Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Chapter 2 Whodunnit?

   (mpreg, birth, young, labor, pregnant, rape, fetus)

   When Ranger was finished with breakfast, he went inside his RV, sat on
the couch and made James come and squat on his lap.  He helped the
unwilling pregnant child sit so that his belly rubbed against his father's
chest as Ranger pounded into him.  James cried as his father buried ten
inches of steel deep into him and whimpered when the tip crushed against
the sensitive cervix at the end of his tunnel.  Luckily, his cervix had
proved to be quite durable or else his father's invading cock would have
aborted the fetus a long time ago.



   James could feel the thick length plowing into him, filling up his
already cramped insides.  He had been trained since he was even younger
than he was now to take it all, but even his conditioning didn't stop the
pain.  His ten years old pregnant body was at his father's mercy, and
lately Ranger had been ravenous.



   The baby inside him bounced as if it were on a trampoline and Ranger
could see the fetus ricocheting against the walls of his son's womb.  James
had such a tight little hole and it took tremendous skill to not spurt
prematurely.  Ranger's arms encircled James' tiny waist and crushed his
firm chest against his son's pregnancy, cherishing the feeling of power he
had over two young lives.



   It hadn't been a surprise when James became pregnant.  Both Ranger and
Ginger had hoped to get him pregnant at an even younger age, but James
simply didn't mature as quick as they wanted.  The idea of having their
beloved son hugely pregnant at seven or eight endlessly excited them.  The
pregnancy and the baby would have to live off the grid, of course, away
from the eyes of the law.  That's why they came here to Nature's Restway,
so that once James' belly started swelling up they could be among
likeminded families.  He may not be seven or eight anymore, but a pregnant
ten year old would do.



   As the boys fucked on the couch, Ginger finished with the dishes and
leaned against the counter to watch.  Her hand crawled beneath her full
term pregnancy and into her yoga shorts.  She loved how rough her husband
was with their son, dominating his pregnant form just like he dominated
hers.  Inside her gigantic stomach, her baby responded to her self-pleasure
by giving a huge kick off to the side that nearly took her breath away.



   Ranger had been watching her.  "I saw that, honey."



   "The baby wants to be next," she said, rubbing her hand over the spot
the baby was kicking.  "You think you got enough for your wifey?"



   "Always."



   After a few more minutes of intense fucking, Ranger made James climb off
and suck his cock.  The child dutifully knelt between his dad's hairy legs
and took as much cock as he could stomach down his throat until he gagged.
Ranger's eruption was no joke; James had chug it down to keep his mouth
from filling up with gooey substance.



   "That's right, feed my baby daddy's seed," said Ranger.



   Just then, Vance appeared at the doorway of their camper, knocking
despite the door being open.  He surveyed the scene and groped his erection
that was forming in his shorts.  "Yo, Ranger, got a minute?"



   "Come in here," said Ranger, finishing his last ejaculation.  James'
eyes were watering as he swallowed the remainder of jizz.  The RV smelled
like sex and sweat.  Ranger got up and motioned for Vance to take his
place.



   "What is it?" said Vance, plopping down on the couch.



   "My son needs some moisturizer for his belly," said Ranger.  "Help him
out."



   Vance nodded and grinned toward the boy who looked like he might cry. 
"Sure, I can definitely do that for you," he said as he unbuttoned his
shorts and pulled down his boxers to reveal a healthy seven inches.  "Suck
me off, bitch."



   James looked hesitantly at his father.



   "Do as he says, James."



   The boy wiped his wet mouth with the back of his hand before he knelt in
front of Vance and started sucking him off.  He was actually pretty good at
it, thought Vance.  Not all little boys are.



   While James kept Vance occupied, Ranger turned to his wife and started
fucking her pregnant pussy as hard as he could despite her full term belly
hanging in the way.  He pushed her womb up and out of the way as he took
her right there on the counter.  The baby protested inside but Ranger
didn't care about his future child's safety.  He wouldn't care much about
it at all until it reached a fuckable age.



   Moans and screams drifted out of the RV, filling the park with their
sounds of pleasure.  It was just another day in Nature's Restway.



   <>



   While Ranger and Vance had their fun, Dale and Tommy were sitting under
their camper's patio awning eating scrambled eggs.  They watched in silence
as the chickens roamed the grass in front of them, pecking at grasshoppers
and worms.  When Dale finished, he sat back in his seat, observing as his
son filled his plate with a second serving.  The boy's appetite had gone
through the roof as of late.



