But It'll Be Our Child - a 750 Word Tale

"So, Frank, that's how it has to be." My wife sighed, "If I don't have his baby, and raise it, my dad will not only be a cripple for the rest of his life, but a bankrupt, as well."

"Cheryl," I began.

"Luke, you know how much I owe my parents. I can't let them be poor and homeless." She hesitated. "I mean, they could move in with us." There was a lift at the end that made that a question. "But we've only got the two bedrooms and your office. I mean, we could move your office out to the living room..." She broke down, tears flowing. "But my dad would be a cripple when they got through with him, and where would we get the money for his medical costs?" The tears ran in rivers down her cheeks. The effect was ruined by the snot dripping out of her nose.

"I don't understand. Your father borrowed money from a black gangster he can't repay. But he'll forgive it if you raise his bastard?"

"But it wouldn't be a bastard, honey. It'd be our child." She dried her face with her sleeve and sat back. "I'll go off birth control. Then, after my next period, he'll breed me."

"What the hell about me? What do I do? Clean his dick for him?" Angrily, I went to get beer.

"No, don't be gross. No one wants to disrespect you. He's giving you a choice." She pursed her lips, trying to find the best way to lay out the options. "If you'll get a vasectomy, I can stay with you and just go over to him a couple times a day for breeding sessions." She looked at me hopefully, before sighing again and shaking her head. "Or, once my next period begins, I go and live with him until I'm preggers."

She watched me, hardly daring to breathe while I finished my beer and made my decision. "Well, I'm not getting cut for your father. I don't owe him a damn thing." I got up to get another of what might just be an endless line of beers. As I left, I said, "But I guess you have to do what you have to do."

"Oh, thank you, darling! I knew you'd understand." She said joyfully.

But I didn't understand. Or if I did, it didn't mattered.

[*]

Cheryl left a week later, when her menstrual flow began. I called my sister Megan, who came over to help me with my adjustment.

Megan was the dearest thing in the world to me, equal to, if not secretly greater than my wife. We'd had a difficult upbringing and were the only ones we each could count on. Well, I had thought I had Cheryl, but Megan had always disagreed. They'd been friendly, but Megan was always sparing in her friendships.

"So, she's off fucking this dude to protect her father, who she owes so much too," my sister asked.

"Yeah." I agreed.

"Isn't he the father-in-law who refused to loan you the $5,000 you were short on the downpayment for this 'dream' house of yours?" It was only 10 am, but she walked into the kitchen and got the next one in my line of beers. Coming back, she continued, while opening one for herself, "The bastard who forced you to sell him your prized MGTK, that you'd fully restored yourself? The car he drives every time he comes over to visit you?"

"Yeah, that's the bastard." At 10 am, beer tastes surprisingly great.

"But you owe him enough to let your wife whore herself out?" Megan looked disgusted with me.

"Well, she owed him." I smiled. "I don't owe the bastard anything. Besides, what kind of sacrifice is it? Weren't you the one that told me how my wife's eyes lit up like a supernova when the black strippers came out at that bachelorette party?"

"Well, yeah," Megan sounded puzzled.

"And you know, after that I started checking the history on her computer. She spends an inordinate amount of time reading filth about white women being forced bred by black studs." I smiled again. "And now, the only way to save poor daddy is to allow herself to be bred. Imagine that.

"The movers are coming tomorrow to move my stuff out. But I'm waiting a couple of weeks to have her served. I know how much she wants a black kid, so I don't want to get in the way."