[shhhsecretsideblog]

‘Tis the Season

Christmas Themed birth story. Mary and Joseph are preparing to open a Christmas Village when a snow storm hits. As they try to protect their livestock and seasonal displays in the barn, Mary goes into labour.

Co-written with my fav - @wootenbassett75 💜 Content: unplanned birth, clothing birth, stimulation to aid labour, older parents, character names are satire and not even mentioned lol. 17.8k words.

Also on AO3 and DeviantArt

URGENT WEATHER FORECAST

“Attention all residents of the tri-country area, please be aware of a major snow storm inbound. We will go to Charlie for the latest, Charlie?”

The camera cut away from the finely dressed news anchor, panning to a blonde in front of a large screen showing the local area, along with nothing but snow and ice estimates.

“Thank you Dan. This storm is currently forecasted to be dropping over thirty six inches of snow over the next two days. Snowfall rates tonight and into tomorrow morning are estimated to reach over three inches an hour in some areas of the north counties.”

There was a pause in the Weathergirl’s speaking as she examined her notes. 

“Wind and dropping temperatures are going to make this blizzard among the worst we have seen in over twenty years. Wind gusts up to forty miles an hour with a wind chill dropping the temperature to negative ten degrees. Emergency services are warning that they won’t be able to respond to calls during the night due to the risks on the roads, so stay in, bundle up, and stay safe.”

It cut back to the male anchor, Dan.

“And it goes without saying, bring your pets inside, if you’re cold, good chance they are too. This has been Dan Stevens and Charlie Clearwater with your urgent weather update…”

—————

The ‘Christmas Village’ was more of a blizzard nightmare. The small attractions that the kids could sit on, the Christmas tree forest, even the ticket booth itself was so covered in snow that the village just disappeared. Joseph trudged through the snow, the wind already so fierce that he fought to stay vertical. The cold was in his bones now, and he quietly cursed himself for not believing the forecast. Weathermen always over exaggerated, it was his experience, his wife’s, his fathers, hell, everyone in this damned county knew not to believe the weather forecasts. So why in the name of all that is holy had this one time been correct? He was actively making his way to the barn. As soon as the storm rolled in, he and his wife started bringing the animals inside. 

Today was to be the opening day of the village, the reindeer all out and prepared for the sleigh rides they offered. It was Joseph's job to bring them all in, while Mary was to get some of the hay and the stables prepped for however long this would last. Of course he had tried to tell her their eldest son would help, after all, he just turned fifteen and was more than capable, but he wasn’t going to argue with her about it, especially in her current… condition. So he was left with his three younger siblings at the house while Mary and Joseph went to the Christmas Village just down the road from their home. Joseph finally reached the barn, mostly by luck, as he couldn’t actually see the door till he’d nearly ran into it. He furiously kicked at the snow, trying to unwedge the side door they used.

“Bastard.” He regretted speaking instantly, feeling the freezing air invade his lungs. Enough of the snow was kicked to permit him to open the door. The wind fought back of course, but a determination and desire for warmth overcame the blizzard. He was in, his dark brown winter coveralls coated in snow. “Honey?” He called, trying to pinpoint his wife.

“In here.” Mary shouted from the other side of the barn, her voice raised to be heard over the wind that had started howling. 

Her gloved hands gripped the wooden handle of the rake as she dragged it across the floor of one of the stables. trying to separate the clumps for the reindeer and horses. Whilst there was heating inside the barn, the temperature outside had dropped to such a level that she kept on most of the layers upon layers of clothing. Plus she didn’t have the motivation to attempt to remove any items by herself; dressing was a two-person job these days during the final weeks of pregnancy. Pausing her raking for a moment, Mary took a couple of deep breaths and arched her spine, placing a fist into the lower curve of her back where it was twinging from all the physical labour. She wasn’t regretting her decision to help out with the Christmas Village and make sure all their animals, props and decorations survived the storm; Lord knows if their teenage son was here instead he’d only be moping around and dragging his feet and doing a half-assed job. Which would only stress her out more than if she did it herself. 

“What’s it like out there darling?” She asked as the sound of Joseph’s giant winter shoes clomped nearer and he appeared at the doorframe of the stable, absolutely covered in snow. “Ha… you look like Jack Nicholson in The Shining.” Mary laughed, leaning slightly on the rake and cradling her bump. 

Joseph laughed. 

“Should I start chasing you through the corn maze then?” He asked, coming up to plant a kiss on her cheek. “I think I got an axe around here somewhere to complete the look.” 

The barns layout was simple in design. Where he and his wife stood, stables housed the horses and reindeer. Towards the rear they had the sleigh, while the corner in the far side housed the hay bales. He could see that Mary had already moved some to feed the animals, a task he’d planned to do as soon as he got here. Joseph gave his wife a disapproving look.

“What did I tell you about those hay bales? I don’t want you lifting them, the doc said it could strain you too much.” As he spoke, he took a small set of pliers, going into the stall with her to break the thin sheet of ice forming over the animals water buckets. 

“Yeah well…. I didn’t want to wait for you to get back. There’s a lot to do and I wanted to keep busy and keep warm.” She said dismissively. Resuming her two-handed grip on the rake Mary continued to pull at the mound of hay she’d left by the stall door to create an even layer on the ground for the animals. 

Standing wide legged not only for balance but from the baby nestled in her pelvis, she was grateful to be wearing her shorter length coat to allow for the more secure stance. With thermal leggings and a long-sleeve insulated maternity top, an oversized knitted jumper over that, knee high brown boots, a scarf and fur lined padded coat, the mother-to-be was wrapped up tighter than a burrito. 

The horses in the stall were more interested in the newly available water now Joseph has cracked the thin layer of ice, giving Mary some space to work. She lasted a half dozen strokes across the floor but but wasn’t long before she felt the returning tightening in her belly. Pausing her raking for a moment, she muttered quietly. “Plus that ship has sort of sailed…” she replied to Joseph’s earlier comment about being worried she’d strain herself. Planting the rake into the floor, Mary held firm to the wooden handle as she calmly breathed through another contraction, shifting her hips slightly side to side beneath her thick layers of clothing. 

“You know, they say marriage works better when partners listen.” Joseph chuckled. He came up behind her, rubbing her back through the layers. Joseph doubted it would be much more than an afterthought of pressure to her thanks to all the warm clothes. “If your back is hurting then sit down. We will be done here soon then we’re gonna get you home and off your feet. That isn’t a request or suggestion. Your stubborn streak is gonna give me more gray hairs than the kids.”

Joseph kissed her cheek again, then grabbed a rake of his own to pick up where she left off. The reindeer were getting cabin fever it seemed, tossing hay out of their stalls into the center of the barns walkway. The horses at least seemed content. He’d managed to clear a sleeping area for one stall and lay out fresh hay before glancing back at the horses.

“Think we should put the coats on the horses hon? Can’t imagine they’re feeling too warm right now.” 

“Sure.” Mary said, unzipping her warm coat and bracing her hands into her lower back as she waddled over to collect the first of the four coats for the horses. 

“Jeeze, these are heavy.” She complained, lifting it onto her forearm to carry it over to Joseph. “Or am I just too pregnant to do anything these days? Here.” 

Joseph was beside the horse, their chestnut brown pride and joy, settling the animal and getting them into position. As Mary lifted the thick insulated double-layered coat she felt the gentle twisting of her uterine muscles. A sharp inhale through her nose, the cold whipping into her pink-tinged nostrils, and she breathed her way through it quietly. She wasn’t surprised Joseph hadn’t picked up on her earlier comment, the ship having sailed i.e. there’s no point in worrying about me straining myself cos I’m already in labour darling. But the storm was the main focus, it had to be. They’ve invested all their money on this damn Christmas village in an attempt to make more income during the long winter months. They had to keep all the props and the sleigh and the decorations safe or it would be money down the drain. Plus of course their animals. The extension of their already large family. They needed to be warm, safe, and calm. And her husband would be none of those things for the animals if he knew she was in labour. It was their fourth child. Her body knew the drill and it would be hours yet. No need to worry or panic unnecessarily. 

While Joseph busied himself with securing the coat on the first horse, Mary waddled back to the rack to collect the next one. Her hand cradled her belly, as much as was possible through the layers of clothing, and allowed herself a brief grimace while facing away from her husband when the contraction peaked. 

The two stalls Joseph cleaned next were easy. The mares quite literally organized their excrement, only doing their ‘business’ in the corners opposite of where they slept. He scooped it all out, then threw down fresh hay for them as well as wood shavings as makeshift bedding. Joseph only spared a momentary glance at his wife over by the rack where they’d tie the horses for cleaning as well as stored many of the cleaning supplies. Catching her breath he assumed, as per usual. She really should have told their eldest to come here instead.

The horses now settled, Joseph walked towards Mary to get food for the reindeer. The feed was kept in a large plastic trash can, the intention being to prevent any rats from getting inside. Each reindeer would get four scoops to go with their hay.

“You know you are allowed to sit down for a second right? Baby girl’s the boss here I think.” Joseph said as he returned towards the stalls. “If she wants mama to sit down and relax you should listen. Seeing as you don’t wanna listen to your husband.” His teasing manner was exposed by the smile he couldn’t hide. 

Mary smiled, while her hand moved affectionately across her belly over the chunky knit of her oversized jumper. “She’s restless. As is her mother.” 

Mary took the scoop from Joseph’s hand. “I’ll feed the reindeer, can you start putting the plastic sheeting over the sleigh? If anything starts dripping through the roof I don’t want that to get any water damage.” 

It took some manoeuvring around her bump, but Mary successfully bent over to fill the large scoop with the feed for the reindeer and then waddled over to the first stall. She took a breather at the doorframe, pouring the contents into the metal trough while she breathed through yet another contraction. They had a little bite to them now, but it wasn’t unexpected or unfamiliar. Labouring was something her body handled well, she’d done it three times already and could do it again. They just had to get everything finished up in here first and then she could think about baby number four. 

She kept focused, pacing back and forth between the container of feed and each of the animal stalls that lined one side of the barn. One, two, three and four scoops. Then on to the next one. And the next. Moving seemed to help with the unease bubbling away inside, brought on by the storm she assumed. It never occurred to her that her restless energy was due to the advancement of her labour. Not until one particularly bad pain had her bracing the door to one of the stalls and dropping the empty plastic scoop to the floor. “Ohhh…..” the groan slipped out before she could stop it.

Joseph had just finished covering the sleigh with a tarp. Seeing as it was kept in a barn, it was always a little on the dirty side, but dryer sheets were stuffed into every nook and cranny to stave off rats from making nests. They’d need to make a note on their fridge to unravel it the night before opening so that he could properly clean it and polish the surface. He was about to double check some of the other decorations when Mary’s unintentional groan called to him. It wasn’t hard to spot her. 

“Mary?” He called. Her lack of an immediate response churned something in his stomach. The barn was crossed before he even realized he’d started to move. “Darlin you ok?” A hand rested on her back, a comfort he imparted even when she wasn’t carrying a child. “That wasn’t just a hard kick, was it?”

Mary shook her head, blowing out all the air in her lungs slowly through pursed lips. “Hooooo…. Nope…. I think this little one might have decided to join us for Christmas.” 

Still leaning against the stall door with her gloved hands flat against the wood, Mary turned her head towards her husband, a nervous smile brightening her face. “Typical timing eh? You said we’d be lucky to open the Christmas Village before baby comes.” 

Once the worst of the contraction had ebbed away, she straightened and pushed away from the door, instead curling towards her husband for a reassuring embrace. 

Flashbacks of the previous kids' births came to him. How long did it actually take? If his memory was right, their eldest was well over a twenty four hour labor. Their second and third born had taken slightly longer than that, but the couple had assumed it was simply because they were more attuned to knowing the signs. He’d missed it this time somehow, unless this truly was the beginning.

“She just wanted to be a helper is all.” He whispered as they embraced. Marys belly pressed against his stomach, bringing a smile to his face. Joseph’s awe towards his wife was biblical. Everything this woman accomplished was inspiring, especially when taking into account how she had raised three great children, and had been the one to tell Joseph they could go for a fourth.

“How close are they? Past the… shoot I can’t remember how many minutes we were tracking with the others.” As he stood there, the love of his life in his arms, he swayed with her, slow like a waltz.

Mary lifted her arms, looping them automatically around her husband’s neck as he began to sway. It was as if he knew exactly how to help her in this moment, before the thoughts could even formulate inside her own head. Moving helped, it always did when she was labouring. Though it had been quite a number of years since they last did this; they had a fifteen year old, a ten year old, and a seven year old. Medical advice was bound to have changed in that time, but the ancient act of childbirth was all too familiar to Mary and her body. 

“I’ve not been timing them.” She confessed, resting her head on the cushion of Joseph’s thick winter jacket. “Assumed they were just braxtons at first, but they’re definitely consistent, and stronger than practice ones.” 

Inhaling deeply, Mary let the familiar comforting scent of Joseph’s aftershave fill her lungs and bring a feeling of stability into her veins. “I want to keep busy though. There’s still so much to do out here and you know I’m not going to be able to relax into this birth until it’s all done and we’re sure we haven’t lost all our money with damaged decorations and sick animals.” 

“Fair enough hon.” He said. The couple stayed there for a moment longer, neither particularly wanting to break the contact. Mary was right though, they couldn’t delay what they were doing, and just sitting awaiting the baby to come wasn’t their way. Only a handful of tasks really remained, finishing feeding, double checking the decorations, making sure no snow was leaking in, and ensuring the roof was still stable with all the added weight. Forty-five minutes, maybe an hour tops. As soon as they were done Joseph would take Mary home, put the kids in front of the tv with some dinner, and get her comfortable.

The embrace finally broke, his arms moving to hold the underside of her belly. Even through the thick clothes he could tell their daughter was active. 

“No heavy lifting, deal? Only light busywork for you Miss.” His voice was stern, leaving little to no room for argument.

“Fine.” Mary scoffed, but couldn’t deny it was probably for the best. Not that she even could do any heavy lifting these days, but there was a small part of her that instantly balked when told she couldn’t do something. “I’ll carry on feeding the reindeer then.” 

With a grunt of effort Mary bent down to pick up the plastic scoop for the animal feed from where it had dropped to the floor and moved around the barn to continue the task at hand. She pulled the zip on her coat open a little, finding her body temperature warmer with the gentle moving and contractions. They didn’t have a clock in the barn, and she had left her phone in the house for the kids to play games. So she didn’t know how much time passed before the next contraction bubbled on the horizon. It wasn’t any worse than the previous one and at least now she didn’t have to hide her expressions, or her stopping mid-task in order to breathe through the discomfort.  

Joseph left to go up to the loft. After taking extra measures on the decorations he moved on to checking the roof for any signs of wear or weakness. He found none, and was silently thankful that Mary had insisted on them installing a new roof during the summer. He, admittedly, had gotten distracted after that.

Mary was walking, well, walking was the wrong word. Joseph leant on the railing of the loft, simply enjoying the sight of her. Four kids, the concept still boggled him. They both originally agreed to three, but when their youngest started school, well, things happened. Every few minutes he watched her stop, adjust, take a deep breath, and continue. He knew she was uncomfortable, hurting even, but he also knew her stubborn streak. More than once he contemplated going down, especially as her contractions made her become audible over the storm outside. But, she’d just say she was fine and to continue with his chores.

He gave her one last look, her hand either on her lower back, or cupping her belly, before going back to the loft to look around. There, he found his next distraction. An old collection of items they’d found after buying the barn and its surrounding area. It was obviously a very old nativity complete with a manger and wooden cutouts for all those involved. Joseph appreciated the craftsmanship and thought it would be a perfect addition to their Christmas Village. 

Downstairs, Mary continued her slow moving feeding of the reindeers. She would pause with each new contraction that arrived, welcoming the sensations that she knew were signs of steady progress. Their daughter was curled up in her pelvis, the solid feeling of the head had been a source of lightening crotch the last few days. But now with the contractions that pressure was becoming more irrefutable, her gait wider than ever, and each move felt like her body was loosening up and getting ready for an indescribable adventure. She rode out a few more contractions in a short space of time; in the next stall, by the plastic bucket of animal feed, then one happened mid-way between the two and she had to drop a scoop full of feed in order to hold onto the wooden support beam in the centre of the barn.

The crash of plastic on the floor followed by a groan of discomfort caught Joseph’s attention again.

“Hon?”

Mary’s inability to answer with anything other than a moan was all that spurred him to walk back to the edge. The central pillar was also the main support for the loft, and allowed him to look straight down at her. 

“How we feeling hon?” He asked. Even in this cold, he couldn’t help noticing the sheen to her skin. She was sweating? It had to be near zero outside, yet he was damn sure Mary was panting like it was a hundred degrees in the barn.

“Ughhhh… just—just dandy…. Hooooooo…” Mary hummed long and low, arms stretched out in front of her as she pressed her weight against the beam and stuck her ass out behind. 

This contraction was taking its sweet time in cresting, tighter and tighter her muscles clenched around the baby in her belly, moving all that weight and pressure downwards towards a singular point. She grunted, right as the wave peaked its worst, leaving her breathless. 

When she recovered she let go of the beam and tilted her head towards the rattling roof, the storm whipping snow and wind across the barn. Her husband’s expression was a perfect mix of concern and pride; his bushy eyebrows had furrowed but hips lips were half pulled into a grin. 

“Enjoying the view up there?” She jokingly snapped towards Joseph with a playful tone of a couple who’d been married many many years. 

