Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 The Politics of Men

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



   The river flowed a brackish green past the rushes of the muddy shore. 
James, Jamie, and Tommy stood ankle deep in the cool water with their
fishing poles and nets.  The identical twins' hair color was a cross
between Ranger's brown and Ginger's red, and their bright green eyes
glinted off the water like emeralds under a jeweler's light.  Jamie stood
off to the side away from the boys, dragging her hand-held net through the
water in an effort to catch minnows.



   Several of the adults were sitting in chairs, laying out on towels on
the bank, or swimming several dozen feet away, laughing and carrying on
with themselves as they consumed liquor and beer.  Ginger was smoking a
cigarette as Ranger fingered her with his massive hands.  He was kissing on
her belly and drinking straight from his bottle of scotch.  There was a
purple bruise on her cheek.



   Vance was in the water with Clarence, holding each other close in their
alcohol-induced romance.  It wasn't often they got along so well; only in
the preliminary stages of drunkenness.  Later, Vance would be inebriated
beyond rationality and the yelling would begin; at Clarence or anyone else
who got near him.  That was the pattern.  That was how it's always been
with Vance and alcohol.



   Dale and Daniel were sitting next to each other in fold out chairs,
laughing and talking.  Every now and then Dale would touch Daniel's stomach
as they watched and felt for the baby's kicking.  His stomach had hardened
into an asymmetrical ball with a giant lump at the top and protrusions
around the navel where the baby commandeered space inside its father's
womb. It wasn't clear if Dale had any interest in Daniel beyond
conversation, but they seemed to be enjoying themselves well enough.



   Mr.  Rick was fully hilted inside Parson on a blanket in the grass,
saying pervy things.  If Parson's big belly wasn't the result of a
pregnancy, it soon would be.



   James and Tommy stood in their shorts with their bellies hanging over
the tops of them and kiddie fishing poles in their hands.  It had been a
couple of days since Dale, Ranger, Vance and Tommy went scavenging in town.
The kid-sized rods were part of the loot they brought home.  The adults had
picked up a whole truck bed full of liquor, bottled water, and countless
bags of chips and cookies and other treats that had yet to spoil thanks to
America's endless fascination with preservatives.



   The two boys were raised with fishing poles in their hands and so far
Tommy had caught two small perch and James was getting frustrated as he
reeled his bobber in without even so much as a single nibble.



   "The fish are being STUPID today," he announced, replacing the dead worm
with a fresh one he produced from a pocket.  "These worms must taste awful
cause they don't want to eat it."



   "They like mine," said Tommy, his blue eyes glinting with juvenile
pride. His hair was unruly today and hung in his eyes.  He had a feeling
his father would be dragging him to Ginger for a haircut soon.



   James turned to his sister.  "Jamie, go catch us more worms," he said,
casting his fishing pole upstream as far as the short line would go.  The
red-white bobber began its drift down the slow current.



   "Okay," agreed the girl, happily taking her net toward the riverbank and
scouring the mud for wriggling worms..



   "She'll do anything I tell her," said the boy, grinning at Tommy.  "Dad
says that women are always supposed to do what men tell them to do.  It's
in the Bible."



   "It is?" said Tommy, reeling in his line.



   "Uh-huh," the boy said.  "If my mom doesn't do what my dad says, my dad
hits her.  He hit her yesterday because she said she was too tired to do
laundry."



   Tommy raised his eyebrows as high as they would go.  "Dang.  But she's
got a baby in her."



   James shrugged animatedly.  "So do I," he said, poking his stomach which
was turning red in the afternoon sunlight.  "But my dad still hits me and
does me real hard.  Your daddy doesn't do you very much does he?"



   "No ..." said Tommy, hesitantly.  "Never.  He says I can choose if I
want him to do that to me, but I don't know.  I've had lots of friends who
said it hurts, and then their tummies get real huge like your mom's or
Daniel's and a baby comes out of their butts."



   James reached over and patted Tommy's small swelling stomach.  "I
thought your dad must have done you cause your tummy is getting round.  You
sure he didn't put a baby in there?"



   Indeed, there was a roundness on the nine year old child that in the
last couple of days was becoming more definite on his skinny body.  "No ...
my dad says that a man has to put his hose inside your butt in order to
become pregnant," said Tommy, rubbing his belly.  "And he's never done
that, so no way."



   "Maybe you're just getting fat," said James, whose own pregnant stomach
dwarfed the size of Tommy's.  The skin of his belly was so tight that it
looked painful.



   "Maybe," agreed Tommy, feeling slightly self-conscious now.  "So, what's
it like being pregnant?"



