Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Title: Trailer Park Commune (A Fargrove Story)

   by darkmpreg

   (mpreg, young, rape, fetus, labor, birth)
Summary:
Nature's Restway R.V.  Park was a haven for pedophiles even before the
apocalypse, but now life is a little more challenging as the community
works together to survive.  Dale, the owner and de-facto leader of the
commune, has purposefully kept his young son, Tommy, away from the sexual
exploitations of others (including himself), so when Tommy turns up
pregnant, Dale embarks on an investigation that could turn the commune on

its head.

   Chapter 1: Nature's Restway





   Dale was up at the butt crack of dawn, stomping around his RV, cleaning
up all the beer cans from the night before.  He was thirty without a gray
hair on his shaggy head, and the body of a college athlete.  His son, nine
year old Tommy, lay asleep naked in the back bed of the narrow cabin.  Dale
could hear him breathing as his little belly rose up and down.



   The sun glared at him from the eastern hills as he shuffled the trash
bag down the steps and out into the RV park they and several others had
chosen as their turf.  The morning birds sang gleefully at the prospect of
a new day.  Other recreational vehicles were parked along the circular
drive with a big, giant oak tree right in the middle surrounded by several
picnic tables.  Their little slice of serenity was encompassed by Texas
hills and flanked by the river which flowed steadily on southward.



   Things had changed since that nasty virus came several months ago.  The
fine folk here in Nature's Restway R.V.  Park endured the worst and came
out for the better.  When the virus swept through the country, Dale closed
down the Park from outsiders.  The people who remained in their little
commune today were the few that stayed put while the virus ravaged the
outside world.  They had grown into a tight-nit community who shared a love
for conversation, food, each other and God.  Dale was proud of what he had
created here and hoped it would last for years to come.



   Dale slung the trash bag over his shoulder as he passed Parson's
trailer. Parson himself was sitting on his lawn chair with his back toward
the dawning sun, beer in his hand.  He looked like he'd been there all
night.  He had a straw cowboy hat on -- one of those cheap ones you find at
the gas station -- and old striped boxers.  He was maybe thirty-five with a
gut on him that grew by the day.  Dale knew one thing for certain: he sure
as hell wasn't the father.



   "Don't ya ever sleep, Parson?"



   "Nah," he honked like a goose.  "Sleep's for pussies."



   Dale snorted.  "Guess ya can count me as one of them cause I slept like
a babe all night."



   "Bet your boy did, too."



   "That he did."



   "Say," said Parson, then gestured toward a black trash bag full to
busting.  "Can you...."



   "...Yeah, I'll get your trash, you lazy shit," sighed Dale.  It wasn't
the first time.  He went around, collected the bag and slung it over his
shoulder with the other one.  "Wouldn't want you to strain yourself in your
present condition."



   Parson laughed and slapped his hairy gut.  "I told ya," he shouted after
Dale as went along the circular drive.  "This is beer's work!  Ain't no
baby in here."



   The next lot had two trailers on it parked parallel so their doors
opened out towards each other, creating a hallway between them where a
picnic table was.  Ranger built a canopy to cover the corridor between the
trailers and his wife, Ginger, had decorated it with all sorts of baubles
and trinkets and animal skulls.  She was one of those spiritual hippy types
who believed in God and spirits and in the power of nature.  She was up
early this morning grilling breakfast for her husband and their ten year
old twins, Jamie and James, who were best friends with Dale's son.  Like
Parson, Ginger was about ready pop.  She had her shirt tied into a knot
beneath her breasts with her giant belly hanging low in front of her.  She
didn't have but one or two stretch marks.  Dale was never much attracted to
women but there was something alluring about the way Ginger moved her hips
and sang and smiled.



   "Morning, Dale!" she waved at him.  "You're looking good this morning."



   "So are you, Ginger," said Dale, still carrying the trash as he paused.
"Thought you'd for sure have that baby while we all slept last night."



   The red headed woman giggled and swiped femininely at the air.  "Oh
darling, when I have my baby there won't be no one sleeping."



   A man came out into the covered walkway, shirtless, and wrapped his
hands behind Ginger's pregnant belly and nuzzled her neck.  Ranger was a
muscular guy in his late twenties.  The two of them were high school
sweethearts who had the twins their senior year.  "Trust me, Dale, she's
telling the truth.  She sounded like a whore getting pounded when she gave
birth."



   Ginger giggled mirthfully as she reached around behind her and slapped
him on the ass.



   "You be as loud as ya want," said Dale.  "Whatever you need from us,
you'll get.  Even if it's just some good old fashioned encouragement."



   "You're sweet, darling," said Ginger, tending the grill as Ranger groped
her tits beneath her thin shirt.  Her nipples were hard.  "You know we'd be
nowhere without you.  Come have a bite of this deer sausage, tell me what
ya think."



   Dale came over with his trash bags and Ginger pushed the meat into his
mouth.  It was flavorful and juicy.  "Reminds me of my Mike's," he said,
thinking of his partner who had been working over in Fargrove at the time
of the virus.  When the virus came and Mike didn't return, Dale knew his
worst nightmare had come true.



   Ranger continued stroking Ginger's bulbous stomach as she scrambled up
the eggs.  "Got plenty still left," he said.  "The freezer's working
miracles around here."



   "Sure does make life easier," said Dale.  A few months ago Ranger had
scavenged a large solar panel from a nearby town and set it up on a
makeshift wooden stand on the southern hill.  He had installed them for a
living before the world took a dump, traveling all around the country to
set them up for the rich people who could afford them.  The panel provided
enough power for all of their RVs.  They had to use gasoline for other
things, and they had been building up a stockpile of reserve gas for their
vehicles thanks to one of the residents, Vance, who knew how to siphon gas
like it was a profession.