“Quite a bit actually.” He retorted, smirking. “I do believe I might’ve spotted a few grey hairs on that pretty head of yours.” Joseph raised an eyebrow, partially squinting as if examining her. “Hmmm, yep I see two new ones.” 

The whistling wind outside gave their conversation a consistent background noise. Shifting panels added to it, an arrhythmic clanking of metal. Even now as they spoke to one another, Joseph noticed a small collection of snow gathering near the doors. Oh good, more gaps to fill. His gaze returned to his wife. That sheen was still apparent, and he couldn’t help wondering if those beads of sweat might freeze. After a healthy amount of staring at her face, his eyes drifted to her bump. The fur-lined padded coat was pulled tight over the orb of her belly making it difficult to clearly see its shape, but her stance and facial expressions told him all he needed to know. 

“Can I convince you to take a ten minute break? I think we still have those water bottles stored for the concession stand.” A gut feeling said they likely were frozen solid, but it could be worth a shot. If anything she might be able to use them to cool down a little.

“Um…. Yeah okay.” Mary said quietly. She wanted to stay on her feet, keep moving and keep busy, but that last contraction really knocked the wind out of her. All that huffing and puffing was making her mouth awfully dry, and she was becoming aware of just how damp the back of her neck had gotten. 

“Can you come down then and help me clean up this food?” Mary nodded towards the pellets now scattered over the concrete floor. “Damn… sorry I wasted so much. I don’t know what happened, one minute I was heading back to the stall and the next my hands were on that beam.” 

Mary stayed where she was, one hand still on the beam while the other pressed into the base of her spine, the gentle rocking of her hips was unconscious but necessary. The heaviness seemed to be focused right in the depths of her pelvis and the only relief she could get was by shifting and swaying. 

“Yeah yeah, you just want to see my ass as I bend over to get the food.” Creaking accompanied each step as he descended, one particularly loud crossmember gave far too much sway as he moved. With feet firmly planted on the floor, he walked to her. Joseph knew the food was important to clean and pick up, but the focus on his wife was more important. She seemed off still. There was no doubt that Mary was telling the truth of all she knew, but there must be something more.

Joseph took her face in his hands, and planted a kiss upon her forehead. 

“Don’t worry about that.” He told her. “Food can be replaced. Besides, I spotted the reindeer eating a can yesterday. Lil dirt from the floor isn’t gonna hurt them.” He supported his wife for a few moments longer before letting her go back to the column. Mary knew when she’d need to sit down, and he had no intentions of trying to force her. Joseph walked to the food storage, searching around for a dustpan. It was a simple tool, an aluminum pan with a wood handled bristle brush. It worked for all messes. Mary was still there when he came back, her sway slow and rhythmic. Her stance seemed wider, and while it was hard to tell with the thick clothing he swore her knees were bent ever so slightly.

Joseph shook the thoughts away, and got to cleaning the spilled food.

With her husband nearby Mary relaxed a little. Then came the next contraction. Before she’d even had a chance to get that bottle of water that had been offered. It was forceful, tight and unrelenting in its wringing of her uterus. She found herself returning to that earlier position; wrapping both hands around the support beam and bending over slightly, letting her bump hang towards the ground while her hips rocked side to side. 

“Ohhhhhh…. Hooooo….” The sounds were an automatic response to the sensations ravaging her body. Low, long humming sounds accompanied each strained exhale. 

The temperature in the barn was cool, even with the heating on, but despite the winter storm outside Mary was getting warmer by the minute. She felt caged and trapped in her layers of clothes. She wanted to rip off her coat during this latest contraction but daren’t move from her current position as the beam was providing too much support in her stance. “Ohhhh god….” She moaned, eyes scrunching with the peak of the wave that spiked to a level she wasn’t expecting. 

Before Mary knew, her husband was right there, hand firmly peddling into her lower back. The pressure eased, but Joseph realized it was because she was lowering herself instinctually. The floor had spots of water below her face, and Joseph quickly put together that she was really sweating now. 

“I’m gonna move you a bit honey.” He said, quietly. “Just wanna get your jacket off.” The fabric was stretched tight over her womb, but he managed to unzip it. Heat radiated from within as the last little clip separated and the layers beneath were exposed. Three or four more layers were beneath, but her fur lined winter coat was by far the heaviest. 

“Easy does it.” He took her hand off the pillar, sliding out that arm, and replaced it on the pillar. Then, the process was repeated with the other. He was just in time to stop her from losing balance as the next contraction built. Joseph tossed her jacket to the side, and held her hips, assisting the sway. “Breathe through it. I’ll get to work as soon as it passes…” And soon, it did.

When it finished Mary continued to waddle around the barn busying herself during what she assumed to be early labour, unimpeded by the constant worrying of her husband who stayed close by but not too close. Joseph was quick to finish feeding the reindeer, and even went as far as cleaning the fresher messes they’d just made. 

Chores went on, but every time a contraction came, Joseph paused, gazing at his wife. Beneath all those layers his body was tensed, ready to run to her at a moments notice. Maybe they could go home, get her laying down in bed. He’d return tomorrow to finish up and check the animals. Just from the sound outside he knew this storm was getting worse, and their trip home became more perilous by the second. That squat and bend she kept doing were getting deeper each time she moaned. And the noises she made grew as exponentially as her positions changed.

“Mary?” He said as he walked back over. “Don’t bite my head off honey but, these are getting real bad real quick.” He tucked his hand beneath a few layers at her neckline and felt the heat of her body. “You sure this isn’t actually further than you thought?”

“Mmmmghh….m’fine…” she mumbled and shook her head dismissively. Mary had ended up at one of the windows, insulation wadding in one hand while the other currently braced the windowsill as her hips rocked back and forth. “Have to keep busy… so much to d-do…” 

The windows were old, the surrounding wood slightly cracked in places, which wasn’t a problem during the warmer months but with the rapidly falling snow covering the lower half of the glass there was cool air whipping into the barn. Mary was doing her best to cover any gaps, wedging insulation in any place where air was getting through so as to protect the animals from the freezing temperatures outside. 

But the contraction was holding her hostage, keeping her from the task. Instead she squeezed the insulation in her hand and bent towards the window, her breathing rapidly requiring more and more of her focus. She opened her mouth to speak, to reassure her husband everything was fine, but she was struggling to speak through the harsh weight in the bowl of her pelvis. 

All that came from her mouth was a low rumbled sound as the contraction reached its crescendo and her knees trembled slightly. Not from the cold. From the sudden fullness in her hips. Which gave way just as promptly as it arrived. 

It wasn’t the hum, it wasn’t her movements. The small nuances of his wife’s labor he knew well, but as she’d been working through that contraction there was a sharp inhale. He didn’t hear it, but just looking at Mary’s back he knew. Her shoulders jerked, and her body jolted ever so slightly, like she’d touched a tea pot she hadn’t realized was still too hot to move. Joseph wrapped his arm around her, a hand gripping hers as the other took hold of the underside of her stomach.

Something was off, and he noticed it immediately.

Earlier that day, when the couple had gotten dressed to head to the barn, Mary filled out her winter clothing to the point she’d had to suck in her bump a bit to button them. The momentary discomfort was a necessary issue to stop her freezing to death. Now though, the clothes covering her belly were loose. Not by much, but Joseph’s intimate knowledge of his wife’s curves told him that she was now changed from mere minutes ago. 

“It’s ok baby, breathe.” The smallest hint of panic laced his words. Without telling her the reason, he gently moved his hand beneath the long knitted jumper she wore feeling her belly over the thermal maternity leggings. The bump was certainly smaller, and oblong in shape. The rock hard surface wasn’t what stopped him though. He reached lower, and found a damp, warm spot that from the outside was hidden. His heart froze faster than the blizzard outside could ever manage.

“Mary…” He said, wide eyed. “Mary you’re water broke.”

“Hmmm…. Yup…. Hoooo…. I guess this one might be more eager than her siblings to arrive.” Mary said softly now the contraction has passed, shifting her weight off the windowsill and back into her husband’s sturdy embrace. 

In truth she felt it the moment it happened, that sudden spike and release of pressure. There was an element of hopeful denial still present until the warmth appeared between her thighs. Now Joseph’s hand was beneath her jumper, initially cradling the lowest part of her bump but then moved south to the apex of her legs, now damp with amniotic fluid.  

“We’ve still got loads to sort out in here Joseph…. But I guess you’re not gonna be convinced to let us finish up before we go back to the house are you?” Mary said with an echo of a coy smile. Her head turned back to face him, her back still pressed against his chest as he held her supportively. It was one thing riding out early labour contractions and doing these chores, but with her waters now broken… they should probably start getting ready for baby’s arrival. 

“Not a chance in hell darlin.” He said, leaning in to press his lips against hers. “I’m going to go get the truck started. One step at a time, your pace.” Joseph’s soft voice barely surpassed the wind outside, but his words held all the love and affection nearly twenty years of marriage could manage.

They walked, slowly, his arm around her waist to encourage her forward, while the other still gripped her hand. Thankfully they only paused once. A contraction, fierce enough that Mary’s grip transferred some of the pain to her husband. 

“Breathe. It’s ok baby, you remember how it goes.” He took a deep breath in, and exhaled. They waited for it to pass, and Joseph mentally clocked how long it had been, and once over, started counting till the next. The side door to the barn was simple, the very same he’d walked in only an hour or two before. He made sure Mary was supported against the wall before trying the door. He pushed, and found it wouldn’t budge. Joseph frowned, putting his shoulder into the door. A fraction of an inch was all he got before it went back as it was.

“Dammit.” He hissed. “Cmon…” Joseph slammed into the door so hard snow came in from the momentary opening. He turned to Mary, apologetically. “I think the snow built up too much. I’ll try the other door.” He left her without another word, aiming to try the other small door. The barn had three in total, two small person sized entries, and the one large sliding door. He wasn’t going to bother with that one, knowing it was padlocked from the outside.

“Hmmmmm…. Ohhhh Joseph please don’t mess with me… I don’t think I can handle one of your jokes right now… uhhhh…” Mary groaned, planting her palms against the wall where her husband had left her and rotating her hips side to side. 

How was the next contraction already happening?! It felt like she’d only just had one. Mary closed her eyes, blocking out the sound of Joseph jogging from one door to the other, concentrating on her breathing. In-two-three-four— Out-two-three-four. Without the cushioning of her waters the sensation of their baby’s head grinding into the depths of her pelvis made her stomach churn and odd sounds to escape. She jutted her hips back as she lent forward against the wall, trying to remember how to listen to her body’s cues. It had been years since she last did this, she just hoped her body could make it through and recover easily. 

“God I wish I was joking darlin…” He said. The other door opposite where Mary stood was so wigged down with snow that even hitting it as hard as he could with his shoulder wouldn’t move it an inch. The snow by now had to be multiple feet high for that sort of weight to counter him. He knew that it wasn’t truly that much snow on the ground, but the infinite drifts coming along with the high winds. “Shit!” Joseph’s foot planted firmly in the door, one last defiant attempt before hope left him. They were trapped.

Mary’s moans echoed, the sheer volume now on par with the dying wind. At least that was one benefit, he told himself. If the barn got enough snow on it the sound of the wind would be muffled. He returned to his wife’s side, sole focus on her and the baby. He didn’t know what to do, not in this situation. Yes they had kids, but seven years was a long time, and his memory of their youngest birth was only of their drive to the hospital with an eight year old and a two year old in the back seat.

“Breathe baby.” He told her. “We will figure something out. I promise.”

“Uggghh…. What’s…what’s the problem?” Mary tried to keep talking through the contraction but found her words hitching on the gulps of air she was taking. Tight, twisting, aggressive pulses in her womb made her face scrunch and a whimper to ready itself in her throat. 

“Why…aren’t…we…leaving…?” She panted. “Ohhhh god-!” The contraction peaked, spiking to a new level, and her knees nearly buckled. Joseph quickly grabbed her hips, pressing up against her body from behind to keep her supported and upright in her forward-lean against the wall. The contraction was too strong, too powerful, after the breaking of her waters and Mary struggled to stay focused on anything except the slow building pressure in her pelvis. 

“Well, a minor inconvenience came up honey.” He kept her rocking side to side. Joseph felt her knees trying to bend, and his grip tightened to prevent a potential fall. “So uh, how about we just have her here? You know, in the barn?” A nervous chuckle that had no humor emerged with the statement. “I-I mean it’s warm, we have water, there’s… blankets…”

Mary groaned, a deep sound not related to Joseph’s statement. The contraction had finally let her go and she melted back against her husband. 

“D-don’t be ridiculous! I am not having our child in a barn!” Mary snapped, assuming Joseph was just trying to be funny. Her eyes had closed, her hands now off the wall and instead were making large circles around her bump that was full and stretched beneath the knit of her jumper dress. It served no purpose except to provide some level of comfort and possibly to sooth the baby inside. 

“Stop joking around and just get me out of here honey.” She said, lifting her head and trying to ready herself for the long walk from the barn to the truck. 

“That’s not happening.” Joseph said plainly. “Mary, I need you to stay calm… the snow is too high, and the doors are all blocked. We aren’t getting out of here, not for a while.” As an extra form of comfort for his laboring wife, he lifted the back of her knit sweater, digging beneath layers of fabric till he found bare skin. It was slick with sweat, and while normally he knew she didn’t like his cold hands after being outside, he hoped this time it might soothe her overly warm body.

“Oh! Bloody hell—” Mary gasped in surprise, Joseph’s icicle fingers suddenly on her back. But then she moaned in relief, head tilting back onto his shoulder. “Mmmmh… you’re damn lucky… ooooh.. I’m in labour and overheating. Otherwise I might have slapped you for that.” She almost purred as she relished the cool touch of her husband's hand that pressed into her lower back in just the right place. 

After a beat, the information sank in and Mary opened her eyes, turning in Joseph’s hold to face him. Her eyes wide and uncertain. 

“So…we’re…. we’re trapped in our barn, snowed in, and I’m in labour with our fourth kid who seems to be in a hurry… is that what you’re saying?” The words felt more akin to a soap opera than the life of a married couple living on a farm. 

“If you wanna put a label on it… yes.” He told her, trying to smile. “But we will be alright, like I said, there’s blankets, warmth… kinda, and plenty of space.” 

The look in his wife’s eyes told him that slap was still on the table. The turn Mary had made to face him inadvertently lifted her sweater and shirt, ending with his hands on either side of her misshapen womb. His thumbs caressed it, already matching her body’s heat thanks to the back rub. 

“We got this hon. I promise.”

Mary pulled her lips into a forced smile, trying to mirror her husband's confidence. “You sound pretty sure…. But I’m not… how can we do this? By ourselves? In a fucking barn!” 

The telltale sign of the next incoming contraction was given away when her last words went up an octave and her swollen chest hitched to gulp down oxygen. Her arms moved without thought to loop around Joseph’s neck, her face burying into the thick wool of his coat as a hiss slipped past her teeth. A firm ball of granite now rested in her husband's palm where her soft pliable bump once was - the contraction hitting her full force. 

The incredible weight of their daughter pressed down into her pelvis, forcing her knees to part and bend slightly. Mary hung from her husband's sturdy frame, moaning deeply and circling her hips around the growing pressure. 

“Ohhhhhhh…. Jos-seph…. Uhhhhh… this h-hurts so much more than—ooooof— I remember…." Mary whimpered slightly, clinging to her best friend and husband for dear life. The pressure may have been astronomical but they both knew it was just the beginning. And the sounds she made in childbirth weren’t entirely foreign, the husky sound of her moans echoing around the snow-covered barn. 

“I know hon.” Joseph’s words were soft with encouragement. “If we are stuck here…” He took a deep breath before spoke again, the gravity of his next sentence far too important to just say outright. “I want you to listen to your body. There’s no chance we keep her in till the snow is gone, so don’t hurt yourself. Moan, push, cry, bite, do whatever you must.” The contraction, still gripping his wife, allowed his palm on her skin to actually feel the outline of her womb. Joseph waited for her body to release its hold, all the while running fingers through her sweat matted hair.

“Breathe.” He soothed, letting Mary’s full weight hang on him. “Breathe through it Mary.” His wife knew him well enough to actually hear when he was smiling, an expression he wore now without remorse.

With a squeeze of her fingers on his broad shoulders, the contraction finally let go and Mary sighed with relief. She lifted her head, a smile ghosting across her face to match her husband. 

“This, is nuts. And so bloody typical.” The comforting touch of her husband and his confident reassurance was enough to pull the labouring woman from the edge of panic. “I mean every one of our other children took their sweet time. But this one? I can already tell she’s going to be a handful.” 

Reluctantly Mary pulled away from Joseph, needing to shift and move a little, a biological drive to keep her body in motion to help and aid in the mammoth task ahead. Her hand went to her lower back, arching back to stretch out the tightness lingering in her spine. The move jutted her bump forwards and her husband was quick to make possessive contact with the evidence of his impending offspring. 

“Hey now…. Don’t give me that look, it’s what got us here in the first place.” She playfully scolded. “I think I wanna move around a little, if we’re really stuck here I don’t want to stay in one spot. I already feel a little claustrophobic just knowing there’s too much snow blocking the doors.” 

“Actually, my love, I believe it was a bottle of wine and a back massage coupon I’d given you for your birthday.” Joseph retorted, his smile never ceasing. The couple began long, slow circuits around the interior of the barn. There wasn’t much in the way of unique routes, but Joseph steered Mary through the different areas. The bales first, then to the stalls, then over to the sleigh, to the brushing and storage area, to the center pillar, and back again.

