Straight Female / 25
Selling Out To 'the Man'
Following a six month recovery from an accident I was behind in school and failing badly. I had to drop out, but the Fs counted against me. From a B+ average to flunking out. Unfair, but that is how I was treated. I was not only injured with lasting injuries, but lost in the world. I had no choice but to return home, and a dependent.
A 'guy', came by to see me. Offered me my own space, time to heal, petition acceptance to another college, in return for...
You got it. Sex. No. Within a year to get pregnant. For each child I made for him I got 100,000. Yes, 100K per kid. What do you do? Be a professional baby maker, that part of me wasn't injured, have my own space, recovering my independence, a chance of returning to college. I really did not read the fine print, I had to be the 'mother'.
Out of desperation, I agreed, I could make two kids, then return to college. After three or four years I would be healed, retaught how to use my body, and live a full life again. Except for that pesky word 'mother'. I read the act of making the baby, I missed the 'being' a mother part. I signed the 'contract'.
The 'act' was clinical, with a 'procedure', first removing an 'egg', then 'fertilizing' the 'egg', then 'reintroduce' the 'fertilized egg' into my waiting uterus. Not very romantic. The pregnancy, or carrying the baby, was ok I suppose. The baby hit me in the solar plexus, from zero to a hundred million light years a second, instant love and affection. MY BABY.
Being the mother was so easy, I was 'the mother', am the mother. I could not run to him, but I got to him as quickly as I could. The next procedure was a bit more intimate, injecting sperm in me, and fertilization inside my body. CONCEPTION. This time I carried my baby every instant of every day until the day I met him.
I'm on an 'allowance', the every minute of every day mother, I am in college, I can drive and get around now, I 'elected' to take a free and clear home instead of the money, fixed for me to get around in.
I have a 'good' relationship with the 'father'. He's involved with his sons daily.
Well for those who see me as selling out 'to the man', I did. And got my life back, and made two beautiful babies, and if being 'on an allowance' bothers you, well I joyfully give you the middle finger.
A 'guy', came by to see me. Offered me my own space, time to heal, petition acceptance to another college, in return for...
You got it. Sex. No. Within a year to get pregnant. For each child I made for him I got 100,000. Yes, 100K per kid. What do you do? Be a professional baby maker, that part of me wasn't injured, have my own space, recovering my independence, a chance of returning to college. I really did not read the fine print, I had to be the 'mother'.
Out of desperation, I agreed, I could make two kids, then return to college. After three or four years I would be healed, retaught how to use my body, and live a full life again. Except for that pesky word 'mother'. I read the act of making the baby, I missed the 'being' a mother part. I signed the 'contract'.
The 'act' was clinical, with a 'procedure', first removing an 'egg', then 'fertilizing' the 'egg', then 'reintroduce' the 'fertilized egg' into my waiting uterus. Not very romantic. The pregnancy, or carrying the baby, was ok I suppose. The baby hit me in the solar plexus, from zero to a hundred million light years a second, instant love and affection. MY BABY.
Being the mother was so easy, I was 'the mother', am the mother. I could not run to him, but I got to him as quickly as I could. The next procedure was a bit more intimate, injecting sperm in me, and fertilization inside my body. CONCEPTION. This time I carried my baby every instant of every day until the day I met him.
I'm on an 'allowance', the every minute of every day mother, I am in college, I can drive and get around now, I 'elected' to take a free and clear home instead of the money, fixed for me to get around in.
I have a 'good' relationship with the 'father'. He's involved with his sons daily.
Well for those who see me as selling out 'to the man', I did. And got my life back, and made two beautiful babies, and if being 'on an allowance' bothers you, well I joyfully give you the middle finger.
- That's Juicy! 16
- Remove It! 4