   James, the ten year old boy, came down from RV in his batman underwear
and stood by the grill, rubbing his pregnant belly hungrily.  "Me and my
baby's hungry," said the child who was roughly five months along.  On a
child young as him it looked like he was about ready to give birth, like
his mother.  He was short for his age, so his belly went straight out from
his sternum and curved right back where his underwear stretched tightly
around his hips.  His navel was engorged and red as if someone had been
sucking on it.



   "Morning James," said Dale.  "How're you feeling today?"



   "Sore."



   Ranger laughed as he went around and slid James' underwear down his
scrawny little legs before scooping him up and setting him down on the
picnic table behind them.  James squealed and began to cry, kicking his
feet.  "I don't want to right now, daddy!  It still hurts from last night."



   "The more you cry," said Ranger, pushing him down on the table and
pulling out his ten inch cock.  The boy's belly rose up between them.  "The
more I'll make you cry.  You know the rules."



   Jame's twin sister, Jamie, peaked out from the trailer to watch.  She
wasn't pregnant yet -- girls matured slower than the boys.



   Ginger turned to Dale while her husband began fucking their son behind
them and said, "Oh would you mind taking our trash while you're at it,
darling?"



   "Yes, ma'am," said Dale cheerily.  "I would love to."



   "We'd be lost without you, Dale," she winked.



   Three trash bags later, Dale left Ranger to his family and passed the
other quiet trailers whose residents were sleeping.  He climbed up the hill
at a brisk pace.  He and Mike had kept up with their bodies for as long as
Dale could remember, and Mike's death had only given him incentive to keep
the tradition going.



   With a swing, he tossed the bags into the huge pile and looked out over
the horizon.  Texas sprawled every which way around him; rocky hills and
trees sloping gracefully along the curves of the earth.  The golden dawn
turned his muscled physique burnished red as he shielded his eyes and stood
there for a while observing all the land God had given their little trailer
commune.  God was good.



   On the way the back, Vance had gotten up and was sitting in his boxer
briefs with a wife beater on and a cigarette in his hand.  The lawn chair
squeaked underneath him as he coughed fumes into the morning light.



   "Morning, Vance," said Dale.



   Vance stared at him with tired, dead eyes and took another drag.  A
sixteen year old boy came out naked from Vance's run-down trailer. 
Clarence was a refugee from Fargrove after the fires burned it down.  He
and his mother had survived the virus only to have their house go up in
flames.  From the way Clarence told it, it sounded like his mother got
trapped upstairs.  The teenager found his way here by accident and Dale and
the community had taken him in.  And now he was sleeping with Vance and had
the first signs of pregnancy.  He had only the slightest curve to his gut.



   "Clarence," stated Dale by way of greeting.  "You look a little green."



   "Fuck you, Dale," said Clarence, stealing Vance's cigarette and choking
down the nicotine.



   Dale left the two of them to their mutual misery and passed by Ranger
and his family who were eating breakfast.  Pregnant James was sitting on
Ranger's cock as they ate at the table and his father's big hands encircled
the boy's belly, probing for baby movement.  Dale would never know how
Ranger could fit all ten inches into that boy without damaging him or his
baby.



   The sight was not unusual for Dale.  Nature's Restway RV Park was in
fact a secret destination for people like Ranger.  Dale and Mike ran it for
their boss who had several of them scattered around the U.S..  For years
since they got involved with the park they had seen pregnant children
arrive with their parents from all over Texas and beyond to participate in
orgies with other likeminded families.  It wasn't something Dale or Mike
wanted for their own son, but they had no qualms with others doing it.



   Ginger waved at him to come over and join them but Dale politely
refused. He would make a hearty breakfast for him and Tommy once the boy
woke up.  James was still crying as he tried to eat while Ranger was
fucking him on his lap.  The boy's pregnancy was already so huge ...  Dale
was worried that he may not be able to give birth if the baby continued
growing at this rate.



   In Dale's own meager little trailer Tommy was still sleeping soundly. 
The nine year old had been sleeping harder than usual lately.  Dale sat
down beside him, looking at his naked son with love in his eyes.  He
remembered when his boyfriend was pregnant with him nine years ago; Tommy
was so active even from the very beginning when he was just a little bump
inside Mike's belly.  They made endless love throughout the pregnancy until
Tommy popped out unexpectedly during rough lovemaking with Dale's cum
dripping down his pink forehead.  Dale rushed them both to the hospital,
afraid he had somehow harmed his budding family.  But they were fine and
later it made for a funny story.



   The sunlight strayed in through the open window and illuminated Tommy's
figure.  His hair was nut brown like both of his daddies and his eyes were
blue as a summer's day -- a trait he had gotten from Dale.  He had a little
belly on him like most kids his age do as the baby fat tried to cling to
him.



   Dale reached over to stroke Tommy's face when movement inside Tommy's
stomach caught his eye.  Something bulged outward slightly -- just like
Tommy had done in Mike's womb.



   He leaned back, unsure of whether or not what he had seen was real.  A
minuscule nudge and then a hard lump appeared a few inches under his son's
flat navel and Dale knew his son was pregnant, somehow, at barely nine
years of age.  The bulging belly wasn't baby fat -- it was a baby.



   It felt like someone had punched him in the face.



   He had kept his son from the sexual activities of the other families and
never once touched his son in that way.



   Which means someone else had.

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