Breeding Dylan

10: It's For the Baby

"In the first few months of the pregnancy, you will notice a sharp increase in the sex drive of both the carrying and participating parents. This is a natural part of the process designed to reinforce the genetic link between both parents and the fetus. It is important to engage daily in sexual intercourse for the child to develop properly," I read from the third page of the book Dr. Rammat had given us with the welcome materials.

"So we are commanded for playtime? I can do this." Tareq laughed and looked over at me with a wink as he drove us home.

"This isn't a joke. You got me pregnant. You don't get to be cute." I turned to the chapter explaining changes to the nipples.

"I know, but you must know I will take care of you. I prove to you I am your perfect mate. But please you will keep the child. You cannot kill what we create." He reached over to put his hand on my leg, but I shoved it off and turned towards the window.

"I don't know what I'm going to do. I do know that I am getting on that airplane and heading home Saturday. If you won't send me then Dr. Rammat will. Whatever I decide to do, I'll do it with my family and people I can trust." I'd told the doctor we would come in for a checkup on Friday when I'd made my decision.

"What to tell my parents? They will ask what the doctor says." Tareq turned the car into his neighborhood where the armed guards nodded at him and began to open the gate.

"Tell them whatever you want. I'll never see them again. Your mom hates me so she can fuck right off." I was on a roller coaster of anger. It washed over me like a crashing wave and then subsided only to come back again.

"She does not hate you. I will put a stop to her disrespect of you. You are carrying my child, and she will change when she learns this. My father very much care for you. He will be angered to me, but I will not ask you to lie. We tell them truth if you wish." Tareq tried once more to put a hand on me.

This time I let him touch me. For some reason it felt comforting that he'd stand up to his mother for me. I felt so conflicted towards him. Of course a golden boy from privileged wealth would think nothing of impregnating the poor low-class boy of his choosing. It was a classic storyline.

He pulled into his driveway and left the car in front of the door. He came over to help me out then handed off the key to the family's driver. What a crazy house to have valet parking. This was not my world.

We got inside and Tareq called his parents. His father came out from his office and looked hopefully at me. His mother came out from the living room and ended her phone call when she saw us.

"Dylan is healthy," Tareq began.

They both sighed in relief and nodded happily at me. His father smiled because he was concerned for my health. His mother smiled because it meant I was going home sooner.

"And pregnant! I am pregnant with Tareq's sperm." I added.

I watched the looks on his parents' faces go from surprise to confusion and then both erupted in a cannonball of Arabic. I was glad I didn't understand it. They volleyed back and forth with Tareq waving his hands and trying to explain things.

"You are trans?" His mother turned to me suddenly.

"I'm what?" I asked.

"Transgender. You were born with female parts? Upstairs man with a lady in the basement." She asked me without a hint of shame.

"Yeah sure. Why not? Let's go with that." I sighed. It seemed to be an easy way to explain everything.

"I did not say that! Mother! Do not say this to my boy!" Tareq interrupted. He held up his hands not wanting to anger me further.