Chapter 11 – Magnum
Chapter Eleven
Magnum
Four Weeks Later
She signs my pregnancy contract agreeing to carry my child and stay with me until the baby comes.
A large existential weight clearly lifts off my shoulder, but I expect Damara to experience the reality of her choice slowly over time.
She might react just fine at first, but as her body changes with the presence of my seed, I’ll have no choice but to deal with her as she tries to fight the contract and the reality of her situation.
Damara seems like quite the fighter and honestly, I like the challenge of taming this seemingly untameable woman.
For the past four weeks, the only opportunity I have to tame her is in the bedroom.
Outside of the bedroom, I work, workout, and help her get her small business off the ground.
I like the idea of a small event space and marijuana dispensary.
It’s a controversial business, but every investor I know out in Oregon made a mint during the first gold rush after legalization.
You might get entangled with some ‘darker elements’ if you cut into any major drug dealers customer base, but it’s nothing that I couldn’t handle, especially not for Damara.
I don’t know how she explains our “whirlwind romance” to Tamiya or anyone else in the club, but the financial incentives appear to be more than enough to get Damara on board.
Good.
Financial security clearly makes her more peaceful.
I sense the shift in her energy after four weeks.
But there’s something else missing from Damara’s life – her period.
She’s been here for long enough that she should have had it by now.
I’ve been with her every night since she got here and there hasn’t been a hint of blood.
Damara sets about her duties cooking breakfast while I execute my plot.
“Glass of water?”
“Yes,” she says, looking up at me suspiciously as she chops ingredients for my favorite breakfast – a simple omelette, bacon, and toast. “Why are you being nice?”
“I’m not. Trust me.”
I fill up a large 16 ounce glass of water and carry it over to Damara, who drinks a few sips, but not enough to cause her to pee right away.
I’ll need to set up my secret pee collector.
Parents who suspect their kids are addicted to drugs have invented a fascinating device that I can hook up to the toilet to collect some of Damara’s pee and get answers about our mission.
I’m desperate to know, but I don’t want her to be the first to find out.
Considering her position – trapped in my custody for the next 39 weeks – I’d much rather Damara slowly recognize her reality.
A pregnancy test would be a slap in the face.
My position differs from hers, and I’ll need to plan every detail including her doctor’s appointments, nutrition plan, exercise plan, and building a nursery in whichever one of my houses we’ll be in for the next few months.
We still have the issue of “who the hell did this to us” to sort out, but with Damara’s missing period obsessively at the front of my mind, I need those answers first. She sips a little more water and my excitement mounts.
What if the test is negative? Should I slide those sweatpants down and fuck her in the kitchen?
My cock stiffens at the thought of another attempted breeding. But my instincts are telling me that our first attempts already worked.
“You’re staring at me,” Damara accuses. She sometimes doesn’t like to see me before she’s had a cup of coffee and time to ‘enjoy the peace’ as she calls it. I consider my presence to be pretty peaceful, but apparently this pink-haired woman disagrees.
“You look hot. That’s all.”
She rolls her eyes. “Relax, Magnum. That’s not in the contract and it’s not necessary. If you want to make yourself useful, set up that Instant Pot with a little jasmine rice.”
That Instant Pot was a gift from Juliette, my cousin Hunter’s wife.
I don’t know why she got me such a thing for my kitchen, or how to use it for anything, I just thought it might help a woman think of me as established, if I ever wanted to bring one home.
I’m interested in the more respectable and mature kind of woman these days.
“I don’t know how to use that thing.”
Damara disapproves. “I guess you always have some woman in a contract cooking for you, huh?”
“Jealous?”
“Why would I be jealous of being your maid? I’m already stuck in a situation with you that makes absolutely no sense.”
I don’t want her to think too deeply about our situation.
What if she learns how to DoorDash birth control before I knock her up?
I consider Damara suspiciously and then wonder what it would be like to have a kid with her.
She’s a damn good cook, so the kids wouldn’t starve, but what about the rest?
Would our kids look like Gabrielle Union? No reason I’m thinking of her in particular, by the way.
“You aren’t my maid. If you don’t want to cook, I’ll hire someone to do it for us.”
“So they can drug and poison us again?” Damara responds. “Don’t be a fool.”
There’s something about her attitude that gets my heart racing and my dick hard at the same time. She’s feisty. I like that she doesn’t listen to everything I say or obey all my commands. It’s a pleasure to tame a creature like Damara.
“Okay, baby. I won’t be a fool if that will make you happy.”
“Baby?” she says. “Why are you calling me that? I’m not your girl. I’m your contract surrogate.”
“Contract? That was a covenant, baby.”
“Is there a reason you’re sniffing around me this morning?”
“I like spending time with you before work. I pushed back my morning meeting by an hour.”
“I farted on your leg last night,” Damara says. “I thought that would turn you off the idea of me entirely.”
She seems confident that her silly tricks to turn me off will work. They won’t. I don’t care where Damara farts as long as she ends her days in my bed with my baby. The more I envision our life together with this contract, the more excited I feel about how this could really work.
I haven’t had much luck meeting women the conventional way and I’m not the type of man to question fate, if I’m being honest.
“What do you really want, Magnum?”
She sips more water.
“To see your beautiful face.”
Damara rolls her eyes. “I’m going to take a piss.”
“You can do it right here, baby.”
“Disgusting.”
She falls for it. Damara hustles her ass over to the bathroom and I can hear her pissing from the kitchen. Fuck yes. My dick stiffens against my pants as I listen to the sound. I can’t wait to see the results.
Damara returns from the bathroom without giving me a second look. She continues her kitchen tasks while I blatantly ogle her. I can’t run off to collect her piss right away, so I have to keep her distracted for the time being.
“Have you ever been in love?”
“What the hell kind of a question is that?” Damara asks. Her pink hair bounces around her shoulders and I can’t help but imagine wrapping her hair around my wrists as I take her from behind. There’s something about that pink hair that matches Damara’s wild spirit.
“I don’t know. Isn’t that what women talk about? Love? Romance?” I’m teasing her a little bit, but her face gets all serious. Love and romance might be the last thing on her mind.
“I prefer talking about hunting knives and firearms.”
I laugh. I’m not falling for that tough girl crap for a second. I already shared a bed with Damara. I know how her body moves when she cums. This woman is sensitive to her core and I can tell every time our bodies join.
“You’re so full of shit.”
“I’m not,” Damara says. “Trust me. I have no interest in a romantic attachment to a man. It’s not worth it.”
“You’re not that cold-hearted.”
She laughs. “Oh, yes I am. ”
“You cuddled with me last night.”
Damara shakes her head. “No, I did not. My body instinctively seeks warmth. It’s not the same as cuddling.”
“So you’re totally unaffected by sharing a bed with me?”
“Finally, you understand. This is just a contract, Magnum. Your contract. Actually, worse than that. Somebody drugged both of us. We shouldn’t lose sight of that.”
“I’m not losing sight of anything.”
“Go do something aside from bothering me,” Damara says. “I’m not talking about my love life anymore, and I won’t change my mind.”
Good. I finally pestered her enough that she’ll kick me out and think the whole thing was all her idea. Damara is exactly where I want her. I act all sheepish and meek.
“Do you want more water?” I ask her.
“Out of my face, white boy.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I disappear to the bathroom, ready to collect her piss and test it.