Eyes examining her like a hawk, Joseph mentally catalogued her every breath, any and all movements of her body whether they were voluntary or not. On the second circuit, and three more contractions down, Joseph noticed her stance widen. It was marginal, barely an inch or two of difference, but to him it was a sign of things moving.

“She really is an impatient one.” He said, still rubbing Mary’s back. The back of her knit sweater and shirt was lifted, her skin exposed. With the excess body heat she radiated, Joseph could actually see steam coming off her skin. 

“Ooooh…. Can you hold and press my hips for this o-one…” Mary asked as she stopped with the first twinges in her womb, a contraction firmly on its way with very little warning anymore. They were on their third circuit and currently by the stalls that housed the horses and reindeer. 

With a fast shuffle Mary made a beeline to the nearest stall, its half-door bolted shut, and immediately planted her arms along its top edge. Folding her arms she buried her face in the crook of her elbow while her ass and hips stayed behind, jutting backwards with the strength of the contraction forcing her pelvis open. Her husband’s hands were quick to grip her, not painfully but strong enough to make a difference. She growled, a combination of pain and thankful relief. 

With her waters long gone, Mary could feel every centimetre of their child taking up room inside the narrowest point in her body. It forced her pant, the pressure creaking her hips apart, the weight that was getting more and more persuasive with every clench of her uterus. 

“Ughhhh….harder….put your full weight against m-me…J-Joseph-!” She managed as the contraction reached a peak she wasn’t ready for.

“Ok! Ok…” Joseph did as she asked. Mary was pressed against him, his grip on her becoming more vice like than before. Thumbs dug into the base of her spine, and in the back of his mind he knew she’d have bruises as a result. That however, was not the concern at the moment. Joseph widened his stance, a foot behind him so that as she pressed against him, they wouldn’t both lose balance. “You’re doing great love.”

The raging storm only grew louder, wind becoming a howl as the direction changed, and caused the roof to shudder. The window that not long before Mary had failed to fully insulate blew open, a torrent of snow coming in with malicious intent. All the heat left the barn before the contraction even ended, and Joseph knew they needed to close it. Mary couldn’t do this alone though, even if she thought she could, he wasn’t going to leave her side till their daughter was here. That only left two options, he makes her walk with him to try and close the window, or they suffer the cold as she labors. 

“Nnnghh—what-was-that-?” Mary groaned, hearing the bang of the window flying open. 

Joseph told her the wind had blown open a window and she knew they’d have to close it. She already felt the cold air whip around the inside of the barn even with her head buried into her folded forearms. As nice as the cool air was on her sweaty and overheated skin, the freezing temperature wasn’t good for the animals and certainly wouldn't be for a newborn. They had to close it. 

But the contraction still held her uterus in a vice, its strong clenching grip bringing low guttural sounds from her chest. So low! The baby felt so damn low! 

It may have been many many years since she last went through this, but even Mary knew things were progressing quickly. The pressure alone that was building in her pelvis was undeniable evidence of how close she was getting to giving birth. Her husband knew this too, from the way she moved and her desperate pleas for more counterpressure. 

When the contraction ended, Mary took a moment to catch her breath as she had started to pant rather heavily. Slowly lifting her head she released her grip from the stall door. 

“We… we need to close that window darling. B-before the wind and snow undoes all our h-hard work.” She went to move, her husband’s arm wrapping around her waist in preparation for the journey across the barn, but immediately faltered. 

“Ooooo… oh Joseph… baby feels low…. really low….” 

“I know Mary, it’s ok.” His arm held her a little tighter, they couldn't delay getting the window closed. “Focus on breathing, in, and out, just like before.” Whether it was the frigid cold, or her own pain, Mary was shaking in his arms. “Just a few more steps.” Each step was a fight, especially as her weight was placed on him more and more. 

Drifts were already building from the open window, and the torrent of snow trying to turn the interior of the barn into a winter wonderland. By the time they’d reached the halfway point from the stall to the window, a walk that took what felt like an hour but in reality couldn’t have been more than a few minutes, melted snow was beneath their feet. Leading up it was collecting, reaching over an inch in some areas despite the short span of exposure. 

Mary tensed, just as they were getting within arms reach of the window.

“Mary? What’re you doing?” Joseph asked. Beneath his hand he felt her stomach tense once more, and a sound he hadn’t heard in years came from her. “Mary!”

It happened without planning, or thought, or even self-awareness; Mary stopped and bent over, one arm draped around Joseph’s shoulder while the other braced her thigh, and with bent knees a low primal grunting sound roared from the depths of her chest. 

“Nnnnghh—!” 

All the air stayed inside her lungs as every muscle in her body clenched down, down, down. The act of pushing began so suddenly without warning, shocking the both of them, but she couldn’t help it. For a brief ten seconds, Mary lost control and nature took over 

“Hon!” Joseph couldn’t kneel before her for risk of Mary losing her balance, he was forced to stand. “Baby not now, not yet.” They hadn’t even made a makeshift bed for her.

The moment was gone as fast as it struck and on trembling legs Mary curled into her husband's arms to recover and catch her breath. 

“Hoooo…hoooo… oh Joseph…. I’m sorry… I think I just pushed a little bit…? I c-couldn’t stop it…. Oh god… this baby is coming f-fast…..” The quiet sob against her husband’s chest was barely audible over the sound of the wind howling through the open window, but he still heard it. He felt it. The way her back hitched a little with the spike of emotions crashing through his darling wife. 

“It’s ok.” It’s not. “It’s gonna be alright.” Doubtful. Joseph’s mind yelled at him at how bad this could be. All three of their previous children had taken so long, in the back of his thoughts Joseph had imagined that despite her water breaking so soon, Mary wouldn’t actually need to do anything till after the storm passed. But this baby really was coming, and they had no way to stop her.

Arms around his wife, Joseph simply held her close as her tears froze. Gently, he turned with her, making his back face the window to take the brunt of the cold. 

“I… I have to close the window.” He finally said. Frost had started to form on his wife’s hair, the sweat soaked locks becoming their own misshapen icicles on her head. Even as hot as she was feeling, a gut sensation told him that his wife and their new baby wouldn’t survive if the cold continued. “Step with me.” The command was soft, whispered into her ear with encouragement. “Nice and slow Mary…” The couple made it two steps, and Joseph couldn’t stop the shudder as he was blasted with a particularly gruesome gust of snow laced wind. An arm still supporting her, he turned, slamming the window shut, and grabbing a nearby trowel to wedge between the frame and the window itself.

Mary kept a firm grip on Joseph, as they moved and while he shut the window, not trusting her own legs that were quivering inside her thermal insulated leggings. While he worked to close the breach in their warm sanctuary Mary meanwhile focused on her breathing and tried ever so hard not to think about how her pelvis felt like it was being crushed from the inside. 

The immeasurable weight pressing down on her pelvis and cervix was almost nauseating. She could feel the baby moving, restless, probably just as uncomfortable as she was. They both had a tough task ahead of them. 

“Oooohhh… oh-it’s-happening-again—Josephhhhh….” Mary whined against her husband’s chest as the next crest of pressure rolled quickly towards her. “I need.. I need to m-m-mooooove—” 

Mary started to sink towards the snow-covered floor with the returning urge to bear down. But she was more prepared this time; eyes closed she began to pant instead through the colossal pressure sitting right in the depths of her hips, though her lowering squat wasn’t the most reassuring sign for her husband. 

“What?” He stopped her just in time before her squat lowered too far. Snow still littered the ground, and without a doubt if she got down into it, her clothing would be soaked. Hypothermia along with labor was a combo Joseph had zero interest in entertaining. “No you don’t…” Mary needed down, and he struggled to hold all her weight with the awkward grip he had.

“Not here darlin.” Eyes darting, Joseph searched for somewhere she could have support but not be on the floor. The sleigh? No, hard wood combined with a plethora of splinters thanks to a poor sanding. The loft? Plenty of old chairs, but getting her up the ladder was an impossible task. The stalls were too dangerous, the feed area still had snow…

“Walk with me.” He said, though he had little optimism that she could walk. Together, with Joseph keeping most of her weight, the couple moved to the corner of the barn. Despite a rough winter, they still had loads of hay, stacked taller than either of them at its peak. However, many spots were eye level, or even better, at sitting height.

The weight pressing down in her pelvis was relentless, keeping Mary’s legs wide in her ungainly move across the barn. She clung to her husband, huffing and humming through the contraction that kept drawing her instincts to the ground. 

“Ohhhh—ohhhhh- Joseph—! I can’t— baby feels too lowwwww…..” Mary’s voice was strained with the effort of trying to stay standing, not to squat down to relieve the monumental pressure forcing its way through her hips. 

They barely reached the quiet corner of the barn stacked with cubes of hay when the contraction reached its crescendo. Mary pushed herself out of her husband’s grip in a feral animalistic nature, staggering wide-legged with a hand between her thighs, and she collapsed down onto her knees right in front of a tied up bale of hay. Open, she needed her pelvis low and open. Mary’s arms shook as she flung her chest over the block of hay, keeping her knees wide and ass out behind, belly hanging towards the floor while her hands curled over the far edge of the bale of hay. She let out a low growl as she pulled backwards, feeling that pressure sink deeper into her hips, moving through her pelvis which was slowly opening with her rocking kneeling motion. 

“Nnnnghhhh… ohhhhh-god-no…..” she mooed out her words, low and primal, as the contraction peaked. 

“Exhale with the pain.” He ordered.

It was time. What delays might have been possible were now moot. Joseph watched in awe as Mary fought to control herself through the growing wave of the contraction. Helpless to do anything else, he knelt beside her, the ball of his hand firmly pressing into her spine. The hay was a solid support for her to lean on, and Joseph quietly was thankful that it was far too cold for snakes to be hiding in between the stacks.

“How you feeling?” The question was idiotic considering the circumstances, but Joseph was at a loss. How could he do more? Maybe if they were home he could have gotten her stripped and comfortable, but out here? Even in the relative warmth of the barn he was afraid that undressing her could be harmful, and while they did have blankets, they weren’t the warmest in existence.

“P-pressure—just-so-much-pressure…” Mary hummed into the bale of hay, the rough straw scratching her cheek as her face almost squashed against it, but she didn’t care. She couldn’t think beyond the weight in the bowl of her pelvis, a deep biological drive to keep her hips circling around it, as if she could drive it away or find a position that removed its urgency. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t contracting anymore, the steady thrum of nature continued to build. 

“It’s not—going away— the pressure is just there. C-can you h-hold my h-hips together p-please darling…. Feels like…they’re being p-pulled ap-apart….” Her request was quiet but the desperation in her plea was still loud and clear, and the reason for it was as undeniable as the storm outside; their baby was getting closer. 

He didn’t hesitate, rising again to his feet. Before moving to behind her, Joseph leaned in close to her cheek. Hay was in her hair, disheveled and sweating like she’d been working in the field all day, the look reminding him all too well of their first meeting so long ago. 

“We are gonna be ok.” He whispered into her ear. “I’m here, aint going anywhere.” Joseph kissed her cheek, and proceeded to take hold of her hips. Working for so long outside, Joseph had that ‘farmer strength’, applying so much pressure that he worried about hurting her. The effort was only reassured when he visibly saw Mary relax. The movement was barely more than a sigh, but he knew her body language so well that the smallest shift told him how she was doing. 

“Do you need to push?” He hoped she’d say no, but was damned sure that she was already close to that point. That little grunt earlier already told him she was there, but he needed her to say it, to admit openly that it was time. Denying would only lead to more pain for her. Of that, he was certain.

“Hoooooo…. I don’t…know…. Ah….” Mary whimpered beneath his touch, his hands feeling like they were the only thing holding her together right now. 

While her husband kept a steady pressure on each hip, squeezing deliciously together to counter the pressure splitting them apart, she continued to rock on her elbows and knees and Joseph beautifully followed along with her rhythm. 

“Oooooh… it’s just never ending… feels like… ohhhhh like a boulder is in there. Feels…fucking huge…. Ohhhh god…. Another one…” Mary spluttered, readjusting her arms along the depth of the hay bale and gripping the rope on the other side. The next contraction squeezed her uterus and she grunted low and long. 

“Yes—!! Yes I need to p-p-push—Joseph!!” She panicked, trying to hold on as long as she could. She wasn’t ready to have this baby now, hell the storm was still raging and her clothes were still on. The whimper that came from her mouth signaled how much she was holding back, but her body was twitching in dire need to bear down. 

“Mary.” His voice was level. In the past, his wife was always the more level headed, the solidity of the family. Now, she was panicked, frantic even. Joseph had to keep her calm, and guide her. “Mary, you need to push.” A hand left her hip, reaching beneath her clothes to rub at her lower back. “When it comes, you don’t hold back. Bring our baby girl to us.”

As she contemplated his words, Joseph subtly altered her stance. His foot cemented between her legs, gently nudging her knees a bit further apart. His hand also pressed against her, forcing her to lower her hips ever so slightly. He recalled exactly how she’d delivered their other children, the positions she was in. This one was the one she’d seemed to like most. He felt her shaking, and leaned in.

“Push…”

It was as if her body reacted to his words, his instruction. Immediately everything sank south and she was bearing down without intent. Her mouth dropped open, a low rumbling sound of effort spilling from the depths of her chest as she pushed, her cheek now fully planted against the block of hay. 

“Nnnnghhhhh-!!!” Mary grunted, a combination of blissful relief of actually pushing mixed with the undeniable pressure from the baby dropping lower. She gasped, sucking a mouthful of air before going again. Her thighs shook but she focused all her efforts into one singular act. Bearing down. 

Joseph hummed with encouragement. “Good girl, that’s it. Another big push for me darlin’.” 

Mary groaned, a primal lowing sound of effort as she pushed. The baby was shifting, she could feel her pelvis splitting open around the descending child, that pressure reaching and breaching her cervix. “Ohhhhhh…ughhhhh… oh fuck….” Mary groaned after a few more seconds of pushing, then slumping over the bale of hay she began panting to catch her breath back. 

“Oh Joseph…. I dunno… if it’s just been too long since I last did this, but… she feels massive. I barely moved her.” 

“It’s just cause it’s been so long baby.” He reassured her, keeping a hand on her back. "She's  just as big as the others accordin’ to the doc.” There was something wrong with this, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. Somehow, this birth was different, aside from the blatant obviousness of her wanting out fast and choosing a barn of all places to be born. “Remember with the others? Our eldest? As soon as he was born you literally told me ‘that wasn’t so bad.’ You’ll make it through, and we will be laughing about this tomorrow.” 

There weren’t many other ways for her to open up, not from what Joseph could think of. His wife was low, her knees spread, back arched. This was all down to her.

“Do you need to change positions? I can rearrange the bales of hay.” He was just throwing ideas, and if he was honest there was zero expectation of a clear answer considering the pain coursing through Mary’s body.

She shifted her body, a gentle rocking motion forward and back, side to side, reflecting on how she felt and what would be best. Eventually Mary shook her head. 

“No. Wanna stay h-here….” Her words caught a little on the steady weight filling her pelvis more and more each second. Joseph was right - the doctor had said this baby was no different to their others in terms of size. It must just be her older years making this seem harder, but the baby felt bigger, more irrefutable somehow now she’d dropped. 

“Could you…help me relax a bit? Like we did for our second and third?” Mary asked before the next contraction could steal her request. For those births they were a bit more familiar with the process and doing home births each time allowed them to try more intimate ways of relaxing into labour and helping her to open up. Something instinctive told Mary she would need all the help she could get for this one. 

“Of course darlin’.”

Three previous kids, the first a panic of new experiences, the other two far more quiet and controlled. Joseph knew what his wife was asking, and let his hands do the work. Her curves became a canvas, and his fingers the brush he’d use to paint a calming sensation. He began, with lifting her sweater. Her exposed belly glistened with the sweat of exertion, and he took his time letting his fingers caress the stretched tight flesh he found there. 

“Relax baby.” He hummed. “I’ve got you.”

He kept rubbing her stomach, leaning in to press a kiss to her shoulder. Whispers kept coming, but his hand, it moved down. Joseph found her insulated leggings, and slipped beneath. Her undergarments remained wet thanks to her waters breaking, and the cold making it nigh on impossible for them to dry. Joseph started to make little circles between the fabric, all the while keeping his face close to hers. 

Mary’s whole body quivered under his touch. A shudder felt through her soul. 

“Good girl.” He cooed into her ear.

“S-S-Sensitive— ohhhh…” she gasped, Joseph’s ministrations making gentle circles right where she needed. Active labour had transformed every cell in her body into a beacon of sensitivity; the cold on her exposed skin, the heat of her flesh beneath the layers of clothes, the light breath of Joseph’s whispers on her cheek - every sensation was an overwhelming symphony. 

Moving her hips counterclockwise against her husband’s strokes, Mary rocked a little and focused her mind on only the good. Her body was doing something incredible, ancient and inspiring. With the help and support from her best friend, lover, father of her children, she was changing her mindset from seeing pain to productivity. 

“Oooohh… con-contraction’s—comin’—” she hummed. Lowering her head back down on the hay bale, she sunk her pelvis backwards against his hand, chasing that friction and pressure and slowly but surely she found herself pushing down to meet it. Grunting beautifully into the crook of her elbow. 

“That’s it…” He said, a smile on his lips. “You’re doing great.”

