*CW* for painful birth situations and dark themes | MINORS DNI | side blog for more birth/cnc content | 28 y/o woman she/her with preg impreg and birth fetish. | follow my main blog for less graphic content: @doing-swellie 💕
Sabrina was twenty six years old, five feet three inches tall, and carrying triplets. Her belly was a hard, stretched drum that had consumed her entire frame. She could no longer tie her shoes, could not roll over in bed without a plan, could not remember what it felt like to go an hour without heartburn or a small foot wedged under her ribs. She and her husband John had tried for four years. Fertility treatments had given them three at once. When the ultrasound tech pointed to the three flickering heartbeats, Sabrina had laughed and cried and thrown up all in the same minute.
But the joy sat next to a cold, growing dread. Triplets. Three babies. One cervix. She had read the statistics. She had watched the YouTube videos. She knew that triplet births were almost never straightforward.
By thirty five weeks, the triplets had settled into their positions. Baby A was head down, low and ready, a solid eight pounds already. Baby B was also head down, slightly higher, a more modest seven pounds. Baby C was the problem. Baby C had turned posterior, his spine pressed against Sabrina's spine, his hard little skull facing the wrong way. The obstetrician, a no nonsense woman named Dr. Patel, recommended a hospital birth with a full team. Sabrina agreed without hesitation. She wanted the epidural. She wanted the operating room on standby. She wanted all the interventions.
Her midwife, a warm but direct woman named Carol, would assist Dr. Patel. The plan was vaginal delivery if possible, C section if not. Sabrina hoped for vaginal. She had dreamed of pushing, of feeling her babies pass through her body. But she was also terrified. The triplets were big. Baby A alone was projected to be over nine pounds by birth. The combined weight was nearly twenty five pounds of baby inside a body that had started at one hundred thirty.
The labor began at 3 AM on a Thursday. Sabrina woke to a contraction that wrapped around her entire abdomen like a vise. She sat up in bed, breathing hard, and woke John. By 5 AM, the contractions were five minutes apart. By 7 AM, they were three minutes apart and Sabrina could no longer talk through them. John drove to the hospital with the hazard lights on, running red lights when the streets were empty.
Dr. Patel met them in the labor and delivery triage. A cervical check showed six centimeters. "You are in active labor," she said. "We are going to move you to a delivery room. You can labor in any position you like. Walking, squatting, the ball, hands and knees. Whatever feels right. But I want you to stay upright as much as possible. Gravity is your friend with triplets."
Sabrina nodded. She had done her research. She knew the positions.
The delivery room was large, almost the size of a small apartment, with a hospital bed that folded and twisted, a birth ball in the corner, a squat bar attached to the bed, and a team of nurses already setting up two warming stations for the babies. A third warming station was on standby. Dr. Patel and Carol the midwife stood by a monitor displaying the triplets' heartbeats. Three distinct lines, three different rhythms, all strong.
Sabrina labored for the next six hours without stopping. She started on the birth ball, sitting upright with her legs wide, rocking her hips in circles through each contraction. John knelt in front of her, holding her hands, counting her breaths. When the contractions became too intense for sitting, she dropped to her hands and knees on a padded mat on the floor. She pressed her forehead to the cool linoleum and let her enormous belly hang toward the ground. Carol rubbed her lower back, where Baby C's posterior spine was grinding against her sacrum with every wave.
By noon, Sabrina was nine centimeters. She moved to a deep squat against the wall, using John's shoulders for balance. Her thighs screamed. Her back was on fire. Baby C's posterior position meant that every contraction sent a lightning bolt of pain straight through her tailbone. She vomited twice. She cried. She asked for the epidural she had said she wanted.
But it was too late. She was nine and a half centimeters. There was no time.
"Baby A is crowning," Carol said calmly. "I can see the top of the head. Sabrina, you need to move to the bed or stay squatting. But you are about to push."
Sabrina wanted to squat. She wanted to stay upright, to use gravity, to keep her pelvis as open as possible. She dropped into a low squat next to the bed, gripping the edge of the mattress. John squatted behind her, his arms around her chest, holding her up. Dr. Patel knelt in front of her in blue scrubs and a sterile gown.
"The head is right there," Dr. Patel said. "On the next contraction, push."
The contraction came. Sabrina pushed. She pushed with a sound she had never made before, a deep roaring grunt that came from the bottom of her lungs. Baby A's head stretched her perineum. It burned. It burned like nothing she had ever felt. The head advanced a little, then slipped back when she stopped pushing.
"Again," Dr. Patel said. "Do not stop. Keep pushing through the contraction."
Sabrina pushed again. The head crowned. The ring of fire was real, was unbearable, was exactly what every mother had warned her about. She felt her skin stretch to its limit. She felt the widest part of the skull slide past her pubic bone. The head came out. One ear, then the other. The chin. Baby A's face was squashed and furious, eyes squeezed shut, mouth open in a silent cry.
But the shoulders did not follow.
Dr. Patel's face changed. "Shoulder dystocia. Sabrina, I need you to change positions. Get on your hands and knees. Now."
John helped her roll forward. Sabrina knelt on all fours on the hospital floor, her head down, her hips high. Baby A's head was out, dangling between her legs, his face turning from pink to a dusky purple. Carol reached up and pressed above Sabrina's pubic bone, trying to dislodge the anterior shoulder. Dr. Patel reached inside and tried to rotate the baby. The team tilted the bed. A nurse pushed on Sabrina's abdomen from above.
"Push!" Dr. Patel commanded.
Sabrina pushed with everything she had left. The anterior shoulder slipped free. The rest of the baby slid out in a gush of fluid and blood. Baby A was enormous. The nurses whisked him to the warming station. He cried immediately, a furious wail. Twelve pounds one ounce. John looked at the scale and went pale.
"Baby A is a boy," Carol said, but she did not hand him to Sabrina. There was no time. Baby B was already descending.
Sabrina stayed on her hands and knees. Baby B was head down, but he was larger than they had thought, nearly nine pounds. He came faster than his brother. The head crowned after only three pushes. This time, the shoulders came without dystocia. Baby B slid out, purple and wailing, and the nurses took him to the second warming station. Eight pounds fourteen ounces. A girl.
Sabrina should have felt relief. Two babies were out. But Baby C was still inside, and Baby C was posterior. The contractions had not stopped. They were coming every minute now, each one sending a spike of agony through her lower back.
She rolled onto her side. The posterior position meant that Baby C's hard occiput was pressing against her sacrum, the wrong way around. Each push felt like someone was driving a wedge into her tailbone. She screamed. She begged for something, anything, for the pain to stop.
Dr. Patel checked the position. "Baby C is still posterior. He has not rotated. Sabrina, I need you to get on the birth ball. Sit upright. Let gravity open your pelvis. We need to try to turn him."
John helped her onto the large rubber ball. Sabrina sat, legs wide, feet planted on the floor. She rocked her hips in circles. She lifted and lowered herself. The contraction came and she pushed, but the posterior head would not descend. It was stuck, the widest part of the skull trying to fit through the narrowest part of her pelvis.
"Vacuum," Dr. Patel said. "We are using the vacuum."
Carol brought the sterile cup. Dr. Patel attached it to Baby C's skull. The suction pulled. Sabrina felt a deep, dragging pressure inside her pelvis. She pushed. The posterior head descended one agonizing millimeter at a time. The vacuum popped off. Dr. Patel reattached it. Sabrina pushed again. The head came down another millimeter.
"It's crowning," Carol said. "But it is coming out the wrong way. The face is up. This is going to tear you, Sabrina. I am sorry. There is no way around it."
Sabrina did not care about tearing anymore. She just wanted the baby out. She pushed with a scream that echoed off the tile walls. The posterior head stretched her perineum unevenly, the brow pressing where the chin should have been. She felt her skin split. A hot, sharp tear. Then another. Blood ran down her thighs and pooled on the floor.
The head came out. The face was looking at the ceiling. Baby C was completely posterior. Dr. Patel reached in and checked for the cord. It was wrapped around the neck once, loose, easily slipped over. "Push again. The shoulders."
Sabrina pushed. The shoulders came, but one arm was folded. Dr. Patel reached in and freed it. The rest of the baby slid out, small and limp, only six pounds. Baby C did not cry. The respiratory team swooped in. They rubbed the tiny back. They suctioned the mouth. After a long terrible moment, Baby C coughed and wailed. A second girl.
Dr. Patel did not hand Baby C to Sabrina. Instead, she looked between Sabrina's legs and spoke quietly to Carol. "We have a third degree tear. Possibly fourth. I need to stitch immediately. And I need to check for uterine atony. She has lost a lot of blood."
Sabrina was still on the birth ball. She was shaking uncontrollably. John held her upright. The nurses placed all three babies on a warmer and checked their vitals. Baby A was stable. Baby B was stable. Baby C was stable but small, requiring a little oxygen.
They moved Sabrina to the hospital bed. They put her legs in stirrups. Dr. Patel began to stitch. The needle went in and out of Sabrina's torn perineum. She did not flinch. She was beyond flinching. Her eyes were fixed on the three warming stations across the room, where three small bodies lay under radiant heat, three pairs of lungs breathing, three hearts beating.
"Can I see them?" she whispered.
John brought them to her one by one. Baby A, the twelve pound giant, already rooting for food. Baby B, the calm middle child, staring at the ceiling with dark eyes. Baby C, the tiny posterior baby, wrapped in a pink blanket, her face still a little bruised from the delivery.
Sabrina held all three as well as she could, stacked across her chest like logs. She was still being stitched. She could feel every pull of the suture. But she did not look away from her babies.
"That was the hardest thing I have ever done," she said to John.
John kissed her forehead. His hands were still shaking. "You were incredible," he said. "I have never seen anyone fight like that."
Sabrina looked down at Baby C, the posterior baby, the one who had torn her open. "You," she said quietly, "were a nightmare."
Baby C yawned.
Dr. Patel tied the last stitch. "Forty seven sutures," she said. "Third degree tear. It will heal. But Sabrina, no more babies. Your uterus cannot handle another pregnancy."
Sabrina laughed. It was a broken, exhausted laugh. "I have three," she said. "I am done."
She lay back against the pillows, her triplets on her chest, her husband's hand in hers, her body stitched and bleeding and utterly destroyed. And for the first time in nine months, she smiled.
slut so addicted to getting pregnant that no matter how torturous birth is every single time they come crawling back, in a toxic relationship with breeding itself
birthing sub getting their ankles tied to the bed frame so that they're forced flat onto their back as the baby starts to crown, screaming and struggling because the position is wrong, because they can't get enough leverage to push, bearing down as hard as they can as they try to curl over their belly to shove against their womb all while pleading with their dom(me) to let them go, but the dom(me) refuses to give up watching their subs pussy bulge open, stretching little by little as the head peeks through their slit but makes essentially no progress, knowing full well that crowning could take hours this way even though they shower their sub with praise and tell them that its coming and that they simply have to push harder
The idea of pushing out a twins and feeling the ring of fire for both births is sooo enticing. Even better if the second time burns more and the baby weighs more
I have this recurring dream that I’m a breeder trapped in some sort of dorm or hotel with other breeders. We’re hidden from society and trapped in this community where our only purpose is to have babies over and over. In the dream I’m always pregnant, checking my belly in the mirror, getting bigger and bigger and waddling everywhere, getting fucked whenever any of the people in charge want me. Wandering the halls with my hand at the base of my back, doors open with pregnant breeders getting fucked or moaning in their tiny rooms.
Addison “Addie” Turner had never wanted to be a mother. At twenty-one, her world consisted of canvas sneakers, late-night diner runs, and the kind of reckless laughter that only came from having nothing to lose. But her boyfriend, Cole, was persuasive. Not in a sweet way. In a quiet, grinding way. He wore down her refusals over cheap wine and heavy hands on her thighs. “You’d be such a good mom,” he’d murmur. “It’ll bond us forever.” Six months later, the strip of plastic turned pink, and Addie felt her entire future shrink to the size of a grain of rice on an ultrasound screen.
She was forty-one weeks and three days pregnant huge, waddling, and miserable when Cole called. “Come to my place tonight. I have a surprise.” His voice had a weird hum to it, like adrenaline. Addie assumed he’d built a bassinet or maybe set up a birthing pool. He’d been talking about home birth for weeks. Low intervention, he’d said. The way nature intended. She grabbed her hospital bag out of habit, then left it on the porch when she remembered he didn’t believe in hospitals.
Cole’s house was an old farmhouse set back from the road, surrounded by dead cornfields. The front door was unlocked. Inside, the living room was empty except for a single red-lit hallway that she’d never noticed before. She followed it, her bare feet cold on the wood, her belly leading the way.
The door at the end opened into a room that stopped her breath.
It was a converted root cellar, painted in deep burgundy and lit by industrial red lights overhead. The air smelled of latex, sweat, and something metallic—like old pennies. In a semicircle stood four high-backed birthing chairs, each one angled into a deep semi-recline. Each had leather straps at the wrists and ankles, and stirrups that forced the legs wide. The chairs faced each other, close enough that the occupants could reach out and touch toes if they tried. In the center of the circle stood a single metal cart with scissors, clamps, towels, and a fetal doppler.
Three other girls were already strapped into three of the chairs.
Addie recognized them from a distance: Jenna, who worked at the grocery store; Marisa, who’d gone to high school with her; and a girl named Kayla she’d only met once at a party. Each of them was hugely pregnant, naked from the waist down, draped in a thin sheet from the waist up. Their faces were blotchy. Jenna had been crying so long her eyes were swollen shut.
“What the fuck,” Addie whispered.
Cole stepped out from behind a curtain. He was wearing blue nitrile gloves and a laminated badge on a lanyard that said DR. COLE in sharpie. His smile was wide, proud, and absolutely empty.
“Welcome to the birthing suite, babe,” he said. “Me and the guys, we made a pact. All of us get our girls pregnant at the same time. All of you give birth on the same night. I’m the doctor.” He gestured to the empty chair. “That one’s yours.”
Addie turned to run. The door had no handle on the inside.
She fought. Of course she fought. She clawed at the doorframe until her nails split. She kicked Cole in the shin hard enough to make him grunt. But two of his friends emerged from the shadows, Derek and Matt, both grinning, both wearing cheap scrubs. They grabbed her arms and walked her backward to the last empty chair. The leather was warm and slick. They forced her into the semi-recline and buckled the straps: first her wrists, then her ankles, then a thick belt across her hips so she couldn’t lift herself.
The stirrups were cold metal crescents that hooked behind her knees and forced her legs apart and up. She was completely exposed. So were the other three girls. The chairs were angled so that every birth was visible to everyone.
“You’re all at different stages,” Cole announced, checking a clipboard. “Jenna’s been in active labor for fourteen hours. Marisa for eleven. Kayla for seven. And Addie…” He walked over, lifted her sheet, and pressed two fingers inside her without warning. She screamed. “Four centimeters. Nice and tight. This is going to take a while.”
He explained the rules in the same cheerful tone a camp counselor might use for capture the flag. No one was unstrapped until the last baby was born. No one could leave. There was no phone, no window, no clock. The only light was red, which Cole claimed was “calming for the cervix.” If anyone needed a cervical check, he’d provide it. If anyone needed to push, they’d push when their body demanded it. There would be no cutting and no tearing—Cole had read an entire online forum about perineal integrity and was determined to keep every girl “intact.” That meant slow, controlled crowning. No episiotomies. No vacuum. No forceps. Just raw, prolonged stretching.
“And if something goes really wrong,” Cole added, tapping the cart, “I have a suture kit and YouTube.”
Kayla started to sob. Jenna was already beyond tears, she was making a low, animal moan that vibrated through the floor.
Addie’s labor began in earnest within the hour. Her first contraction hit like a sledgehammer to the kidneys. She’d been having Braxton Hicks for weeks, but this was different. This was a living thing inside her, turning sideways, pressing its skull against her tailbone. She remembered reading about posterior babies, sunny-side up, and how they caused back labor that made women beg for epidurals. She had no epidural. She had a red room and a fake doctor and three other girls watching her fail.
The semi-reclined position was torture. Every contraction drove the baby’s hard occiput directly into her sacrum. She tried to lean forward, but the straps held her back. She tried to lift her hips, but the belt pinned her down. All she could do was arch her spine and scream into the red dark.
“Two centimeters in two hours,” Cole announced, checking her at what felt like midnight but could have been noon. He had no concept of time either. “Good progress, Addie. You’re really opening up.”
Across the circle, Jenna began to push. Her body had decided. There was no stopping it. Her face turned purple, and a low groan rolled out of her throat as she bore down in the chair. Her baby was also posterior, Cole had mentioned earlier that all four boys had “specifically requested” that position, believing it made for “more dramatic births.” Jenna’s perineum bulged like a water balloon. Cole knelt in front of her and held a hand mirror so she could watch herself stretch.
“Nice and slow,” he cooed. “Don’t tear. I believe in you.”
It took Jenna three hours to push the head past the crown. Three hours. Addie counted every contraction of her own while watching Jenna’s skin thin to translucent, watching the dark hair of the baby appear and retreat, appear and retreat. Jenna begged for someone to cut her. She begged for a knife, for scissors, for a jagged piece of metal. Cole just smiled and said, “You’re doing so well.”
The head finally emerged slowly, impossibly and Jenna’s vagina stretched around it like a rubber band around a grapefruit. Cole caught the baby’s shoulders one at a time, rotating the body with gentle, deliberate pulls. The rest of the infant slid out in a rush of fluid and blood. A boy. Eight pounds, twelve ounces. Jenna was shaking so hard her teeth chattered.
But the baby wasn’t crying. It was gray and limp.
Cole’s composure cracked for the first time. He rubbed the infant with a towel, then pinched its feet. Nothing. He tapped the back. Nothing. Marisa started screaming from her chair, “It’s not breathing! Do something!”
Cole fumbled for a neonatal resuscitation guide he’d printed off the internet. He gave five puffs of mouth-to-mouth while compressing the tiny chest with two fingers. After ninety seconds that felt like dying, the baby coughed and let out a thin, reedy cry. Jenna sobbed with relief. Cole looked smug again, as if he’d meant for that to happen.
Addie threw up down her own chest.
Labor slowed after that. Cole was the only person doing cervical checks, catching babies, and managing the newborns, which meant each girl’s progress was artificially stalled. He’d wander away mid-contraction to tend to a crying infant or adjust a strap. He’d forget to refill water cups. He’d let the room get cold, then hot, then cold again.
Marisa went next. Her baby was the largest, Cole had measured it via a crude tape on her belly, and her posterior labor was a bloodbath. She hemorrhaged from the sheer force of pushing against an unyielding cervix. Cole packed her with gauze and told her to keep going. She pushed for four hours. Her screams went from loud to hoarse to silent, mouth open, no sound coming out. When the head finally crowned, her labia split in three small places but not full tears, Cole noted with pride, just “skid marks.” He held pressure on each one until the bleeding stopped, then told her to push again.
The baby came out shoulders first, a shoulder dystocia that required Cole to push on Marisa’s lower abdomen while pulling the infant’s arm free. The baby was born with a brachial plexus injury, its left arm flopping useless. Cole shrugged. “Physical therapy,” he said.
Kayla’s labor was the shortest but the most psychologically brutal. Her baby was posterior and also had a nuchal hand. A little fist tucked up against its own cheek, making the head wider than it should have been. She pushed for two hours without progress, her face a mask of pure suffering, while the other three newborns cried in a laundry basket Cole had repurposed as a bassinet.
“You have to push harder,” Cole told her, as if she hadn’t been pushing until her eyes bled.
Kayla looked at Addie across the circle. Her lips formed two words: Help me.
Addie couldn’t even hold her hand.
