Chapter 7

I won’t lie. I was secretly elated. I had wanted to have children my entire adult life. My ex had been anti-child, which was odd when you considered she got as much sperm into her womb from as many different men as she could.

Angela, of course, was devastated. While I didn’t think of her as married, and while she somehow thought of me as her teacher and mentor, rather than the man she was cuckolding her husband with, she did think of herself as married. And while I knew there hadn’t been nearly enough time for them to bond in any genuine matrimonial relationship, there had been that initial attraction that led them to get married in the first place.

She didn’t love him in the common sense of the word, but she felt like she loved him ... or should ... and now he would be very angry with her.

I don’t want to seem overly dramatic, but it was kind of like she was kneeling over the body of their marriage, giving it CPR, and I was whispering “Die! Die! Die!” off to one side.

He did still call, though it was only once a month, these days. When they talked there was very little to talk about. Her job was boring and his was about things she couldn’t imagine. He did ask for her to send him some nudie pictures, at which point she blushed. She happened to be standing by the desk her phone had been on when it rang. I was lying in bed naked, and she was standing there naked, with my spunk running down the inside of one thigh. She demurred and he begged. She said she’d see what she could do.

What she did was have one of her girlfriends take pictures with her cell phone. The girlfriend happened to be Specialist Franklin and the pictures were taken at work. They waited until they were the only two there. Franklin was delighted to do something so naughty and while I never saw the pictures (she emailed them and then deleted them from her phone) I gather they were pretty explicit. I suspected Peter was bragging about what a hot wife he’d bagged and showing those pictures around to his buddies. She said she was partly in and out of uniform for the series of shots.

That happened a lot in the military. Many a wife had no idea that tens of strange men had gazed upon the nude shots she had intended only for her husband or boyfriend. And many a man rued the fact he had “shared” when one of those buddies put a move on and then fucked his bride. There is a thing’ that happens to some women when she hears from an acquaintance of her husband that he got to see her naked, and liked it, and even masturbated to it, that flips a switch in her mind. That switch means “He shared private pictures with this man and that means he shared me with this man.” So she may share herself physically with the man. It isn’t common, by any stretch of the imagination, but it does happen to more than you might think.

Anyway, she had missed three more periods and been on sick call to confirm she was with child before she asked me what to do about telling Peter. Captain Whittaker knew she was pregnant because she informed him, as per protocol.

When she did that she took a page out of my book and phrased things very carefully so that, technically, she did not tell him any lies. She said she’d been to a party and got drunk. That was true. Specialist Allen invited her to a party where everybody got drunk. She said she had passed out from drinking. That was true. She had passed out at my house the first night I fed her alcohol. She said she was on the pill and shouldn’t have been able to get pregnant. Also true. She said she didn’t have a boyfriend, which was true. I had never called her my girlfriend and vice versa. The only iffy part, in terms of being technically honest, was that she said she hadn’t slept around and couldn’t remember getting pregnant. The inference was that some man at his party must have taken advantage of her. She said the party was off post and she did not want to make a criminal complaint with the local police, because she’d be dragged through a long investigation, after which it probably wouldn’t go anywhere.

He bought it and said if she changed her mind about making the complaint, he’d help her do so.

There had been no talk of getting an abortion. It was one of the hardest things I ever did to keep my mouth shut and let her make that decision. The relief I felt when I found out she was going to carry my child to term was almost orgasmic.

We were making love, with her in the saddle and me pulling and tugging on her nipples, when she sat up, slumped, and with my prick buried in her as deeply as it could get, sat still and sighed.

“I have to tell him,” she said. We both knew who “him” was. “I don’t know how to do that.”

“I can’t imagine how difficult this must be for you,” I said.

“What do you think I should do?” she asked.

“I’ve never been in this situation, obviously,” I said, “But I have done things I knew the Army wasn’t going to like. I always brought it up myself before somebody else could talk to the chain of command. It was never comfortable, but it made resolving things go a lot quicker and smoother.”

“What if he wants a divorce?” she asked.

“Let me ask you a couple of questions,” I said. “They’re personal questions, so you don’t have to answer, but I hope you do.”

“Okay,” she said.

“Do you really feel married?”

“I know I’m married. I mean I am married. What difference does it mean how I feel?”