   Tommy was a handsome boy.  Everyone always said so, even when he was a
baby.  As it turned out, someone in camp had thought so too.



   Pregnant.



   His little boy was pregnant.



   He tried so hard not to let this happen.  Dale, like the others who came
to Nature's Restway, had no reservations about consensually making love to
children -- but he had always given Tommy the choice, and Tommy had always
said he wasn't ready.  He was afraid of sex and afraid of growing a baby in
his tummy like his little friend James, as he rightfully should be. 
Getting pregnant and having kids was a scary thing.  It certainly had been
for Dale and Mike, even at the age of twenty-one.  But at nine years old?
Nine was simply too young and too dangerous.  He could lose his one and
only son if things went badly.



   "What's the matter, Daddy?" said the boy with a mouthful of food.  His
voice was squeaky like a mouse.



   Dale wondered how he should broach the issue.  "Well, son.  I want to
ask you something, and I want you to be honest with me."



   Tommy took a sip of clean drinking water.  He looked slightly worried.
"Am I in trouble for something?"



   Dale sat forward and rubbed at his forehead.  "No, son, you ain't in no
trouble." He stopped, trying to formulate how to tactfully ask his son who
knocked him up.  "I just ...  has anyone ...  touched you recently?  It's
okay if they have, I just want to know." That was a lie.  It wasn't okay
that he had been touched, but scaring him would be counter productive.



   "Touched me?" he asked, his voice full of confusion.



   "Yes," said Dale.  "You know how James' dad touches him?  With his
pecker, and all...?"



   "Ain't no one touched me like that, Daddy," said Tommy who had been
raised to tell the truth, and though he had slipped a few times growing up
Dale always knew when he was lying.  "How come you ask?"



   Dale stared at his son for a few seconds, measuring his behavior.  "I
was just curious.  It's my job to make sure you're safe, kiddo, and if
someone's touched you without your permission you need to tell me."



   A moment passed between them before Tommy, again, said, "I'll tell you,
Daddy, I promise."



   He stood up, sighed heavily, placed both palms on the table and leaned
toward the boy.  "You're lying to me."



   A look fear settled in Tommy's eyes and his lips began to quiver.  "I
wasn't lying, I promise!  It's the truth, I swear it!  I swear, I swear, I
swear!"



   "Saying it over and over again don't make it true, Tommy," said Dale,
his voice growing hard.  "Who touched you, son?  Tell me who touched you
and you won't get in trouble."



   "NOBODY!" he screamed, eyes full of tears.  He got up and ran inside the
camper and barricaded himself behind the bathroom door.



   "God dammit, Tommy!" he shouted after him.  Tommy was in a fragile state
and Dale knew he had to tread carefully.  He sat back down in his chair and
pinched the bridge of his nose between his eyes, wondering if yelling had
only made things worse.  Maybe Tommy really was telling the truth.  What if
someone had touched him in his sleep, or drugged him?  He doesn't even seem
to know he's pregnant.



   "Fuck," he sighed as he listened to Tommy crying from inside the camper.



   Approaching footsteps brought him back to the present.  He looked up to
find Ranger heading his way.  His hair was messed up in that `just had sex'
kind of way and he was wiping the sweat from his face with a rag.



   "Everything all right over here, Dale?" he asked.  He had a cold bottle
of Bud Light cracked open, fresh from his solar-powered refrigerator. 
Tattoos coiled out of his muscle tee and down his hardened arms.



   "Yeah," said Dale, rising to clean up breakfast.  "Tommy's just going
through something at the moment."



   Ranger nodded, scratching his thick beard while Dale washed the dishes
off in a tub of soap water.  "Wanna talk about it?"



   "Not here," said Dale.  "Later."



   "Okay, well I have to run into town and get a few thing for Ginger and
the kids," said Ranger.  "I fuck her good and hard and afterwards she
rewards me by sending me to the damn store.  It must be a real marriage,
huh?



   "Sounds about right."



   "Vance is coming with me, but I need a real wingman.  What do ya say?"



   "Sure," answered Dale.  "But Tommy's coming with us."



   "No problem," said the other man as he turned to head back toward his
camper.  "I'll meet you out by my truck."



   Inside his RV, Dale had to use a toothpick to unlock the bathroom door.
Tommy was sitting on the lid of the toilet seat with his eyes red and his
nose running.  He flinched away from his father as though he were about to
get a whipping, but one never came.