Addie was the last. Of course she was the last. By the time Cole turned his attention to her, Jenna had been in the chair for twenty-three hours, Marisa for twenty, Kayla for sixteen. The red light had shifted from artificial to hallucinatory. Addie had stopped feeling her legs hours ago. She wasn’t even sure she still had legs.
Her baby had turned slightly during the long wait not enough to be anterior, just enough to make the labor even more inefficient. She was stalled at eight centimeters for what felt like an eternity. Cole gave her a “membrane sweep” so aggressive she saw stars, then left her to moan while he fed the other babies formula from a bottle.
The transition hit her like a car crash. One minute she was writhing through back labor, the next minute her entire body seized and she felt the baby drop. She roared a real, guttural, non-human roar and Cole came running.
“Finally,” he said, strapping on a fresh pair of gloves.
He had her lie flat on her back. Not semi-reclined anymore. Flat. The stirrups forced her knees toward her ears. Her tailbone, already bruised from hours of posterior pressure, ground into the leather. Cole put one hand on her pubic bone and told her to push.
She pushed. The baby’s head moved a millimeter. Her perineum burned like she’d sat on a hot coil.
“Don’t tear,” Cole reminded her. “I want you intact.”
She hated him so much that for a moment the hatred eclipsed the pain. She pushed again, and the head descended another millimeter. Jenna watched from her chair, her own baby sleeping on her chest. Marisa was staring at the floor. Kayla had her eyes closed.
The ring of fire was not a ring. It was a crown of thorns. Addie felt her skin stretch in ways skin was never meant to stretch. Cole had a mirror now, held at an angle so she could watch her own vulva distort around the widest part of the skull. The baby was still posterior, which meant the hardest part the forehead was coming first instead of the crown. Her pelvis felt like it was being unzipped from the inside.
“Slowly,” Cole breathed, almost reverently. “So slowly.”
She pushed for ninety minutes. Ninety minutes of burning, of screaming, of vomiting again, of begging for someone to knock her unconscious. Cole did nothing but wait and watch and occasionally apply warm compresses that did absolutely nothing. Her clitoris throbbed with referred pain. Her rectum felt like it was splitting. She was certain she was dying.
Then, with a push that tore a scream out of her she didn’t recognize as her own voice, the head passed the crown. The stretch was biblical. Cole caught the head in his palms and held it there, letting her perineum slowly, painfully, agonizingly accommodate the full circumference. He counted to thirty under his breath.
“Good,” he said. “No tears. Now the shoulders.”
One more push. The anterior shoulder lodged behind her pubic bone. Another push. Nothing. Cole reached inside, his whole hand, and rotated the baby’s torso like turning a key in a lock. Addie felt her organs shift. She pushed one final time, and the baby slid out in a gush of fluid and blood.
Her son. Posterior, sunny-side up, nine pounds even. He had a cone-shaped head and a bruise on his forehead the size of a plum. He did not cry at first, then cried so hard his whole body vibrated.
Cole placed him on Addie’s chest, skin to skin. The umbilical cord pulsed between them.
“See?” Cole said, patting her sweaty hair. “I told you you’d be a good mom.”
No one was unstrapped until the last placenta was delivered. That took another forty-five minutes. Addie’s came out in three pieces, and Cole had to sweep his fingers inside her to retrieve the fragments. She bit through her own lip.
When the final strap was unbuckled, no one stood up. They couldn’t. The four girls lay in their chairs like broken dolls, legs still in stirrups, newborns on their chests, bleeding into the red-lit silence.
Cole and his friends eventually carried them out, one by one, wrapped in stained sheets. They were driven home in the back of a pickup truck. No ambulances. No hospitals. No records.
Addie never reported it. Neither did the others. Cole had photos of them all vulnerable, screaming, exposed and he’d made it very clear what would happen if they talked.
She raised her son alone. Every time he cried, she remembered the stretch. Every time he slept, she remembered the red light. And every time she looked in the mirror, she saw the one thing Cole had wanted most: no scars on the outside. Just the ones buried so deep they’d never fully heal.
The soft lighting of the gallery hall draws attention to each and every contour of your exposed flesh; emphasizing the flushed patches of skin atop your shoulders, across your face and chest. Sweat glistens at your hairline, your temples, a droplet trailing along the column of your throat and following the downward curve of your craned neck. Your arms are drawn taut and bound behind you, elbows and wrists touching each other, and the sturdy chain links clink softly as you absently test the strength of the anchor point.
You stand with your legs wide apart, your plush thighs trembling slightly as the cool air of the room clashes with the heat emanating from your skin. In a bid for a little more comfort, you attempt to adjust your stance, but the spreader bar attached to both of your ankles make this an impossible task. In every sense of the word, you are well and truly bound, and with the choice of movement having been stripped from you, there is only one thing left for you to focus on.
One thing left for everyone to see.
With your head bowed it is difficult for you to tell whenever someone approaches you, but they make their presence known well enough; after all, you are an interactive piece. Hands roam over your sweat-slickened flesh, some tracing the line of your backbone, while others follow the curve of your heavy belly, cradling the hanging swell as if they are the one responsible for it. Voices surround you, some murmuring amongst themselves as they observe from afar, some rumbling close to you as they praise and admire your artfully bound and swollen form. There are coos of awe when they watch and feel your taut belly tense with contractions, coupled with dark chuckles of arousal as disembodied fingers trace between your legs, collecting and spreading the slickness they find there.
It is only when your water breaks with a thick gush that the hands remove themselves from you, your admirers stepping back and taking their place amongst the crowd that has gathered around you. The rules are clear from this point; they cannot touch, and they cannot help. You can’t see your audience in your current position, but you can feel their eyes roaming over you; watching as more amniotic fluid trickles freely from between your spread legs, syrupy droplets spattering onto the floor and accumulating in a messy puddle beneath you. Again your legs tremble as you cry out, another contraction rippling through your body, and your eyes squeeze shut as you brace yourself as best you can.
The restraints binding your arms shift and clink as you pitch further forward, curling in on yourself as much as you can as you bear down and give your first, true push. It feels so primal this way; your body bare and your belly swaying beneath you as you obey the whims of your instincts, pushing and panting in a way that borders on animal. Leather and metal creak as you move in what little ways you can, writhing and whimpering as each push brings you closer to the peak of your performance. Faintly you register the voices of the crowd, encouragement and objectification swirling and blurring and surrounding you entirely.
A keening cry erupts from your throat when you finally, finally feel it, the deliciously burning stretch of the head fully crowning. More fluid spurts out of you, and at this point there isn’t an inch of you that isn’t glistening with either sweat or birthing fluid. Your slick thighs tremble, your knees too, and you vaguely realize that you’re only being kept upright by your arm restraints. There isn’t time to dwell on this, though, not when you’re so close—
Your broken voice echoes throughout the exhibition hall, reverberating in a way that seems to qualify as art all on its own. With one last valiant push, you feel the shoulders ease out of you one by one, followed by the rest of the baby in a searing rush of the last of your waters. One of the gallery attendants swiftly moves forward to catch it, and the wailing of the newborn is soon eclipsed by the enraptured voices of your audience, commending both your performance and the gallery itself for hosting such an experience.
Big turn on to see a woman who doesn't want to get pregnant starting to get morning sickness and feeling her tits start to swell. Trying to use all sorts of birth control but getting pregnant anyway, squirming in frustration as she knows she's in for another 9 months of being immobile.
Sadie had never known what it was to labor. Her first birth, nearly fifteen years ago, had been a clinical event: twins, breech and transverse, scooped from her body while she lay numb behind a blue curtain. She remembered the strange tugging, the weightlessness of the babies lifted out, the antiseptic smell of the operating room. No contractions. No pain that mattered. She had been a passive vessel, and her daughters had been delivered like gifts handed through a window.
When she remarried in her mid thirties, her new husband Marcus spoke often of his family's tradition. His mother and three sisters had all given birth at home, in the same farmhouse outside Durham, surrounded by the women of their blood. They had caught each other's children, had washed the linens and brewed the raspberry leaf tea. They had roared and wept and emerged holding slippery, squalling infants. Sadie wanted that with a hunger that surprised her. She wanted to know what her body could do. She wanted to feel the fire.
The first contraction came at four in the morning, a low pull across her lower back like a fist slowly clenching. She did not wake Marcus. She lay in the dark, counting the seconds, waiting for the next one. Seven minutes later, another. She had been told that labor with a second pregnancy might be faster, but no one had accounted for the size of this child. At her thirty six week appointment, the midwife had raised her eyebrows at the fundal measurement. "You're measuring large," she had said. "Possibly a ten pounder." Sadie had laughed. She was tall, broad hipped, sturdy. She could handle a ten pound baby. She did not know then that ten pounds was a shy estimate, a gentle lie the body told itself before the storm.
By six in the morning, the contractions were four minutes apart and Sadie was on her hands and knees on the living room rug. Marcus had called the midwife, a no nonsense woman named Ruth who had attended over two hundred home births. Ruth arrived with a leather bag and a calm that felt almost clinical. She checked the baby's heart rate with a Doppler. Strong. Steady. She checked Sadie's cervix. Four centimeters. "Long way to go," Ruth said. "But you're doing fine."
The hours that followed blurred into a single, grinding agony. Sadie tried every position she had read about in her natural birth books. She squatted with her back against the couch, her thighs burning, sweat dripping from her chin. She hung from Marcus's shoulders, swaying her hips in slow circles while the contractions built and crested and receded. She lay on her side with one leg draped over a stack of pillows. But something was wrong from the beginning. The pain was not the manageable fire she had imagined. It was a crushing, splintering pressure at the base of her spine, as if the baby were trying to exit through her tailbone with a hammer.
By noon she had been laboring for eight hours. The contractions were coming two minutes apart, each one lasting a full ninety seconds. Between them, she panted and sweated and drank water from a straw that Marcus held to her lips. Ruth checked her cervix again. Seven centimeters. Seven centimeters after eight hours of active labor. Sadie wanted to scream. She did scream, a raw, ragged sound that came from somewhere deeper than her throat. She felt the baby moving inside her, a great, heavy bulk that seemed to shift and grind against her pelvis with every wave.
"I can't," she gasped. "I can't do this."
Ruth knelt in front of her, her face calm but her eyes sharp. "You can," she said. "But I need you to listen to me. I think this baby is posterior. Facing up instead of down. That's why your back is hurting so badly. And I think this baby is big. Much bigger than we expected."
Sadie felt a cold spike of fear cut through the haze of pain. Posterior. She had read about that. The hardest presentation. Longer labor. More back pain. Greater risk of tearing and intervention.
"What do I do?" she whispered.
"Get on your back," Ruth said. "I know you don't want to. I know you read that it's inefficient. But your legs are shaking. You've been on your knees for six hours. You need to rest your muscles so you can push when the time comes. Gravity isn't going to help you anymore. This baby needs to be pushed out by force."
Sadie let Marcus help her turn over. She lay flat on her back on the rug, then propped herself up on a mountain of pillows until she was semi reclined, her thighs spread wide, her feet planted on the floor. In this position, the pressure in her tailbone became a steady, screaming ache. She could feel the baby's head, impossibly large, wedged against her sacrum like a stone. Ruth examined her again. Nine centimeters. Almost there.
Two o'clock. Ten centimeters. Ruth nodded. "You're fully dilated. And you're going to have to push now. This baby is not coming out on its own."
What followed was the longest four hours of Sadie's life. She pushed with every contraction, bearing down until the veins stood out on her neck and her vision went white at the edges. Marcus held one leg, Ruth held the other. The rug beneath her was soaked with sweat and amniotic fluid and a thin smear of blood. Each push lasted ten, fifteen, twenty seconds. Between pushes, she had barely a minute to catch her breath before the next wave seized her.
An hour passed. Two hours. The baby's head appeared with each push, a small bulge at the opening of her vagina, the size of a walnut. Then a golf ball. Then a small orange. But each time she stopped pushing, it slid back inside. The burning was unlike anything she had imagined. She had heard of the ring of fire, that brief, intense stretch as the head passes through the vaginal opening. But there was nothing brief about this. It was a relentless, tearing heat that made her think her flesh was splitting open in slow motion.
"Small pushes," Ruth said. "Pant. Don't bear down. Let the skin stretch slowly."
But Sadie could not stop. Her body had taken over, bearing down with a force that felt like a seizure. She heard herself making sounds she had never made before, guttural animal noises that rose from her chest and broke into screams. Marcus pressed his forehead to hers, his face wet with tears, and she could smell his fear. Ruth's hands were between her legs, fingers slick with oil, trying to ease the perineum over the head without cutting.
Three hours of pushing. The head finally, finally emerged. The relief was instantaneous and horrifying, because the head was free and the shoulders were still inside. Sadie looked down between her legs and saw her daughter's face, purple and wizened, turned upward toward her. The baby's eyes were closed. Her mouth was a small, tight line. She did not cry. She could not cry, because her shoulders were wedged behind Sadie's pubic bone.
Ruth's face went pale. "Shoulder dystocia," she said, her voice tight. "The shoulders are stuck. Sadie, I need you to listen to me very carefully. I need you to push harder than you have ever pushed in your life. This baby is twelve pounds. Maybe thirteen. And she cannot stay where she is."
Sadie had nothing left. Her body was a vessel of pain, her abdomen bruised from the inside, her vagina stretched to the point of numbness. But something in Ruth's voice cut through the fog. Fear. The midwife was afraid. Sadie gathered the last shred of her strength, planted her feet harder against the floor, and pushed. She pushed until she thought her heart would stop. She pushed until the room dissolved into a gray haze and Marcus's voice became a distant echo. She pushed until she felt something give inside her, a deep, tearing release that sent a shockwave of agony through her pelvis.
And then, with a great, wet, gushing rush, the shoulders came free and the rest of the baby slid into Ruth's hands.
A girl. Enormous, purple, and silent for a terrible three seconds before she drew a shuddering breath and let out a cry that filled the room. Ruth placed her on Sadie's chest, and she was so heavy, so solid and warm, a loaf of a baby with dark hair and cheeks like ripe fruit. Her arms and legs were thick with rolls of fat. Her hands were the size of a small peach. The cord pulsed thick and blue between them. Sadie looked down at her daughter and wept.
The placenta came easily, a soft rush. But the damage was done. Ruth examined her gently and found second degree tears that required eighteen stitches. The perineum was swollen to three times its size, bruised a deep eggplant purple. There was a small hematoma on her labia that would take weeks to heal. Sadie could not feel the needle going in, could not feel much of anything below her waist except a profound, hollow ache. She held the baby to her breast and let Marcus press cold witch hazel pads against her, let him feed her ice chips from a spoon.
Ruth brought a portable scale. Thirteen pounds, two ounces. The baby had a head circumference in the ninety ninth percentile and shoulders as wide as a football. "I've been doing this for twenty five years," Ruth said quietly. "This is the second largest baby I've ever seen born at home. You should not have been able to do this. But you did."
Sadie looked down at the infant nursing at her breast, the tiny mouth working with fierce determination. She thought about the twins, the ones who had been lifted from her body without her having to work for them. She loved them. She would always love them. But this baby, this enormous, late arriving girl, belonged to her in a different way. Sadie had earned her. She had paid for her in sweat and blood and torn flesh, in hours of pain that had stripped her down to something raw and primal. She pressed her lips to the baby's downy head and breathed in the scent of vernix and new life.
Outside, the sun was setting over the farmhouse. Marcus was crying into the baby's blanket. And Sadie, exhausted beyond measure, split open and sewn back together, lay back against the pillows and smiled. Her body was a ruin. But she had built something in the wreckage.
Pre-story notes: Firstly, an important note. I get that the premise/setup of closing hospitals for the location of this story is somewhat topical, and genuinely, my heart goes out to anyone who finds themselves in this situation, be they a doctor or a patient. Moving on, with birth, there is a large 'mind-over-matter' mindset. If you go into labor in high spirits, it might still be difficult, but you'll at least be starting from a good point. If you go in feeling more defeated from the get go, it's only going to get worse from there. So I've put my characters though decent amounts of physical torment throughout my stories, I figured for once, I'll let labor just be labor, but play mind games.
Extra note written while this story is awaiting release: I had not seen really any amount of Friends aside from the occasional clip that shows up on reels, so imagine my surprise when at someone's house, I found, essentially, the plot of this story being played out on tv!
Extra extra note: This wound up being much longer than I intended, so I'm splitting it into two parts. But all things considered, it works out better that way.
CW/Ingredients List - Mostly emotional warfare and a difficult birth
~
Jenny Bird rubbed her belly, huffing through the latest contraction as a nurse wheeled her through the county hospital. Due to budget cuts, the hospital near her had shut down a few weeks prior to her due date, and had been forced to get a ride from a friend. The original, five minute drive replaced with a forty-five minute rush to the nearest hospital that, even though was much large than her own, preferred clinic, was far too small to be taking the sheer volume of patients from the city and surrounding towns. At least her OB was working at this one. Or was supposed to be.
"But you're sure he's not in today?" Jenny asked as the Nurse leaned forward to push the elevator button to get them up to the labor and delivery ward.
"I can check, but I think Dr. Kail called in today. But don't worry, Dr. Jay is just as good as Dr. Kail."
Jenny didn't doubt that this Dr. Jay would be just as competent, but more importantly, whoever they were, they weren't her doctor. The nurse kept on talking while Jenny worried over this.
"But the good news is right now we have an empty labor room. If you're lucky, you might not have to share before you give birth."
"Wait, what?"
"Well, we aren't really a large enough hospital to take on the patient influx we have been, and we're trying to keep up, we we've gone back to shared labor rooms. But it's all good, like I said, you get your own for now!"
"No," Jenny protested, and put her hands down to try to stop the wheelchair, and she began to claw her way out of it, "I don't… I want to go home, I can't do this… AH! OWWW!"
Just as the other contractions had been, this one felt like it ripped through her back and legs more than her belly.
Jenny, her hands now raw from trying to stop the wheelchair, writhed and tried to press where the pain was worse. By the time the contraction had ended, she found herself in a labor room that looks like it was dropped from another decade. Three beds were in a row, but could be separated by curtains. Or at least could have been. The tracks for the curtains were present, but the fabric walls themselves were gone. But the beds at least looked like they were new, or new-ish.
"Let's get you into bed then," The nurse said, and helped Jenny get out of the wheelchair. Jenny knew she had a ways to go, but the amount of pain she felt when standing up was why she had wanted the wheelchair.
"Can't I just stay here?" Jenny moaned, her breath hitching a the mere idea of getting up.
"Sorry, but we'll need the chair. We'll have you in a gown and into bed in no time, you'll see."
Jenny didn't remember much of that process, but eventually, she had a gown that exposed her back on, and she was laying, sobbing and gasping for breath on the bed.
"Alright, we have the remote here, it controls the bed, the tv and has a nurse call button. Like I said earlier, we don't have a ton of women in labor right now, so we have enough rooms for privacy, but that could change."
The nurse looked like she was about to say something else, but a beeping came from the pager at her side, and she checked it.
"Sorry, I need to dash off. I'll check in on you soon, alright?"