The stimulation continued, with Joseph’s movements only increasing in pressure and speed when Mary’s contraction started to grow. Whispers of encouragement came, and he took the time to apply counter pressure to her spine. As she labored, he studied her. When he was moving too slow, her hips increased in their pace. Too fast, and it was as if she was trying to match him in pace to ease the stimulation. He was a patient man though, and worked to find the sweet spot, no matter how long it took.

“Talk to me.” Joseph said. “You think the kids will be excited to see their sister wanted to spend Christmas with them?”

“H-hopefully— unnnghhh— though our y-youngest is annoyed she’s not g-gonna be the youngest anymore—oooohhhhh…!” 

With a sharp inhale, Mary stretched her arms over the bale and pushed hard with the current contraction. Teeth bared and her breath visible in the cold temperature of the barn, she focused all her energy downwards on that gigantic boulder between her hips. The sound from her chest was low and gravelled and thick with animalistic focus. But once it was over she whimpered with frustration. 

“Can you f-feel anything-?” Her words caught on desperation. “It doesn’t feel like anything is ha-happening… she’s still wedged there in my pelvis. It doesn’t feel like I’m doing anything.” 

Mary rolled her hips around while her elbows took most of her weight, her bump hanging parallel to the edge of the hay bale. “Ohhhh the pressure is driving me n-nuts— but when I push— it doesn’t go away.” Her eyes began to well a little in frustration, all her labouring and working to bring the baby down seeming to slow and almost stop. Right at the most intense and crucial stage. 

Joseph’s hand stopped its motions, his focus turning to figuring out whether or not the baby was making progress. Palm flat, he slid deeper into her pants, a frown creasing his features. All this time, all that effort, and he couldn’t even feel the smallest bump from the baby coming out. This wasn’t right, was it? Pushing should have at the very least made them able to feel the head starting to poke out.

“She’s not there babe.” He said, withdrawing from her leggings. Joseph rubbed her stomach for some added comfort as he tried to think. Suddenly, an idea came. “Here, up we go darlin…”

Husband and wife, working together despite him not telling her what he was doing, rose up. There was no way she would be able to stand, not with the levels of exhaustion he knew she felt. Joseph sat on the hay bale, keeping a steady grip on his wife, and slowly he guided her forward towards him. Her advanced labor meant her legs were naturally wide enough for his knees to slip between, and slowly he helped her sit on his lap. Mary groaned against his neck as she sank into a squat, her legs wide and hooked over each of his thighs, her pelvis low between his knees. She had no need to support her own weight or balance, her husband did that for her by wrapping his arms behind her lower back and letting her sling her arms over each of his shoulders. 

“This should help.” He whispered in her ear. “Try pushing when the contraction comes…” Joseph had every intention of helping her with some more, distractions, but wasn’t going to start till she truly needed it and it would be more effective.

Mary hummed, the change in position already making a difference. She felt wider, more open, the baby felt even lower and heavier than ever before. She moved her arm a little, looping one around her husband's neck and inhaling the comforting smell of his cologne. 

“Mmmmmh… better…. ooooohhhhhh…. She feels incredibly low darling.” She moaned against his chest, hips twitching a little unconsciously around the weight of their baby. 

When the next contraction arrived it struck with a laser focus Mary barely had time to inhale before her body demanded she push. Her thighs squeezed around her husband's legs as she bore down, her ass dropping low between his knees trying to open her pelvis even more. The growl of effort was muffled against Joseph’s thick winter coat, but her body trembled with the effort. One almighty push… two almighty pushes. By the third, she felt it. 

“It’s— unngghhhhh— working— can— feel— her— moving— oh-fuck!… down.” 

Progress was minuscule but to Mary, every millimetre was a sign of progress and gave her hope. 

“Good job darlin’.” Joseph’s voice remained a whisper. Her lower back and midriff remained exposed, and the focus of his hands. Calloused hands rubbed against her bare, sweat slick skin. Wide circles, working in conjunction with one another as he applied more pressure to the base of her spine on each pass. Every hitch in her breathing was felt against his own chest. 

Contractions were coming faster and harder, without a proper timer it was difficult to tell, but Joseph had a gut feeling that this contraction currently making his wife dig her nails into him was only a minute or two after the last. The previous distraction had worked wonders, though was unfeasable in their current position. So, Joseph decided to try a different approach. His left hand no longer made circles on her spine, instead gliding along glistening flesh to where her knit sweater was hiked up. 

Mary instantly made a whining sound when his hand left her lower back. “Mmmhh… no…. why… taken… hand away…?” 

“I’ve got you love…”

The oven that was the space between her sweater and skin was a far cry from the cold in the barn. Joseph found what he was looking for, the maternity bra held her breast in check after they’d swelled with milk in recent months. Of course, he had no complaints about it, and knew all too well how sensitive they were from their more intimate moments during the last trimester. Following the band around, he found the clasp holding it in place, and with a flick of the wrist, her bra was undone. He shifted again, finding the front and tugged, already knowing that a reaction was imminent. Her breasts were loose, and free to use as he felt necessary to ease her discomfort. And it all started, with his palm cupping, and giving a gentle squeeze.

“Ohhh god!” Mary’s head went back and she gasped. Her skin, her body, every cell was already hyper sensitive while in the deep throes of labour. The friction of her thick padded maternity bra being dragged over her nipples was enough to make her shudder, but then he squeezed. 

The moan that left her lips was not of pain but bountiful pleasure, her husband knowing exactly what he was doing right now. His index finger and thumb made gentle but focused work on her left breast, milk escaping from the ducts onto his calloused fingertips. The stimulation had another desired effect with the quick appearance of a strong contraction. 

Mary hummed, low and deep, her hands gripping his shoulders as she lifted slightly on his lap before sinking down between his knees with another guttural push. 

“Nnnnnghhh—ohhhhh— she’s— she’s right—there—ohhhhhh Joseph— I can feel the h-head coming—ugggghhh!!” 

“That’s my girl.” He kept his voice calm, squeezing a bit harder. “Keep on pushing, she’s gonna be here before you know it.” His forehead pressed against hers, their eyes shut as he listened to her breathing, the deep vibration in her throat as the primal need to give in took over. “Breathe…” As he gave the command, his palm offered her chest another gentle squeeze. The warmth of her milk poured over the gaps between his fingers. At least their daughter wouldn’t be hungry when she came.

Mary gulped down air, trying to gather her strength between contractions, to follow her husband’s guidance. Joseph was familiar with the sight of his labouring wife, recognised every subtle move or reaction, knowing when a contraction was coming or when the urge to push was too great. When Mary sighed with relief he told her to breathe, when her body stiffened on his lap - when her back became rigid and tense - he guided her through each push. 

“Ugggghh… she feels so… big!” Mary groaned after a huge forceful push that didn’t grant the progress she wanted. The weight of their child was low, imminent, pressing against the exit of her body. The familial stretching sensation began to burn beneath her underwear but she had no idea if she was even close to crowning. “C-can you check— me—please— mmmmmghh…..” 

“Course.” Joseph’s grip on her breast disappeared, the need for counter pressure on her back far more important than the distraction from the pain. “Try to rise, just a little.”

Mary, with Joseph’s help, managed to rise up by just a few inches. That was all he needed. Just as before, his fingers found the elastic band of her leggings and slipped in. Her panties remained soaked, and a nagging feeling told him that there was something else they should have already done, but, he was drawing a blank. Oh well, must not be that important. Joseph dug beneath her panties, finding Mary’s opening. Her skin was already pulled taut, and yet, her lips only seemed to barely be opened. He couldn’t even feel the head, just soft flesh surrounded by tight skin. 

“You’re openin’ darlin, but I don’t feel the baby.” 

Mary’s head lowered against Joseph’s shoulder and she huffed with frustrated disappointment. “Oooooh— how— that’s not right— there’s so much fucking pressure!” 

She was sure the baby was close, it felt damn well close with the weight pressing down and stinging her sensitive lower lips. Mary’s pelvis felt like it was being cracked open, the birth canal absolutely full with their fourth child. But Joseph couldn’t feel the baby… either something was wrong or her age was having more of an impact than they’d imagined. 

With her husband’s hand still beneath her layers of clothes, gently circling and cupping her crotch, Mary gave another push. Forceful and intentional, focusing all her efforts on bringing their baby down. Bearing down she was rewarded only with more pain, a spike in the white hot burning at the apex of her thighs. She jolted abruptly, ceasing her pushing, and whimpered like a wounded animal. 

“No…. Ohhhh… Joseph… it’s not right… something’s there… I’m sure of it!!” Mary croaked, her body twitching instinctively as if she could simply escape the spike in pressure and pain that was blinding her senses. 

Joseph’s frown wasn’t of frustration but of confusion. The others were blatantly obvious when they began to emerge from between her quaking thighs. Without a protest, he checked her again, this time shutting his eyes as he let his hand build a picture. She was open, the stretched flesh of her lips surrounding the softness that he still hadn’t placed. It couldn’t be the baby though, their heads were more firm. This was more like…

Joseph’s eyes opened, and there was a panic in them that surpassed all that came before.

“Mary…” He said, toughening his tone to keep the rising fear out. “Mary I don’t think that’s the head coming.” Joseph had to search for the word, so long since he’d read any of the books, this was baby four! Surely nothing would have been different. How wrong they were. “She’s comin’ out backwards hon, she’s breech.”

“Wh—What?! No!!!! She can’t be—nnnnnggghhhhhh!” Mary’s disbelief transformed into a low grunting sound of effort as her body forced her push once again. 

As she pushed against the giant irrefutable boulder in her pelvis, feeling its heaviness against her sensitive opening, bulging her body with its size, the penny finally dropped. That was why this was so difficult, why she was struggling to make progress. It wasn’t her age; their poor little girl was the wrong way up - she was coming out bum-first. 

“Oooohhh Joseph…. She can’t…. She can’t come out like this…. Something’s gonna go wrong… she’s going to get h-hurt… We need doctors… we need help….” Mary sobbed after the involuntary push. Her mind running a thousand miles a minute. A breech birth was so much more dangerous, and with Mary’s older years technically making this a ‘geriatric pregnancy’, it was even more risky. This was bad. This was so terribly bad. “What… what do we do—? Ohhhh god she’s right there! Nnnnnnghhh!!!” 

“Wait wait!” Joseph’s pleas fell of deaf ears. She needed to stop pushing right? At first it seemed like the birth could be simple, if a bit unorthodox. The baby being breech changed everything. Maybe it was worth trying to get her out to the truck again, to risk the drive to the hospital. Could they make it? Fat fuckin chance. Joseph’s thoughts ended with their daughters minute progress into his palm, stretching his wife impossibly wider. Between the child and Mary’s leggings, his hand was squeezed into place.

“Baby you can’t keep pushing, we, shit, is there anything we can do? I-I don’t think turning her around is an option.”

“No it certainly is—nnnnnghhhh!— not an option Joseph! She’s not a car— oooooh— she can’t reverse, turn around and come back again!” Mary snapped through gritted teeth, pushing automatically midway through her sentence. Her body was working to deliver this child whether they were ready or not, prepared or not, head-first or not. This baby was coming and she was coming now. 

The position of the baby made everything feel….more. More intense, more overwhelming, more painful, more burning. And yet Mary was entirely stuck in this position - straddling her husband with her ankles hooked around his calves, her backside hanging between his spread knees. Though the way it opened her pelvis so wide might be the only reason she was making any sort of progress right now. 

“If…. If she’s breech… is she… butt-first? Is that what’s coming out? You can’t feel a foot or anything can you?” Mary tried to think, to clear her mind. What did they need to do, how could they make sure their daughter arrived as safe as possible while trapped in this fucking barn. 

“Just her butt, no feet or anything.” His hand shifted, moving around the edge of her opening to see if there was anything different. All he could find was what he believed to be the baby’s hip, a little bone hidden beneath some baby fat. “She’s moving down though, there’s progress but it’s damn slow.” Not that she needed to be told that, the snippy comment was evidence enough of how overwhelming the situation was. “I don’t know what to do Mary.” He met his wife’s eyes, and any chance he had of hiding the newfound fear was gone. “Do I need to try and get you to the truck again?”

Mary shook her head, blowing a slow exhale through her pursed lips. “We’ll… never make it…. Plus… the doors are j-jammed shut, remember?” 

Between contractions Mary hummed, holding tight to her husband's shoulders as she gently circled her hips. The indescribable pressure sitting at the apex of her thighs was overbearing, their baby so close and yet so far. It felt like an impossible task, to deliver something that felt so huge. It was frightening and daunting and she couldn’t help but doubt if they would even survive this. But she couldn’t let that fear take hold. They had to do this. They just had to. 

“H-Help me… stretch and… relax…. She’s gotta come out Joseph, and soon…. Ooooohh-ugh— contractions-coming—”

Of course, he should have remembered that the doors weren’t able to open. Calm, he couldn’t help her stay calm unless he was calm. Joseph’s best option was to keep his hand in her leggings to help her relax. He leaned back so they could see one another, and despite the fear in his eyes, all he spoke was encouragement and love.

“We’ll make it.” He told her, all the while his middle and index finger began to trace around her lips, gently, slowly. Mary was supporting herself enough with her arms around his neck, so he went back to her chest, never breaking eye contact. “Relax darlin’, and just breathe.” Joseph cupped her breast, lifting her knit sweater so they too were exposed to the cold. “Focus on me, and soon we’ll have baby girl in our arms.”

The breath that left her lungs was audible and shaky. Mary closed her eyes, rocking gently, trying to focus on her husband’s ministrations. Trying desperately to shut down the fear and worries that stuck in her mind like molasses. “Mmmmh…. I… I hope so…..” she whispered. 

As the contraction ramped up her hands locked over Joseph’s shoulders, nails digging into the thick layers of his clothes. “Oooohhh… n-need… to-push…..” she warned with a husky groan, inhaling deeply before bearing down. 

Her muscles clamped down, her swollen belly lifting and shrinking around her womb. All her efforts were focused on that singular point, on the immense mass trying to make it through her narrow body. Joseph’s hands were soft and gentle, slick with amniotic fluid, helping her to relax and open for their child. To increase the oxytocin in her body, his other hand gently thumbed one of her large nipples. Circling and rolling it between his thumb and index and squeezing ever so delicately. The response was instant, her grunting pushes mixed with a throaty pleasurable moan. 

“That’s it darlin’.” He said, his voice soft as his touch. “Push. You worry about that, and I’ll take care of the rest.” He could tell from how her stomach altered in shape when the contraction reached its peak. At that moment, he pinched down on her areola, feeling milk drip along his fingertips. As he did that, a coordinated effort began in her leggings. He opened his hand, practically matching the shape of her opening with his thumb and index. Joseph pressed against her, feeling the baby make progress past his palm. “Good girl, keep pushing.” 

She mewled, almost a whimpering sound of her efforts and arousal. His hands on her skin, holding her, guiding her, made her feel comforted and safe. Even after all these years, the arguments and celebrations and children, this was where she felt safest - in his arms. 

Mary’s teeth bared, her eyes scrunched, pushing down with everything that she had. Sweat was gathering on her temple, running down the sides of her cheeks even with the freezing storm raging around the barn. Her body was a furnace, each cell alive and sensitive and tingling. The progress made between her legs was noticeable, both to her and to Joseph. More of the baby slipped forward, stretching her wider than she ever thought was possible, their baby’s backside filling her husband’s palm as she bore down. 

“Nnnnnghhh… she’s… she’s coming…. Uggghhhh… oh god!” She panted, gasping for air as she released the push, contraction fading. The baby stayed, heavy and ever-present, bulging into her husband’s hand. 

“She is.” Joseph confirmed. Albeit, probably not moving as fast as Mary would have liked. All things told, just by what little he felt in the confines of her clothing, he’d say she made about a centimeter or two of progress. Which, while not a lot, is made leagues better by the fact that the baby remained. She didn’t slip back in like when Mary had fought their eldests head. “Slowly but surely.” 

A fraction of a second before he thought to take her hand, Joseph paused. He knew how intimate and empowering it could be for her to feel her own progress, to feel that little body trying to emerge. But, he refrained. If his wife believed more progress was being made, the last thing he wished to do was discourage her with the truth. This baby was low, and moving slow. Instead, he continued his massage, not trying to overstimulate, but release the hormones within her body to get her to relax into the next contraction. This baby would only get wider as she reached where the legs were tucked.

Mary trembled, held in limbo, as she waited for the next contraction. Every breath was unsteady, every beat of her heart was pounding. “I… I just want her…ouuuut Joseph….” Her words barely even a whisper, struggling with the fullness stretching her body wide open. When she was pushing it felt productive, like she was working towards a goal, but in between contractions all she felt was pain. 

Somehow he knew what to do, to keep her from the precipice of panicking. Soft words of encouragement combined with more stimulation of her nipples, no doubt in the hopes it would bring on the next contraction quicker. She rocked and whimpered, straddling his lap, panting through the gap between the waves. And then it was back, the primal clenching of her muscles, and she was bearing down once again. This time her efforts were joined with a roar of desperation as she tried so hard to bring their breech baby into the world. 

The baby was already moving before Mary’s primal roar filled the barn. 

“Good! Push darlin’, keep pushing!” 

Their daughter was fighting to get out, his hand filling with her rear. Joseph’s hand went back to pressing her lips, offering that sweet counterpressure that he knew would help. Another few centimeters, and Joseph’s thumb found something.

