eliza had been dodgy and evasive when it came to relationships, especially new ones and especially new relationships with other women. She was proudly bisexual, but had had bad luck in the past with women. Initially, she’d tried swearing off attempting to date other girls as they ‘never worked out’, but rationalized that by that logic, being single meant that none of her heteronormative relationships worked out either. Given the number of bad experiences with men trying to push her boundaries when it came to sex and especially birth control after growing up in Ansley Park where the express goal of almost any romance was immediate procreation, Eliza had believed that dating women was the way to go. Whenever she tried however, the few girls willing to date a skinny black girl would typically just use her for sex for several weeks before they tried to introduce a man to their relationship or just outright admitted to cheating and often times being pregnant as a result.

Ahanu’s family and culture was fine with her dating women, though they most often saw her as only gay instead of bisexual. It was incorrect and led to some issues, but for the most part, it wasn’t a big deal. The real problem was the fact that everybody on the rez knew everybody else, so the dating pool was already shallow even before putting on filters for sexuality and preference. If you dated virtually anyone, chances were that you were only the latest of all your friends to date that person, and that if you broke up it would cause divisive problems with a lot of people and families that were otherwise close to you. By and large, teens on the rez were encouraged to date within the community in order to strengthen the bloodline or whatever, but that mostly just caused issues amongst already small friend groups. Ahanu was by far not the first to start looking for companionship elsewhere.

Their day was a simple one. It started with Eliza immediately going outside and lighting a cigarette, practically attacking it after three hours in the studio. Ahanu watched as the dark skinned brit’s stress melted away with each decreasingly desperate inhale.

“Sorry luv. I don’t mean to slow us down with me habit. I just needed one after work, you know? Well…I suppose you wouldn’t, but still. I’ll be right as rain after one more.”

Ahanu sheepishly fidgeted with her purse before pulling out a pack of American Spirits and blushing at the astonished but delighted expression on Eliza’s face. Ahanu hadn’t smoked before she met Eliza, and the brand was a little on the nose, but she figured it would be something they could share together, especially after their first smoky kiss a while back. It wasn’t the healthiest thing in the world, she knew, but virtually everyone on the rez smoked and they lived good, long lives. Plus, she had no plans of doing it unless Eliza was around.

“Noooo…Braidy bunch! I don’t believe it! You bad girl you! I hope I didn’t get you star’ed smoking now ‘ave I?” Eliza beamed, looking far happier than her words let on.

Ahanu blushed and flicked her disposable lighter to life. She still wasn’t used to breathing in cigarette smoke, but she’d been practicing for long enough to be able to not throw up whenever she inhaled. That, she hoped, would be enough to get her more used to making out with a more seasoned smoker like Eliza.

“Maybe a little…” She said coyly. “I figured that after the last few times it might be worth getting used to the taste a bit..”

Eliza’s eyes shone in mischievous delight as she watched the object of her affection burn through a cigarette of her own. She was obviously not used to doing it and didn’t seem to be enjoying it all that much, but the fact that she was going so far just to accommodate her was endearing to say the least. When they had both finished, Eliza slunk over and put her long, spindly hands onto Ahanu’s shoulders, then snaked both of them up her neck before pressed them against her cheeks. Moving closer, Eliza realized just how short Ahanu was compared to her with a sort of dominant satisfaction. She was going to get what she wanted and she knew it. With a sudden surge of amorous ferocity, she leaned down and pulled the smaller girl’s face towards hers and began kissing her right there on the street. As their hot tongues danced across each other, both girls delighted in the smoky taste of their partner’s enthusiastic affection until finally, the kiss was broken and they stood, gazing into each other’s eyes. For a moment Ahanu looked just as joyous and quietly passionate as Eliza was, but then her gaze shifted and her smile fell.

“Hm?” Eliza asked, concern replacing her happy expression. “Wot’s wrong?”

Ahanu sighed.

“I just….I don’t know. I guess I have a question is all. It’s…I don’t know.”

“Well…I’m here for it. If there’s something you want to ask, then the best thing to do is ask it and I’ll give ya a straight answer.” Eliza said, her voice gentle and accommodating.

Ahanu’s heart began to pound painfully hard in her chest as she tried to work up the courage to ask her question.

“So….Like….What are we? I mean…We keep meeting like this and making out or whatever but it doesn’t really go any farther. Then when we go to leave, we don’t kiss goodnight or anything like that and I’m just left wondering if I’m just a fun time for you….or what?”

Eliza’s expression was difficult to read at first. She turned away and paced back and forth silently before breathing a sigh of her own.