   James thought for a moment.  "Um, kinda like being really full with
pizza, except the pizza doesn't come out until a lot of months later." He
pushed at his baby bump, trying to get the baby to move.  The baby must
have been asleep.



   "I don't ever wanna be pregnant."



   Just then, Tommy's fishing pole jerked so hard that he fell forward onto
his knees with a splash.  "Whoa!!" he gasped, pulling back on the rod with
all of his strength.  "Help!" he shouted, realizing the fish was pulling
him along the riverbed.



   James threw down his own rod into the water and grabbed hold of Tommy's
shoulders to steady him so that his friend didn't drown, but whatever was
on the hook was pulling them both through the muddy bottom of the river. 
"Don't let go!" James shouted, despite their losing battle.  The kiddy pole
bent into the water as the creature on the other end of the line fought for
release.



   Tommy's call for help didn't go unnoticed; Dale was rushing at a
blinding speed into the shallows of the river.  The other adults
momentarily paused from their debauched pleasure-seeking to watch Dale help
Tommy reel in what would most assuredly be the biggest catch of the day. 
James moved out of the way as Dale sank on his bottom into the ankle-deep
water behind his son, reaching over his shoulders to help Tommy stabilize
the rod.  He wrapped either of his legs around Tommy, anchoring him in
place.



   "Whoa buddy, you got a big one!" said Dale, maneuvering his big hand
over the tiny hands of his son's.  "Don't let go of the handle or you'll
lose him!  Keep your fingers moving against the pressure, like this.  Yep.
Pull the rod gently back and tug a little." Dale was giddy as he helped his
son slowly bring in the prize.  The fish was thrashing against the line,
threatening to escape.  Dale's biceps bulged as he fought to keep the rod
from leaving his son's hands.



   "Come on, Tommy!" encouraged James, jumping up and down as much as his
belly would allow.



   "Catch us some dinner, tiger!" shouted Ranger from the shore.



   Tommy was straining with everything he had, leaning back into his dad's
chest as he huffed and puffed.  His eyes were as big around as golf balls.
"Come ...  on!!!" he shouted at the fighting fish.



   "Nice and easy," guided Dale.  The fish was in sight.  Dale hopped up
and helped Tommy stand to his feet.  With a few more tugs and reels, a
three foot long catfish dangled above the water by the hook in its lip,
slick black and writhing.



   Everyone was standing on the shore now, watching in awe as the struggle
with the incredibly oversized fish came to an end.  The catfish was
unbelievably huge.  Ranger came rushing into the water to help Dale manage
the beast.



   The kids were hooping and hollering as the adults took the catfish to
shore and cut it from the line and dug the hook out of its mouth, carefully
avoiding the poisonous barbs that protruded from its flesh.  Tommy was
ecstatic and nearly about to burst with excitement.



   "I caught him dad!" he said, putting his arm around Dale's naked waist.
They were soaking wet from all the splashing.  "I caught that!"



   "Yeah, you did," said Dale, leaning over to give his son's head a kiss.
"It's a beast!"



   "You're a true man now," said Ranger, patting the boy on the back.



   "Yeah," agreed James.  "That was so cool!"



   "It's so slimy," said Jamie, poking its white, fleshy belly with a
finger.



   "Careful, baby," said Ginger, a hand on the small of her aching back. 
"Those barbs will mess you up."



   "Sucker must be at least thirty pounds," said Ranger, surveying the
catfish that lay in the grass.  Its gills slowly contracted in the open
air. "Ain't often you see one as big as this.  Can't believe that little
pole brought this bad boy in."



   Dale was rubbing Tommy's back.  "It's a doozy alright," said the proud
father.  "Hope everyone likes catfish cause that's what's on the menu for
tonight."



   "Let's gut this motherfucker," said Ranger, pulling a hunting knife from
a pocket.  He looked at Tommy.  "You ever gutted a catfish before, kiddo?"



   "Yeah, lots," said Tommy, rubbing his tummy hungrily.  The thought of
catfish made him suddenly ravenous.



   "Well then," said Ranger, grinning ear to ear.  "Let's get to work."



   <>

   A light cold front blew in that night as they sat around a cozy fire
beneath the stars eating what remained of the catfish.  The temperature
changed from a Texas simmer to a comfortable autumn night; the first of the
season.  September would soon be drawing to a close, meaning Fall weather
was around the corner.  Autumns and Winters in Texas were mild at best. 
Some years there was hardly a winter at all.  The night went on and the
drinking continued.  Everyone was hammered.