   "I'm sorry I yelled at you, Tommy," said Dale in a gentle voice,
squatting so that he had to look up at the boy's face.  "I was just hoping
you'd tell me the truth.  We don't tell lies to each other now do we? 
Remember what your dad-da used to say?"



   Tears welled in his eyes at the mention of his other father whom he
dearly missed.  "We don't lie to each other, no matter what."



   "That's right." Dale rubbed at Tommy's knee.  "So is there anything you
need to tell me?"



   "I promise ain't no one's touched me, Daddy," said Tommy.  "I'm sure of
it."



   There was no lie in his voice.  "You have no memories of being touched?
None at all?"



   Tommy shook his head.  "No, Daddy, none."



   Dale's heart fell.  His son had been unknowingly raped.  Someone had
knocked him out and knocked him up, and whoever it was would pay dearly. 
"I'm sorry I didn't believe you before.  Forgive me?"



   The boy nodded and cried with relief as he wrapped his hands around his
father's neck.  Dale carried him out of the bathroom and tossed him gently
on the couch before tickling him all over.  The tears were instantly
forgotten as Tommy kicked and squealed while his father snorted into his
neck.  When they caught their breath, Dale gave Tommy a serious look. 
"Just remember, if anyone does touch you, scream as loud as you can and
call for me.  Got it?  I'll be there."



   "Got it."



   "Okay," said Dale.  "Now go pick out a shirt for you and me and let's
hit the road.  We're riding with Ranger into town for supplies."



   "Yippee!" said Tommy, skipping into the back room.



   His belly wasn't large yet, Dale thought.  If the baby was able to kick
hard enough to be seen from the outside, that meant he was at least four
months.  He began to think of all the possible candidates of his son's
rape. Daniel and Clarence were ruled out.  They had only just arrived a
couple months ago from Fargrove.  The next thing to look for would be who
was using the park's store of medication to drug his son.  They had one
abandoned RV trailer full of meds that they raided from the local pharmacy
months back.  Only Dale had the key to it.



   He got up and opened one of the small cabinets.  The key was right there
right next to his pistol.  He pocketed the pistol while he was thinking
about it and returned to his thoughts.  Four to five months ago, several
people used their store of medicine.  Vance, for certain.  He was plagued
by headaches and occasionally needed sleep meds.  Could sleep medication be
used to drug his son?  Dale didn't rule it out, but he also remembered that
Ranger had also taken sleep medication from their stockpile.  And that old
man, Mr.  Rick, had been sick at that time and needed the key to treat
himself.



   Everyone was suspect.  Even Ranger, who was at the bottom of Dale's list
of most likely people to have drugged and raped Tommy.  But even then,
everyone had seen how Ranger lusts after his pregnant son.  It wouldn't be
a stretch to assume-



   "My shirts are getting tight, Daddy," said Tommy, coming into the cabin
with his belly hanging out slightly from beneath the little muscle shirt.
"I'm getting fat, ain't I?  Look at my tummy." He lifted up his shirt and
cupped his bloated middle with both hands.  Dale had to admit that Tommy
made for a cute pregnant boy.  He thought the same of James, but James was
an annoying brat eighty percent of the time.  It was no wonder Ranger was
constantly punishing him.  Dale hoped none of that behavior would rub off
on Tommy.



   "Don't worry about it." Dale wondered how long it would be until Tommy
realized he was pregnant like James.  "We'll get you some bigger ones when
we head into town."



   "I picked out your shirt with the guitar on it," said Tommy, handing
over the adult sized shirt to his dad.  "Dad-da said he always liked that
one on you."



   Dale kissed his son on the head.  "Cause it's blue.  He liked blue."



   <>



   The highway was a trail of tombs.  Whether you were in a Ford or a Chevy
or whether you were black or white, the virus got you just the same.  And
by the time you were dead, it had jumped through the air to five others. 
It was a wonder Dale and so many others survived.  The trailer park was a
good distance outside of Redville, the nearest town, and had the luxury of
being isolated far away from the virus's path of destruction.  When the
radio and the news had first begun reporting on the outbreak overseas and
on the east coast of the U.S., Dale brought it to everyone's attention.  It
was lucky that he did because it gave them all time to move empty campers
to block the road leading into the park and secure themselves from the
outside world.