The nurse was gone before Jenny could say anything. Before she could ask if her doctor was even in. If an epidural was possible. That if someone else came in, if curtains could be found. While she was quiet, or at least quieter between contractions, she could hear voices out in the hallway, the voices of nurses, doctors, other women in labor, and their partners. Something she didn't have. Her boyfriend, Greg, had cheated on her with a former high school… friend wasn't the right word, and while Jenny had never been the target of it, bully was the correct term. Once Jenny had walked in to see Greg and Crystal on their be-her bed! She had been the one to sign everything for the apartment and pay for everything, she had had kicked him out. Her grieving for the death of the relationship had nearly killed her, but she had managed to pull herself together and shape up. She buried her feelings at the gym, working harder than she ever had in her life. It hadn't taken long for her notice changes. Her arms were stronger, her shoulders were more defined, her legs were so fit she could almost imagine doing that trick where one crushes a watermelon in them, and her abs were cut to a razor's perfection. At least they were. No sooner than she had started getting noticeable improvements in that area when it seemed like all of her progress on her tummy had started undoing itself. After changing her regimen, her diet and even her fluid intake without any change, at least for the better, she went to the doctor. One positive pregnancy test later, and she knew that no amount of working out would flatten her belly. At least not for a while. She had kept working out during her pregnancy, enduring all of the comments and judgement of cramming her body into tight, moisture-wicking bodysuits for at the gym, and completely changed her lifestyle around. She had hoped that getting into the best shape in her life would help make the inevitable labor and delivery easier.
So far, it hadn't been. Hours after she had been put into the room, Jenny hadn't been able to get through a single contraction without nearly crying by the end of it.
"Hi Jenny, how are you holding up?"
"Oooooooooohhh….OW! I feel like I'm dying."
"Oh no, let's look you over, ok?"
The nurse helped get Jenny back into her bed, and propped her up to check her dilation.
"Well, you're dilating nicely, looks like you're at five centimeters."
"Five? Can I get an epidural?"
The nurse pulled her hand out and stripped the glove off to throw away, "I can put in the request, but it might take a while, We only have one anesthesiologist here today, and she's tied up right now. But we'll get you numbed up as soon as we can, ok?"
"Ok," Jenny mumbled, feeling miserable, and began writhing as another contraction began ripping mercilessly into her.
"OW! HuuaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAGH! AH!"
When the contraction finally let her go, she saw that the nurse was still in the room.
"Jenny, I know I said that we'd try to keep you in your own room for as long as we could, but we're starting to get some overflow. I initially came in here to tell you that your roomie will be in here in a few minutes."
"Is there anywhere else?"
"Sorry honey, but this is the last room we can use."
"What about… there are tracks for curtains, can we get something put up as a divider?"
"I can look, but I don't think we have anything that goes in those tracks anymore."
The nurse left after a short word of encouragement and Jenny did her best to hold herself together for another few contractions.
"Oh. My. God. Jenny? Of all the rooms in this hospital…"
Jenny flinched, and turned in her bed to see the one person she didn't want to. Crystal was being helped into the other bed in the room, and the nurse left, saying something about getting swamped.
"Crystal? What the hell are you doing here?" Jenny could feel her cheeks getting flushed, and not from labor.
"I thought I'd have a baby, see where things go from there."
Jenny knew she looked like a mess, her hair was disheveled, the little makeup she'd had on when she came into the hospital was a fading dream, and her eye were running with tears from the pain, and now the stress of Crystal showing up. Crystal on the other hand looked like a goddess of labor. Her hair was immaculate, her full face of makeup was flawless and even her nails were boasting a polished sheen as if she had just come from a spa and salon day and got interrupted by having a baby.
"Is it Greg's?" Crystal's voice came from across the room.
"Shut up," Jenny moaned as she worked her way through another contraction, "OW owowowowowowowwwwwwWWWWW!"
Crystal sighed and adjusted herself in her bed, rubbing her belly, "If it is Greg's, don't expect him to have to take on any responsibilities for it. He's mine, and I won't have you getting involved."
'The feeling is mutual,' Jenny thought to herself, but winced and held a hand to her own belly.
She hadn't been able to stay in her bed. Laying back or on her side felt like hot irons were being pressed into her spine. Standing was tiring, but at least it offered some respite from the abuse her own uterus was putting her through. After a handful of contractions, Jenny began wondering why she hadn't heard so much as a peep from Crystal. At least nothing to indicate she was having contractions. She didn't like how much space Crystal was taking in her head, and tried to ignore it, but she couldn't help but discreetly watch for a moment. There! the monitor she was hooked up to was indicating she was having a contraction, but… As Jenny began to have a contraction of her own, the overwrought muscles in her belly rippling with pain and tension, she couldn't believe it. Crystal had merely closed her eyes, shifted slightly and was lightly moaning, a smile on her face. It was almost as if…
"Ahhhhhhh…. Oh my god…" Crystal moaned, opening her eyes and looking at Jenny with something like fake remorse, "I'm sorry, I can't help that. Labor just feels so good, doesn't it?"
Before Jenny could even think about responding, she was taken by yet another contraction.
It wasn't fair. Jenny was suffering, unable to even sit from the wretched throbbing and tearing in her back, one hand pressed there for support and the other under her massive stretchmark covered belly. She knew that negative thoughts were more than just unhelpful during labor, but she couldn't help but feel jealous at comparing her massive stretched out belly to Crystal's neat, cute, almost picturesque bump.
"Hooooooooooo, Oh my goooooooddddd," Jenny moaned, her lips pressing together after and humming her way through the contraction, "HmmmmmmmmmmMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMmmmmmmmmmm….."
As she did, she became aware of a sound from the other side of the room. her head snapped up and she could see Crystal's lips pressed together, making a humming noise of her own. At first, Jenny felt a surge of vindictive satisfaction, thinking that Crystal was starting to get a taste of what labor was REALLY like. But as she had another, and yet another contraction that she hummed through, with Crystal following suit, Jenny began to realize that Crystal wasn't doing it to cope at all. It was a small look that Crystal gave her, a sly smile that barely formed before it vanished, but Jenny saw it, and knew. Crystal was mocking her.
"What-Augh!….. What are you doing?" Jenny bit out after a contraction fitfully died away.
"Nothing," Crystal said with mock sweetness, "Just trying to have my baby. You're being awfully loud."
Before Jenny could say anything, her nurse came in, having clearly heard only the last bit, "Well, some women have more difficult labors than others. How are you holding up Jenny?"
Jenny glared at Crystal, but decided not to bring it up, "Not great… can I get the epidural? My back is killing me!"
The nurse nodded, helping Jenny into bed so she could check her, "She's out of the surgery she was in, and is making rounds right now. I can see if she can swing by this way. Does it feel worse if you're in bed? Like the only way you can get comfortable is when you're standing up and leaning over?"
"Yeah…" Jenny whined, feeling her belly tighten up again as another contraction built up.
"Yeah, that sounds like textbook back labor. I'll get you up to the top of the list. But good news, you're at six centimeters! It shouldn't be long now."
The nurse left, leaving Jenny alone with Crystal again.
"So, getting the epidural? Can't handle it naturally?"
"Shut uuuuppp…" Jenny moaned as the contraction peaked, taking her breath away again.
It took another few contractions with Crystal mocking her during every single one before the anesthesiologist came through.
"Hello there," The anesthesiologist said, bringing his cart to a stop, "Let's get you numbed up, ok? Stop that back labor."
"Ok," Jenny mumbled, feeling defeated.
She knew that it wasn't rational, but somehow, knowing that Crystal was in the same room, doing the same thing, yet not getting an epidural made her feel weak, and like a quitter. Getting the epidural was a nightmare. All she wanted to do through the three contractions while she was getting it was to move, to rock and to pace, but she had to sit on the edge of the bed, curled over and around her belly to let the anesthesiologist get at her with the needle. But after, she could feel it working right away.
"Thank you…" Jenny moaned as the nurse helped her lay back into bed. She knew that she couldn't pace anymore with the epidural in, and now she was tethered with plethora of I.V. lines and monitors. But she knew that it wouldn't matter, cause now she could relax through them. She could feel her legs getting heavy, warm and somehow cold all at the same time, and soon, she couldn't move them at all.
"Ok… that's better," She breathed to herself.
The next contraction took her off guard.
"WhoaUUUUUGGHHHH! OWWWWWWwowowowowowowwwWWWWWW. Holy FUCK!" Jenny howled as she mashed down on the epidural button and tried to writhe away from the pain.
The blissful feeling in her legs kept her from moving too much, but Jenny managed to sit more upright as she dug her hands into her back and belly as the contraction rolled around her torso, gripping and biting her back and belly with a fury. When it was done, Jenny collapsed back on her pillow, panting.
"Epidural didn't take?" Crystal asked pointedly from her side of the room, "That's what happens when you try to not do it naturally. Oh! OW! Owowowow fuck!"
Jenny could feel tears brimming in her eyes as Crystal mocked her own desperate cries.
"It's fine!" Jenny snapped, barely able to see through her tears of pain and growing frustration, "It just needs more time to kick in."
"Whatever. Just keep it down. You're making it difficult for me to focus."
Jenny snarled silently, and settled back in, willing the numb sensation to move up. To leave her legs and settle into her belly. Her back. She just had to wait… just had to wait… just had to-
"Auuuugh! OWWWWWWw owowowowowohmygOOOOOOOOOOOOD!" Jenny screamed again through another contraction that was horrifically devoid of any sort of relief.
The epidural wasn't helping, and she couldn't even get out of bed to help.
"Oh my god, can you stop being so dramatic?" Crystal asked from the other side of the room.
"SHUT UP!" Jenny sobbed, arching her back and shuddering as she tried to get through the contraction.
This was a nightmare. Little did Jenny know though, it was about to get worse. The first came when Crystal's nurse came in and she overheard Crystal's question.
"Is it possible to get moved to another room? I don't want to be rude, but she's making it hard to concentrate on my own labor."
"I'm sorry," The nurse said, "But our rooms are all full right now. And unfortunately, unless we're moving you into the delivery room, we're not allowed to move patients around, it's a liability thing."
Jenny didn't know if Crystal genuinely wanted to move, or was just making herself a victim in all of this, but the end result was the same. Jenny was stuck here until she got to 10 centimeters and was ready to push. The second thing that made it all worse was who came in next.
"How's my girl?" Greg asked as he came in and gave Crystal a hug.
"I'm doing just fine honey," Crystal said, hugging Greg right back, "I think the classes are paying off, I keep having orgasms while I go!"
"Nice," Greg said, giving her another squeeze.
"And you'll never guess who my roomie is?"
"You have to share a room?"
"Yes, but look!" Crystal said, the sickly cheerful attitude clearly hiding a malicious enjoyment of Jenny's suffering.
"Holy crap, Jenny?" Greg said, looking genuinely startled to see her, "You're here? In labor?"
Jenny didn't respond, instead looking away, feeling fresh tears she didn't know she had left run down her face, as well as feeling another contraction building.
"OoooooooHHHHH MY GOD! OWOWOWOWOWOW…."
As she struggled to pull fresh air into her lungs, she could hear Crystal speaking with fake concern to Greg, "She opted for an epidural, but it failed, and now she has to deal with back labor without being able to move anymore. Isn't that awful?"
"Geez, that sounds like it sucks," Greg agreed.
At least for his part, Greg sounded like he actually meant it, if only a little.
"How are you doing Jenny?" The nurse asked when she came back in.
"I wanna die…" Jenny moaned as she tried to writhe through the contraction, only to be hampered by the epidural's effects, "Why isn't it working?"
"Have you pushed the button?" The nurse asked, checking everything that she could.
"It isn't workinggggg," Jenny whined, even though she did her best to keep the pleading tones from her voice.
"It might not be set up properly," The nurse said, "Let me check you dilation and we'll see if we have time to get it fixed, ok?"
"Ok," Jenny mumbled, miserable.
She had another two contractions back to back before the nurse pulled her gloves on to check. Jenny tried to hold still for the check, but with as much as she was going through, she wouldn't help but pathetically trying to roll away, her numb legs still completely useless.
"You're at a solid… I'd say eight? But it feels stretchy, so I'd actually call that nine. I don't think we have time to get that epidural fixed sweetie. But I'll let the doctor know, and we should have you pushing soon."
The nurse left, and Jenny broke down.
Her face was buried in her hands as she sobbed. It was so unfair! Everything was going wrong! She couldn't labor the way she wanted to because of the back pain, she couldn't get pain relief that worked, and worst of all-
"See, that's why I wouldn't get the epidural. It would be so crushing for it to not work if I gave up and got it."
"SHUT UP!" Jenny screamed, the sudden jolt her body gave for the effort trigging another tsunami of a contraction.
She'd never got why people called contractions waves, but now she did. She felt like she was drowning in contractions, each one squeezing her, ripping the air from her, and just when she thought she could breath, another one came crashing over her, starting the process all over again.
"Not that you'd need it baby," Greg said in a sickly sweet voice to Crystal, "You're so strong."
Mid contraction, all Jenny could do was struggle not to cry, the hitching motion making the pain unbearable.
But despite her efforts, each time she sobbed, she was becoming aware of a new sensation building, one that filled her with dread. Deep in her hips, she could feel pressure. It was almost time. Jenny could almost hear her hips creaking as something massive began making it's way down.
"Whoa, noooo," She groaned, trying to open her legs up, but only succeeding in making them twitch limply.
Using her arms, Jenny managed to get herself positioned better, and struggled through the next contraction. Both her efforts to move and the contraction only made the pressure worse, a feeling that told her that not only did the epidural not help her aching belly, it also wouldn't dull a single sensation while pushing. Pushing! She had to push it out soon!
"I change my mind, I wanna c-section!" Jenny began pleading to no one at first, but then to the doctor as he came in.
"Only if you need one," He said, pulling gloves on, "We don't really have the resources to do voluntary cesareans at the moment…"
"I can't! The pressure is so bad, AIIIEE!" Jenny yelped as the doctor went in and checked her without so much as asking.
"Yeah, I'd say that you're at a nine for sure… No, I'd say nine and a half. Let's get her into delivery."
"What? Right now?" Jenny panicked, her breathing coming fast and then strangling off as she had another contraction.
"Yes ma'am, between the pressure and your dilation, you're ready to push."
The nurse had gone over to the phone in the room, and was speaking softly, "Can we get a delivery room ready for Ms. Jenny Bird? We'll be right over."
As the Doctor and Nurses swarmed, getting Jenny's bed ready to roll, Crystal made a soft sound of surprise, and she pulled her blankets down.
"Oh my god, is that my water? I think my water broke!"
Jenny was too preoccupied to care, but the last thing she heard from the labor suite was the nurse calling for Crystal's doctor, "I think she's just about fully dilated."
The hallway Jenny was wheeled down was both the longest and the shortest Jenny had ever experienced. On one hand, she knew that getting to the delivery suite meant that her labor would end and the pain would stop, and that made the journey seem to take forever. On the other hand, giving birth meant that her first true step into raising her baby would begin, and the dread that filled her with made the trip seem all too short.
"Oh my god, I think I want to push!" She groaned as she felt another contraction, the last one she would have outside of the delivery suite.
"Don't push yet," The doctor said, "I gotta help you that last little bit so your don't hurt yourself. Just pant until we get there, ok?"
"But I want to push!" Jenny wailed as the bed was wheeled into the delivery suite.
At least these were private. Jenny didn't know how she would have pushed her baby out if she'd had to share this space with Crystal and Greg.
"Ok Jenny, you ready to have this baby?"
Jenny couldn't answer as the next contraction had started, "Hnnnnnggggggg!"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Don't push yet," The doctor said as the overhead light was turned on and aimed at Jenny vagina, now exposed with her sheets ripped away and her gown hiked up above her belly.
"I… I can't stop!"
"You need to wait until I can help you, just breathe!"
Jenny began hyperventilating. The pressure felt like someone was trying to rip her pelvis apart. All she wanted to do was find a comfortable position and push with everything she had. Not being able to move very well, she would have settled for pushing, but even that option was being denied to her.
"Please, please hurry!" She cried as the contraction faded, only to ramp back up almost as soon as it had faded, "NooooOOOOOOOOONNNNNNNNGGGHHH! AUGH! PLEASE HURRY!"
"Ok Jenny," The doctor said, "I'm going to help move that last bit of cervix out of the way and then we can get this show rolling!"
Before Jenny could ask what meant, she felt the doctor's hand going deep inside her. She screamed, trying with all her might to buck her hips to get the hand out.
All she wanted to do was push something out, and now something was trying to go in? But the worst was yet to come. With her next contraction, she knew she couldn't hold back from pushing any more, and pushed with all her might, only to feel a sharp jab at her cervix, and a sensation of hard pinching inside.
"OOOOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW! OW, OW, OW! STOP IT!"
"You need to push Jenny," The doctor said between her legs, "Push and I can stop."
"I am pushing!" she shrieked, but the doctor shook his head.
"You're wasting all your energy when you scream, take a deep breath, hold it and push!"
Jenny did her best to follow his instructions, but the pressure behind her eyes and in her cheeks grew unbearable. She was faintly aware of the nurses holding her legs back counting down from ten, and she thought she made it farther than seven, but got lectured again when she fell back, panting and gasping for air.
"Jenny, you need to buckle down and push. If you only push for like, three seconds, you're never going to have this baby."
Jenny started crying at the seemingly harsh words, and she heard one of the nurses talking to her.
"When you hold your breath, hold it in your chest and belly, not your cheeks. It'll help, ok?"
Jenny nodded, and began whimpering as she felt another contraction. Taking a deep breath, she tried doing what she'd been told, and to her amazement, this push didn't hurt her head as much. But it did hurt her vagina more, and she felt the doctor dig harder into her cervix as she did. She wanted to stop, but found that she couldn't her body was pushing on it's own, a frantic, unyielding drive that took her breath away. Just as she felt her vision swimming, she felt something inside lurch and she gasped, pulling in a huge lungful of air as she felt the baby jolt down.
"That's the cervix gone Jenny," The doctor said, pulling his hand out, "Let's have a baby!"
Jenny was crying too much to answer, her whole body shaking with her sobs. She watched the doctor and a pair of nurses going through items on a metal tray that all terrified her. Scissors, scalpels, clamps, and more items she didn't recognize. But after all too short of a rest period, she felt another contraction and tried to squirm into a more comfortable position, the dead weight of her legs making the task difficult.
"Oh, here we go again," a nurse said, and helped pull her legs back.
Jenny hooked her hands behind her knees and flinched as she felt the doctor's fingers press into her vagina.
"No, don't touch me," She whimpered, her voice nearly lost with how tired and breathless she was, but couldn't repeat herself as she was fully taken in by the contraction.
"That's it Jenny, push push push push puuuush!"
"Oooooohhhhh… HaaaaaAAAAAAARRRRGH! OW! AAAAAHHH!"
It felt like as she pushed, something was trying to push the baby back up, or at least stop it. Jenny gave everything she had, and still, at the end of the contraction, the pressure barely felt lower than it had before.
"Why isn't it coming," She moaned, letting her arms flop down.
"It's just because baby is posterior," The nurse next to her said, "It's just going to be a bit more work to get them here, but you got this!"
Jenny didn't feel like she had this, but another contraction took her focus before she could do anything about it.
"Hoo…hooo… HooooUUUUAAAAARRRGH!"
"Good push Jenny, good job!" The nurse reassured Jenny after what seemed like an eternity.
Jenny was no longer capable of verbally responding between contractions, instead just weeping bitterly between pushes. Looking at the clock on the wall, Jenny figured she had been pushing for roughly an hour, and didn't feel like she was making any progress. Each contraction kept building pressure, and if she could, Jenny would have been writhing to try to make it stop. She wanted to change position, hands and knees, squatting, anything, but her numb legs wouldn't cooperate, so she had to stay in place. The best she could do was wiggle back further into the bed, only to get pulled back down by the nurses each time.
"I think we should try the vacuum," The doctor said quietly to the nurse who was helping him between Jenny's legs.
Jenny could barely pay attention, and hardly noticed as the nurse began setting up on the bits of equipment on the metal tray, a pump attached to a cup with some tubes.
"Jenny, I know you said you didn't want a c-section, but your baby isn't making any progress. I want you to give everything you have on this next push, and we'll see how things are sitting, ok?"
Jenny nodded miserably, and braced herself for the next push.
"HooooooOOOOAAAAAARRRRGGGHHH….. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUGHH!"