“Well….What would you like us to be then?” She asked.

“I want…to be together. Romantically. Like….official.” Ahanu replied,  a concerned certainty in her tone.

For a moment, Eliza paused. She almost reached for her cigarettes again but stopped herself before her hand made it back into her purse.

“Alright then. Official it is. We’re a thing.” She said. It was the first time that Ahanu had ever seen her look genuinely nervous.

The rest of the night had gone swimmingly. They held hands in the park and kissed often, always shying away and blushing when they saw the other looking back. After picking up some beers, they headed back to Eliza’s place where a gift basket from Donna lay waiting full of sweets. They watched a cheesy, Celeste Studios romcom about two rival teens who grew up in the same town reuniting in the big city and having to share a house to fool the government into thinking they were married in order to keep a scam stipend they received for young couples. Of course they hate it at first but soon start hate fucking and she winds up pregnant with his baby. They marry, she turns into a bimbo soccer mom, they get rich. It was cute for what it was.

After all the festivities were over and 10 PM hit, Ahanu stood up and walked over to the door, staring eagerly at Eliza who remained seated on the couch.

“So…Do I finally get a kiss goodnight? From my girlfriend?” She asked expectant, blushing joy.

Eliza sat up on the couch. “I mean…I could….But I think I’d prefer it if you just stayed ova’ tonight?”

Ahanu’s heart soared.

For the next couple weeks, the new couple met up frequently and spent many nights together, trading off whose house they would stay at each night unless there was a reason not to. Sex happened up to three times a day, with both women seemingly entranced by each other and obsessed with their bodies. The nights were often cutesy and romantic, and with Eliza’s show raking in cash like crazy, both women were rarely without some kind of delectable treat or gift as they both spoiled each other rotten with trips to massages and trips to hair and nail salons. The simple joy of being together keeping them up all hours of the night watching tv, doing each other's nails or hair, or just talking in their underwear as if it were the most comfortable thing in the world.

(6,7)

Ahanu took a job at the mini mart where Eliza bought her cigarettes and likewise took her girlfriend out on the town to eat, play, and shop for clothes or groceries. By the end of the second month together, both women had completely updated their wardrobes and upgraded their living situations to accommodate another person better. Eliza had begun learning to cook from her aunt’s old cookbooks and was eating better and healthier than she ever had in her life, though most of the time she was more keen on ordering out and spending long nights watching tv and cuddling with her girl.  Ahanu was becoming a competent masseuse in her own right, finally deciding to take a semester of massage therapy when the current semester ended.

(8)

Kelsey too grew used to hanging out with Eliza, though it very quickly became apparent that she greatly disapproved of them smoking. Ahanu had become accustomed to the smell of cigarette smoke over time and had begun smoking at least twice a day whether Eliza was around or not. She didn’t think it was such a big deal, but Kelsey was uncharacteristically dramatic when it came to the smell of cigarettes. At first they thought that she just didn’t like the smell until she started darting to the bathroom to pretend to throw up every time they lit up or had just finished. Kelsey explained that she wasn’t trying to be rude and that it really did make her that nauseous, but Ahanu couldn’t help but feel like her reactions were far more exaggerated than was reasonable. Still, she tried to be as considerate of it as she could.

It made Ahanu sad to see how Kelsey had been looking at them in the past couple weeks. She knew that there’d been some kind of upset between Kelsey and her own crush and it had apparently turned bad. So bad, apparently that Kelsey insisted that she couldn’t talk to whoever it was with a look of terror on her face every time the subject came up. Even more than that, Ahanu realized, Kelsey seemed to be really messed up over it. She was skittish and stressed out, rarely leaving the dorms except to go to classes and come back. Kelsey wouldn’t talk about it either, leaving her friend in the dark and powerless to help while she and her girlfriend made googly eyes at each other right in plain sight.

“I feel so bad every time we hang out with her.” A concerned Ahanu told Eliza after they’d left from Kelsey’s place back to Eliza’s house. They went to wave goodbye and it dawned on Ahanu that she hadn’t seen her friend doing her regular exercises in a while. Her waist had softened up recently and her boobs had exploded in size due to what looked like ten extra pounds in less than a month.

(9)

“She looks so miserable.”

“Yehh.” Eliza said, popping another cookie bite into her mouth and taking a sip from a bloody mary she’d mixed herself. She was slightly tipsy and enjoying undressing her girlfriend with her eyes while doing her best to carry on the conversation.

(10)

“She’s getting’ fat too.”