   From across the park, Dale could hear Vance yelling at Clarence about
God knows what.  Their voices drifted over the din of the campfire revelry
like static noise.  Daniel sat next to Dale in their foldable chairs,
leaning toward him and making him laugh with dirty jokes.  It wasn't often
that Dale got as drunk as he was now, but he was feeling good.



   The twins were in bed already in their camper, and Tommy was sound
asleep on Dale's lap with the back of his head resting against his
shoulder. In truth, Tommy was getting too big for this.  The boy wasn't six
years old anymore, but Dale couldn't help but coddle his son a little,
especially after his big catch today and even more after losing his other
dad to the virus.  Sometimes he heard Tommy crying at night, and sometimes
Dale cried too.



   "You okay?" asked Daniel.



   Dale shook himself from his thoughts and took a pull from his whiskey
bottle.  "Yeah," he said, looking over at Daniel's fire-lit face.  Dale
didn't know if it was the alcohol making the pregnant man so attractive or
if he'd always thought so.  "Just thinking of my dead husband.  Never
thought I'd be a widower at thirty." He wrapped his arms tighter around
Tommy.  The position Tommy was in made his rounding belly even more
prominent.



   "I lost all my friends in the fires," said Daniel, absently staring down
at Tommy's stomach and remembering what Mr.  Rick told him.  Does Dale know
his son is pregnant?  Daniel wondered.  Is Dale the one who did that to
him? Beneath Daniel's bare belly and tucked away inside his elastic gym
shorts, the pregnant man struggled to keep his cock in check.



   The last little boy Daniel had fucked had been a ten year old named Kyle
who was pregnant with twins.  He and another pregnant boy named Terry had
been brought into the dungeons beneath Fargrove's City Hall and used for
pleasure during Kyle's birth.  That had been the same night Fargrove
burned. The same night he lost Lucky.  He was positive Kyle and Terry also
were lost in the fire along with everyone else Daniel knew.



   "As meaningless as it sounds," said Dale, "I really am sorry you had to
go through that.  I'm sure God has them in His arms now."



   Daniel would have laughed at that.  He was not a religious person. 
Pastor Daisy and his flock of pedophiles had proven to Daniel that there
was no god, and if there was, not one of them made it to Heaven.  "Thank
you," he said instead.  "And at least you're a widower at thirty and not a
widower at fifty.  You're still so young.  You still have time to be young
and free, you know?  If you had become a widower as an old guy there
wouldn't be much left to live for.  But you're young.  Your son is still
little.  You have energy and can have more kids, if you wanted.  I dunno.
I'm drunk.  I'm probably not making any sense."



   "Yeah," chuckled Dale.  "Not really, but that's all right.  I don't
really like talking about it anyhow."



   "Sorry," Daniel offered, putting a hand on his upper belly where a foot
was sticking out.  "Pregnancy brain."



   "It's okay."



   Across the campfire, Ranger was fingering Ginger again.  Her belly --
while not quite as big as Daniel's despite her being further along than he
was -- heaved up and down as she moaned and panted.  Ranger's big hand was
jammed into her wet snatch.



   Vance came staggering back into the ring of chairs around the campfire
and sagged into one.  Clarence probably locked him out of his own RV again.



   Ginger's moaning was distracting Daniel from his conversation with Dale,
and after a while he said: "That bitch is annoying the shit out of me right
now.  Why can't she just shut the fuck up with that fake moaning shit?"



   Dale liked Ginger.  He had known her for a good long while now -- far
longer than he knew Daniel.  Just as he was about to say something in
Ginger's defense, Ranger stopped what he was doing and got to his feet.



   Evidently, Daniel hadn't been as quiet as he thought when he insulted
Ginger.



   "The fuck did you say about my wife?!" said the Terminator as he
advanced around the fire.



   Ranger's voice woke Tommy from his sleep.  "Range," said Dale from his
lawn chair.  "Quiet down, man."



   "No," Ranger said, pointing an accusatory finger at Daniel.  "This fat
fucker is talking shit about my wife."



   Daniel sat where he was, his stomach sloping dramatically into the space
between he and Ranger.



   "You think my wife's moans are fake?" Ranger almost looked ready to
laugh.  "They didn't sound fake when I was plowing ten inches into your
pregnant ass, so fuck you and your short memory."



   Vance stifled a laugh.



   In all honesty, Daniel was loving this too.  He hoped Ranger would take
this one step further.  He wanted the abuse.  He wanted the anger.  It
reminded him of Lucky.  "Oops," Daniel said, rubbing his belly and burying
a hand into his pants, groping himself.  "I guess I need a refresher."



   Ranger shook his head.  "God damn, you're pathetic.  You talked shit
about my wife.  You don't get rewarded for that, you get a good ol' country
ass kicking and maybe a bullet to the brain."