As much as she tried, Jenny couldn't keep quiet, no matter how many times the nurses and doctor told her that screaming wasted energy. But given how long she had been pushing, Jenny didn't think that the occasional screaming was doing much overall. The doctor grimaced and shook his head.
"Jenny, I'd like to try a vacuum pump. It's very simple, I just put this cup on the baby's head, and I'll help guide it down. I think once we get it started, it should come out much easier. What do you think."
"Fine, yes, please, yes," Jenny sobbed, to broken to care what happened so long as the baby came out.
It didn't take long for her to regret that mindset.
The doctor started by inserting the cup. She could feel every curve and feature of the instrument as the doctor slowly pushed it and his hand inside her vagina.
"Oh gooooddd!" She moaned, trying to squirm back in the bed and away from the feeling.
"Jenny, I need you to hold still for me," The doctor said, and nodded at one of the nurses.
The nurse came and helped hold Jenny steady while the cup was pushed in until it was on the baby's head. Once it was in, the doctor began pumping on the handle, and Jenny groaned. She could feel the cup sucking further in and flattening, and she tried to move again, only to be guided back to the edge of the bed.
"Ok, now Jenny, next contraction, I want you to give it all you got. When I start pulling, we're gonna feel some progress, but you gotta keep pushing through whatever you fell, or it's gonna hurt the baby. Can you do that?"
Jenny nodded, unable to speak, her chest tight from fear. Fear of things going wrong, fear of what was about to come, and fear that it would never be over. Her belly hurt each time she sobbed, but she couldn't stop. The only thing that could make her stop were the endless contractions, which didn't leave her enough breath or energy to cry.
The next contraction came well before Jenny was ready. Her sobbing halting as she felt every one of her muscles clamping down, Jenny arched her back and began to push. Then the doctor pulled on the vacuum. Her eyes shot open and she let out her breath in an explosive scream, her back arching against the sudden intense pressure that built up and began to drive down into the deepest parts of her hips.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGGGGGGGHHHHHHH! OH MY GOD! OW, STOP IT!"
But no matter what she screamed, the doctor didn't stop. And his warning about her not pushing now could hurt the baby, she sucked in a deep breath and pushed into the building pressure. She pushed and pushed as hard as she could, but no matter how much effort she put into pushing, the baby didn't seem to be descending any faster than what the doctor pulled. A part of her began to wonder if she could have delivered the baby without assistance at all, or if she was too weak to do so. But she kept pushing as hard as she could, her teeth gritted so hard her jaw began cramping. The contraction began to let up, and Jenny let out her breath, shuddering and panting, but still the doctor didn't stop pulling. Panicked, Jenny rallied herself and began to push again, the sensation feeling far weaker without the contraction, and she wiggled her hips trying to help the pressure move faster.
"Need… to… stop…" Jenny grit out after another minute of this.
The doctor blinked and looked at the monitor in surprise, "Whoops, kept that one going a little long there. Ok, let's have a look and see…"
He took one of monitors strapped to Jenny's belly and began probing the bottom of her belly and moving down.
"There we are, that's some good progress. Tell you what, I think on the next contraction, we might get the head out. You ready to have your baby?"
Jenny nodded, and began groaning as the next contraction began to build.
"Ok, let's go," The doctor said, and began pulling again.
"AAAAAAAAUUUUUUURRRRRRGGGGH! OW!"
"Try to keep that inside," The nurse told Jenny.
"YOU TRY!" Jenny howled, and bore down again.
Then she felt it. Her lips began pulling apart and stretching, the feeling so alike the sensation in her birth canal she could barely tell the difference. But it quickly grew worse, as if instead of a vacuum tube, the doctor had shoved a hot brand into her vagina.
"OH MY GOD!" Jenny screamed as she felt the head stretching her wider and wider.
And with an audible pop and a jerk that send shocks of pain through Jenny's entire body, the cup came off of the head.
"There we go," The doctor said, and stuck a finger in, running it around the edge of Jenny's lips, making her shudder with the overstimulation of her most sensitive area, "Told you we'd see the head. Now if you still have the contraction, give us a nice big push."
"It's… It's gone," Jenny moaned, panting, her mind buzzing from the pain of the full crown in her hips.
"Ok, let's give you time to stretch then."
The next contraction seemed to both take forever and come all too soon. Jenny felt her belly starting to seize up and she shifted uncomfortably.
"Oh godddddddd," She groaned, deep and low as she gathered everything she had left and pushed as hard as she could.
As she pushed, she began making a whining noise in the back of her throat as she felt the burning growing, getting more and more intense. She could feel her heartbeat pulsing in the ring of fire, each pulse making the sensation burn hotter and hotter… Until with a sudden release, she felt the burning vanish! Not entirely, but it dropped to a much lower point so quickly, she fell back and just panted and groaned in relief.
"And that's a head," The doctor said, but Jenny could barely pay attention.
The head had barely come out before the baby began turning and Jenny made a gagging noise. She almost felt sick at the slick sensation of the mass of the baby roiling inside of her, repositioning itself for the final push. And with a final surge of effort and pressure, Jenny pushed one last time and felt the body tumbling it's way out of her.
"And we have a baby!" The nurse who had dragged Jenny back into position over and over again shouted as the baby began crying.
The cord was cut and the baby was taken to get examined right away. On one level, Jenny hated that. She had read about the benefits of immediate skin to skin, but she was so worn and so mentally disconnected from everything that she didn't think she could have safely held the baby at first. To her, it was still, 'the baby' not 'my baby.' But after a few seconds, it was brought back to her and she felt her heart swelling, and her mind sharpening into clear focus.
"Here's your baby," The doctor said, laying the bundle on Jenny's chest.
Despite her initial mind fog, Jenny bonded quickly, crying and smiling at her little girl.
"Only five and a half pounds?" Jenny asked, disbelieving.
"Sometimes their position can make the descent a little difficult," The doctor said, "But that is awfully small…"
Jenny felt another contraction and groaned, shifting her hips. The epidural was starting to wear off a bit, and she had some movement back, but everything still felt heavy and sluggish.
"Ah, that will by the placenta," The doctor said, and grabbed one of the steel trays, ready to catch the afterbirth.
Jenny groaned and strained, feeling her belly ripple and seize again.
"Just push like you did for your baby," The nurse said, "And it should come right out."
"She didn't come right out," Jenny murmured before feeling something solid press into her hips.
She groaned as she felt an all too familiar pressure driving down.
"Oh god, I think there's another baby," She groaned, twisting as far as she could while still holding her daughter.
"No, that's just the placenta," The nurse said, but the doctor cleared his throat.
"Uh, can I get a monitor in here, that felt… pretty solid."
Blinking, the nurse grabbed the fetal monitor and pressed it to Jenny's partially deflated belly. And everyone fell silent as another heartbeat began pulsing over the speakers.
"Did you know you were having twins?" The doctor asked, his eyes wide.
Jenny shook her head, and began groaning as she felt another contraction building.
"Page the station, get a second set of care gear here," The doctor said, and turned back to Jenny," Why don't you let the nurse take her for a bit, this is going to be a pretty intense feeling down here."
As soon as Jenny handed her baby off to one of the nurses, the doctor put his fingers in her. And he didn't stop there. Jenny gagged and writhed, feeling the doctor's whole hand and wrist feeding slowly inside of her.
"Oh my GOD! What are you DOING?" Jenny screamed.
"I need to see what position baby is in," The doctor said, pulling his hand out, "But it feels like it's head down, so I think we're good to go if you wanna do it vaginally?"
Before Jenny could answer, another contraction drove into her, and she curled forward, gripping the rails of the bed and pushing as hard as she could.
"Whoa, I guess that's a yes. Ok yes, Jenny, push, push, push, push, push, push, puuuush."
Jenny felt her thighs quivering as she pushed even harder, the head of the second baby stretching her birth canal all over again. If anything, it felt bigger than the first. But it was coming faster.
"OH GOD! MAKE IT STOP!" Jenny screamed as she felt her lips stretching open into the ring of fire once again.
"Keep going Jenny, push, push, push…"
Jenny didn't have a choice but to keep pushing. And she knew that if the doctor said 'push' one more time, she would try to kick him in the head. She knew she had to push, she didn't need him to remind her to do that.
"You are so close Jenny, you gotta push, push, puuuush…
"I know I need to push! Fuck!" Jenny howled as she bore down. She tried to kick the doctor, but only barely managed to make her leg spasm, half jumping out of the stirrup and landing flat. The nurse grabbed it and shoved it back.
"OWWWW! OW OW OW, STOP IT!" Jenny shrieked, before she felt her belly seize again and she was unable to do anything but push as hard as she could.
"And there we go!" The doctor shouted as the baby went from a full crown to spilling out in the span of that single last push.
A few hours later, in her recovery room, Jenny asked about Crystal, and if it would be possible for them to be put in separate rooms.
"I'll trade with anyone," Jenny begged, "Please, I can't be in the same room as that woman."
"Well, let me see… Ah, Crystal. Poor thing, she's still in delivery. But either way, because you have twins, you will be in your own recovery room. It's too small for more than one patient, but too big enough for both cradles."
The nurse turned a bit pale and looked at Jenny, "Uh, maybe don't tell anyone I gave you an update on another patient."
Jenny smiled, "Not a word. Thank you."
Jenny managed to feel somewhat relaxed as she realized she was alone in her room with her babies, and wouldn't have to worry about a strange patient, much less someone she couldn't even bear to look at, being assigned to join her. Well, she remained relaxed until one of the babies started whimpering for his first feeding. Jenny laid back, wondering what the nurse meant by 'poor thing.' What could possibly be going on that warranted that comment?
Submission note: this can be tagged fpreg, nbpreg, and tmpreg! You can credit me.
---
You are special. You are the brilliant, shining star of his class.
Sure, maybe he fucks some of the other students, too. Maybe you’re far from the only person who’s been on your knees and gagging on his cock. Maybe his desk has seen all kinds of young, vigorous minds bent over his desk and reduced to brainless, cock-hungry sluts.
But you’re special. You’re absolutely certain of it. After all, you’re the one carrying his child.
If you weren’t special, then why is no one else pregnant? Why are you the one who gets to call him by his actual name instead of just Professor Hale? Why does he look at you like that during department events and guest lectures? He’s so willing to risk everything for you. After all, when it was first obvious to everyone that you were expecting, he had followed you out of the ballroom, pulled you into a janitor’s closet, and gripped your belly as you rode him. It’s already hot enough to have his baby inside of you; it’s even hotter when his cum is rolling down your leg while you talk with the department head about your upcoming senior thesis.
His child knows him. They roll inside of you when he speaks during lectures. The sensation is alien and yet the pure knowledge that it’s his baby leaves you wet and wanting after each class.
And he knows it. The bigger you get, the more obsessed he becomes. Now, instead of fucking other students when you’re not around, he invites you to watch. His eyes stay on you, locked on the way your hand rubs your bare belly, so round and big because of him, and he fucks the other student until he nearly climaxes. But his cum is for you. He always pulls out and goes to you instead, now forcing the other student to watch as he sucks on your swollen areolas and drives his cock into your oversensitive cervix until you’re screaming and dripping with him.
The school year finishes; summer break begins. When your senior year begins, you’re nearly ready to burst. Everybody’s shocked that you even came back to school, but you insisted. You have to be with him, your favorite professor, the man you’re obsessed with, the father of your child. And he needs to be with you. You’re his, his darling broodmare.
When your labor begins, you’re obligated to notify him. He demands you come to his office later that evening. By that point, you’ve been laboring for hours. Your contractions are quite uncomfortable, but you’re not going to disobey him.
“Ah,” he greets when he opens his door for you. “I have a present for you.”
He leads you inside. There’s another student in his office -- a junior, someone you’ve admittedly felt a bit jealous of. He looks at her too much. Gets too close when he speaks to her.
But he doesn’t acknowledge her for now. Rather, he guides you to a nearby chair. Before you sit, he strips away your clothes until you’re naked from the waist down. Then he seats you, grabs some silk ties, and ties your wrists behind your back and your ankles to the legs of the chair. You can’t move; you just have to sit there, pussy bared wide to the other student, moaning as a contraction wracks through you.
Professor Hale murmurs something to the other student -- something you can’t catch -- before he turns back to you. “Watch,” he tells you simply. “If you need something, you will beg for it.”
Before you even have the chance to say anything, he turns back to the other student and bends her over the desk. He leans forward, pressing slow, hot kisses down her back. “Look at her,” he says out loud. “You were even more beautiful.” His fingers ghost up her thighs; his fingertips gently prod her entrance. “You moaned so prettily for me. Begged me to knock you up. Remember?”
You moan once more, partly from the pain of the contractions, partly from how undeniably aroused you are at the memory.
“Pathetic,” he continues as he slips a finger inside of her. The other student whimpers; he starts to slowly thrust into her. “But so gorgeous.” Professor Hale lifts his face and meets your gaze. “I had to give you what you begged for. How does it feel now?”
You let out a loud whine, squeezing your eyes shut as pain radiates through your core. “Adrian,” you choke out, “this -- oh, fuck, this really hurts.”
“Good,” he says. He slips a second finger inside of the other student, drawing an obscene cry from her. “Your suffering will be rewarded. Your devotion will be similarly cherished.”
He suddenly removes his hand. The student lets out a displeased noise, but Professor Hale ignores her. Instead, he unbuttons his slacks and pulls both them and his boxers down until his cock is exposed. It’s already rigid and flushed; he pumps a hand down it, smearing the other student’s fluids down his length.
“Do you want to see what it looked like when I got you pregnant?” he murmurs. “While your body prepares to give me what I put inside of you?”
Your hips buck at that. “Adrian.” You squeeze your eyes shut at the intense pain and building pressure. “I think I’m getting close.”
“Not yet,” he says firmly. “You can’t push until I tell you to.”
He turns back to the other student now, rubbing the head of his cock against her entrance. She starts to cry out again, begging for more of him. His fingers card through her hair, not so much tender as it is patronizing. “Shh,” he tells her. “I’ll satisfy you soon enough.” He leans over her again, kisses the space between her shoulder blades, and then, finally, thrusts into her. She lets out a dramatic gasp, her legs suddenly going tense as he completely buries himself in her tight cunt.
“Wonderful,” he grits out. Then he turns his head towards you. “But not as perfect as you.”
He starts fucking her, hard and deep, a faint smile on his face as you squirm and whimper from your worsening contractions.
“She’ll never have what I gave you,” he says. “You’re my greatest protege.”
Fuck, you’re utterly torn between how much pain you’re in and how fucking hot this is. Your hips roll, desperate for relief from the pressure of your baby’s head, but also so goddamn desperate for him.
“Beautiful.” His eyes are dark, locked on you. “So swollen with me. So ready to give me a child.” His thrusts intensify, punching out yelps from the other student. “And as soon as you give me this one, I’ll put another one inside of you.”
“Oh, my god,” you say -- no, sob. “Adrian, fuck -- oh, god, I need to go to the hospital--”
“No.” He slams into the other student. She’s practically screaming now. “You will stay here.”
The pain rocketing through you prevents you from saying anything more. You dissolve into whimpers and groans, straining against the ties on your wrists and ankles. Meanwhile, Professor Hale keeps fucking the other student, pulling out when she gets too close to finishing, fucking her again when her begging becomes insufferable. This keeps going until--
“I need to push.” You rock your hips forward as you moan. “Adrian, fuck, I’m going to start pushing.”
One moment, he’s behind the other student at the desk; the next, he’s suddenly next to you, untying the restraints on your ankles and wrists.
“Absolutely not.” He pushes you forward so that you’re on all fours on the floor. “You will not push until I say that you’re allowed. Understood?” He glances up at the other student. “Violet, please observe.”
Your protests are shattered by a scream as he shoves himself into you. “Adrian!” you shout as tears run down your face. Everything aches so much; your body is practically begging you to push; and yet this feels fucking incredible in a way it shouldn’t.
“Quiet,” he tells you as he starts rutting inside of you furiously. “You should be grateful for this.”
You moan as your body contracts again. God, you feel so tight around him like this. “Fuck, Adrian, I am, I am.”
He continues fucking you, hissing as he slams into you over and over. “You’re perfect,” he tells you again. “Kneeling like a dog, taking my cock when you would rather be pushing.”
You arch your back, gasping at the sensation. “Adrian, please, I need to--”
The pain is unbearable. Tears fall down your face. He keeps fucking you anyway.
“Adrian, enough!” you choke out. “Oh, fuck, please, Adrian, let me push, please.”
He clicks his tongue as he speeds up. “Not yet, sweetheart.” He grips the back of your neck. “Let your master have his fun first.”
God, you don’t know how much longer you can take this. Your body starts to contract again; then, it’s pushing on its own, drawing a loud, long cry from you as you bear down. The sensation finally causes Professor Hale to break. He seizes suddenly, groans, and his cock pumps into you over and over and over. When you lift your head, you can see the other student watching you with a hand between her legs and a glassy look in her eyes.
Fuck. You are so fucking turned on.
“Adrian, god, make me come!” you scream when he pulls out.
His palm bears down on your tailbone while his other hand finds its way to the space between your legs. “Push,” he commands as he begins to touch you.
“But I want to--”
“Push,” he repeats. “Now.”
You squeeze your eyes shut as you bear down. His cum spurts out of you and drips onto the floor.
“Keep pushing,” he says, pressing down harder between your legs. “You will give me my child.”
You obey. The way his fingers rub you roughly sends painful jolts of pleasure through you. Combined with the pushing -- oh, god, you’re so fucking close. You’re so full of him, belong completely to him.
“Does that feel good?” he murmurs into your ear. “Are you going to come while giving birth to my child?”
“Yes!” you gasp.
Professor Hale smiles as he glances up towards the other student. “You wish this were you, don’t you?” he purrs. “Spread out on my floor, laboring with my child, completely mine in every way that matters.”
The baby’s head pushes down deep into your birth canal. The stretch of it causes you to scream, but the pain bleeds into the pleasure. And then, suddenly, you’re coming, and you come so hard and beautifully that the other student is also coming from the sight of it. And Professor Hale is bent over you, letting out a pleased, airy laugh against your throat.
“Push,” he orders softly. “Give me my baby.”
Your vision goes black. You nearly fucking pass out. But you keep pushing through it until -- suddenly -- there’s a squelch. Professor Hale shifts behind you.
“A son,” he murmurs into your ear. “Well done.”
You collapse now as the baby begins to wail. Professor Hale hums as cradles the baby in his arms and snips the umbilical cord.
“Violet,” he says calmly, “you’re dismissed.”
She leaves silently. You tremble on the floor, completely exhausted and out of breath.
But then Professor Hale is leaning over you once more. He presses a kiss to your temple before murmuring, “We’ll start on a daughter now.”
421.1. A request: The Queen of a nation is about to give birth to the next heir to the throne. Naturally such an event can’t take place in her private chambers, instead she must give birth in a public space, for the court and commoners to see. Bonus points if she has to be restrained in some way.
A Crown for a Queen
A Valiantremnant original
Pre-Story notes: Oh did this prompt ever inspire me. I initially planned on doing a fun little short story, but as I went, I wound up expanding and expanding (lol) until I got to where the story is now. I might do more with this world, but who knows. Now, quick note, due to the nature of this story, it's not very dialogue heavy. I tried to break it up as best as I could, but if I put a ton of dialogue in it, the main character would mostly be talking to herself, and given the setup here, (some dehydration) that isn't really a good idea.