“I…” He shifted his thumb, finding five little bumps. “Honey, I can feel one of her feet.” That had to mean she was close, right? A smile split his face, even as Mary came down from the pain of the last contraction. “You’re making progress.” 

“It… it doesn’t feel like it…” She sobbed, trying to catch her breath back. The baby felt lodged, trapped, splitting her body in half. All the labouring and pushing and the baby was still wedged in her pelvis, feeling like she was being torn open. Mary could hardly bear it. “I-I don’t think I can do this… J-Joseph it’s too much… h-hurts….” 

Mary slumped her head forward, hanging between her arms that were locked and gripped over her husband’s shoulders. Tears mixed with sweat that ran down her cheeks. She couldn’t get their daughter out, she was stuck and Mary would be forever tormented with the agonising pressure between her legs. Unable to think clearly Mary cried with desperation and frustration. 

“Shhshhshh…” Joseph quieted his voice, not letting his hand leave their baby. “Mary, you can do this.” It wasn’t like she had another choice in the matter. “Listen to me,” he began. “I want you to just relax in the next contraction, it’s going to hurt, but honey you need your strength for bigger pushes. When I say, I want you to push, but until then try to recover.” He leaned in, pressing his forehead to hers. “I love you, and I’m here. Let’s have our girl.”

Their foreheads rested together, Mary clinging on to any semblance of hope. “O-okay…. Okay….” Her words hitched on a sob. 

The next contraction soon reared its ugly head, tightening and squeezing Mary’s womb in a vice. “Ooohhh….ohhhhhh Joseph….” She began to rock and groan, the pressure building like a raging storm. “Mmnnghhh…. Wanna pppppush….” 

She clawed at Joseph’s shoulders, trying to withstand her body’s demands to bear down, instead panting heavily to reserve her strength. But it wasn’t working, the force of the contraction too powerful to stop the little grunting pushes that were happening without permission. 

“No you don’t Mary.” He spoke and simultaneously stimulated her nipple. “You look at me, look.” Joseph waited till her tear filled eyes met his. “Good girl. Focus on me, isolate the feelings.” Her most sensitive parts were the victim of his fingers. “Feel that? You don’t need to push, you are having your body recharge while you rest.” His eyes flicked down, spotting the outline her stomach made of her womb, just as quickly they rose to meet hers again. “This is just us, that same intimacy we’ve had for the past twenty years…” Joseph smiled at her, lifting his chin to kiss her forehead. It tasted of salt, the abundance of sweat coating her and adding to the smell of bodily fluids. “Have I ever let you down?” The smile turned mischievous. “And don’t you dare bring up the bathroom remodel, that wasn’t my fault.”

“W— we couldn’t— get the tub— through the bathroom—door….” Mary laughed through heavy breathing, trembling head to toe. 

The contraction was strong, but her husband’s fingers were more persuasive. Beneath her leggings he gently circled her stretched skin around the partly emerged babe before his thumb settled perfectly on her clit. Meanwhile his other hand kneaded and pinched her breasts, sending shivers down her spine with a combination of arousal and the relief of expressing some more milk from their too-full shape. 

The actions from her still-devilishly-handsome husband were the only thing keeping her from falling apart under the agonising pressure and desperate need for their baby to be born. After what felt like a lifetime, the contraction fully let go and it was easier to focus only on the pleasurable sensations. 

“Hmph, well maybe you should have listened when I said it was too big.” He said, grinning. The relief on his wife’s face told him all he needed to know. Fingers continued their work, even as he spotted the trail of milk flowing down her bump. “You remember the night we conceived?” He asked her, keeping the stimulation going. His thumb pressed a little harder into her clit, he knew they didn’t have long before the next contraction came. “We traced it back to that date night? Kids at your parents, we worked on the barn before going to the movies… the massage?”

“Hmmm… yes…. It was the first night alone we’d had in… years.” Mary hummed. Her chest hitched a little at Joseph’s increase in pressure between her legs, desire coiling beneath the surface, her body instinctively reacting to his actions. “If I remember rightly…. Hmmmm—oooooohhhhh— that was the night I said we could try for a— a— fourth baby.” 

The next contraction was looming on the horizon, she could feel it simmering, but as Joseph kept circling her clit and gently squeezing her nipples she was getting overwhelmed for entirely different reasons now. Mary’s jaw dropped, gasping for air as everything tightened and trembled. 

“And there I was darlin…” Joseph whispered, their intimate moment backdropped by the ever present storm outside. “I thought it was just the wine talking, but then you showed me that test a few weeks later.” The memory was among his fondest, the happiness of seeing his wife so excited, and seeing the kids' reactions to realizing there was another sibling coming. “I think the only time a smile left your face was when they said they hoped it was twins.” He chuckled, letting his tracing increase in speed. “Remember what you said to them after that?”

“Ha….y-yes…. I—Oooohhhh—unnnnghhh—” the contraction slammed into Mary, the balance between pain and pleasure catapulted firmly in the wrong direction. “Oh fuck— mmmmgh— I’ve gotta pushhhh Joseph—” 

Her whole body froze and tensed with the forceful contraction, nearly undoing all the work they’d just done to keep her relaxed. The muscles clamped and squeezed, forcing everything downwards, and Mary groaned as her hips dropped down further between Joseph’s wide knees. 

“Easy baby, easy.” He kept working, and despite knowing she wasn’t pushing, he felt their daughter make a little progress. “Breathe, holding your breaths is a bad idea, just breathe.” The next contraction, that’s when she should give it all. Joseph could tell that she was exhausted, fuck she’d said as much to him earlier, but if she could hold out for just this one contraction he was sure that on the next, a lot more progress would come. “You’re doing beautifully, almost through it, keep going…” 

“Oooohhhh… I can’t…. Ahhhh fuck…. I wanna ppppush… I need to pushhh….” Mary groaned. Gripping and clawing her nails in her husband's coat, she frantically panted, ragged and heavy. She could feel Joseph’s fingers beneath her clothes, pressing his thumb against her clit and holding her lips open around the half-born baby. But it wasn’t enough. Not even his caressing of her breasts could take the edge off this contraction. It was relentless and angry, forceful as a tornado, and Mary tilted her head to the ceiling taking a deep breath and preparing to give a guttural push. 

But then Joseph’s lips were on hers, his stubble deliciously course against her skin as he kissed her so deeply and passionately it took her breath away. A last ditch attempt to distract the labouring woman from the overwhelming pain and desperate need to push. And it worked. His tongue met and danced with hers in a familiar passionate pattern. It was nostalgic and comforting but also magical and still incredibly hot. Distracted from her intended push, Mary hummed with pained enjoyment into her husband's mouth. The baby made progress, slow but steady, her body stretched to its limits but thankfully not tearing. Eventually more and more of their child began slipping into his palm. 

Their kiss remained his focus until the baby stopped advancing. Without a visual he couldn’t tell for certain, but he was guessing that at least a third of the baby’s body was already out. The rest would need Mary to help.

“Good girl.” Joseph said as they parted. The contraction was done, and he couldn’t help enjoying the flushed cheeks Mary had at the moment. She was always so cute when she got flustered. “Now, the next contraction, I want you to push for me. Everything, all that you got. And don’t stop till you can’t take no more.” 

The next few moments seemed to last a lifetime, waiting for the next contraction, and whatever would happen after that. As desperate as she was to end this torment, the worries of delivering a breech baby simmered in the recess of her brain. They stayed in their positions, not daring to move, waiting. Just waiting. 

The first sign of the next contraction happened in the form of a whimper and Mary’s legs twitching slightly, her thighs still wide and hooked over Joseph’s. “Mmmm… s’coming…” Her eyes scrunched, grimacing as the first echoes of pain returned. 

He didn’t need to be told, all the telltale signs screamed to him now. He nodded to his wife, leaning in close so that all she could hear was his voice. Not the storm, not the animals, not even the fabric of her leggings stretching at the seams, only him.

“Let it build.” He told her, his fingers still doing their individual jobs. “You’ve done this three times already, delivering perfect babies. Now it's time to even out with baby four.” He could feel their daughter slipping out ever so slightly, and as she did, he kept speaking. “Ok, ok… now push.”

Silently acknowledging his words, Mary nodded and took a deep breath before bearing down. Hard. Her teeth were bared, her nails sank into her husband’s shoulders, and she was oddly silent. All that she was, everything she had to give, gathered into this moment with pure maternal fiery strength. No sound came from the labouring woman except for gasping gulps of air between pushes, every last ounce of energy was focused on this impossible task. As she concentrated on pushing the pain began to fade into background noise - the only thing that mattered was the progress being made, on the feeling of their daughter moving through her exhausted body. Millimetre by millimetre… inch by inch… the baby squeezed further and further out. Later, she would recall just how horrific this was, how utterly wide and stretched to breaking point she felt. But now, in this moment, she just wanted to meet her daughter and for their baby to be safe and healthy. 

Over and over, Mary strained and pushed and almost growled with her efforts. Using every last bit of the contraction while she could. And then suddenly, everything changed. A loud, strangled gasp from Mary, echoing round the barn. 

It happened so fast. One moment Joseph was propping up their daughters bum within Mary’s leggings, feeling only newborn skin in some alien shape that his imagination couldn’t form a picture of. Then suddenly, a gush of fluid, and the baby unfurled from her folded pose. Legs became free, pressing against her pants for but a moment before retracting into that newborn scrunch that all their children had for their first months of life. He felt hands, two perfect little hands with ten tiny fingers. She was too much for him to hold with only a single palm, so instead he was left with letting their baby cradle in Mary’s leggings. 

“The body’s out!” He exclaimed, kissing Mary on the lips in this moment of joy. Remembering the complications of their second born, he tucked his fingers in between the baby’s neck and the edge of her opening. Nothing, no cord wrapped around it. Mary and the baby were clear, well, as clear as they can with one dangling out of the other.

She couldn’t stop the tears of relief, slumping forwards with exhaustion and sobbing against Joseph’s chest. All the pain, the white hot burning, the stretching…. gone in an instant. Mary felt numb, like she was in a dream. But then something brushed against her inner thighs, not her husband’s hand but something new…soft…perfect. 

Slowly she lifted her tear-stained face. “She’s…. She’s out…? Is she okay?” Her quiet voice croaked. 

“Not out. She’s ok though from what I can tell.” Joseph said. His hand had left her breast, the excess milk wiped onto his pants before he cupped her cheek. “But the body is out, all the way to her neck. All that’s left is her head, and we will have our baby girl here.” He let his thumb brush against her tears. “You are doing great, just relax for a little before the next one comes…” He paused, still feeling the baby lying in her leggings. “Do you want to feel her?”

She nodded, speaking was something she wasn’t fully sure on right now. Mary tried to move but found her body was locked in position, her fingers like a vice on Joseph’s shoulders. And she was trembling. In shock, Mary was scared to let go of her husband, worried she’d fall. She was still straddling his lap while he sat on a hay bale, her backside hanging between his knees. His hands were busy between her thighs, pulling the elastic of her waistband and cradling their partially born daughter inside the stretched fabric. 

Feeling her hesitation, he freed one hand to help Mary to feel their baby. He guided her quivering hand, past her waistband and to the gusset of her leggings where there was—

“Our baby girl…. Oh my gosh…” more tears rolled down her cheeks as she made contact with their fourth child for the first time. Her skin was slippery with fluids but so soft. She had delivered their three precious children and each time felt their heads once born, but this was another experience entirely. Their daughter's torso was scrunched in the damp fabric of her leggings, but her little hands and feet were moving, as if they were pressing out against new surroundings. “Whoa… this is… this is nuts.” She couldn’t help the exhausted and shocked laugh that came out her mouth. Feeling their daughter’s body, already moving and strong, reassured Mary enough for exhaustion and delirium to prompt the nervous giggle. 

“Master of understatement honey.” Joseph said, joining in her laugh. His hand joined hers beneath her still swollen stomach, fingers interlacing. “Baby girl is so close, just a little more and it’ll all be over.” The moment felt like an eternity of magic. A thought occurred, one that he couldn’t stop thinking of. “Your leggings might be a lil ruined after this Mary.” He said. “Don’t think we are gonna be able to get you out of them just yet…”.” 

“Hmmm?” She was distracted, her fingers touching and tracing every inch of their daughter. “Oh… I hadn’t even… why the fuck am I still wearing these?” In the whirlwind of events - the storm, the snow blocking the doors, the unexpected advancement of labour - the thought hadn’t occurred to either of them to remove Mary’s lower-half clothing. She laughed, but the sound soon turned into a hiss of pain. 

“Ooooh…. contraction—!” Mary gasped, whipping her hand out of her leggings to brace herself against Joseph’s shoulders once again. As the tightness increased and the pressure against her labia returned, she soberingly remembered - she still had to deliver the head. Surely it would be easier after what she’d just done. “Unnnngh…. Oooooohh… it’s coming… ohhh shit….” She whimpered, breathing heavily, almost panting. 

Joseph's smile remained. Seeing his wife in good humor despite the circumstances was far more than he could ever have dreamed in the current situation. Their hands no longer held together, Joseph took a firm grip on Mary's thigh as she pushed yet again. Cradling the baby wasn’t something he could do, nor, in reality, was it necessary. Mary’s leggings acted as a swaddle as the baby waggled.

“Breathe Mary. The head should be a bit easier at this angle.” Joseph wasn’t exactly sure of it, but he had to believe it was true. Starting at the chin, before her head would exit fully. “You’re in the home stretch baby…”

Mary let go of a strangled moan of effort, her face reddening as she bore down. The elation of delivering their daughter's body had now vanished, leaving only pressure and desperation, of needing to give birth. 

“Nnnnnghh!!!!! Ohhhhh—god—come—on—” she growled, eyes scrunched and teeth gritted. 

Every inch of her body was sore and trembling and exhausted, the burning stretch happening beneath her leggings was no easier to withstand than before. And yet she continued. With strength she didn’t know she had left, Mary gave her all into this moment and with it she could feel the gradual emergence of the baby’s facial features. 

In a split second, with a guttural roar, the baby burst free from her body into the soft stretched gusset of her leggings and underwear. Mary jolted, as if electrocuted. With pure adrenaline and instinct she unhooked her legs from where they’d locked around Joseph’s, planting her feet back on the floor and rose to stand. Baby…. Get the baby…. It was the only thought running through her mind. 

At first, it was silent, and Joseph’s heart seized. He helped Mary to rise and immediately reached into her leggings, finding their daughter's little body. As if she’d been waiting for her father, sudden wails filled the barn. All worries melted, and a healthy pink skinned baby emerged. 

“Look at that…” Joseph said, feeling his eyes stinging with tears. “Hey there princess.” The baby was lifted to Mary, who quickly took her and placed her against her exposed bare skin. He got the two of them comfortable, sitting Mary down on the bale while he went to fetch blankets. His focus, until the storm passed, was warmth for the new life his loving bride had brought into the world.

Eight hours later, the couple emerged from the barn. Joseph supported Mary, her and the baby wrapped up in wool blankets that were part of the nativity. 

“Cmon… let’s get the kids their Christmas gift…”

[a-monster-brood]

You love being a nun. You honor your vows of chastity so much you don’t even touch yourself. You hide your body under long robes and do penance every time your mind strays. 

You have dreams of shadowy caresses that leave you sticky and sweating, and you have to spend long hours in chapel to atone. You take to wearing a heavy chain around your waist and between your legs. 

Your belly starts swelling, and you will yourself not to notice. You pretend it isn’t happening for months. Your hips and back ache with the weight you refuse to acknowledge. Your breasts are full and tender. Your nipples rub against the rough fabric of your robes and it lights you on fire. 

You lay awake at night and feel the thing inside you moving. It kicks so hard your robes ripple. You cradle your belly and pray to God for answers. You pray for it to go away.

Eventually the shapeless black of your robes can’t save you anymore. The mother superior chastises you for being a whore. She places an iron collar around your throat to remind you of your sins. She tells you to do penance where everyone can see your punishment.

You weep and swear your virginity. You beg for help. She is unmoved. She tells you to swear on the Virgin Mother and maybe your innocence will be proved, but more likely you will be punished for claiming her holiness.

You kneel at a pew to do as you are told. Your knees are bare on the cold floor. Your hips burn as they spread under the weight of your bastard. Your belly hangs with nothing to support it. Pain rips through you as your womb tightens. She tells you that is punishment for your sins.

You pray through a haze of days. Your belly grows, and sags, and writhes. You spread your knees and rock your hips and sob. Your breasts are so tight they throb. Your robe strains against your girth. You keep your hands on the pew.

Water trickles down your legs. Your womb is nothing but agony, squeezing down on the monster inside you. It rips you open. Your bones creak. Instinct tells you to reach between your legs and ease its way. The mother superior seizes your wrists and binds them to the pew.

You scream and scream. You are a warning to the other harlots in the convent. Your whelp spreads you open. You push and strain, but there’s no one to help you or soothe you. You scream for God’s help and hear no answer. 

There is a night, and a day, and its head slips out in a gush of fluids that puddle around your knees. You sag with exhaustion, unable to keep going, pain leaving you incoherent.

Gravity does its job eventually. Inch by agonizing inch, your massive offspring squeezes out of you, changing your body forever. When you push a demon into the church, everyone will know you for the devil's bride.

[pregobirthlvr]

Fantasy birth

(Orc birth, painful birth)

I was kept as a souvenir for the orc king after a raid on my village. Two guards pulled me from my home and presented me in front of his highness. He took a quick liking to me. Using my body as much as he wished. It wasn’t long before my constantly cum filled hole got me pregnant.

