She rubbed her belly slowly, chewing her lip. She wouldn’t be able to hide it much longer or just wave it off as the Covid 20 so many have gained. No, that story wouldn’t be bought by anyone in another month. They would know. Everyone would know. And then the questions would start.

“How did this happen? Who is the father? Why didn’t you practice safe sex? How could you do this to your family? Don’t you have any self-respect? “ they would all ask.

And she didn’t know how to answer any of that. Not fully anyway.

How? She went to a concert. Who? She had no idea. Why? Because she didn’t remember it. That night was a blur. She remembered drinking a beer. Her first. She remembered chatting and flirting with someone. She remembered feeling weak, being helped towards the restrooms. Then nothing.

No, nothing wasn’t quite true. She had glimmers, brief flashes. Strangers over her, grunting. Each one was different. And then, blackness. Then it was morning. She was cold, almost freezing, in a porta-potty. Her purse and money were gone. Her clothes reeked of smoke, beer, and piss. Her thighs were bruised, her pussy stained with dried cum. Even her ass hurt. She threw up, stumbled out, and hitched a ride home. And cried. She didn’t tell anyone, just tried to forget, until she missed her period. Until her belly started to grow. A surprise gift, her life was ruined.

And when she didn’t think it could get worse, a package was sent to her. It contained an SD card along with her thong, soiled. She checked to see what was on the card. Pictures. Of that night. She watched the video. One guy after another, men talking turns with her mostly limp body. She wasn’t a person to any of them. A set of holes to use in the bathroom stall. Once, the cameraman filmed himself taking a turn, filling her with white. None of them used a condom. Then someone dragged her, camera shaking, to a porta-potty. They jerked her around, positioned her painfully, peed on her, then spat on her ass. They pushed in her rear, soft moans escaping her mouth, whimpers, coupled with the cameraman’s grunts. He filled her ass. Then the camera zoomed out as they leaned in, kissing her tits, kissing her. Smiling.

It was her uncle. He had taken her, dropped her off, and told her to call if she needed a ride back. He had been there and filmed the whole thing. He had given her a soda on the drive there. It hadn’t been the beer, it had been him. She rubbed her belly, wondering if that was his too? It could have been over a dozen men’s.

Later, her parents asked her to come down. Her uncle was there. He had noticed, and once he brought it up, they had noticed too. Was she pregnant? She nodded, in shock. There were screams and frustrations, but her uncle was the voice of reason. Summer had started, so she could stay with him for a bit while they decided what should be done. No scandal was needed. Just visit him at his Florida home and then it could be put up for adoption. No one else needed to know. It would be for the best, they all agreed. She didn’t say anything. Everyone was disappointed in her but thanked God for her uncle’s wisdom.

Thank God for him, they said. She numbly got in the car with him, waving goodbye to her parents and her home. They drove off in silence until he started rubbing her belly.

“Such a good girl, not saying a thing,” he said, smiling. “Now we can make so many movies while we find out if someone’s the father or not. You’re going to be so popular with my friends, you’ll never want to go home.”

Then he pushed her head down as they drove to her new home, her new life, her new reality. And he was right. His friends did love her, every day of the week.