In Konur, tradition insisted on a public birth of every royal child. Every. One. It had started over one thousand years ago when a changeling had sought to overthrow the royal line by replacing a newborn heir. Or by supplanting the queen. The exact reasons have been lost to history. But to prevent such a thing from happening with his children, King Okdar had his wife, Queen Anya, give birth where all could see, and all could vow that the child was indeed born to them. The method passed on to their children, and their children. A proof becoming tradition, the site of Queen Anya's labors becoming a great amphitheater. And from then on, every queen, and every princess in line to become queen would give birth in the same place, bound and visible for all. For all to see that the child born was indeed born of the queen, and for all to see the strength of their queens, to see that they had the strength to be the shield of the people of Konur. When Queen Valaina's water had broken that morning, word had immediately gone out, alerting the nobles and visiting dignitaries who had travelled weeks ago for the royal birth. Valaina had married into the royal family, and while she knew of the birthing ritual, she had never seen it before, much less thought that she would be given the honor of going through it herself. The noble houses had similar traditions, but those were usually attended by close friends and family only, nothing like the affair of a royal birth. Once the word had gone out, the royal midwife had arrived, examining Valaina and letting her know that she was only about halfway dilated, and that there would be plenty of time to arrive at the amphitheater. Valaina knew that she should have gone to see it before today, but since the tragic death of her husband, King Helbrun, she had been too busy tending the affairs of state. But now as she entered the vaulted Queen's Entrance of the amphitheater, she wished she had visited at least once. She passed carved statues, each one of a woman. As she had contractions passing them, she paid them little mind, but the odd detail struck out at her as she passed. Some were carved in obsidian, most were done in marble. Some glittered with gemstones, others were plain. Some had objects in their hands, others were empty handed. "Oh gods! Ow!" She groaned, stopping by one of the statues and gripping the edge of the alcove that held it. The contraction that held her now was fierce and made her legs shake with the effort of her womb. "Come Valaina," Marne, Helbrun's aunt called, "You can't well give birth in here, can you?"
Marne was a stuff sort of woman, with very strict ideas of propriety. Ever since the deaths of Helbrun, and both of his parents, she had been appointed by the court to be Valaina's guide into the politics and traditions of the royal family. Politics that she thought she knew from her own family's proximity to the crown, but much of it was new and strange to her. Valaina's own family, the Karroks, had been mired in political scandal shortly after her own wedding to Helbrun, and since his death, Valaina could tell that she was something of a controversial figure. Commoners and nobility alike were torn on whether to side with her or against her. A civil war seemed unlikely, but political difficulty was the norm for her these days. "If... I...GAH! Have to..." Valaina panted. "Tsk tsk," None of that, come on," Marne said, coming to her side and helping her upright, making Valaina gasp in pain as she straightened. She leaned heavily on Marne was they walked to a small chamber at the end of a series of empty alcoves that awaited statues. "Now, that's fine in here, but once you go out there, you'll have to walk alone." "Alone? What?" Marne shook her head, "I suppose with everything else going on, you haven't managed to learn about this ritual, have you?" Valaina shook her head and Marne explained. "You are carrying the heir apparent to the throne, and the birth must be witnessed. You'll be stripped in here and then you'll ascend the plinth and give birth for all to see."
Giving birth for others to see wasn't unusual. She could remember the births of a few family friends, but those affairs had allowed the mothers to wear at the very least a shift to cover themselves. "What do you mean, 'stripped'?" Valaina asked, her voice rising an octave both in fear and in pain, "OW...." "Exactly what it sounds like," Marne said, positioning Valaina in front of the doors, "Now let me help you." Valaina sobbed quietly as Marne removed her robes until she was clad only in her light shift. Marne came around front and wiped the tears out of her eyes. "Now, listen. What I can tell you while we have time is this. As queen, you are the shield of the people, and they must see you endure. You can scream, you can roar, you can cry, but don't beg. Don't ask to be released until you've given birth." "What- released?" "And- you don't know?" Before Valaina could respond, she doubled over with another powerful contraction. They were practically back to back now, and she had almost no time to reset between them. A serving girl entered through a hidden door and murmured something to Marne, who nodded in return and moved to stand behind Valaina. "We're out of time. They're ready for you. Remember, if you are to remain queen after this is over, you must be the shield of the people. Do not beg." Marne lifted the shift off of Valaina, who made one pathetic attempt to hold onto it before letting it go. Marne looked her in the eye one last time. "When I've left, knock twice on the door and walk to the center of the amphitheater. They'll guide you from there." And with that, the only one left in the chamber was Valaina, scared, contracting and in pain. She knocked twice on the door after the contraction was gone, and the double doors swung outward, nearly blinding her with the sudden light.
When she could see again, the first thing she could see was a ramp leading up from the chamber she was in. As she hobbled up the ramp, having to stop for a moment to let a slightly more powerful contraction pass, she could hear what sounded like thousands of voices. With her heart in her throat, Valaina reached the top of the ramp to see the massive amphitheater filled to capacity. It was late summer, and the bright sun beat down into the stone arena with an almost angry heat. Ahead of her, Valaina could see a raised object. A marble podium of sorts. It might have once been pure white, but age and the elements had stained it. As she grew closer to it, almost drawn in by morbid curiosity, Valaina could tell that a long, streaking stain down the front had nothing to do with the weather marring it. "... Queen Valaina of house Dar!" Valaina couldn't tell what the beginning of the announcement was, but the crowd erupted into a deafening array of both cheering and jeering. Her mostly steady waddling hitched as she had another contraction, and she gasped in pain as she struggled to keep moving forward. She held one arm across her chest, hiding her bare breasts from the eyes of the crowd, the other wrapped around her belly, trying to hide her vagina, knowing now why a midwife had attended to her, waxing her clean before arriving at the amphitheater. The same midwife stood at the base of the stone monolith, which had grown startlingly near. Valaina stopped and the midwife leaned in. "How close are your contractions now?" "They barely give me time to breathe between them," Valaina admitted. The midwife nodded and gestured to a pair of ceremonial guards. They both took one of her arms and guided her to the stone's flat top. Once there, they pushed her down firmly, though not roughly. The action made her heart beat so quickly, it seemed almost painful. "Wait, what are-AUGH!"
As she broke off to deal with the contraction, the guards attached sturdy leather cuffs to her ankles, keeping them close together. Then they pushed her thighs back until the angle was almost painful, attaching thick straps to them as well, pinning her legs fast in place. Then a strap was fixed around her ribs, above her belly but below her breasts, not too tight to breathe in, but too tight to move more than an inch or so. Then, to top it all off, her wrists were strapped above her head. "Grab these," One of the guards said, guiding her hands to wooden handles fixed into the straps. Valaina didn't understand at first, but as soon as the guards stepped away, no longer supporting any of her weight, she understood. The stone was flat, but not level. It wasn't enough of a slope to be a slide, but without support, she would have been hard pressed to remain in place. As it was, the straps began to dig painfully into her chest and thighs until she flexed her arms, supporting her weight by the hand holds provided. As she struggled to find a comfortable place on the stone, she could feel slight wear in it's surface. Grooves dug into the surface, too slight to be see from a distance, but when touching it? She could feel where someone else's, another woman's shoulders had been bound here, where her feet had been braced, where her hips had sat. She had heard about parts of this birthing ritual. but until now, it hadn't seemed real.
As she struggled to move more than an inch, the midwife ascended and stood before her. "My queen. I will perform your last check." Before Valaina could respond to her words, she flinched and groaned as the old woman's hand deftly entered her birth canal. She tried to close her legs against the straps, her hips flexing and quivering as they fought against the unyielding bonds as the midwife reached her cervix and traced it. Nodding, she pulled her hand out and turned to the speaker, descending from the platform. The speaker nodded and turned to the audience of nobles and commoners alike. "The queen is now five centimeters dilated!" The crowd erupted in both cheers and groans. Valaina wondered what they were thinking. Were the cheers because she was well and truly in labor? Were the groans because she had so far left to go? She didn't know, and any thought of figuring it out vanished as she had another contraction. "AUGH! OW OW OWowowowowowOWWWWWWWWW!" Her head, the only free part of her body, thrashed, snapping from side to side, her hair fanning out and covering her face somewhat. She wanted to curl around her belly, to hold it with her hands, despite how little she knew it would do. But even though she knew it was pointless, her arms pulled against the bindings, straining to caress her contracting belly. She groaned and gasped in pain as a new sensation struck her. Not the pressure she knew was to come, but a deep stabbing ache in her pelvis, as if the stone itself were pressing against her. When the contraction was done, she puffed and blew her hair out of her face. The sun, still beating down made being trapped under a tent of her own hair stifling.
As Valaina laid back on the stone, her eyes wandered the crowd. The back, the highest seats in the amphitheater were filled with people who she took to be commoners, though at the distance they were at, it made it hard to tell. Closer in, she could see merchants knights. People of wealth and status. But closer still, in the valley between her legs she could see nobles. Lords and ladies alike, along with their honored guests. Valaina's eyes darted, with focus at first, then worry, then frenzied panic. Her mother. Her father. Where were they? House Karrok wasn't a small house, and given their seats at court, they should have been near the front. but right at the front was the prime minister, a man who Valaina despised. Even though she knew it was someone else, she couldn't help but feel that even if he hadn't been the one to orchestrate the deaths of her husband and the former king and queen, that he still stood to benefit. The only other potential heir to the throne was only a child, and if she had also died that day, he would now be ruling Konur. Her stomach roiled in discomfort from something other than a contraction. She knew she couldn't trust the man, even if he hadn't done anything wrong. Except... except that her parents should have been there. "Where... are... they?" Valaina whispered, making eye contact with the man before she broke into another full throated scream as another contraction wracked her body, "HUUUUUAAAAAAAAAGH!" The prime minister only tilted his head, his eyes flicking to a point behind her, and Valaina knew. He had ensured that her parents were sat behind her, and far away from the center. Nowhere they could be of even minimal comfort to her.
As the day drew on, comfort became a thing of the distant past. The sun rose, and with it, the temperature. What had started out as a warm morning was quickly becoming a hot midsummer day. "Oh gods..." Valaina said, her tongue feeling thick and dry in her mouth as she lolled her head to the side, seeking a tiny bit of respite from the blazing sun. If she looked down at herself, she could only see her breasts, the top of her belly and the tops of her thighs, but what she could see of herself was that her skin was turning red under the sun. She had spent most of her life sheltered, hiding her fair skin from the sun's rays, but she remembered one day as a younger woman, when her family had gone to the king's summer palace with him and she had spent too long in the sun, and what her skin had felt like then. It felt the same now, tight, hot and far too dry. Her lips cracked as she grimaced, bracing herself as best as she could for the next contraction. "AAAAUUUUUGH! OH GODS! OWWWWW!" She could see the crowd reacting to her as she writhed the few fractions of an inch that she could, some cheering as she screamed, others looking on coldly. She shifted uncomfortably, the strap around her chest digging painfully into the top of her belly. Valaina just could not find a remotely comfortable position, her spine pressed hard against the marble plinth, her hips aching from being pulled back so far, and her hands were growing numb from being suspended above her head for so long. But the worst part was the pressure that would surge every time she had a contraction. It seemed like every time she had one, and she would try to arch her back against it, it was trying to press her flat against the plinth, taking her breath with a sudden, savage strength. And it made her want to push.
She knew that it wasn't time yet. She'd never learned from a midwife properly, but she had been curious and helped when her aunt had given birth when she was nine, and remembered a few lessons. "Now, she will feel pressure and like she wants to push for quite some time, but it will pass with each contraction," The midwife had said, "That will usually mean that she isn't open enough for the baby to come." "But if it's hurting her, shouldn't she push it out?" "Oh dear, no. If she pushes too soon, it will hurt her even more, and maybe even hurt the baby. She must wait until all that pressure stays, even between the pains." On the plinth, Valaina could feel the pressure from each contraction fading away between them, and she knew it wasn't time. She squinted her eyes and looked up at the sun. It must be close to noon now. Based on the bells that had tolled just before she entered the amphitheater, she had been strapped down to the stone for nearly six hours now. What did the midwife say she was dilated? Five centimeters? How dilated was she now? "Am-" Valaina began before breaking off into a fit of dry coughing, "Am I close?" "We cannot touch you until the baby is out," The midwife said from the base of the podium, "But I would say it isn't long to go."
An hour passed. And another. And another. Valaina's skin was an angry red and her mouth was parched. The contractions were starting to slow down, and she could barely keep her eyes open anymore. "Huuuuuuuuuunnnnngggg," She groaned, the full throated screams of agony now too much effort to give voice to anymore. The crowd's mood had shifted too. Mostly everyone who was still present was talking to each other, the dull roar of conversation from around the amphitheater competing with the thudding of her heartbeat in her ears. If she had known how thirsty she would have gotten, she would have spent hours doing nothing but drinking water leading up to the ritual. "Gods, so thirsty," She panted, her tongue feeling sandy as it passed over her teeth, trying to sooth her cracked lips. Her lips were sunburned too, and moving her moth more than it took to pant caused tearing sensations that made her want to cry. She knew that if there was enough water in her body, she might have cried, not just from the sheer misery of what she was going through, but what she knew was to come. If the lips on her mouth felt this bad now with the dryness and sunburn, what would her other lips feel like when she was pushing?
The sun was starting to set when Valaina heard it. Something that always had soothed her, not matter how fiercely they would rage. And she opened her eyes to see if she had imagined the sound, or if it was real. She smiled, her lips cracking as she saw it. There it was, the billowing clouds that had produced the quiet peal of thunder in the distance. At least it would mean that she would be taken down from the plinth. While she loved a thunderstorm, she knew it was too dangerous to be out in one. But as it grew closer and the air grew mercifully cooler, no one moved to remove her restraints. What she did see were amphitheater attendants running around the stands, pulling on ropes and setting posts, erecting awnings and canvas shades to protect everyone who was watching. And she knew. She knew that the only way to get off of the plinth would be to give birth. Another clap of thunder sounded, louder this time, and Valaina didn't find any comfort in it.
The rain began about an hour after the first clap of thunder, fat drops that came in scattered bursts. Despite the stinging pains they caused Valaina's burned skin, she found relief in the chill they brought to her overheated body. And in the drops she opened her mouth to catch. She panted with her mouth open now, feeling drops fall and run into the corners of her mouth, swallowing the cool, crisp rain as it filled her mouth over and over again. She could feel water sloshing in her stomach, and groaned as her contractions, which began speeding back up as she drank, tightened her newly full belly. Now as she looked down at herself, her belly was still an angry red, but now it glistened with a wet sheen as water ran down the taut surface as it heaved and quivered with contractions. Contractions that brought the pressure back again and again, with it fading less and less each time.
"AAAAAAUUUUGH!" She screamed as another contraction clawed at her belly. She didn't know if anyone heard, as a massive peal of thunder echoed across the arena as she screamed. She wanted to move. She felt the pressure digging into her back, right where it met her pelvis, and knew that if she could just get up, even for a moment, she would give birth in minutes. Valaina wanted to ask. She was so close to asking to be let up, but she knew that as soon as she did, the crown was forfeit. Marne told her not to beg, and she wouldn't. She had to be strong. But no matter how strong she was, the contractions seemed to be stronger. Once she had been able to drink the rainwater that now ran into her eyes, and mouth when she didn't want it to, her contractions had gotten closer together than they had ever been. But that wasn't the worst of it. As the rain ran down her back, the smooth worn surface of the plinth had become so slick, she was struggling to stay in place. In the morning, her skin had stuck to it, her own weight being enough to hold her steady, but with the rain, she would slide down, the straps biting into her thighs, chest and wrists being the only things keeping her there. Her wrists cramped with how hard she held onto the handles on the wrist cuffs, but letting them go was a nightmare. She would only about an inch, but it was far enough that trying to find the handles was a nearly impossible task. And it only took a single contraction to learn that loosing her only anchor point, her only control over any of the situation was not something she could endure.
So she clung to the wooden dowels, despite the blisters forming on her hands, despite the contractions that made her want to release them and clutch at her belly, something that she couldn't do. "NooooooUUUUAAAAAAARRRRGH!" She screamed as another contraction tried to rip her apart and crush her all at once. The pressure kept vanishing, not staying like it was supposed to. She wanted to give in, to push with it, but she couldn't make herself. She couldn't force herself to push when a part of her knew it was too soon. It would hurt her. It would hurt the baby. So she panted, wanting desperately to writhe, and tried to lift her hips off of the stone, even a fraction of an inch. The strain onher muscles was making every part of her shake with effort and exhaustion, so she released the attempt, feeling her body slam the mere half inch back into place, jolting her and making her cry out again. But even that couldn't stop her from straining again and again against the restraints, trying to give herself a little bit more room. Just a little bit more...
She didn't know how many times, though how many contractions she strained and arched her body, doing everything she could from mantras to panting, from visualizing to just sheer force of will, everything she could think of doing to stop herself from pushing. But she was loosing. More than once, she caught herself giving in, tiny little pushes that made her belly swell and rise with the effort. She could barely hear anything over the patter of rain, but she could faintly hear excited murmuring in the prominent seating close to the plinth. Nobles and courtiers realizing how close she was to giving birth. If they only knew that she wasn't ready yet. "Make it stop," She begged, looking up at the sky, "Gods, make the pressure stop or let it come out!" There wasn't so much as a clap of thunder in response, only another brutal contraction that made her arch her body again. "AAAAAAAUUUUUGH!"
Eventually, she could hold back no longer. She didn't care that the pressure wasn't remaining, and some part of her didn't care how badly it could hurt her or the baby, her body had gone through enough. She had to push. When the next contraction came, she didn't arch away from it, she curled forward the tiny amount she was able to, and bore down. "HUUUUUNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGAAAAAAARRRRGH!" She bellowed out, the sound being swallowed by both the thunder of the storm and the thunder of the crowd as they all realized at once that she was fully pushing now. And she noticed something else too. Instead of fading away again, the pressure seemed to grow more intense, dropping below the spike of agony in her back and dropping between her hips, making her feel like she was sitting on a saddle. She squirmed, her body slipping on the wet marble as she tried to make the sensation more bearable, and whimpering in frustration as she found she couldn't. But the pressure wasn't fading anymore. Now she could push. She could push! "HuuuuUUUUNNNNGGGGGGGGGGGAAAAAAAAHHHH!" She screamed as she pushed with the next contraction. Her effort cut off abruptly as a sharp sting made her flinch. It had felt like a pebble had been hurled at her left breast with great speed. She looked and didn't see anything except for a small welt that grew red, even against the burn from the sun. Then she felt another sting, this one on her belly. And another on her arm. It wasn't until one hit her head that she realized. Hailstones. Small ones, only about the size of peas. More than enough to be unbearable.
"OWWWWWWWwwowowowowowowowWOWWWWWWWW HUUUAAAAAAAAGH! OH GODS!" She screamed as she pushed. The hail didn't show any signs of stopping, but at least the stones weren't growing larger as they sometimes did. She had partially expected to be released once the hail had started, but as with the rain, she was left exposed to the elements, rain and hail descending while thunder ripped the sky apart. Much like how the head in her was descending, contractions ripping her apart. One had hit quite near her eye, and she kept both of them shut now, her eyelids turning red with each bolt of lightning that shredded the sky, thunder bellowing in their wake. Between contraction, she shuddered with cold and pain as thousands of tine hailstone pelted her body. Shen she dared to open her eyes to squint at herself, she was covered in tiny welts that ranged from red to purple where she could see, her sunburned skin feeling like it was on fire, and still she pushed. She knew that as soon as the baby was out, she would be taken down, and ushered inside and away from the onslaught. bracing herself, she panted once, twice, and got ready to push once again. "HUUUU-AAAAAAAH!"