“What I meant was do you love him and miss him? Are you excited at the thought of him coming here on leave?”

She blinked.

“No.” That was all she said. Just, “No.”

“Can you explain that?” I asked.

“I know what love feels like because you taught me what it feels like. I feel that with you every day. I never loved him. Not like I love you. And I never felt love from him like I feel it from you. I don’t even think about him most of the time. Last Tuesday when he called was the first time I’d thought about him at all since the last time he called. And the thought of going to bed with him seems ... icky somehow. I mean he’s a virtual stranger. Yes, I knew him growing up, but that’s like saying I knew Adele growing up because I had all her music and listened to it all the time. It doesn’t mean I really know her.”

“If he does want a divorce, how would you feel about that?”

She thought about it and then looked at me.

“Relieved? Is that terrible?”

“How you feel isn’t terrible or wonderful. It’s just how you feel,” I said. Meanwhile I felt great. If she got divorced, one punishment under the UCMJ would go away like magic. More importantly, she’d be available for me to scoop her up and make her all mine. I know that sounds a little callous, but I loved this woman and I’d fight for her if needed. If fighting wasn’t needed, so much the better.

“If I get divorced then I’ll be a pregnant woman with no husband,” she said.

“And?”

“Back where I came from nobody would talk to me or help me. I’d be shunned, even by my friends.”

“So you’d have to raise the baby entirely by yourself?”

She nodded.

“Well, I can’t tell you what to do, but I can tell you you’ll never be alone with this child. This is my child, our child, and I don’t care what our official relationship is. You’re pregnant because I got you pregnant. My seed began to grow in your belly. I will never abandon you and as soon as possible I want to make our relationship official so you’re considered my dependent.”

“You want to marry me?” she squeaked.

“I think I have since before you moved in,” I said.

“We never talked about it,” she said.

“I was afraid you’d react to it negatively and pull back. I didn’t want you to pull back.”

“I’ve never pulled back since I started calling you Daddy and you taught me about kissing.”

“Okay, yes, but having casual, happy sex isn’t the same as committing to a lifetime together. I think you actually understand what that means now, right?”

“I do,” she said, somberly.

“I basically seduced you,” I said. “I shouldn’t have because I took advantage of your innocence and the fact that I had so much rank over you.”

“No you didn’t,” she said. “I didn’t care what rank you were. When you started kissing me all I felt was your lips. And when we did other things I wanted to do them, too. It was like I was famished and you were feeding me. You didn’t take advantage of me.”

“Agree to disagree,” I said. “My point is that whether we formalize this relationship or not, I’ll help you raise our child. I’ll also try to make sure you live with me as much as humanly possible.”

“Awww, does Daddy get all horny?”

“I already made a baby in you. Want to practice for the next one?”

“Next one?”

“I believe you said you wanted four.”

“I did,” she said.

“Did? As in past tense?”

She nodded.

“So you don’t want four anymore?”

“I feel so good about this,” she rubbed her still-flat abs, “that I think I’m going to want to be pregnant a lot; maybe all the time. Especially if I’m not married to Peter anymore.”

“The Army might not appreciate that,” I said. “Granted, it wouldn’t affect your current job, but you’ll eventually PCS and move somewhere else and have a different job.”

“Not if I don’t renew my contract,” she said. “Didn’t you say we could be official once I was out?”

“I think so,” I said. “I’m not up on all the regs. While we can’t be public while we’re both on active duty, I think we can if one of us isn’t on active duty. I’d have to consult JAG about that.”

“Melody asked me if I was going to ask for a compassionate release,” she said. She got her purse and dug around in it, coming up with a somewhat bedraggled pink post it note. “Army regulation 614-200 covers that. She said it’s rare, but she knows women have been released if it’s in the interests of the Army.”

“I could look into that at JAG, too. As your NCOIC it would be legit for me to be asking questions on your behalf.”

“Then please do. I love my job and I don’t even mind all the PT, but I’d much rather just be a stay-at-home mom to a gaggle of kids.”

“I’ll get over to JAG after the inspection we have next week.”

“Can we practice now?” she asked.

I hadn’t gone soft while we talked. I could feel the knob of my cock rubbing past her cervix.

“We already are,” I said.