   "Ranger, that's enough," said Dale, setting Tommy on his feet and
sending him inside the RV.  Tommy sleepily made his way into the camper and
shut the door behind him.  Dale wasn't nearly as tall or as big as Ranger,
but he was wiry and quick and stood up to the bigger man all the same.  He
put a hand on Ranger's shoulder.  "Come on, man.  Let's all get some rest
and call it a night."



   Ranger shrugged Dale's hand off of him.  "No, we're gonna settle this
like men."



   "You're gonna fight a pregnant man?" said Dale, coming between him and
Daniel.  "Look at him, Range.  You think he stands a chance in his
condition?"



   "Back off, Dale," said Ranger, getting into the man's face.  "I don't
give a shit about his fetus.  He's a man and we can settle this like men.
Now get out of the way."



   "You're drunk, man," said Dale.  "He didn't mean anything by what he
said.  He was just kidding, that's all."



   Ginger was fed up with her husband's drunken rage.  Yesterday he had
punched her in the face for almost no reason and now he was about to do the
same to Daniel.  She struggled to her feet and prepared to head to her RV,
but as she did, liquid surged out of her naked vagina and splashed onto the
Texas dirt between her feet.



   Everyone turned to look at her.



   <>



   As it turned out, Ginger was right: Her laboring screams and moans would
ensure no one slept that night.



   A baby boy was born at dawn, a pink little thing that was all arms and
legs and lungs.  Ginger nursed him quietly in their RV, relieved that the
whole ordeal was finally over.  Dale stood outside looking in as Ranger
rubbed his new son's fuzzy head and kissed his wife on the lips.  James and
Jamie came in to admire their new sibling, anxious after nine long months
to see what he looked like.  Some said that all babies look the same but
Dale didn't think that was true.  He had seen several babies born here at
the park over the years and each one had their own tiny distinctions.



   "Congratulations, Range," said Dale, clapping the bigger man on the back
as he came out of the RV.  The crimson dawn above them cast them in a
reddish glow.  "You made one handsome little guy."



   Ranger beamed proudly as they went over and sat by the remains of the
fire together.  Vance was already there, his arms folded around himself
against the cool, Autumn morning.  "Thanks Dale," he said as he lit himself
a cigarette.



   "Does he have a name yet?"



   "Jacob," said Ranger.  "Ginger and I always said if we had any more kids
we'd keep on with the `J' theme."



   Dale put a few more logs on the fire and prodded it with a stick.  Ashes
jumped into the sky.  "I'm surprised you ain't had more kids since the
twins."



   "It was never the right time," Ranger said, puffing smoke.  He looked
haggard much like Vance and Dale.  None of them had caught more than an
hour or two of sleep.  "I was traveling all over installing solar panels. I
barely had time for her and the twins."



   "And now we have all the time in the world," Vance said gruffly.  His
voice had dropped into that growling sound you get when you're bone dead
tired.



   The men nodded slowly, tiredly.



   Dale cleared his throat and leveled his eyes at Ranger.  "Anyway, that
shit you pulled last night won't fly, Range.  I can't have you or anyone
else drinking and threatening to kill people."



   "Hell you talking about?  I didn't threaten nobody."



   "You did," said Vance, chiming in.  "Heard it myself.  You said you'd
blow Daniel's pregnant brains out."



   Ranger looked from Dale to Vance and back to Dale.  "Well, shit.  I
don't remember that."



   With a tired groan, Dale go to his feet and stretched his lean, limber
body.  "Take it easy on the alcohol." He turned his eyes toward Vance. 
"The both of you."



   "The fuck did I do?" asked Vance.



   Dale felt the heat burn its way up his neck and into his cheeks.  "Treat
Clarence like shit," he said.  "He's pregnant and alone in this god damn
world.  I'm sick of hearing you two yelling at each other.  Work it out or
leave it alone." He turned and headed back to his RV.  He was tired and
cranky.  Not to mention, someone in this community had raped and
impregnated his son; a mystery he had still yet to solve.  "Congrats again
on the kid, Ranger," he said, calling over his shoulder.



   Inside their RV Dale found Tommy passed out in his bed.  He stripped to
his briefs and crawled in alongside him, pulling the blanket over their
heads.  Dale pulled his son close against him.  He remembered when Tom was
just a tiny infant and how much he treasured those precious naps they took
together.



   Nine years later, not much had changed except soon there would be
another baby to care for.  A grandchild.  Curiously, Dale put his hand over
Tommy's belly.  There was a hard lump in there moving around like a fish in
a bowl.



   A grandfather at thirty, he thought.  Fuck.

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