Once she was pushing, she thought it wouldn't take long for the baby to come out, but it seemed to crawl along at a leisurely pace down, every tiny movement sending zings of pain through her birth canal as it stretched around the baby. But those were nothing in comparison to the stretching she had feared. The head of the baby eventually made it down far enough that she could feel her lips parting around it. And as she feared, the sunburn that had seared every inch of her exposed to the sun felt a hundred times worse as the burned skin of her vagina began to stretch and spread around the head. It was agony, the legendary ring of fire taking on a whole new meaning as Valaina sobbed through the pain, trying to push hard enough to get the head out. But every time she stopped while waiting for the next contraction, the head began moving back in, hiding away from the chaos and noise of the world. "The... the head! Hail...' She panted, and the midwife called up, making her voice heard over the sounds of the storm. "When the head is out, I will shield it from the hail. Just get the baby out to us." Valaina nodded, her eyes still squeezed shut and she braced herself for another push, panting as she felt the contraction building. "OooooooOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAGH-"
Her efforts cut off and her head fell back as a shock of pain exploded in her calf. Her eyes snapped open and she screamed, her thigh spasming and she writhed, feeling the white hot feeling cut through her concentration. Over her own screaming, she was dimly aware of screams in the crowd, and she knew something was wrong. Time seemed to slow down as she watched a projectile dart across her belly, the head scoring a thin line over her as a crossbow bolt pinged off of the marble, leaving a small chip in the surface and bouncing off, missing her by millimeters. "SEIZE THEM!" A voice commanded, and Valaina tried to turn to look, seeing one of the assailants, crossbow in hand being cut down by men with swords, his weapon clattering the ground, along with several bolts. She heard the snapping twang of another crossbow, and heard someone shout in pain before another scream and clatter told her that another had just been cut down as well. She strained her neck, trying to look down, but the hail bouncing down on her and something new told her what she already suspected. A crossbow bolt as embedded in her calf, the hailstones hitting the shaft with the same speed as the rest of her body, making small shocks of pain radiate up her leg. All of this came to her and faded in a few heartbeats as the interrupted pushing effort seemed to aggravate the contraction, which redoubled it's efforts with savage force. Valaina rallied herself and pushed again, screaming so loudly her throat began to hurt. She had to finish now, there were assassins! She had to get the baby out so she could leave! "AAAAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH! COME ONNNNN!" She screamed, pushing so hard her head began to quiver with effort.
And with a sudden pop, Valaina let her head drop back with a sharp clack against the plinth as she felt he pressure snap back as the head came fully out, and she laid there panting as the crowd cheered wildly. She opened her eyes and looked down to see the midwife moving quickly, holding her hands out over where she assumed the head was. her belly was still too large to see anything below it, so Valaina had to hope she was protecting the head from the weather. The contraction didn't fully let up, easing for a moment, then pulsing back stronger than ever as Valaina pushed again, and felt the baby rippling and squirming as it was pushed out of her belly and into the world.
She was expecting cheering at the completion of the birth, but she still started at the sheer intensity of the crowd's expression of joy. She also didn't care bast the reflexive startle. As she heard the baby cry, she was completely taken in by the sweetness of the sound, the only other sound that mattered being the jingling of keys and chains as the straps were undone. "Oh fuck!" she yelped as she nearly slipped off and hit the ground, but the ceremonial guards caught her as she slipped, and guided her to her feet, the midwife handing her the baby, a girl. She wanted to melt, to just sink down with her baby, but the midwife held her upright. "The ritual is not complete yet. You must walk." Valaina felt her eyes go wide, shivering and barely able to stand, "Walk?" "You must exit as you entered, and then you can rest." Before Valaina could respond, she jerked and screamed in pain once again, her daughter flinching and crying at her expression of pain as the crossbow bolt was pulled from her leg. Valaina turned and looked at the path to the ramp, surprised to see it lit by torches, and dimly wondered what time it was. The path looked longer now than it had that morning. But she had to. For her daughter. For the kingdom. She braced herself, and straightened as much as she could, feeling the umbilical cord pulling at her lips as she did, and found she couldn't get past a half upright hunch. Each step was an eternity, her legs shaking so badly, she was surprised they held her weight, but eventually, she found herself at the top of the ramp and descending to the doors that had been opened once again. It was only a dozen more steps before she was out of the hail and inside the stone vaults of the amphitheater. Once the doors were closed, she felt her legs give out, and she was caught before she hit the floor.
She was bustled into what was called the After Chamber, a large space with a massive soft bed, a warm fire and numerous attendants who helped her deliver the afterbirth and dispose of it. Then, while the baby was being looked over, more attendants began lathering Valaina's body in a thick fluid squeezed from plants into her skin. Their efforts burned and stung, but afterwards, everywhere they rubbed began to feel soothed and relaxed once again. "Aloe," One of them explained, "It will help with the sun burn." Valaina didn't have the energy to reply, even to thank them, she just nodded tiredly, her vision fading in and out. "By what name are you calling your daughter?" The midwife asked as she examined the baby, and Valaina felt her eyes snap open. She hadn't really thought of one, but a name came to her now. Not her mother's name. As much as she loved her mother, she had told her nothing of the rigors of birth. She had no sisters. No aunts who's names she liked. But there was a name, the name of the midwife who Valaina had sit with as her aunt Kalunda had labored, and knew. "Her name is Ainara."
One Year Later
It had taken Valaina nearly two weeks before she was strong enough to leave the After Chamber. She quickly found that it had been built with that kind of time in mind, being fully stocked with supplies and materials to allow such a long recovery. When she did finally walk out of the vaulted entrance, she found a newfound respect waiting for her. Few queens had given birth in such a storm, and none had ever done so with a crossbow bolt in their leg. The bolt in question, along with the one that had narrowly missed her had been presented by the prime minister to her as a gift. It came with a sincere apology for regulating her parents to such distant seats in the arena. And while Valaina was still unable to forgive him for that, she took the bolts in the spirit they were intended, keeping them as a relic in the archive.
But the day Ainara turned one, she was standing in the square in front of the amphitheater, looking up at a shrouded statue. She didn't know who had commissioned it, but she felt it was Marne. With little ceremony beyond a short speech about the statue's commissioning, the veil was removed. Valaina gasped as she looked at it. She was depicted as a powerful figure, one hand held protectively over her belly, her other outstretched with a crossbow bolt held in her open palm. The statue's hair, her hair, as bound and pinned in place with the other crossbow bolt, and a lightning bolt crossing it. but what caught her breath were the hundreds of small gems dotting her form, and she knew that these represented the hailstone that pelted her through her birth, She felt a tear come to her eye as she looked at it, feeling the phantom pains of both the hail and the crossbow bolt sting her as the crowd applauded and cheered the statue commemorating their queen.
Susan leant back against the pillows and breathed in deeply. She rubbed her huge core as the painful cramps rose in strength. She squeezed her eyes closed and tried to focus. Breathing helped for a short duration until the pressure doubled between her legs. The mother to be continued to massage her aching belly. She could feel the tightening of her full womb as the mounting contraction twisted and throbbed down the birth canal. Clutching the sheets, Susan panted rhythmically as the rising pain continued to power towards its next peak.
The midwife entered the room with a large porcelain bowl of steaming water and set in down on the side table. She knew the contractions were coming stronger and closer together now. The hot water would be useful for reducing the pain of early crowning. She took note of Susan's laboring breaths and hurried to her side.
"Is there another one building? Just keep breathing. Just like your present efforts. You are doing so well."
Susan nodded with effort as the midwife wiped her damp face and gently stroked back some wet strands of hair from one of her flushed cheeks. Rapid panting accompanied with soft moaning escaped from Susan as she gripped the midwife's free hand for extra support. The midwife smiled and continued to encourage the laboring woman's focused work. Stroking her gigantic lower body, Susan arched her back as the violent contraction finally peaked. Panic filled her eyes as she looked directly at the midwife for what to do.
"Breath into the pressure! Breath deeply and follow the urge. It is time to bear down hard and with all your strength. The baby wants to begin to crown."
Susan moaned out long and loud, following through with a strenuous grunting push! She bore down, groaning with all her might. The strong exertion sent the pounding pressure through her birth canal, thrusting the massive head forward and down through her folds.
"Oh oh oh oh oh! OOOOOOWWWWWWWWEEEE! AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH! OH OH OH OH! OH THE PAIN! ITS TOO MUCH!"
Sweating down her brow, Susan tried again, stronger and longer with her next exertion. The baby's head was very heavy and extremely large. The stretching sensation as it was heaved forward through her birth passage was intolerable.
"I am pushing it! I want it out! I want to get it out! OOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWEEEEEEEEEE! GET OUT! THE PAIN! AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!"
The midwife supported her quivering thighs during her hard work of pushing and attempting to crown the top of the head. A small amount of damp hair was visible as the birthing mother began delirious. The exhausting contraction lasted one torturous minute before it released its brutal strength.
Susan gasped loudly and collapsed back on the soft mountain of pillows, shaking and fighting to regain her composure. The midwife gently covered her legs with her long gown and lowered her legs.
"You did so well! I could see some of the crown with your amazing pushing. You are so strong."
The midwife used the hot steaming water and soft cloths to relieve some mounting pressure forming at her swelling red lips. The crown was filling very slowly with dark, damp hair and a large dome of scalp.
An hour passed and Susan was grunting wildly on her hands and knees, fighting the endless pain as the humongous head forced its way deeper through her tight opening. Groaning with each effort, the present contraction was brutally spreading through her. Rocking back and forward, she could barely keep balanced as she pushed and strained harder and longer.......
"Thats it! Feel the head comes through you, Susan. Your efforts are incredible. Bear down and push with ALL of your strength. This baby wants to be born. It is time to feel the pressure and endure the toll of birthing!"
The midwife spoke with detailed birthing efforts as this is what helped the mother to focus but also to support what kind of birth Susan wanted to experience. She wanted to feel every push, every effort and endure each long, intense contraction. She wanted to be vocal and be in the moment as birth approached with all its intensity and strength.
"I can feel it! I can feel it all! Its so big! SO BIG! SO STRONG! OH THE PAIN! HERE COMES ANOTHER ONE! I HAVE TO PUSH IT!"
Susan was supported by strong hands as her trembling legs shook. The midwife kept a keen eye on the emerging head as the birther yelled out as more of the enormous head powered through her burning entrance. Susan grunted and shouted out as the painful pressure parted her narrow opening to accommodate the largest part of her baby's crown.
"I AM HAVING THIS BABY! IT HURTS! SO MUCH! MUST PUSH IT.......I CANT STOP! I AM ABOUT TO......GIVE BIRTH!"
The midwife nodded at the frantic words as the birthing mother bore down! She yelled to the walls of the birthing chamber as the baby's head began its final birthing journey. Susan cried out, screaming through the most painful sensation. The eruption came without warning. The explosion was brutal, propelling the head fully outwards with a roaring release of energy and strength.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH......I AM GIVING BIRTH! IT IS COMING OUT! RIGHT NOW! I AM HAVING THIS BABY! RIGHT NOW! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! THE PAIN! THE PRESSURE! GIVING BIRTH! HURTS SO MUCH!"
Contains: 3rd person POV, wlw, pregnancy, pregnant lesbian sex, lactation, and birthing
Description: After being forcefully enrolled into a catholic boarding school for her last semester of high school Eve meets a peculiar student that the school's staff seem very eager to hide.
The summer Eve turned 19 should have been ruined the day her parents caught another girl in her room. One more month and she could finally live on her own in the apartment she had been looking at that she could afford with a retail job. It all came crashing down after her bedroom door swung open and within the week she was enrolled into the boarding school the next town over.
With a glance in the bathroom mirror of her childhood home she didn’t recognize the girl staring back at her. She looked more like her birth name Evangeline and she hated it. Her eyes looked dull and lethargic without her makeup. Her eyes and lips didn’t pop. It felt odd not having her piercing to fiddle with when she was nervous. In another context she could make knee socks and a skirt work, but a woolen cardigan with a white button up was hideous. Not a lick of black was on her besides her long, straight hair.
And as she left her parents car into the full lot she cursed at the cars that flooded the lot. Of course the first day of her new life was a Saturday.
Eve walked the perimeter of the church, hoping that she could remain incognito for the rest of the ceremony. As she wandered the spaces outside of the chapel she went up stairs and a long hallway. The sound of footsteps and conversation reduced to nothing while she reached a double door at its end.
She heard hushed voices from behind it, rapid movement, and the rustling of clothing. Eve could only make out the shadows at the crack between the doors but recognized bodies with long headdresses around one person. When Eve nudged the door open slightly she could see her blonde, curly locks within the sea of black headdresses as they swarmed around the front of the woman. Amongst the nuns the woman's bare skin was exposed for a second before clothing was thrown over her body.
With her ear pressed against the space Eve could barely make out the words.
“-doesn’t fit… Order another-”
“-month to deliver… not enough … Call tailor-”
“-take measurements… Can’t see her.”
She jumped as she felt the air of the door against the side of her head as it slammed. Eve briskly turned the corner at the end of the hallway and waiting.The noise settled down before she heard the old wooden door creak open.
Only one pair of footsteps made her comfortable enough to hold her position. Eve stayed still as it got closer to the end of the hallway. The navy blue cardigan hung loose over the body of a young woman slightly shorter than Eve was. Blonde curls revealed themselves before brown eyes shot open as they met hers.
“Don't-!” The young woman looked up to see the school uniform on a new face. She gasped knowing how she looked with red cheeks and shiny eyes that she desperately tried to blink away.
“Sorry…” The young woman stepped away and covered her side with her arm. She maintained her distance as she plucked against her loose sweater.
“No worries. I'm new here and I got a little lost. I’m Eve.”
“Magdelena… Um…” She stared at Eve with her brow furled, long enough for her to wonder if anybody could look more out of place in a boarding school’s uniform. Something fluttered in her chest looking at the new student that stood over her like she was from a completely different world, a glimpse from the outside world.
“You can call me Maggie.”
Church bells rang and caught Maggie’s attention. Eve followed while they retraced their winding steps
A quadrant of the church filled with pews of girls dawned in the same uniforms that Eve and the other student wore. As she scanned the students in front of her. It was obvious through height alone. Of the faces that Eve saw there wasn’t another student over 14 besides Maggie.
The priest took his place before the altar, and unprompted to Eve, everybody stood. She kept track of her placement with her future classmate by her side.
They stood, they sat, they kneeled. Eve even followed her technique of carefully shuffling her hips down into the platform underneath and standing with her legs square to stand.
Maggie wore visible discomfort on her face. Tasks that the seniors of the town did effortlessly were performed by Maggie laboriously until the two lagged behind the rest of the crowd.
She panted heavily as she kicked up the platform again to rise to her feet. The others glared at her. The other girl rolled her weight uncomfortably, shifting her weight to either side of her body before finally rising to her feet.
Her knees far apart while slumped on the wood. Maggie planted, keeled over her midsection. The platform refused to rise with Maggie's knees locked in place. White faced and with a bead of sweat running down her forehead. People started to stare.
Without a hesitation Eve offered her arm. The young woman was heavier than she expected, her center of gravity anchored far in her core. Maggie returned to her feet shakily. She steadied herself protectively around her stomach only averting her hands when she caught Eve staring.
Mass was dismissed and Maggie went to disappear into the halls of the church without a word. Without guidance, Eve followed. “Where are we going?” She asked.
“Please don't follow me.” She looked constantly over Eve’s shoulder and her own. “If they see that you’re talking to me they might-”
“Hey.” Eve cut Maggie off with a stride and landed a little too close to her future classmate.
“I don't want to be here. There’s nothing anybody could do or say that’ll change that. If something's wrong I’m on your side.” Maggie had to look up to see Eve's eyes. So sure and unshakable was the woman before her.
“I promise.”
Maggie took a deep breath.
“Follow me.”
A dead beam of lights in janitors rooms that were overflowing with empty bottles of cleaning product
Her ambiguous form underneath her large sweater came free as Maggie lifted her layers over her hips. An undersized button up that was unable to button over the centermost section of her midsection. And its hem was too short to hide her bare skin from poking out the shirt's bottom, unable to hide her stomach’s heavy, bulbous form.
She undid the bottommost buttons on her top and lifted her layers over her body. Her skin stretched wide forward carrying the weight of a pregnant belly.
Her panicked breath as she finally undid the buttons around her stomach allowed her belly to reveal itself to her classmate before her and occupy the space that it needed.
“Woah…” Eve uttered. Maggie cringed, fiddling with her hands and clumsily concealing herself with her simultaneously undersized and oversized layers. She made her best attempt to pull the bottoms of her button up over her skin, to no avail.
“They sent me here when I told them I was pregnant.”
The room immediately felt smaller with the reveal of the third life residing inside of the stall. The two women stood in silence, neither knowing exactly what to say next.
“I keep on trying to take it day by day, but I’m just getting closer and closer to giving birth. I don’t know what to do.”
The inevitability of childbirth made its way to the forefront of Eve's mind, confusion turned into anger.
“So what? Teenage pregnancy isn’t difficult or humiliating enough? What kind of a church would do that?”
She knew that Eve was right. She was right about every second that had passed since she had gotten to their county’s baptist church. Eve was as correct as the conscience in the back of Maggie’s head. Before she could respond the tapping of wooden soles against old tile got closer to the basement bathroom
They’d surely see the two girls in the stall with Maggie’s button up ridded above her stomach. Any support that Eve could offer would fail to get off the ground if the school knew that Eve knew already.
“Sit on my lap.” Eve directed hastily. The porcelain creaked as Maggie leaned her weight into Eve.
“I’m sorr-”Eve brought a finger to Maggie’s lip before the entrance to the bathroom flew open.
The two held their breath as the wooden soles of the sisters clacked against the bathroom tile, methodically scanning for somebody’s presence. Maggie's legs trembled as the awkward weight of her body began to weigh on Maggie's thighs. Against her will she felt her legs begin to dip.
No Maggie thought to herself as her effort verbalized in her voice as she strained to keep her legs.
She gasped as she felt her legs elevate over her body with two soft hands supporting her thighs. Maggie’s skirt rode up and bunched at her waist revealing Eve’s hands pressed into her bare thighs. Eve cringed and mouthed an apology.
The bodies of the two young women stacked together. Holding Maggie's butt against her hips while holding her legs up and slightly open.
Eve shallow breaths against the back of Maggie’s neck. The back of Maggie's head against Eve’s face with her legs spread slightly before her. From the corner of Maggie’s eye she saw Eve’s tongue pressed against the corner of her lip. Her tongue pressed against the inside of her mouth nervously. Maggie’s eyes darted away when she realized she was staring at her lips.
The knocks at the door made the two women jump and the shadows of several pairs of feet surrounding the stall loomed just beyond the door. Eve took a deep exhale and waited for her breath to become clear.
“Occupied.” She announced. The voices at the door didn’t recognize the voice nor the long legs under the stall
“I hear a new voice. Evangeline? Is that you there?” Her fingers twitched against Maggie's thighs while she got ready to respond.
“Yes. Again, I’m a little busy.”
“Of course, yes, let’s introduce ourselves later.” The crowd outside the door began to shuffle away from the bathroom.
“You haven’t seen one of your classmates, have you?” A pair of feet appeared under the stall again. The voice mere feet and a thin wall of plastic away from the two girls. “A young woman your age with blonde hair?”
A suspicious amount of time passed before Eve cleared her throat. “I said I’m taking a shit. GET OUT!” Her booming voice forced the rest of the bodies out the door, leaving all but the souls that entered the stall first.
Their hearts pounded, hoping that neither could feel the others that reverberated their ribcage. The more Maggie relaxed her shoulders the more she felt her body sink into Eve.
Her chest pressed into Maggie's back. So close to the body of another young woman. Maggie was lighter than Eve anticipated, but her weight was centralized densely on an area of her hips. Eve stared under her at the pregnant woman's position, her legs spread open with her stretched out skirt between them to admire her size from Maggie’s point of view. Eve couldn't ignore the scale of the woman's body before her. Thoughts flooded her mind while she looked; how it felt to carry the mass bound to her hips, to hide a life she had to grow in secret inside of her.