She leaned down and started using her milkmaid muscles.

“I mean I want to feel you shoot your sperm in me,” she whispered. “I love it that your sperm got in my womb and found my egg and made a baby in me.”

She got her wish not long afterwards.

I talked to a Captain at the Staff Judge Advocate’s office and he said the commander needed to do an investigation and then send a request for compassionate action to Fort Knox, where an office that exists just to do that kind of thing reviews the request and makes a decision. The process takes about a month and then, if Fort Knox approves it, the soldier could be discharged within a couple of weeks.

Obviously, the commander (Captain Whittaker, in this case) has to talk to the soldier and gather justification for the action and all that. Based on how she claimed to have gotten pregnant, she was a potential problem, and getting her out of the army would solve that problem, so Captain Whittaker was quite willing to make the recommendation. In the memo she prepared and sent him, she said she should return to her hometown so that her mother and other female relatives could help her become a mother.

The lying she did was by omission. All the events she described were true; they just took place on different dates and in different places. Again, technically, her “plan” for what she’d do after the army was viable. She just didn’t intend to actually do that. She told him what she should do, not what she planned on doing.

Of course the battalion commander wanted to get involved, even though the regulation said the company commander was the person to process all this. The colonel just wanted to cover his ass in case the soldier later said she didn’t actually want to get out of the Army and was coerced. To that end he had the private examined by a doctor, who was provided a list of the dangerous chemicals and potential carcinogens she was exposed to in her job.

Of course the doctor recommended approval of her request, for the health of the baby.

After that it was wait. I had her do paperwork so she wasn’t “exposed to all that bad stuff” and we heard nothing from Fort Knox for what seemed like ages, and then Captain Whittaker notified me the discharge had been approved and that he would get the ball rolling with S-1 to get her out of the Army.

Eighteen days later Private Harris had to turn in all her issued gear and clear fourteen or fifteen places on post, most of which she’d never even been to (such as the library). She did all that on her own, just like any other soldier would have had to. When she got the final stamp and turned her paperwork in, she was given orders separating her from the Army.

She did not tell her husband this was going on until she was out.

She kept living with me, of course. That was just me “being compassionate to a soldier going through a rough time.” She didn’t have a job or other means of support and she had a baby on the way. People in the shop knew she was still living with me and that “her parents had disowned her” for religious reasons.

It was five days after she had become a civilian that she called Peter. She said, “I went to a party and got drunk and somebody raped me and now I’m pregnant. I got discharged from the army. What should I do?”

He was appropriately shocked. He was shocked to the point that he got emergency leave to go care for his raped, discharged wife.

Their reunion was stiff, as I expected it to be. She was, at that point, twenty-two weeks pregnant, and her baby bump was impossible to hide. I stood nearby, in case there was the kind of unhappiness that got physical. I even told him I was doing that. There was a brief hug, but no kiss. She showed him her room and whispered that I was gay. She offered to let him sleep with her that night.

“I can’t,” he said, looking nervous.

“It’s because I’m pregnant with another man’s baby, isn’t it,” she said, sounding genuinely upset.

“No,” he said. “It’s because ... um ... well ... I have a disease and they’re treating me for it but I’m still ... uh ... catchable.”

“Gonorrhea or Syphilis?” I asked, boldly.

“How’d you know?” he asked, looking at me. He was a PFC and even though I wasn’t an elite killer like his cadre, my rank cowed him.

“I’ve been in the Army eighteen years,” I said.

“You caught a disease?” she screeched. “You had sex with some woman and caught a disease?” She sounded genuinely irate.

“I didn’t mean to,” he lied. “The guys got me drunk and this hooker had sex with me. I didn’t try to cheat on you. I mean you should understand that. You got drunk and some guy had sex with you, so...”

“Everybody calm down,” I said, utilizing my peacemaker role. “You two have a lot to talk about but try to keep it civil. Both of you made mistakes. Now you have to decide what to do in the future.”

It didn’t look like there would be any body getting slapped around, so I left them in her bedroom and closed the door. She was a big girl and she had, in fact, chosen to engage in behavior that got her knocked up. She wasn’t the timid girl he’d had a wham, bam, and “Thank you, Ma’am,” session with. She knew what she wanted, now. And she knew what she didn’t want.