An orc/human pregnancy was unheard of at this time. No one knew if I’d survive since the orc babies were much bigger then a humans. But I had no choice since the king demanded I carry them.

I grew. After a month I looked already half way to pushing. After 3 months I looked full term. At 6 I was so big you’d think I was overdue with twins. When I finally hit 9 months I had become mostly belly. It stuck out further than my arms could reach and walking was almost impossible with our help.

Luckily the orc king demanded I stay bed ridden. Partly because he couldn’t stop fucking my pregnant body. But also to reserve strength for what’s to come next.

When my labor finally started it was more painful than I could imagine. The contractions felt like splitting me in half would be less painful. Then the weight of my baby was heavy in my hips. It was almost twice the size of the average humans. And at this point I wasn’t sure it would come out without getting stuck.

Still I had no choice but to push and push. The head of the baby stretching me beyond what I thought was possible. The fear of tearing ran through my body as the burning become more and more intense. The ache on my pelvis didn’t help either. It felt like my bones were straining with each push to stay intact.

I let out a scream and with it the first babies head came barreling out of me. I felt myself tear it exited. The skin around my hole finally giving out and splitting open to make room. I gasped for air, trying to ignore the pain, as I waited for the next contraction to get the rest of it out.

It wasn’t long before I was screaming again. I pushed once, twice, then the baby slide out from me. I started crying from excitement snd relief.

It wasn’t long loved. My eyes grew wide and I let out a cry as another contraction made my half deflated belly contort. I realized there was another big baby inside me. I start crying hard this time from fear and exhaustion.

I wailed and panted through this babies labor. Each push significantly more painful than the first babies. As the head made its way through my pelvis it suddenly stopped. I tried to push again but still no give.

On shaky legs and arms, and much help, I managed to flip over on my hands and knees to let gravity help. And it did. The head now moved painfully slow further down. My hips aches with each push, each time I became increasingly more worried my hips would crack. The pain only waning when the burning of my already torn hole took over.

I push again and again the head sliding out little by little. The only thing I fixed on was getting this baby out of me. I cried, screamed and begged. Until finally the head was at a full crown. With tears streaming down my cheeks I pushed hard and the babies head popped free.

I could barely keep myself upright long enough to get the rest of the baby out. Collapsing on my side, exhausted, when it finally happened. I started fading out when the king entered the birthing room. He smiled at the babies then at me.

And I then realized this wasn’t going to be the only time.

[donotpush1]

A pipe dream

TAGS: breed kink, rapid pregnancy, unexpected birth, NSFW.

Scientifically speaking, it made sense that Tina was head over heels for Jason. 

You know how the science behind attraction is, what the scientists say, that the base of attraction and desire comes from a primal need. 

A primal need to be kept safe. To provide or to be provided, to remain soft and warm in the coldest winter and to have food to feast on during summer.

A primal need to find the best specimen to breed or to be bred.

And Jason was a great specimen; he was strong and handsome, and so smart.

It made sense Tina was dreaming that Jason was pounding her from behind, his hands firmly at her hips to keep her still as his huge cock slammed inside her throbbing cunt. 

Bare. 

“Yes, Jason, yes!" 

In her dream, her moans were loud and clear. In the real world her face was muffled against the pillow, muffling all her sounds and tuning the sleepy moans to unintelligible whimpers.

Her legs were rubbing together, staining her panties with a sticky substance.

"You want me to fill you up?” Jason’s voice, oneirically, was more or less deep, and there were a few more incongruences with the real Jason, but Tina couldn’t give a shit. 

“You want me to knock you up, make you so, so big and heavy with my babies?” With a growl, Jason’s hands kept her closer to him as he thrust. 

Tina’s answer was a muffled whine as she raised her hips, trying to match Jason’s thrusts and get him deep inside her. 

“Words, please” he leaned closer, growling against her ear as one of his hands moved to grab her breasts roughly. 

The mind truly was magic like that.

Everything felt so real. From the heat of Jason’s breath against the back of her head to the furious grip his hands had over her. The smell of his cologne mixed with sweat and the smell of sex that filled the room.

She could feel herself coming to her climax, pleasure building inside her with every thrust from the product of her subconscious mind.

“Yes. Please.” Tina moaned, pushing her body back to meet Jason’s thrusts. “Please, fill me. Make me… make me so big…”

Her words got lost in the air as Jason speed up, hitting that spot, and the only thing Tina could think about was for him to fill her with his seed and make her so swollen and heavy, so full with his babies. 

“Oh, fuck…!” Tina moaned. “Fuck, fuck, fuck…!”

When her orgasm hit her, her pussy throbbing and contracting around Jason’s cock, Tina woke up to find herself sweaty and out of breath in her bedroom.

Something sticky was between her legs. But damn, she couldn’t care if the sheets beneath her were wet too because that was a good orgasm.

Then, her hand moved down to slide between her legs, feeling how wet she was.

That dream Jason was truly a stud.

Biting her lips and giggling like a schoolgirl, Tina’s fun was interrupted when a sharp pain shoot through her abdomen, painful enough to make her groan out loud.

Instinctively, her hand moved to lift her shirt, rubbing her hand over her firm, swollen belly in search of some soothingness.

What the fuck was that? She had abs when she went to sleep!

In a panic, Tina let out a scream as she tried to sit upright, the new weight on her messing with her center of gravity and not helping her, looking down at herself in complete horror.

In the few hours she had been asleep, her body transformed grotesquely. Her breasts were obscenely huge and where a flat stomach was supposed to be, there was a swollen, gravid belly.

She had to be still dreaming.

But if she was dreaming, then the pain that rocked her middle again felt very real. 

“Oh, my God!” She gasped, her hands reaching to get over her now huge belly and reach between her legs.

Well, at least everything was in its place there.

As she tried to stand upright again, a gush of liquid escaped from between her legs, and Tina didn’t have a moment to process it when she was hit with another sharp pain that shocked through her tight stomach. 

“Ugh!” Her eyes closed shut, her legs opening wide instinctively to make room for her belly.

Pregnant. She looked pregnant. As if the whole nine months (and maybe a few weeks more) had passed in the span of the five hours of sleep that she got that night.

No fucking way, there had been no way that it happened that fast, right?! 

And yet, when Tina reached over with desperate hands to grip her stomach, it felt real. So real.

Her fingertip brushed over the tight, sensitive skin, feeling the stretch marks that now covered the surface of her abdomen, feeling the itchy and almost burning feeling of the skin growing way too fast. 

Something else she only noticed when she tried to look down at herself to face her gravid middle: along with her stomach, her breasts were not only huge but tender and they felt so full.

And they were leaking… something?

One of her hands reached to brush over her nipples, and an involuntary moan escaped through her lips when an unexpected wave of pleasure hit her. 

Huge, tender and so sensitive. 

The momentary joy was quickly forgotten when another contraction hit her, forcing her to grit her teeth and grip the tense orb of flesh under her hand.

Another burst of liquid came out of her, and panic settled once again when she felt it. 

Something was making its way out of her. 

The weight was getting lower and lower on her hips, her pelvis, almost threatening to come out any second as it rested now almost behind her pussy lips. 

“My god!” She moaned, her body shaking as she tried to stop the pressure building within her.

But it was useless, no matter if she tried to tense her body or relax it, the weight was still there and it was coming down. Now.

Tina cried, clutching desperately at her bedsheets. Her frame shakes when she desperately tried to pull back, trying to somehow escape the pressure that was building between her legs.

She had to get up, she had to get up and get help…

“Fuck!”  The word slipped past her lips when suddenly she felt the need to push. 

Her body was telling her to cooperate, to go with it and stop fighting because whatever was inside her, wanted to get out.

Her hands reached over her belly to touch between her legs, feeling desperately at her vagina just to find her swollen lips parted. 

Her fingers touched something wet and hairy and that was definitely a head. A head that was bulging behind her lips, ready to crown. 

At that moment, as she tried to press her hands against her entrance, Tina knew she wasn’t gonna make it not even outside her bedroom.

Yes, she wanted kids, maybe even at some point before she could end college. But not now. Not like this. 

Short, rapid breaths were the only thing left for her as her hands gripped the comforter as hard as she could. Tina forced herself to take a deep one, her eyes closing tight in concentration, before slowly exhaling as she opened them.

She had to, at least, get up. 

Because she could feel gravity working in all ways against her like this. And she read somewhere once, probably some internet article, that laying down was the least recommended position to give birth in.

So she had totally given up and accepted the fact that she was, indeed, giving birth now? 

Well, Tina thought, something was definitely happening and the most logical thing to do now was to push.

Her focus was once again interrupted when another contraction hit her. 

“Ow! Ow, ow!” She cried, squeezing her eyes shut, her nails digging against her contracting stomach. 

The baby’s head was coming out of her, she needed to push again, right now.

A whimper escaped her mouth as she put her hands behind her, trying to lift herself from the mattress, but she lost balance. 

She tried again, grunting as she pulled herself away from the mattress, gripping at the bedframe for support, and pulled herself up. 

Sitting with a head crowning between her legs was more uncomfortable than she thought. 

She leaned forward, her belly pressing against the mattress and lifting her hips slightly in the air.

Letting out a cry when another contraction hit her, her hands gripped at the sheets beneath her.

“Damn!” Tina cursed as the pressure between her legs intensified. 

With a shaky breath, she pushed. 

A moan escaped her lips as she felt the head move with her effort, another gush of water dripping out of her. 

It didn’t last long before the urge to push washed over her again, her mind going blank as she let herself be guided by the pressure between her legs and the need to push.

Her face scrunched up as she pushed, and once again, she was taken by surprise when the head moved further. It lasted little because she could feel it slide back again. 

“Fuck…!” she panted through gritted teeth.

With a deep breath, she pushed again. 

This time, she was taken by surprise, not by the fact that the head moved, but because of the burning sensation that came with it.  

Her hand reached behind her to cup her pussy, feeling the head stretching her poor lips open again. 

The burning was so bad she had to bite her sheets from screaming. Was this the famous… what was it, fire ring?

Ring of fire, that was it.

Suddenly, another wave of pain hit her, her eyes screwed shut as she bit onto her sheets and arched backwards, letting out a muffled cry as she pushed.

Her legs were shaking, and she had to force herself to keep them open, her hand still over the crowning head. Her body was pushing, even though she did not want to.

As if she knew what to do, Tina knew that this was the moment to really put to work. As if instinctively her body knew it was a matter of second until the head would be completely out.

So, Tina pushed again. She didn’t know if she was pushing harder this time or if the fire on her pussy and the tiredness was starting to take a toll now. 

She could feel the head pressing against her palm as it came out, and it was a conscious effort to not close her legs trying to escape the pain. 

Tina pushed again, screaming as the head finally passed her lips with a gush of water, popping out. 

A sigh of relief escaped her lips, and Tina pulled herself up to a squat, a hand firmly over the head to keep it in place. 

With a grunt, she pushed again. 

Now was time for the shoulders, right?

Her legs were shaking, she was shaking, but she didn’t care about it. Right now, all she wanted was to push. 

She pushed again, and she could feel the shoulders coming free, and with another grunt and gritted teeth, Tina pushed again. 

The shoulders emerged followed by the rest of the body. Tina looked down between her legs, staring in awe at the small crying, bloody baby in her hands.

The awe faded quickly because again, her stomach contracted. One of her hands traveled over it again, feeling… how hard it still was?

She was done, right? Shouldn’t it be softer?

A cramp struck her stomach suddenly, and then she felt it: the unmistakable weight of another head making its way down her birth canal. 

[hypbellylver]

So heavy

[birthedstars]

The Raffle

You look wide eyed at the notification on your med watch. You've been picked. You are pregnant. It was insanely lucky that you'd nearly managed to go a few years after graduation without getting chosen. One of your old high school friends got raffled the day after and raffled again the following month. Now it is your turn. 

-1st Phase-

History books said that, at one relatively small time, the raffle was met with fury. Each month was a new protest filled with the rapidly impregnated. Now everyone begrudgingly accepted it as a part of life in the chrome future everyone's great great grandparents fantasized about. You press a finger below your navel. It was already firm to the touch and your nipples itched against the fabric of your sleep shirt. 

You were automatically cleared from work for the day so there was no need to rush out and do anything. Your objective today was to relax and do your singular task. 

You decide to get a shower–a simple anti-bacteria spray down and think about the most important part of this day. The birth. A younger person, without someone to advise them correctly, would think that going to one of the city hospitals would be the safest and best option. But you knew better. There were stories of ambulance c-sections with minimal anesthesia and hospitals practically restraining birthers in unrelenting binds and stirrups. Even in facilities they gave very little time to actually push before they enforced an extraction protocol. Medical staff were trained to be fully optimized toward a healthy delivery for the child. The only good choice was deciding to go it alone. 

Upon finishing your shower, you stopped in front of your mirror. A pouch of a belly,  big enough to cup beneath your palm has grown on you. You can’t imagine it taking weeks of time just to get a little bump like this. Some books say pregnancy used to take an entire 40 weeks. Thank goodness for optimization. 

If you were going to do this in your apartment, you'd need supplies. You put on some sweatpants, a loose T-shirt and head out of your apartment. 

The Mag-lev train, one of the best benefits of this present, is packed full with people. The vibe is different than normal. A young couple looking naively excited. A woman with a baby barely a year old idly massaged the base of her belly with an exhausted look in her eyes. This was raffle day. 

You procure over the counter grade stim packs only good for minor cuts, antibacterial salves, bandages, a basket big enough to be a bassinet, meal kits to ease your cravings. Hopefully that would be enough, because that is all you can afford. You spend a bit too much time trying to navigate the sparsely stocked and overcrowded baby area and only make it out with a few items of need. 

The attendant looks to your midsection. “Won the raffle, huh? Good luck, I heard they've been making some rough ones.” 

They send you on your way, but that comment and obvious stare make you look down to your bump.  

You see that your shirt has noticeably pushed forward in the hour of shopping. The bump looks bigger than any of the average diagrams you looked at in the past. The band of your sweat pants were already starting to dip below your waist. Time was ticking towards the inevitable. 

-2nd phase-

By the time you return to your apartment your belly has become obvious. The shirt is tight against your skin, your sweats require constant adjustment. You look undeniably pregnant. 

You rush to get everything you purchased set and ready. Medical supplies in the bathroom, bassinet close by, clean cloth laid and ready. Each passing moment you feel your shirt get a little tighter around your growing breasts and begin to ride a little higher over the large belly you are growing. 

If you lingered for too long you could feel it, you could see it. The stretching of your skin, the movements of your baby becoming subtly stronger. You can see a line slowly darkening across your middle and through your ever swallowing belly button. 

One moment amidst your preparation you pass a glance at the mirror. The waistband of your sweats has fully dipped below your waistline, cradling the underbelly of your bump. Movement slides beneath your barely visible belly button as you stare wide-eyed at your mirrored image. You look full term and you still have an entire phase left to go. 

-3rd Phase-

Walking is impossible. The sheer mass of your belly weighing on your hips has thrown your center of gravity off so much you can barely take a step without needing to brace against a wall. All you can do is lay down and watch your massive belly somehow exceed its limit and read up on the dozens of things that could go wrong. You count yourself lucky that you got everything you needed ready before you got this massive. 

A throbbing pain goes through your chest as you watch an archived birth video. Your breasts have become engorged to the point a shirt couldn't contain them and now were just a touch away from leaking. You twist slowly off your bed and arduously waddle to your bathroom using the little furniture you have as handholds to keep balance, the weight of the massive baby sitting in your hips and lean over the sink. With barely a touch your tits start expressing. 

Relief happens before you're awed by your own body. Your belly is pointed out into a cone shape with your darkened belly button as its point. The skin of your belly is a map of veins and from your underbelly to your hips you have deep stretchmarks. Before your eyes, you see the weight of your belly shifted down, your ease of breathing returns but in that same instant a large, solid object jams its way into the bowl of your hips.

You moan softly, then it turns into a pained groan. The muscles in your abdomen and back tense. Your knees hinge and one hand springs to the taut surface of your bump.

The first of many contractions takes your body. Not long now. 

-The Final Moments-

Your heavy belly heaves as you breathe through a contraction. Your voice is a bellow of pain and fear. The contraction you felt earlier was merely a braxton hicks and your pregnancy was not yet done with you. Another half hour of growing made your belly elongate and droop further beneath your hip line. Your bump looks like it didn't even exist as a part of your body anymore. 

The labor pains were as rapid as the pregnancy. The contractions come with such frequency that you can't catch your bearings long enough to check yourself and forcing your fingers into your contracting canal makes you see stars. 

Head buried into the crook of your arm, you moan, curse and rock on your knees on the bathroom floor. The pressure mounts deep behind your cervix and you feel a mass pass through its rapidly dilating flesh. A pop of fluid hits your thighs and underbelly. Relief from that pressure is fleeting; the giant baby surges against your cervix without pause. 

The next contraction, you bear down. Desperation to get it out already controls your actions. Your belly turns into a different abnormal shape with every push and contraction. 

The process was too slow and yet too fast. The contractions start to outpace the time you need to recover from pushing out a baby that barely moved past your cervix. Each one felt like a hand was reaching through you and pulling the baby forcefully from your womb. You sputter and gasp as a contraction forces the massive stone of a head against your cervix. It opens wider and wider, but it's only barely able to compensate for the speed of the labor and size of the baby. 