“You think they’re gone?” Eve asked from between the crook of Maggie's neck.
“We should wait a few minutes…” Maggie whispered. “-to be safe.”
When the footsteps cleared from outside Eve helped lower Maggie’s trembling legs onto the tile floor gently. They appreciated the dimness of the ding lights of the basement while they slowly escaped from the bathroom stall.
“Thank you for telling me. Um… If you need any help, with the baby, or anything… I’m here.”
“I… Thank you…”
~
It didn’t take long for Eve to notice Maggie’s absence. She took the last unoccupied bed in the students dorm and she was nowhere to be seen during open periods. By the second day without seeing her in the courtyards she asked around.
“There's another older student. Maggi-I mean-Magdelena?”
Each girl offered a different reaction.
“Now that you mention it, we see her a lot less these days.”
“She gets a lot of extra lessons with the sisters.”
“Yeah! I think she's going to become a nun!”
The uncertainty gave Eve a bad feeling. She wondered where they would hide a pregnant student outside of the meal and class times that Eve saw her. If the didn’t act quickly days could turn into weeks, and she wasn’t sure how many more she had to get closer to Maggie.
On the other end, Eve was just as elusive seeming to disappear for hours at a time that would spur panic amongst the boarding school teachers. The name of the oldest student flooded the conversation. They corroborated her stories from public schooling, they lambasted her for dozing off in classes, everybody seemed to have an opinion about Eve. Everybody but Maggie.
A pen rolled over by Maggie’s feet, interrupting her thoughts. Before she began the treacherous journey to pick it up she saw Eve’s long black hair coming back up to place it on her desk. At the clip a slip of paper attached to it.
On that tiny slip of paper held the first three words Maggie didn’t know she was waiting to hear. A combination of loneliness and hormones could make her cry at the tiny gesture.
‘How are you?’
She was fiddling with her pencil when Maggie turned behind to find her, satisfied to have finally caught her attention. Eve found something new to focus on across the classroom as Maggie’s pencil moved constantly against her notebook for the rest of the lecture until they were dismissed and Maggie was taken away from the dorms again. When Eve approached her locker at the end of the day she found a page of paper filled with writing
The hand writing started off bold and easy to read as its writer talked about the lesson. How bored she was. Of food that she wished she had. Of how lonely it felt when she wasn’t in classes.
The letter kept on going until her neat handwriting became a jumbled mess of sentences crammed between the lines. Eve made out the last words on the page.
‘I hope my baby is alright.’
Eve read the letter many times over as she laid in her dorm room bed with the other girls. She opened her blank notebook for the first time and began to write her response. She rambled like Maggie did, how she couldn’t even start to relate, how sad she felt towards the young girls in the dorm room, what, or rather, who she did to get her parents to enroll her into the same school. That it was her sexuality that landed her here in the first place.
Eve found her outside of the lockers without a nun in sight. It seemed like they found a place to finally see each other, if even for a moment between classes. .Relief painted on Maggie's face, followed by a twinge of embarrassment.
“It wasn’t too much, right?”
“Of course not. It’s the most interesting thing that’s happened since I’ve gotten here.” Eve shuffled for the loose papers in her folder. “Thanks for the notes.” Eve winked nestled within the blank sheets of instructions and bible passages was another piece of lined paper.
“And… I got you something when I was out.”
A plastic bag wrapped around a small trove that folded under its weight. In Maggie’s eyes it glowed. An inventory of treats curated from her rambling from a page of notes. Sweets, chips and drinks, all far from the concessions and odd budget treats that the church gave to the students.
“They’re going to be looking for me soon.” Maggie sighed. Eve shrugged.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, alright?”
Maggie’s eyes brightened as she clenched the letter that Eve gave her. She felt a flutter in her chest that was lost on her in her solitude.
Every day they honored this agreement.
Maggie through these pages. For she’d have to settle with the information about herself. Revealing details about themselves in little pages of notes and talking by the lockers.
Her thoughts about Maggie's letters didn't end. After the light came off. As she closed her eyes. Her heart pounded like everything inside of her was begging to be touched. Weeks passed quickly, her mind flooded with a very attractive woman her age.
She thought about how well her body was hidden behind the uniform beyond those sagging layers. She pictured what it would’ve felt like to press up against her again, to look down and see her body from her point of view in all of its fecundity. Has her body grown since they last talked? How much?
She found herself shifting against her mattress. Weeks of her disrupted routine caught up to her and lit a fire that she wouldn’t think to stoke in the dorm. Eve silently got up from her bed and out of the dorms. The floorboards creaked from underneath her as she stepped into the chapel lit dimly by the moon. She stayed still so her steps wouldn’t make any noise as she surveyed the area.
Bathrooms? No, somebody could come in there.She arrived at a wooden box with curtains on either end. A fault tapping far away. She only recognized what the sound was before it came too close to make her escape.
Footsteps.
They navigated surgically throughout the church, avoiding all of the creaks under them. Eve held her breath as the figure purposefully approached the closed door of the booth and entered onto the other side. The wooded benches creaked as the person took a seat just feet away from her.
“Hello father, are you there?” Eve’s eyes grew wide, recognizing Maggie’s voice from a meshed pane and a curtain away.
Her voice broke into shaky laughter. “I don’t know why now would be any different”
Wherever she was she knew she shouldn’t be. Should it be better to reveal herself immediately? To go to their rooms like nothing happened? She opened her mouth to speak but was cut off.
“What type of god are you? I’ve begged and prayed, more than I ever did when I was a little girl. Not just for my sake, but for my child. And all I receive is loneliness and isolation.”
A shaky sigh filled the silence.
“I wish I could say I’ve sinned. She’s the first person who hasn’t punished me for getting pregnant. The most loved I felt since-” The gentle rustling of cloth against flesh. Eve’s mind could only imagine what was going on through the screened wall between them. She choked out a sob that rattled in her chest with deep regret.
Eve’s breaths felt like they echoed against the walls. She felt like it could be nothing short of a miracle that she couldn’t hear her from the spaces between the wooden pane.
“If I could say I did what I wanted and made love with another woman. Just so I can know what’d happen if I sinned again. The punishment couldn’t be much worse. .If I up and fucked Eve! Hah-As if she’d want me like this…”
Maggie gasped as she heard the gentle knocks of the door of the confession booth. The loose hinges caused the door to slide open with the slightest touch, and with the growing space she saw Eve’s head poke into the door.
“If she did?”
Maggie was in her night gown. While the back was loose down to her ankles that sat stretched out to her knees. It took real time for Maggie to hide herself the sound of her belly rubbing against her legs as she closed her thighs. Maggie could only slump into her seat with embarrassed silence, her last sentence replaying in her head a hundred times over.
“D-did you hear?”
“Mhm. the whole thing.” She let the curtain fall behind her.
“Doing what you want, with who you want. With me? Is that right?” Her reassurance brought out its unmistakable truth. The setting brought out the most of Maggie’s words, in the face of the woman whose words were directed towards she wanted to be honest.
“I do want you, Maggie.” She reached her hand in the dark and found her hand against Maggie’s cheek. Her palm became damp with Maggie’s tears. Her chin tilted slightly towards the voice in the dark confession booth. “Do you want to find out what’ll happen together?”
Maggie sighed. “I don’t know what I’m doing…” She admitted with one hand against her baby bump.
“All you have to know is when to tell me to stop. Can you do that for me?”.
A soft “Mhm!” escaped her throat as Maggie nodded enthusiastically
Eve's knees descended to the archaic wooden floor. A closed booth in the night meant their eyes would never adjust to their closed surroundings. Eve didn’t need the light to navigate another woman’s body.
The same loose nightgown that Eve was wearing. Though it felt loose on her, it was stretched taut in every direction of Maggie’s body. Eve got down on her knees, letting her fingers draw the outline of Maggie’s body as she went down before reaching the hem of her nightwear.
The cloth clung to Maggie’s thighs as Eve lifted it over her knees. The curviness of her hips were nearly twice as wide as hers and her eyes were drawn to the stretched skin where they connected to her belly. Maggie shifted her exposed legs
Maggie's exhales were shaky in anticipation. She lifted the weight on her hips to assist Eve with sliding her underwear down one of her ankles.
Eve let out a gasp as she went between Maggie’s legs. The proof of her fertility that nestled over her head. Her plump pussy dominated her face. Unlike anybody Eve had ever gone down on. Her scent was intoxicating. She could drown inside of Maggie, and with weeks of celibacy she was ready to.
A chesty whimper escaped with her teasing.
Eve’s lips planted a line of kisses against Maggie’s inner thighs to get her acquainted with her mouth. Maggie moaned, feeling the soft, full lips of a woman working their way between her legs. Her chest felt like it was floating with a slight tickling sensation while she opened her legs wider. Her belly filled the open space until it touched the side of Eve’s face, hanging low as if begging for attention as well.
Eve felt the hip movements of her lover, her middle finger found the crook of her opening right under her clit, up and down before ending up at the spot where she started.
The sound of her wetness between her plump, swollen folds filled the air. If her face wasn’t eclipsed by her massive belly Eve could see the redness of her face through the darkness.
Her bare sex was exposed. The expecting woman quivered at every one of Eve’s exhales. Her pussy that was begging to be stroked. She pulsed against every one of Eve’s breaths as her opening begged for attention. With two fingers parked against her lips, she sank into Maggie’s pillowy folds.
“Mnnnnhhh!” her back arched, levitating her heavy midsection from her seat. Maggie’s hot insides welcomed Eve’s fingers that clenched around Eve’s fingers. Her insides ripened with pregnancy refusing to let go. Even in the dark Eve’s hands were masterful, drawing the form of Maggie’s vulva while Eve teased her opening. She tasted the fluids that drippled out as Eve continued to finger her.
Maggie's breath hitched when she felt movement deep within her stomach. Her baby began to kick in response to the strongest surges of pleasure Maggie felt in many months. Her skin stretched in opposite directions while the sensations made her unborn child shift positions inside of their mother.
Her body was at the liberty of the child inside of her and the woman servicing her between her legs. Eve’s fingers glided in and out of her. The pumps of her fingers rippled against Maggie's thighs as her pussy took Eve effortlessly to the base of her knuckles. Eve watched her fingers go in and out of Maggie closely, knowing that at the tip of her fingers was the area her baby was growing.
Maggie gasped as Eve’s fingers popped free. Her hips grinded in the air subconsciously
Her heavy hips that she once felt on her lap. They were steady against her face. This far between Maggie’s legs she could look up and the midsection that hung heavily against her face. It dominated everything that she could see, larger than her head and heavy. She had to lift her belly to find a comfortable place to nestle her face.
With Maggie's pregnant belly parked against her forehead she could feel every breath against her. Maggie’s shaky legs and her heels climbed against the booth. Both knees pressed up against the cramped walls. She could feel the baby moving against her forehead as their mother contorted under her tongue.
Eve’s breath hitched, overwhelmed with the body of a woman swollen full of life before her. The way Maggie looked motherly with both hands on her belly drove her mad to indulge a partner in such a condition. Eve lifted her gown and put her hand between her legs, slid her underwear to the side, and began rubbing herself to the fullness that surrounded her head.
Maggie's mind went fuzzy at the thought that being eaten was for Eve’s pleasure as much as her own. A sexual young woman. Eve read every one of her breaths. The quickening of her tongue to go faster. The spots that made her clench her thighs and roll.
“Nhhg- fuck-!’ Maggie's high pitched squeals filled the booth.
Adorable. Eve thought as she worked herself between her legs faster.
The feeling of the smooth, tight skin of her heavy stomach was intoxicating. She could feel every breath, every pulse of life from within Maggie as she pleasured her. Big kicks from inside shifting the direction of her belly as her baby rampaged inside of her.
Eve drew her tongue across her opening and ending with an audible suckle of her labia. Her tongue moved in accordance to every hitch of Maggie's breath. Eve devoured her thoroughly, indulging herself with Maggie's ripe body. She’d never experienced a lover’s body both so full and so sensitive. Her sensitivity, her swollen womb in Eve’s hands and all of that pressure in her pelvis.
“I’m re-mmmnnghhh-I’m so close.” Eve’s fingers walked over the bottom of her lower stomach.
Maggie began to hump her face. Her movements twitchy and heavy that pushed Eve’s head back and mashed her tongue into her lover’s pelvis. Maggie could feel Eve's lips tighten around her.
“Use my face to cum.” Eve’s voice came from tight lips. Her excitement was tangible as she let out a low moan before putting her mouth to Maggie’s pussy once more.
Her request was tantalizing. Maggie's ankles clasped around the back of Eve’s head. Her calves rubbed together as her thighs made a mess of Eve’s hair. Every other breath smothered Eve’s airways with Maggie’s skin
Both of her arms carried the weight to hold her pregnant body behind her. She thought of Eve’s soft lips while she grinded her hips to remember the features of Eve’s pretty face between her legs. Her knees retracted into her body, smushing Eve’s head against her tightened squirming belly.The weight of her hips swayed unapologetically, grinding pleasure out from her new partner. Her thrusts where a freight train with her heavy round grinded recklessly into Eve’s head.
“Ahh-ahh-AAAAAAHH!”Her squeals of elation were loud enough to hear the acoustics of the steeple outside. Eve’s lips tightened around her as the two women came together in the confession both.
Her belly squeezed and contorted as she came, Contracted ab muscles drew the shape of a downward facing body inside of her. Deep breaths returned it to its original rounded shape as Maggie slumped backwards into the confession booth. Slowly Eve removed her from the crevice between Maggie’s thigh and belly.
The two took reeling chesty gasps as Maggie finally lowered her bare legs against Eve’s shoulders. Eve wiped the sides of her mouth and licked the fluids off of her fingers. As the more experienced lesbian pulled away she admired how beautiful Maggie looked when she was satisfied in her pregnant body.
The entrance of the confession booth drew Eve’s figure in the moonlight. She looked divine in her own nightgown. Maggie’s eyes adjusted to the dark in her post orgasm state. She came closer and pressed her damp lips against Maggie’s forehead, for a moment she could be convinced Eve was an angel.
Their faces came closer.
Then they heard more footsteps. Nearly a dozen feet spread across the church's creaky floorboards.
“We have to go!” Maggie cried, sliding her underwear haphazardly.
The two turned towards the common dorms to find the hallway patrolled by multiple nuns. “Come into my room!” Eve followed her into the stairs into the hallway she wandered into her first day at the school. Halfway up the stairs they made eye contact with a sea of black robes. As they turned around, another party caught up behind them.
~
The morning after the girls were sent to their rooms they were silent. With no notes to exchange
The two girls exchanged glances, knowing there had to be some punishment for being caught with each other after curfew. The rest of their class continued to trickle in the first of the morning.
“Before we get started. Evangeline, may you please come to the front of the class?”
Every conversation stopped in its tracks. Eve looked around to all the faces looking at her with dread, most of all, Maggie's, whose color had been drained from her peach skin. The creaking of the floorboards had never been loaded as she took the steps that elevated her to the forefront of the classroom.
“Evangeline was caught last night, influencing our own Magdelena to come with her late into the night. Please face the class.”
Something whistled against the air, the air that cracked against the back of her thighs with a force that felt like it sliced her legs open.
“FUCK!” Eve screamed
Before she could recover the cane wound up again, the second strike echoed against the brick walls as Eve cursed and wailed. The pain sucked the air out of her lungs and forced her to keel over against the desk. Repeatedly striking against her only area of burned skin. The class remained silent, the room filling only with the strikes against Eve’s skin. She couldn’t see the thing that struck her skin
The only thing worse than the pain was the humiliation. The students knew this was the punishment of even trying to talk to Maggie. Through blurry eyes she looked for something to make it stop. Her hands sprawled looking for something, anything to swing back at the sister with.
Her skin was aflame. Another strike would break her skin.
“Stop!”
Eve didn’t need to look up to recognize the voice. The seat in the back of the classroom as the oldest student before her clumsily rose to her feet. Maggie’s journey to the front of the classroom made the nun take many steps away from Eve.
“Stay where you are!” In the corner of Eve’s eye she could see the sister back away with her bamboo cane in hand. The nodes of the wood that struck her like barbs.
“I told her to meet me. In my condition its getting harder to-”
“That's enough!” The words came out in desperation, as if they would stop at anything to make sure Maggie didn't speak another word. Mutters broke out around the classroom.
The base of the cane tapped the ground for a moment. A sigh of frustration that only Eve was close enough to hear left the nuns' lips.
“Both of you, be seated.”
Maggie waited for Eve to limp into her arms. She held her arm and walked at the pace of her slow waddle with a protective hand over her hip.
“I’m sorry…” she pleaded upon seeing Eve’s teary, red eyes.
“Thank you.” Eve muttered between sobs.
~
After the bell rang 20 times Eve looked out onto the courtyard. A room at the corner of the building. The lights flickered on and off twice before the blinds opened.
She climbed up the tile columns. Her button up and cardigans obviously stained from the weathered stone. She slung a plastic bag over the window before swinging her leg into the room and rolling in.
Maggie leaned against her bed, swaying gently like the open curtains of the window with her brow slightly curled. She took a deep breath while rubbing her belly against her night gown.Her eyes opened with genuine surprise to see Eve so soon.
“So this is where they leave you.” Eve said, slinging another back of snacks into Maggie’s room. She was running out of places to put the trash from her previous cravings.
“You’re not even trying to hide these anymore, huh?”
“They’ve been leaving me a lot more since almost revealing my pregnancy to everybody.”
“You’re getting bold. I like that.” Eve looked, “You’re really not going to confirmation classes.”
“Oh yeah. There’s no way they could hide me from everybody else at a new place. It’s too risky for them.” Maggie’s eyes immediately shot open.
“Forget about me! What’re they going to do when they realize you’re not in the group?”
“They counted my head on the bus. I just slipped out when they weren’t looking. All they know, I finally ran away.”
Maggie chuckled with how casually Eve admitted to slipping away from the offsite trip. She threw around her pillows and lifted up her phone from the pile. “Look what I’ve managed to get from scaring them with my pregnancy.” She smirked
Eve flopped on the only bed, which had been taken over by the school's isolated pregnant student.
Maggie’s phone was still on to a picture of Maggie in her most natural look dawned with all of her piercings and dark makeup. Maggie went back and forth from the picture to the woman in front of her.
“Oh! That’s what you’re always licking!” She said, pointing to the piercing on the corner of her lip.
“Yeah, that was my first. I didn’t realize how much I did that until I got-” Maggie looked at her expectantly. “Until I met you.”
“Let me pull up my instagram!” Posed up next to all of her friends. Her hair was longer. All of the pictures with relatives that wore crosses, family portraits next to churches. For a prolific poster it felt eerie to see the flow of posts suddenly end. With Maggie in front of her, recalling all of the memories caught on picture she felt a little better.
“I forgot I looked like that.” Maggie said, looking down at the body that had changed remarkably over the long months. SHe lifted her gown up above her shirt to Eve’s surprise. Her eyes darted away as her hands ran up and down the length of her belly before lingering around her hips.
When Eve readied herself to stare at Maggie’s bare body she saw her bump descend far below her hips, weighing heavily down into her pelvis. “Woah, that’s a lot lower than it’s been.”
“Yeah, they feel a lot lower in my hips lately. I'm getting so big. Its just…” Her hands hovered around her midsection as her hushed voice held back a squeal of excitement.
“Ahhh! It's so there!” Excitement to talk about her unborn child. Eve looked at her with admiration in her eyes, trying to shake away the feelings of seeing Maggie glow over her body. By the time she noticed her tick begin it was already too late.