   Presently, Ranger steered his F-150 off to the side of the highway and
into the ditch where he and the others had created a new road in the dirt.
It was bumpy and they had to go slow, but it would have been slower to
weave through the graveyard of cars.  Dale used to be bothered by all the
corpses sitting behind the wheels.  Their desiccated bodies -- now mostly
skeletal -- seemed like something out of a movie rather than real life.  He
had even grown used to the smell.



   "Eventually," said Ranger, steering the truck through the makeshift
trail.  "We should get a team together and comb through these cars for
supplies.  Never know what kind of junk we could use."



   Dale nodded as he looked in the rearview mirror at Tommy and Vance who
were riding contently in the truck bed.  Vance wasn't saying anything, only
looking off into the passing woods.  Tommy was watching the clouds. 
"Yeah."



   Ranger looked at him.  "So, you gonna tell me what's going on with your
boy?"



   Everyone is suspect, Dale reminded himself.  Even Ranger.  He stared
over at the man, taking in his reaction when he said, "You know who might
be sleeping with my boy?"



   First, Ranger's eyebrows knitted and his lips scowled.  "Someone's
sleeping with your boy without your permission?" Secondly, his fists
gripped tightly around the steering wheel.  "He ain't knocked up, is he?"



   Dale gave one nod.  "Yep, and Tommy don't even know it yet himself."



   "He won't tell you who done it?"



   "Oh, he told me," said Dale.  "Said it was you."



   "Now hold on one second," said Ranger.  "I've been living at your park
for a while now.  I've never once broken the rules, have I?  Give me one
time I ever stepped on your toes."



   "Never," said Dale.  "That's why I was surprised when your name came out
of his mouth."



   "Shit, Dale," said Ranger, his voice changing octaves into something
more pitiable.  "I'm sorry to say it, but your boy's lying, cause I ain't
ever touched him in any way.  I got a nympho wife and two little ones to
entertain my cravings.  The day I ever touch your son without your
permission is the day I go to hell.  I swear on our friendship, Dale."



   After Ranger's spiel, Dale looked out the window at the passing trees.
"I believe you, Ranger.  But someone did."



   "Did Tommy really say it was me?"



   Dale shook his head.  "Just testing you, man.  I didn't think it was you
but I had to be sure anyway."



   "Fuck, Dale," said Ranger.  "I thought we was friends."



   "Ain't no reason why we can't remain as such.  But I need help finding
whoever did it."



   "I'll help in any way I can, brother," said Ranger.  "But you should've
trusted me."



   <>



   In Daniel's dreams, he was back in that burning building, trapped and
unable to get out.  The upper floor was caving in as shotgun blasts shook
the world.  A spray of scatter destroyed the wall beside him as he wriggled
through a tight section of debris and into an unburnt corridor.  Heavy,
eye-burning smoke choked his pained lungs as he ran down the empty hallway,
leaving Lucky and everyone else behind.  The door was locked.  The heat
threatened to scorch his back.  His hands fumbled the locks.  He lifted his
shirt to cover his mouth.  The world was spinning and he felt lightheaded.
There was no oxygen left to breathe.



   The door opened and he ran into the night beneath the open stars.  Red
smoke drifted south in the wind as he filled his burning lungs with air. 
He ran for as long as his pregnant body would let him, until his sides
cramped and his legs turned to jello.  Fargrove burned behind him along
with the last few people in the world that he knew.  It seemed like it was
one apocalypse after the other, each one leaving him more and more alone.



   He went east, scavenging for food and water.  The howling of wolves
forced him into the Texas wilderness.  For days he lived like this.  A
fugitive.  A survivalist.  He was a month alone and a month more pregnant.
As his stomach grew, so did his appetite.  Daniel finally came out of the
woods and into Redville just east of Fargrove.  A muscular guy with tattoos
down his arms found him in the local abandoned Walmart eating Doritos.



   Somehow, Daniel had ended up with people just like himself.  Lucky would
have liked it here.  He would have taken control over these people --
especially those kids -- and made them his.



   In his dreams, Lucky was still alive.  He would bend Daniel over and
fuck him so hard that he would bleed and scream and cum forever.



   And when he awoke, he was always alone in the RV they had let him live
in.



   He was eight months pregnant now and Lucky's baby was huge.  It was true
what the others said; Lucky did make big babies.  The fetus tossed and
turned in his womb, wanting desperately to be born.  Daniel didn't like
babies, but he liked this one.  It was all that he had left of the man who
so lovingly abused him.  He rubbed at his full stomach, cradling it, as it
changed shapes beneath his hands.



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