The time between spasms shortens again and again until you feel your canal full and the distinct pressure of your labia beginning to bulge. Between heaving breaths, you reach a hand to your crotch.  

The teardrop transformed into a massive “O” shape against your palm within seconds. 

Your body doesn't care if it breaks, it only wants the baby out. You keep your palm against the wide crown, head thrown back, hips straining and rotating in an attempt to escape the burn and pressure, the sides of your belly compress into a hot, hardened mass of skin.

A primal moan rumbles from deep within. The skin of your labia opens wide and forward, clinging to the head. You pray you don't tear, you beg your body to be more resilient. You begin to understand why people would beg for the scalpel and a quick end.You rock back into the pressure with a screech as the constant contraction rises to its peak and forces the head out of the grip of your flesh. The shoulders and torso slide out of your now shaking body and into your singular wait palm.

Loud gasps and cries echo from your and your baby. You crawl to the wall of your bathroom, baby in hand, and sit up steady. Your crotch is burning sore and throbbing from the abuse it was put through. The baby wept in your hands as it lay against your chest and swollen belly. 

Now all you need to do is wait for the placenta. That is what you think. The next contraction isn't subtle or a firm pressure– it doubles you over. 

You cry out, clutching your still rounded bump. A trill of movement shifts against the taut skin below your belly button. A second baby pressed on your cervix. Your body doesn't give you the chance to panic before another contraction hits you and you're brought back to the same cycle. Twins weren't supposed to happen with this system. The government assured it wouldn't happen. The facts don't matter now, this is happening. The invisible grasp that pulled on your first shoved into you to start its efforts again. But this time you feel none of the rapid progress.

You push. Nothing moves. You push again. Nothing. The veins and muscles in your neck strain as you scream. Only the feeling of the bowl of your pelvis opening as wide as it could and letting nothing through follows. Your breath hitches, panic rising in your chest. It should be well into your canal by now, but you can still feel the large child in you. You move a hand to the base of your belly and press. Your eyes go wide and the bathroom echoes with your voice whimpering “no”.

“I heard they've been making some rough ones.” the voice of the clerk rings in your ear.

The baby was sideways across your pelvis. Breech. No matter how hard you pushed or how long you labored, the twin wouldn't move. 

You remember one thing from the research you did, one thing doctors used to do a long time ago. You lay your first born down in the heap of towels. With a trembling hand you grasp your belly and baby and force it to turn. Your mouth goes wide, eyes distant and bulging, a contraction flaring against the forceful movement. The muscles in your arms fight against the ones making you give birth. The need to push hasn't waned–it got worse. The small shifts in the baby's position you feel aren't enough to reduce the agony or your exhaustion.

The glint of your medwatch catches your eye. A notification was recommending that you alert the EMS. One hand grips the mass of the twin as you stare at the alert. Sweat and tears burn your eyes as you consider it, as you ponder what brutality the city EMS would do to you. You ignore the notification and get back to your efforts. You resist your most primal urge, muscles strain to fight against the force of your hands; but the baby shifts regardless.

Eventually, you feel a hardness drop against your cervix. 

And a bolt of pain goes through your spine. Your body jerks into an arch and your hand shoots to the base of your back. You writhe and spasm at the sudden press against your nerves. The baby rushes so quickly you don't have the chance to stop it like you did before. In the brief moment your fear of tearing enters your mind, you feel the twin open you in more ways than one. 

An inhuman scream rips its way out of your throat as you feel the baby's head suddenly feel too easy to pass. Bolts of pain shoot through your crotch just as fast as the baby slides out onto the floor. Your breathy moans are joined quickly by the surprise between your legs. 

Your belly looked deflated. It had to be over now.

With what strength you have left, you spray the medkit mending onto your wounded crotch. You can barely muster the energy to pick up the twin you just birthed. The desire to just lay there, breathe a few breaths not strangled by the pain of labor or the weight of two babies against your lungs and hope fervently you wouldn't win the raffle next month. 

[imagineyourepregnant]

The Weekend Birthing Trip at Crownington

426-8. Request: Imagine a city where birth is something that you do very casually. Woman are going on about their day with heads crowning or dangling out and visible under the skirt. Some woman stop randomly on the sidewalk and finish giving birth in public.

By: fappinreborn / fappintobirth

You are a single and heavily pregnant woman with a pregnancy and birth fetish who decided to take your maternity leave and went on a trip to Crownington to give birth there.

The small but bustling city have some of your typical tourist attractions spots, but the real treat, and the reason that the city has been on the growing rapidly, was the city’s laws, culture, and relationship with pregnancy and birth. Within the city, you are allowed and even encouraged to give birth anywhere you want. it’s even encouraged to do so via cash subsidies by the government if you give birth in Crownington, which also applies for any tourist visiting. While a minority of women still decided to give birth privately or in the hospital (usually due to medical issues), most women decided to do it out in the open. The prospect was too good to pass up, you visit there when you are 38 weeks pregnant and stayed there until you give birth

Keep reading

[shockspectrum]

Stuck on a time loop on the day they give birth, after a few repeats they give birth practically everywhere possible and figure out that all they have to do is not have the kid that day. Easy! Right?

They give birth sobbing 15 times after realizing how hard it is to not push. Eventually they give up and spend all day in the tights boxers they can with a plug in their pussy

TIME LOOP BIRTH IS SO GENIUS

[pushypuppyboy]

i wanna be naive to my pregnancy until i’m pushing out your baby. i want you to assure me that my growing belly is just because of all the sweets i’ve been eating, that the shifting i feel inside me is just indigestion, and i want to completely blindly trust you. after all, how could i be pregnant? it’s not like you replaced my birth control with sugar pills or something. it’s not like you took off the condom when i wasn’t looking. it’s not like you slipped something into my drink to make me forget what you did to me.

and then, when the contractions start, when i get the insatiable urge to push, i want to see the look on your face. i want you to watch me as the realization dawns on me that ive been carrying your baby this whole time.

[prettyandpushing]

🤰🍼2️⃣🏠🩲🙇⚡️

thanks :>

BUILD A BIRTH VOL. 2 - now with birth denial options!

🤰 female

🍼 human

2️⃣  Twins

🏠  home

🩲  tight clothing

🙇  all fours

⚡ rapid preg/birth

It had been a long, amazing night, and Ella hadn't wanted it to end. She had stumbled home at an ungodly hour, fighting out of the thigh high boots she'd gotten (a thousand) compliments on all night and refused to check exactly what time it was. It had been her best friend's birthday, which meant she'd dressed to the nines. The gorgeous, expensive leather shorts she wore were practically a second skin and molded perfectly to her ass, meant to pair with those painful thigh high boots and the strappy top she'd been adjusting all night.

All her energy went towards getting out of that top, taking off her fake lashes, and ripping off her bra. Ella would handle the shorts she'd spent a solid 15 minutes wiggling into in the morning. She decided sleep was much more important.

Grumbling to herself, she flopped onto her bed, turning on her TV and flipping on her Youtube. She turned on one of those ASMR videos, something with nature sounds and ambiance. Good enough. She was asleep in a matter of minutes.

It definitely wasn't morning when she woke. It was absolutely not nature noises she heard when she woke, either.

"...the miracle of birth will begin, you will feel-"

Ella scrunched up her nose and grabbed her remote to check the video.

MANIFEST TWIN PREGNANCY RAPID RESULTS! REAL! NOT ROLEPLAY! ACTUAL RESULTS!

She stared, annoyed, then turned it off. Her autoplay results really were going to be fucked up for a few days. Seriously, Youtube, what the fuck? She groaned, then rolled over to go back to sleep.

HOUR 3

Ella woke up again a few hours later, stretching and making a face as she peered down at herself. Damn, she needed to lay off the bar food, it was making her bloated. The amusement didn't last, though, because she was running to the bathroom to puke her brains out.

Fantastic, a hangover. Ella was famously pretty resilient when it came to hangovers, and now she was sick as a dog. When she stood to wash out her mouth, she examined herself properly in the mirror.

Last night's makeup, messy hair from last night's updo, her tank-top...still wearing those shorts. She examined the slight swell of her stomach in the outfit.

"I'll probably puke this away with this hangover..." She muttered, then shuffled back to bed. A nap would fix this, right?

HOUR 5

Awake for real. Ella had to join the world of the living. When she woke, the nausea had passed and...her stomach had swollen again. Fucking hell. She stared at herself, wondering if it was some fucked up optical illusion.

It had to be.

Maybe it was these goddamn shorts.

Speaking of...

She grabbed on the shorts, trying to pull them off. The fight for the next twenty minutes told her that she should have taken them off the night before. Shit.

She'd call her friend to come over and help her get them off.

...If she knew where her phone was.

Trying to find her phone meant crawling around her apartment for the next hour, which was getting increasingly hard with her...was her belly getting larger again?

HOUR 6

She was digging through a pile of laundry when she felt movement in her abdomen.

No.

No, absolutely not.

That wasn't real. Ella felt at her stomach, staring at the (terrifyingly) swollen bump. She still hadn't found her phone. Where the fuck was it?! What the fuck was going on with her?!

Another movement.

No. Not real.

She sucked in a sharp breath and shook her head.

HOUR 7

Her belly had become something that definitely looked like a (very) pregnant woman's belly. It looked far too pregnant, in fact. Like, so pregnant that Ella was afraid that if this was real (it could not be) she was in danger of giving birth any goddamn moment.

It couldn't be real.

ASMR videos didn't get people pregnant. She hadn't had sex in months. Okay, it had been a year. A hell of a dry spell. She'd been counting.

That's why it couldn't be real. That's why the kicking couldn't be real. That's why when she went to go out to her car, and her front door wouldn't open, Ella burst into tears.

She'd been meaning to get that lock fixed for months. It was an old house. The lock to the front door had a bad habit of getting stuck and would require either a locksmith or someone with a crowbar to open.

Annnd Ella had left the crowbar in the trunk of her car.

She sunk down against the door, sobbing into her hands. This wasn't a horror movie, she wasn't dying. She just had to find her phone. It was going to be fine. Maybe she was just having a nightmare. A really weird nightmare. ASMR videos didn't get people fucking pregnant...

HOUR 8

hopefulmama2020: IT WORKED!! thank you!! anonymous2298882: holy shit i should have read the disclaimers about how fast it works but thanks familyof4: I don't know if it's witchcraft or god's work but you're amazing, thank you. And no ads, which is proof you're doing this for all the right reasons.

She was digging desperately through the comment section of the video she'd woken up to the night before (while keeping it paused and muted. Ella absolutely didn't want anything...weird to happen again.) She was sure these all had to be bots or people paid to comment positively, until...

anonymous3388088: WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS??? humanperson22: you can't just PUT THIS IN THE AUTOPLAY FEATURE YT SOMEONE IS GONNA GET HURT singlemama32: you need to put BETTER WARNINGS IN PLACE! I was ON A DATE!

There was something sobering and horrifying about seeing people complain about this like it was a consumer product and not some terrifying curse (if it was even real.) The nudging against her womb insisted she pay attention. Ella sobbed into her hands. What were her options? Her phone was still MIA. She was locked in her home.

Her laptop. She'd message her friends, tell them to come over....

She struggled to get up against the weight of her stomach, going to get her laptop...

Dead. Fuck.

Plugged it in, waited for it to boot up...

Every minute was torture. She messaged her friends frantically, waiting for any of them to answer, waiting for someone to get online. Everyone was clearly still recovering from last night, because nobody was online.

Could she even reach emergency services on her laptop?!

A twinge of pain distracted her from this train of thought.

HOUR 9

Labor of a child she hadn't been pregnant with the night before was a terror Ella didn't know she was capable of. Her body hadn't been prepared for this.

"Please, no," she gasped, grabbing at the doorway between her kitchen and living room. Pain radiated low in her abdomen, spreading through her and making her legs shake under her. She stumbled with each step, hands shaking as she pressed her palms to the wall in an attempt to steady herself.

"I've gotta..." More pain. She cried out, a sharp noise as she pulled at her shorts again. They felt even tighter against her skin, surely on the breaking point with the swell of her belly and the increased curve of her ass. She whined as she tried to move towards her bedroom.

Each step felt like fire. She whimpered, moving so slowly it felt like eternity. "This can't be real, it can't be real, it can't---"

A release of pressure. Relief, and then fluid pooling between her legs. Her shorts were damp now, more discomfort as she whined and leaned against the wall again.

"No, no, stop, stop, I can't do that, not like this," there was no way her water had just broken. This whole thing had just started. She had just...she was not pregnant to begin with!

Ella took another hard, sharp breath and stumbled a few feet closer to her bedroom. A contraction, as she knew it, came. It was harder and longer than the others, more urgent. She howled in pain, brought to her knees by the sensation.

"Please, please, get off..." Her breaths came in huffs and gasps while she tried to fight with the tight leather again. Another contraction. Ella squealed and shook her head.

"I can't, not like that, please, wait..."

Her body wouldn't listen. It was slowly opening her, a large, heavy pressure insistently rocking against her cervix. Horrified, she resisted the strange, unfamiliar urge that came with the feeling.

"No..." She sobbed.

It wasn't fair. She hadn't done anything to deserve this. Ella had been safe, she had been good, all she did was come home, all she did was go to sleep, and now...

Now she had to push.

"No!" She shrieked. She crawled towards her bed, desperate to at least give birth on her bed like...like what, a proper mother? What did that even mean?

It didn't matter. Her body didn't care. It pushed for her. She screamed and dug her nails into the carpet. The pain passed. Ella breathed between the contractions and stared at the floor as tears dripped down her face.

"I've got to get...these off..." She whimpered. She started grabbing the waistband of the shorts. She started pulling on them. Another contraction.

"Fuck! Stop! Stop, stop, stop!"

Her body pushed, even if she tried not to. Ella whined and writhed on all fours, a desperate, cornered animal without a choice. She sobbed for help, for it to stop, for anything. Nobody answered.

This cycle continued for what felt like forever, but not long enough for Ella to even begin to acclimate. To her horror, she felt something spreading her pussy open.

"No, no, I can't---" She reached to touch it. It was pressing against the tight leather of her shorts. "Please, please, there's no---"

A scream. It was loud, desperate, and instinctive this time. She pushed this time, giving in to the pain and demands of her body. The head of the baby she hadn't even been fucked to create began spreading her open.

"It hurts, it hurts, please, please," she pleaded. Her legs shook. Her hands gripped the carpet so hard she feared her nails would tear.

Another push. Another wail of absolute, unfettered agony. Ella finally gathered the nerve to do something she'd been avoiding since this labor had started: she turned to look in the mirror.

There was a long, full length mirror in her room that sat across from her bed. As she looked over her shoulder, she could see herself. On all fours, her hair a mess, her skin flushed, she was a trembling disaster. Her shorts were barely a few inches down her hip and...oh god.

There was the distinct shape of a baby's head crowning into her shorts. Ella howled in terror as the next contraction tore through her, bearing down so hard she feared she would break. She didn't. She pushed again. She begged for mercy from an entity that didn't answer.

"Please, please..." She gasped. She fought to pull the shorts down a little more. Mercifully, a little more progress. The baby filled what little room she made by pulling her shorts down.

"Stop! Oh my god, stop---"

She was pushing again. The baby was filling every inch of her and forcing itself out of her in the same breath. Ella whined in desperation as she felt it started to twist and move.

"Please, please..." Pulling a little more. The shorts weren't off, but...

"It burns, it burns---" A full crown. There were no words for the pain. Ella sobbed. She couldn't form thoughts as the way the head stretched her came over her, pushing hard and lowering her head. The pain overtook her, an experience she'd never be able to let go.

"Oh, fuck!" The head had just enough room to emerge from her. She gasped and hooked her fingers into the waistband of her shorts, pulling them down a few more inches.

"Just...a little...more..." She gasped.

Another push. The shoulders twisted and she whined, gritting her teeth as she bore down. "Out, out, out, please---"

Release. A cry. Ella reached and pulled the baby from the tight space in her shorts. It was a healthy baby boy. She stared at it in abject confusion. At least it was...healthy? But...how? How was this real? How was any of this...

She didn't have time. It was happening again.

It was happening again?!

"Not again, please, not again--"

It was happening again and fast. Ella howled in terror as a second head pressed hard against her cervix. There was no luxury of ignorance this time: she knew it was going to hurt. She knew it would stretch her open, that it would be unrelenting, that she had nowhere she could run.

She would give birth, and that was that.

"Fuck! Oh god, fuck!" Ella screeched as the head started to clear her cervix. She pushed hard, desperate for this to be over, but her body only had so much strength. Each contraction brought fresh new agony but not enough progress.

It felt like it was all going too quickly but not quickly enough.

She thought that, of course, until the massive head of the baby was crowning.

"No! No, oh my god, no!" It was too big. The first baby was already too big, and this one was bigger. Fuck. No. She would die. It would tear her open, and she would---

She gave in to the urge to push, crying out for help as she did so. Each push brought more fear and more pain. Each push stretched her wider. Each push brought her closer to her limit.

"Oh god, it's coming out, no, no, no!" she shrieked until her voice broke. Nothing was going to stop it. In that moment, she wondered how any woman could choose to do this more than once. It wasn't like she'd been given a choice--

"Please!" It came to a full crown. She squirmed against it, trying to wiggle away from the pain. It didn't relent. She sobbed and pushed again. The head emerged. She made a startled noise and swore she almost passed out.

