Wombs as Reparations — Chapter 13
- Hello, and welcome to the Mixed Pregnancy Stories publication. This article is Chapter 13 of a series called “Wombs as Reparations,” an erotic story about a sweet, young girl and her journey towards racial, and sexual liberation. If you haven’t read Chapter 1, you can do so by.
- Harold was sitting on the couch at Stephanie’s house, playing an intense video game.
- “Shit!” he cried, slamming his controller down on the coffee table.
- “What’s wrong, babe?” she asked from the kitchen, turning the oven off.
“I keep getting my ass kicked. I hate this game!”
- “Well, why don’t you stop playing?” she replied, carefully turning around to grab the pasta. Cooking was a struggle since her bump kept knocking things over.
“Not yet. One more game,” he grunted, reaching back for the controller.
- “Uh-huh,” she muttered while wiping pasta off her shirt. She spilled a bit of tomato sauce into her cleavage. What a blonde.
Stephanie waddled over to the couch and plopped down next to Harold.
- “Is it hot in here to you?” she asked as she lifted her shirt up, exposing her humongous bare belly.
“Probably just hormones. Plus, you just cooked spaghetti, so the heat is dispersing throughout the apartment,” he replied without breaking focus from the game.
“Oh yeah, that’s right.”
- Stephanie wondered why Harold wasn’t giving her as much attention lately. Was he mad? Is she getting fat? Well, her tummy is getting bigger by the day, but the rest of her body is as slim as ever.
Suddenly, her stomach started to rumble. It sounded like an earthquake mixed with a tsunami.
- “Wow, somebody’s hungry,” remarked Harold, putting his hand on her belly.
For some reason, this disgusted Stephanie, and she brushed his hand away. This wasn’t even his baby. What gives him the right to touch her body like that?
“What was that? Are you okay?” he turned to ask.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just hormones. I don’t know….”
- “Something’s up. You’ve been really… weird around me lately. Any time I go to hug you or feel the baby move, you seem like you’re in pain. It’s like you don’t even want to be around me.” he went on.
Deep down, she knew he was right. She just felt repulsed by his presence without knowing why. It grew worse by the week. She could hardly stand to sit next to him now.
- “I’m just tired and moody and feel terrible. I’m growing a human being inside me, okay? Can you cut me some slack?!”
“Oh geez, I didn’t mean to-”
Suddenly the front door flung open.
“Stephanie?!”
Oh no. It was her dad.
“Stephanie, stand up this instant!”
- Oh god. He knew. She had no idea how, but he knew his own daugher was pregnant.
Even though her heart was beating 1,000 times per second, she struggled to get up and turn towards her father. Her protruding pregnant belly was pointing right towards the man who was supposed to protect her, evidence that she had been deflowered out of wedlock.
- Stephanie’s dad glanced at her big belly, and horror quickly turned to rage. He demanded to know who did it.
Then his gaze turns towards Harold. The father moved towards him with his fists clenched and started breathing faster and faster.
- “Did you do this?!” he demanded, gesturing towards his daughter’s baby bump.
Harold’s eyes were wide, and he couldn’t stop shaking. He glanced over at Stephanie, who was slouching behind daddy. She was mouthing the word “yes,” begging him to thrust himself on the sword.
- The trembling college kid thought for a moment, then begrudgingly nodded his head.
Her dad flipped out and started cursing Harold and even pushed him against the wall.
- “Daddy, don’t hurt him! Please!” Shelby cried out, waddling over to tug his arm.
“How the hell could you be so fucking stupid?!” The young man apologized profusely, hardly able to maintain eye contact.
- “How could this happen? My own flesh and blood…” he cried with his face buried in his hands. “You’re not ready for this. Neither of you is ready for this….”
Then the father demanded the two get married. “There will be no bastard in my family, I’ll tell you that! Isn’t that right, young man?” he decreed, glaring daggers at Harold.
“Y-yes, sir.”
- “Good. I hope you’re on a scholarship, boy, because babies cost more than 10 damn college degrees!” replied her father.
Then he turned towards her daughter. “You and I are going to have a long talk real soon. Do you understand me?”
- “Yes, daddy,” she said with tears in her eyes, running in to hug him.
Instantly his anger vanished as the two embraced. Although he wasn’t happy about the situation, he always had a soft spot for his little princess.
- As Steph’s father started to walk out, he turned around and said, “Well, it could be worse. At least you’re not messing around with those colored boys.”
Stephanie felt enraged at such an evil expression but kept herself calm and composed before replying, “Oh, I’d never do that, daddy.” She looked down at her big round belly and gave it a few pats before continuing. “Someone has to carry on the family legacy.”
- Finally, her dad shut the door behind him, leaving Stephanie alone with her now soon-to-be husband.
“Uh… Stephanie.” began Harold.
- After locking the door and wiping a few tears away, she turned towards her now husband-to-be, her belly knocking over a lamp in the process.
“Here, I got it,” he continued, grabbing a broom and dustpan. “You and I both know that baby isn’t mine. What are we going to tell everyone?”
“I don’t know,” she replied, racking her brain for ideas.
- As Harold continued to clean the mess, he stopped. “Wait a minute. You… got pregnant from a Black guy, didn’t you.”
She was so nervous that her throat closed up. After a few seconds of deciding whether or not to tell the truth, Harold answered for her.
- “Well, that’s just perfect. Everyone will know someone else got my wife pregnant first. I don’t care about race because I’m not racist. In fact, I love diversity. But it’s going to be obvious, you know?”
After some thought, she replied, “Well, would you do it for me?”
- Harold stood up. “Do it for you? A woman who dumped me once came back once she got knocked up by some other guy? And now she’s pressuring me to get married against my will? All because some racist old man doesn’t want to ruin his reputation?!”
She nodded, tears welling up again.
Ten seconds of silence went by, feeling like an eternity.
“Well, I guess… I do,” he said with a hopeful smirk.
- Stephanie embraced him with a deep passion she had not felt in years. She even kissed him for such a heroic act of selflessness. Her stomach was pressed up against his own beer belly (thanks to that freshman fifteen).
“We’ll make a lovely couple, won’t we?” she said, twirling his hair with her fingers.
- “Absolutely. Maybe someday, you’ll get one of these because of me,” he replied while patting her pregnant belly.
She blushed. “Maybe if you play your cards right. But first, you’ll need a bit of practice.”
That’s when the first piece of clothing fell to the floor.
- Thank you for reading Chapter 13 of Wombs as Reparations! We couldn’t do this without your passion and support, and if you’d like to get notified when we post the next chapter, feel free to follow us!
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