"Almost...almost..." She wasn't sure who she was talking to, herself, the baby she'd already birthed, or the one nearly born, but...

She pushed again. And again, and...

"One more, one more, one..." The shoulders twisted hard. She cried out and dug her nails into the carpet one more time. The baby slid out and screamed, the sound drowned out by Ella's howls of agony.

A healthy baby girl.

She finally fought to get the shorts off. It was about an hour after the birth that she found her phone (in the back pocket of said shorts) and two hours before her friends messaged her back.

Maybe she'd stop listening to videos to sleep at night.

[pregobirthlvr]

I like the idea of writing a particularly difficult birth, so how about this?

2 / bed / 4 (extremely slow) / painful > Agonizing / No help / bath > bed / on side > squatting / Head first > posterior / Brutal > impossible / Second (you, female-minded)

Two for one

Word count: 1060

You woke up a few times during the night with cramping in your massive belly. Each time you tried to convince yourself it was just some Braxton hicks and went back to bed. That was until an unusually bad one had you gripping the sheets and crying out. When it was finally over, you made an attempt to sit up. It was quite the struggle with your massive belly and swollen breasts holding you down. With a bit of time you eventually managed to get yourself resting against the pillows.

Your contractions came and went through the day. Each one was getting more painful than the last and closer together. You found it harder to time when you could get up to use the bathroom or grab food. Each time you’d think you’d make it but a contraction would force you to lean against the wall in order to stay upright. 

Now it was nearly dinner time. You’ve been laboring all day and are exhausted. At some point you managed to move from the bed to the bathroom. Where you’re now clinging to the tub and fully screaming through your current contraction. 

The pain continued to grow and so did your voice. Finally, your screams turned to pants as the contraction started to die down. You shifted your weight between your knees and leaned over to start the bath. Your belly brushed the cold edge of the bathtub, sending a shiver through you. The water started to fill the tub as you shook off the robe you’ve been failing to keep closed. 

You weren’t able to get into the tub before the pain started to creep up inside you. Your belly contorting in time with your next contraction. You were forced yet again to grab at the tub and scream through a contraction. The water lapped against your hand distracting you from the fading contraction. You quickly realized the faucet was still running and the tub was getting dangerously full.   

You heaved yourself up, your legs shaking from the last of the contraction lingering.With just a bit of strain you managed to stop the water from flowing. The warm water was nice on your skin. You know the tub should be drained a bit before you get in but you were too exhausted to care. Water splashed on the floor from your massive body raising the waterline and causing it to spill. 

You had just enough time to fully sit before the next contraction was starting. This time you started to feel the need to push. You leaned back and tried to just breathe. Your body had a different idea. It wasn’t long before you felt yourself push. Your body took over and wanted this baby out. 

The baby filled your birth canal slowly and painfully. With each contraction you pushed with all your might. Only to move the baby barely an inch with each push. The water had long turned cold by the time the head was pressing against your lips. The next handful of contractions felt like the worst ones yet. It wasn’t the pain raging through your back and hips, it was the burning between your thighs. The head was stretching you far beyond what you would think possible. 

Then with a scream, the head popped free. You reached down to check for a cord. When there wasn’t one, you began to push again. The shoulders pressed against your hole only for a moment before they too popped free. It was barely a push after that to get the rest of the baby out. 

You lifted the new life from the water as it started to cry. You finally were able to relax. You held your new baby and started to drain the tub. Soon after it emptied you climbed out and wrapped yourself and the newborn in towels. 

You waddled off down the hall. The pain in between your legs made your waddle even worse than when you were carrying both babies inside you. A contraction started halfway to the bedroom, signalling your next baby would be born soon. You managed to take deep breaths and walk through the pain. 

It worked long enough to place your newborn in the bassinet. Then you collapsed to the floor. You arched your back and let out a deep moan as the pain took over. This baby felt bigger and you were already so tired from pushing out the first one. You didn't know how you were going to do it again. 

The labor was more painful than your last, the baby weighed heavily on your abused pelvis and pressed against your tender insides. You couldn't help but writhe and scream when your body told you to push. The baby was bigger but something else felt wrong. The massive baby finally reached your abused opening. With a shaky hand you reached around your deflated stomach and felt for the head. 

Instead, your blood ran cold as you felt the bottom of your baby. You almost let out a sob but was cut off by another painful contraction. You pushed hard. Then again. Then again. The baby barely moved each time. When you collapsed back after a contraction you decided it was time to move. Very shakily and gingerly you were able to pull yourself up into a squat. It was just the trick. The next contraction had you pushing hard. This time the baby stretched your lips open. You focused on keeping yourself from falling over as a distraction from the pain. The noises you made were purely animalistic at this point, grunts, moans, and screams all mixed together in an attempt to get the baby out. 

The legs slipped free with the last push. Then the baby's body. The arms and head were still securely inside. You reached between your legs and tried to pull the arms free. Only to switch to plant them on the floor to help balance yourself as you push again. You didn't stop even when the contractions did. It was harder but the baby couldn't stay inside you much longer. 

A blood curdling scream filled the room as you gave your last massive push your all. It worked and the baby popped free. You quickly gathered the baby and laid down on the floor as you held it close to your chest. 

[bigpushes]

mutual birth with a domme who finds herself in labor at the same time as her sub and struggles to try to hide her contractions and then hide the fact that she's pushing while she guides her sub through their own birth— she's tied the wrists of her sub to the bedframe, leaving them flat on their back and curved over their belly while they push to give her the best possible view of what's happening between their legs; she kneels on the bed in front of them and keeps her thighs squeezed tightly together, sweat beading on her brow as she guides her sub through their pushing ("you're doing so well for me, pet" and "spread those legs just a little bit wider for me" and "im going to need you to push harder than that" and "there you go, thaaaaaats it" and "you look so perfect like this, that sweet little pussy bulging wide open for me, you're going to be crowning soon- can you feel that?") all the while fighting off the very same instincts— the head of her own baby is grinding down through her birth canal and past the tight ring of her cervix and just as her sub begins to show their first signs of crowning, the urge to push becomes too strong to ignore and she can't fight it anymore.

she falls back onto the bed and grabs hold of her thighs, pulling her legs back towards her chest as she frantically bears down, eager to get her birth over with as quickly as possible so that she can get back to the experience of watching her sub. "just... need to get it out." she grits her teeth and shoves, the naked swell of her belly pulled so low and taut that it blocks the sight of her bulging cunt.

"y-you've been pushing?" they cry, twisting against their restraints so that they can get a clearer view of her without the obstruction of their belly in the way. "don't- hnnnnngah-ah- don't rush it like that! you'll tear."

she shakes her head, rising up on her heels and bringing one hand down to cup her gaping vagina. her perineum bulges into her palm as she inhales and pushes again, and she grunts as she feels the lips of her pussy slowly start to part. "just let me do it. its- fuck, its coming anyway. cant stop it."

her sub stares at her with wide eyes, caught off guard by seeing her so uninhibited. so animalistic. she looks both frantic and determined, bearing down with gravity as the unrelenting urge to deliver the baby consumes her. "crowning," she announces through gritted teeth, skin flushed and dripping with sweat. "just... just breathe for me, 'kay? i'm almost- hoooo, almost d-doneeee."

they do take in a deep breath, momentarily distracted from the stinging pain between their own legs as they watch the sight happening between hers.

"one more," she mumbles to herself, head slipping just past a full crown. her hand trembles around it as she provides as much support as she can, body powered by pure adrenaline. "just one more- p-pushhhh."

the slide of the head's emergence is slow, and she feels every bit of the burn as the lips of her cunt stretch around the head. "get... out," she roars, throwing her head back as her hips jut forward—the head pops free in a burst of fluid, dangling between her thighs just for a moment before a final push sends it sliding onto the fluid soaked sheets beneath her.

"okay," she mutters, giving her wailing infant- a daughter, much larger in size than the rapid nature of her birth would have suggested- a quick once over. "okay, okay. I did it."

her attention immediately shifts back to her sub, currently panting their way through a contraction as the head of their own baby begins to peek through their furled slit. "now," she says, still somewhat breathless. "where were we, pet?"

[foxphantom]

Consecutive birth experiences that are wildly different from the other.

Your first birth is orgasmic. You're so excited for the second, but then it ends up being the longest and most painful experience of your life.

Or the opposite. You're so scared for your second birth, more than you were for your first, because now that you've done it once, you know how hard it can be. But then the day comes and it's the best experience you've ever had.

A first birth that's calm, serene. Not easy, but intimate, you're in control of it. Maybe a home birth with your partner. And then the second birth ends up happening in public, completely not what you've planned.

The first birth was just one baby. This one is three. It lasts so much longer. You had no idea it would take so much out of you, each hour it goes on draining you more than you think possible.

[drkthoughts-k]

Need to be in the woods in the arms of a masked captor, crying while they hold me and adjust the rope they used to tie me down. It's such a cute moment, just a little prey whimpering in the new owners arms

[strugglingswelling]

[opbreeder99]

Imagine a witch who punishes by syncing a woman to a pregnant one. The newly cursed woman's body rapidly changes to match the one who's currently overdue with a set of twins... or more. She doesn't even get a few hours to recover before her link goes into labor. But the biggest punishment is the fact that she can't make any progress. There is a magical barrier keeping her babies at the same position and progress of the one she takes after. So one second she could be trying to push, and the next, the head is barreling through her birth canal without her control.

Rp requests are open! Send your discord in dms!

[breederking]

It was days after my 19th birthday, working the graveyard shift at the local grocery store, stocking shelves with canned goods and cereal boxes. It was the only job I knew how to do, really. School had never been a thing for me, not with the revolving door of guardians and the streets playing teacher most of the time. The public bus was my chariot to this world of fluorescent lights and expiration dates, a place where no one knew me, and I liked it that way. It was easier to be invisible. Easier to keep my head down and just do the work that needed to be done.

On the way home from work, something changed. A man, older, stronger, pulled me onto his lap. His hands were rough, his breath hot in my ear, and his intentions... I didn't know what they were. I didn't know what was happening to me. But fear had taught me silence, so I remained quiet as he did... whatever it was that he did. After it was over, I stumbled off the bus, my body feeling foreign and violated, but I pushed the confusion deep down, tucking it away with all the other things I didn't understand. It hurt but I liked it. I could tell it was wrong but I wasn't sure why.

Days turned into weeks, and my body began to change in ways I didn't understand. My belly grew rounder, my chest more sensitive. I'd wake up in a cold sweat, a sticky mess between my legs. When the whispers started at work, the sly glances, the snickers, I had no idea what they were talking about. But I knew it was about me. I tried to hide it, to ignore it, but the evidence was written all over my body, in the way my pants didn't fit and the way I had to lean against the shelves to relieve the pressure in my lower back.

My reflection in the mirror at home was a stranger's. Breasts grew where none had been before, swollen and tender. They leaked a strange white fluid that I thought was a sign of sickness. I didn't know about periods or pregnancy, the lessons of womanhood had passed me by in the school of hard knocks. The pain was intense, and I felt so alone, so utterly lost in the chaos of my own flesh.

As the months dragged on, the weight in my belly grew heavier. It was like I had swallowed a watermelon whole, and it was slowly expanding, taking over my entire being. I tried to ignore it, to keep my shifts at the grocery store, to keep my head down and push through. But the pain grew sharper, the discomfort more pronounced. My once loose work shirt was stretched taut over my swollen stomach, the fabric straining against my skin. The whispers grew louder, the stares more blatant.

The man from the bus had taken something from me that night, something vital and confusing. He had planted a seed without my consent, and now it was growing, thriving in the most unwelcome way possible. I touched my belly, feeling the firmness of it, the way it had changed from the flat plane I knew to this alien landscape of curves and swells. The skin was tight, almost painfully so, and when I pressed down, I could feel something moving inside of me, something alive. It was terrifying and fascinating all at once, a silent dance of life that I could never have anticipated.

My body had become a battleground, a canvas for something I didn't ask for. My chest felt heavy, the new breasts aching with a constant, throbbing pain. They were a betrayal, a constant reminder of what had been done to me. The white fluid that leaked from them was thick and sticky, and I'd often find myself wiping it away in disgust, wondering if this was normal. Was this what it was like for the girls I saw at the store, with their perky breasts and knowing smiles?

The nights grew restless as my body began to change in other ways. I'd feel a sharp pain in my lower stomach, a cramp that would bend me over, making me gasp. I'd double over in the stockroom, clutching my belly, and when the pain passed, I'd stand up, wipe the sweat from my brow, and pretend everything was fine. I'd seen enough of the world to know that asking for help was often a fool's errand, especially for someone like me.

My boss called me into his office one night. He was a gruff old man who didn't tolerate much, but his eyes were filled with something I hadn't seen before: pity. He told me I needed to take some time off, that I couldn't work like this. I didn't understand. He handed me a small stack of cash and told me to take care of myself. I nodded, took the money, and left without looking back, my heart racing and my eyes burning with unshed tears.

That night, I laid down on the bed, my belly pressing against the stained comforter, and finally let myself cry. The tears came in a flood, soaking my shirt and pooling on my stomach. I didn't know what was happening to me, but I knew it was wrong. Why was my body doing this to me?

The days passed in a blur of pain and confusion. The cramps grew more intense, and I could feel something shifting inside of me. I didn't know what it was, but it scared me. The thought of going to the hospital made me want to retch. I didn't have insurance, and I was afraid of what they'd do to me. Was this something the cops would help with? I had no answers, only fear and the deep, gnawing pain that seemed to never leave.

One evening, the pain became unbearable. I stumbled into the bathroom and looked into the mirror, my eyes wide with terror. My belly was now massive, stretched to the point that I could see the veins beneath the skin, a map of blue lines crisscrossing the mound of flesh that was my new reality. The skin was taut and shiny, and the sight of my once-flat stomach now a round, bulging mass filled me with dread. My breasts were heavy, the nipples dark and pointed, the areolas swollen and sensitive. I didn't recognize myself anymore.

I was a mere skeleton of my former self, with the extra weight all concentrated in my midsection. The reflection staring back at me was that of somebody I didn't quite recognize, but the face was still mine, a young man's face, filled with fear and confusion. The stark contrast between the two images made me feel like I was looking at a monstrous parody of myself, a cruel joke played by fate. My shoulders were thin and bony, my arms stick-like as they supported the weight of my new, unwanted form.

The pain grew sharper, more insistent, and I realized with a sinking feeling that I was about to face the consequences of that night on the bus. I didn't know what was happening, but I knew it was coming soon. I lay down on the bed, trying to find a comfortable position, but it was like trying to fit a square peg into a round hole. My body was no longer mine; it had been hijacked by something inside me. I was nothing more than a vessel for something I didn't understand, something that had been forced upon me without my consent.

As the night grew darker, so did my thoughts. Panic set in, my heart racing as the contractions grew stronger and closer together. I had no idea what to do, no one to turn to. I'd always been on my own, but now, in this moment, I felt more alone than ever before. I could feel the pressure building, a primal instinct telling me to push, but I didn't know what I was pushing for.

A sudden gush of warm fluid flooded my pants, soaking the bed beneath me. I stared down in horror as the wetness spread, my mind racing. Was my belly full of fluid? Was I dying? The pain was unbearable now, a constant pressure that seemed to be pushing me to the brink of madness. I didn't know what was happening, but I knew it was time. Time for what, I wasn't sure, but the urgency in my body was undeniable.

With trembling hands, I managed to take my pants off. They slid down my legs with ease, a stark contrast to the tightness that had become my daily struggle. My underwear was soaked, sticking to my skin, and when I peeled it away, I saw that the fluid was tinged with blood. My stomach lurched, and a scream tore from my throat, raw and primal. I had never felt anything like this before, and the sight of the blood only served to amplify the terror that was already coursing through me.

The contractions grew stronger, and I couldn't help but let out a low moan with each one. They were like waves, crashing into me and pulling me under, leaving me gasping for air. I curled up on the bed, my fists clenching the sheets as the pain grew more intense. There was a pressure building in my pelvis, a feeling of something pushing, demanding to be let out.

Tears streamed down my cheeks as I felt a strange sensation, something moving, something that didn't belong inside me. The pain grew to a crescendo, and I couldn't hold it in anymore. I screamed, the sound echoing through the empty apartment, as I bore down with all my might. The pressure grew unbearable, and I felt something tearing, a sensation so intense that I thought I would split in two.

And then, amidst the pain, there was a moment of relief, a sudden release. I looked down between my legs to see a tiny, squalling creature, covered in blood and fluid, emerging from my body. It was a baby, a tiny, helpless baby, and it was mine. The realization hit me like a ton of bricks, and I sobbed even harder, my body shaking with the force of the contractions that hadn't ceased.

I didn't know what to do, so I did the only thing I could think of: I picked up the baby, cradling it in my arms. It was so small, so fragile, and it was looking up at me with eyes that hadn't yet focused. The crying was the most beautiful sound I had ever heard, a sound that brought with it a flood of emotions I didn't know I was capable of feeling. Fear, pain, and confusion swirled inside me like a tornado, but there was something else too, something warm and fierce: love.

I sat on the edge of the bed, my body exhausted, and just held the baby, rocking back and forth, trying to soothe its cries. The world outside felt so far away, like I was in a bubble, just the two of us. I didn't know how to change a diaper, how to feed it, or what to do next, but I knew I had to protect it. This tiny human being was mine, a part of me that I hadn't asked for, but a part of me nonetheless.