Maggie’s eyes narrowed with a smile. “Are you getting turned on?”
“What?”
“You can’t lie to me, I already know your tell!” Eve’s pale cheeks flushed red being read so easily. For Eve’s reputation she wondered how many others have seen such an expression on her face.
“You make being pregnant look really pretty…”
Maggie clasped Eve's hands and pressed them against her bare stomach, allowing her to feel her warm, delicate womb fluttering with life. The beauty of her pregnant body on full display and her own miracle that she nurtured. Maggie craved the taller girl’s touch.
Eve shifted closer in the bed to carry Maggie’s body. They were finally in each other's arms. They felt each other's warmth. The weight of motherhood that Eve carried in her hands.
“Wait.”
“What's wrong?”
“We have the whole school to ourselves. Do you want to… use the whole school?”
Maggie learned into Eve's ear.
“... is that crazy?”
The heavy door creaked as its handle was turned. For the first time she didn’t worry about who could hear her. Her pregnancy, proof of Maggie's child that she carried was finally allowed to be revealed in the school.
The place that had been a prison for. Maggie felt like open air in Eve’s presence. These feelings were overwhelming in the expecting mother as she buzzed down the hall they first met.
It felt like Eve could finally stretch her legs. Free to do what she wanted she found herself with the adulthood she dreamed of with a woman by her side. She turned to see her giddy stride made considerable distance from her pregnant lover. Eve held back laughter as she doubled back to Maggie slowed by her waddle.
“Ah-hahahaha!” Maggie’s laughter filled the old church. “We’re alone! We’re actually alone!”
Their giggles filled their hallway with their heavy footsteps, chasing each other light moonlight through the cathedral like succubi for the other. Before stopping at the front of the prayer hall. Maggie stuck her fingers in the holy water tub and facetiously laid a prayer to the father, son, and holy spirit. Before splashing the droplets holy water at Eve.
“Tsss.” Eve hissed like the sound of evaporating as she pretended to be repelled by the droplets. Maggie giggled before Eve by the hand and guided her into the empty hall. She couldn’t remember the last time she walked so quickly, needing to place her other hand atop her belly to keep from swaying. Eve lagged behind, guided by the pregnant students' excited skips as she admired her lover brimming with excitement as she saw somebody closer to who Maggie was before the school.
The two stopped by the carpet by the altar. “This is where they usually put the arch for weddings.” Maggie looked behind her, beaming at the woman following her down the carpet.
“Hehe, I feel like a bride walking down the aisle.”
As Eve followed she slowed as Maggie did, she let go of her hand and put both against her stomach and let out a deep breath with her eyes closed. “Woah, are you okay?” Eve asked, protectively coming to her side.
“Yeah. I just moved a little quickly.” Maggie sighed as she caught her breath. She turned behind her, sheepishly approaching the girl who managed to stay by her side. “Nevermind me! You're all wet…”
As much as she tried to hide it, her hands were shaking as they approached her collar, hovering before touching her uniform. Maggie’s hands lifted up Eve’s cardigan over her body, pulling up her shirt over her stomach, the first piece of bare skin Maggie had seen of Eve.
Her slow, steady hands popped the buttons on Eve’s top as if she was counting the buttons it would take to free Eve's body. She lifted off the buttoned up curtains away from Eve's body. Her belly pressed into Eve slightly to get close enough to unclasp her bra. This close to her face she saw the pink in her cheeks She shifted the cups from her perky tits, leaving Eve topless in front of the empty chapel.
Maggie’s tentative fingers explored Eve’s body. She forgot what a flat stomach had felt like.
“I think you'd be really pretty pregnant, too.”
Eve's breath hitched as her lower stomach was stroked by the back of Maggie's fingers. The pregnant woman's stomach laid boldly between them, demanding either woman's attention. If her stomach was sensitive now she wondered how Maggie’s in its heavy, bulging form,
Maggie’s eyelids fluttered as Eve’s hands snuck up from under her stretched out top. She craved her touch from their last escapade and leaned into her fingers to show her graciousness.
Eve began to undo the buttons on Maggie's uniform. Each button releasing the tension of the growing body it tried to hide. Her collar sprang open to her growing bust that popped free and filled her bra the way her chest needed. She got to the final buttons and her garments began to slide over her shoulders before being caught around her belly. A stare, and a pause before Eve unclasped the final link that slid her shirt over her shoulders.
Soft and heavy, their size spilled from Eve's fingertips as she tried to support the expectant mothers massive tits. In the dark she felt the extenuating pores from around her areolas before getting to her erect nipples.
The more she played with her sensitive, rubbery nips she felt a moisture pad against her fingertips with a gasp. “Sorry, they’ve started leaking.” Eve felt her mouth water to the wetness on her fingertips before taking them away from Maggie's sensitive breasts.
“You're so soft… And curvy.” The wandering hands of a sapphic virgin. “I want to kiss you so badly…” Eve holding Maggie’s blond curls while Maggie let Eve’s jet black hair flow between her fingertips
Their bodies melted together as they were finally given each other’s presence uninterrupted. Weeks of questioning and desire built up in one night of an empty church that oppressed the two of them. Their breasts fitting into place against the others cleavage for their lips came together.
The feeling of another woman’s lips made Maggie feel like she could fly. Her fingers wanted to sink into all of the skin on Eve’s long legs. She wanted to clasp her arms around her narrow waist and never let go.
Fingers roamed around nude bodies.The woman before her wasn’t a before picture of her pregnancy, but a new body entirely. Eve admired the curve of her stomach right under her hips. To her sides were hips that had widened in preparation for childbirth. Heavy breasts that sagged under their own weight. Soft enough to roll between her fingers. In the dim light Eve saw her body decorated in stretchmarks
Their noises echoed throughout the chapel. Walls that were usually filled with prayer now echoed with their simultaneous moans. Maggie found herself looking over her shoulder to see dozens of people entering the church, but in Eve’s hands they disappeared. Eve kissed her like she was the only thing that mattered, herself and her child, who Eve had placed a hand over as she came close.
They pulled away panting before stumbling against the side of the altar. Their foreheads against each other.
She came closer to her partner again, taking Maggie into her arms as close as their hips could get. The two swayed gently, feeling Maggie's bump nestle safely between them.
“I want to know who you were before this place.”
“I want to show you.” Maggie got close enough to her to feel the warmth of each other. She leaned her belly into Eve, feeling her partner yield to the part of Maggie she was so fixated on. “I'll make it more obvious than it already is.”
She pinned her against the altar and guided her down against the soft carpet. Eve submitting under the weight of Maggie’s pregnant belly. Maggie's heart fluttered at how beautiful Eve looked under her, in a pool of jet black hair and awe she felt straddled by her pregnant partner.
“This is the position I got pregnant in.” Maggie chuckled. Eve felt no better than a teenage boy. If it was Maggie on top of her she would’ve gotten her pregnant too. Maggie’s hips clumsily grinded into hers, her desperation in her pregnant body charmingly hot as her belly rolling against her desired the next hump that would take her breath away.
Maggie leaned forward to descend over Eve's body but was stopped by her bump that flattened slightly against Eve. She let her tits hang over Eve's face, moaning softly every time her nipples grazed Eve's cheeks. Eve felt a streak of warm fluid draw against her face before Maggie jolted up.
“Ah! My milk!” Maggie gasped. “I'm getting your face wet.” Eve rubbed the wet trail on her cheek and put those fingers on her mouth. There was enough colostrum on her face to taste the fresh nutiness Maggie’s body began creating for her child. The intimacy of sucking from a mothers breast wasn’t lost on either woman, the two looked equally as shocked that the other enjoyed it as much as they did. “Can you feed me more?”
Maggie swallowed and lowered her leaky nipple towards Eve’s mouth. She arched her back and sighed leaned forward for her heavy breast to flatten against Eve’s lips. The suction of her lips connected the two together as Eve fed with her body. She rocked back and forth while she was pleasured from the stimulation against her nipples. Her forehead furrowed, Maggie’s belly parked between them started to stiffen at the stimulus yet her hips did not stop.
An audible pop as Maggie released from her lap. Warm and taut. Their hips trembled against each other. Eve’s lips were covered in milk and Maggie’s eyes were lost in a lusty daze. Maggie’s knees crawled themselves down from Eve’s lap.
“You poor thing. That has to be rough on your knees.” Eve doted. She removed the cushions tied on the chairs behind the altar and set them down for a comfortable surface for Maggie to support her heavy body. Her body came unbalanced with a giggle as she landed softly on the pillows.
“Eve.” She said from her side. Maggie set one heel flat on the ground and splayed herself open in the position most comfortable for her heavy body. ”Please fuck me.”
Eve paused for a moment. Not for her sake, but for her partners. She began to straddle Maggie’s leg and held up her other leg in a position that rested naturally for her pregnant body. Maggie's heart pounded as she laid on her side, unsure of what to expect. Eve walked her legs between Maggie's getting closer to her sex.
This close to her nude, delicate body Eve knew she’d never want to love anybody better than she did in this moment.
The heat between her legs that she wanted to share with the poor pregnant woman trapped inside this church. She thought of this moment since the day they met, the day that she could show Maggie a new world.
With a push of Eve’s hips their pelvis connected each other's bodies together. The more she pushed her hips the bore she sunk into Maggie's plush pussy until their lips flattened together.
“Mnhhhhh~” Maggie moaned. She felt like she was losing her virginity again.
The sound of their sexes was audible as they pulled away like wet kisses. Their vulvaes each try to swallow each other whole. They shared the warmth as each of their entrances became slick to the other’s wetness.
The thigh Eve carried was heavy. When she looked down there was a lot of woman between her legs. Her eyes were nearly shut with the corner of her lips curled up in the most blissful slumber. Her belly was carried by the cushions on the ground. If there was a woman she wanted to spoil it was Maggie. To carry her sins that way nobody else had.
Eve’s laborious whimpers flowed with dedication. Maggie’s body felt worshipped after nearly 10 months of being hidden. Her question in the confession booth was answered. The punishment of sin was worth feeling this way between Eve’s legs.
The wetness of her nipples began to dribble down the side of her breasts as their bodies rocked back and forth with Eve's thrusts, soaking into the cushions beneath them. Maggie kept a hand on Eve's hips as she thrusted, feeling her curves rhythmically roll to nestle each other into their bodies.
Everywhere she thrust she was met with Maggie’s warm embrace. The touch of a soon to be mother Her body was fluid, rolling with the weight of the fruits of her pregnancy.
Their breaths synced while mounting pleasure bloomed within them. Lost in the moment she found her hand atop something firm and round. With every bump and grind she felt how her movements swayed Maggie’s body. She pictured the little life that Maggie had grown in her body, the love and dutiful effort of a mother hidden away behind the church's walls. Maggie kept Eve’s hand over her unborn child.
Maggie’s brow clenched as the round between them began to tighten. Her chesty, guttural groans got louder as Eve felt her body climb to elation. Atop Maggie’s bump their fingers interlocked to share the pleasure they found together.
“Ah-ah-ahhhoooouuuuu!” Eve vocalized as she mustered the rest of the control in her hips between Maggie’s legs. Eve caught herself with a hand before her body gave in. Thighs trembling as she leaned softly against Maggie's body.
“A-AAAhhh~!” A chesty yelp escaped Maggie’s throat as her body twisted and contorted between Eve’s legs while her stomach receded sharply into her body.
She let out a sharp cry when both women heard what sounded like a water balloon popping inside of Maggie. In an instant a rush of fluids spilled from inside of Maggie all at once. Eve jolted backwards against the warm water that cascaded onto her thigh and continued to dribble out from between her lovers legs.
They stared at the fluid that stained the red carpet in stunned silence.
“Was… did you squirt?”
“I’ve never squirted in my life…”
Instead of slowly recovering as Maggie had before she stayed in position. With a hand over her stomach gripping at her belly as she receded into her core. The movement, the pressure, the dropping, it all caught up to Maggie in her one moment of release surrounded by nobody but Eve.
“U-unghhh!” She writhed on the floor, trying to protect her own child for the contracting of her full term belly. “My-my water broke! Ahhh-AAAAHH!” She cried. A contraction seized her midsection mercilessly, as if her body recognized an opportunity to give birth in safety.
“Maggie, we gotta get you to the hospital.” She said, gathering their clothes from the floor. She was stopped by Maggie fighting through her labor pains to grab her forearm.
“No, no! Please, Eve, they're not gonna let you stay!” Eve halted and turned around.
“The hospital, they’re-Aannnggh!! They’re gonna make you leave! I can’t-I can't do this without you.” She felt how Maggie desperately clung onto her. Fear and adrenaline were in her eyes. She thought of how much of her pregnancy she had to go through alone already. She knew she could be making a mistake, but how could she leave her alone when it was for her to give birth?
Eve bit her cheeks. “Do you feel like you need to push?” She said as she joined Maggie on her knees.
She shook her head “They feel like the worst cramps ever.”
Eve cringed. “Okay. Maybe don’t push yet.”
She couldn’t hide the pains that were bothering her for the last few hours any longer. Her face scrunched. “Unnnnnnnghhhhh!” She grunted from deep within her chest.
Her neck flexed and her teeth clenched. Her thick, wavy hair began to cling to her forehead and dampen with her sweat. As she fought against something that predated her religion. It was only when she realized how much noise she made at the end of her contraction that made her body come back down to earth.
“I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.” she cried weakly, embarrassed for the situation that made her appear less than flattering.
“Don’t apologize. Those are really pretty noises.” Eve reassured her laboring partner.
“Let's get you upright. Can you stand?” Maggie stared at her core between her legs, exhausted from the pains that were working against her all night. She shook her head helplessly.
“How about your knees?” Maggie took Eve’s hand reluctantly, and on a count of three the two women rose up to their knees with each other in their arms.
Maggie’s eyes grew wide when she felt the full force of gravity act upon the head that spread her insides open. She clung to Eve while her body moved into action beyond her control.
“It's slipping outtttt.” Maggie slurred as she squeezed into her birthing partner’s body.
“What??”
“Mmmmmfffghoming out!!” As her pleas turned inaudible Eve scrambled to look between her legs to find anything that Maggie could be talking about. Despite a descended orb that laid at the very base of her stomach there was nothing exposed.
“I-is it out?” Maggie asked desperately. Eve wished that the answer was yes. Maggie was desperate and exhausted while she looked for any answer as to what her body was doing. “I… Don’t see anything yet.”
The laboring woman let out a groan in frustration at the pain she already experienced.
“I can check inside of you if you can handle it?”
Maggie nodded tentatively as she shifted her knees one at a time to open her legs, unsure if she could ever move from her position again. The vagina of a woman she just had sex with. Maggie bit her lips and braced herself as Eve's fingers entered her slowly.
Her digits flinched as they made contact with something round inside of Maggie.Just inches inside of Maggie’s vagina was a wet, solid sphere that spread the young woman's walls open. The lip of her cervix was nowhere to be found.
“What is it?” She asked upon seeing Eve's startled face. Her hands left her lover's body, not forgetting the feeling that was just at the tip of her fingertips. “The head is right there.
After a few minutes Maggie’s deep breaths became strained. Her chin raised to the ceiling as if bracing herself against her own body. “Nnngh! It's different” Maggie choked out as her attention was pulled to the energy that gripped her core.
“Preeeshuree. There's so much pressure!” Her voice strained and cut off in her throat. It felt like she was going to explode if she continued to wait.
“Okay Maggie, push!”
Maggie went silent as she bore down. Her forehead scowled and her cheeks puffed with air. The slightest pressure relieved as she felt the sphere inside of her spread its way through her birth canal. But replacing it was a stinging burn as her lips began to part around the head. Her breath caught as she tried to recover, and before she was ready the contraction was already over.
Her breathing paced as she felt the wasted energy of the head locking back inside of her. Fear manifested around her grip around Eve's shoulders. She needed a minute to collect herself, to tell herself that everything was going to be okay.
But her body wouldn’t listen.
Her body fought to get her baby out, whether or not she was ready. And what felt like a moment later another contraction ripped through her unprepared body. The pressure accumulated against her midsection while the pain of her opening seized her.
“IT HURTS SO MUCH.” She thrashed in Eve’s arms. Her support loosening as her body involuntarily tried to run from the pain. Panic and agony controlled her tightened body. She until her voice went hoarse. For as much as the struggle the body hadn’t progressed an inch.
“Maggie. I need you to relax, okay?” Her voice trolled, her hips swayed wildly trying to move the pressure that mounted between her pelvis.She was scared of the force that was moving inside of her that threatened to open her up. She was frustrated by how little she had moved from giving birth to her baby and where her folds halted there was a burning that overwhelmed her senses.
“I feel like I’m doing a bad job.” She sobbed. Tears ran down her face. The anxiety of the next contraction was on her mind.
“No-no! You’re having a baby, Maggie.” Eve said, cupping her head. “You're doing a good job. Say you're doing a good job.”
“Mnnhhhm-doing good job.”
“Again.”
“Ahhhhm doing a good jobbbbb-unnnnngggghh!” Her self affirmation was cut off by the onset of her next surge. With Maggie distracted, even just a little bit, her birth began to progress. The bulge inside spread to her entrance with every pulse closer to revealing her baby to a world outside of Maggie’s womb
Eve placed her hand in Maggie's lower stomach. Her hand sank well into her swollen uterus, surprising the two with how empty Maggie's womb already felt.
“Right here Maggie!”
Eve could feel Maggie's hips tremble with the effort. Her chubby pussy bulged around a round head. Her opening was the size of a softball.
Her eyes shot open with a deep breath as she leaned into Eve’s arms. Her slightly damp button up was still in arms reach. Eve wiped her lover’s forehead with the wet collar before Maggie turned to her with wide eyes. Her look of absolute vulnerability, her body submitting to the sensations within her.
Eve watched as Maggie's body opened up around the head. The baby that she saw inside of her slowly entering the world through Maggie's pussy. Maggie suddenly removed her lips from Eve’s face. The progression of her birth slowed again as the laboring mother reeled in Eve’s arms.
Eve reached between Maggie’s legs and felt at her flushed, swollen opening. Beyond the skin of her hips she felt the head parting her. Her once puffy folds now stretched with turgor around the massive head emerging from between her legs. “You're so tight.” Eve sighed, stroking the small part of the sphere engaged between her legs
She grunted questioningly when she felt the next stir begin within her. Her voice piqued as she felt her tissues begin to split with different parts of her body unprepared for the same action. Before the surge forced the body through her aching hole she felt Eve’s fingers lock around the head and the familiar pressure welled deep within her belly again.
“Let your body stretch, Maggie.” Her hands gripped onto Eve’s forearms and dug into her skin for any release for the pressure inside of her. She clung onto the last person in the world who could help her by the forearm and curled her knuckles into her
“But-but I need to push!” Eve touched Maggie's bulging, stretched skin. The feeling of muscle about to tear.
“Mnhhhgh I. Can’t. Stop it!”She looked at Eve with fury in her eyes. She had just found how she could finally bring her baby into the world.
“Please try your best.” Eve gave Maggie her hand and braced herself. She knew for this one second Maggie hated her. But if it could stop her from tearing and bleeding out onto the carpet before her she had to try
“OWWWWWGHHHH!” Maggie sucked the air sharply into her lungs as the contraction ended at the peak of the crown with the widest section of her baby's head stretched open her vagina. Her hands clenched over Eve’s palm with inhuman force. Eve bit her forearm as she bore only a fraction of the pain Maggie went through to deliver her child.
From beneath Eve’s fingers she could feel Maggie's pussy retract ready for the girth of the rest of the head. With plenty of the powerful contraction to go, Eve's jaw unclenched.
“PUSH!”
Her thighs spasmed with the enormous effort it took for her to deliver the head. Building to a peak, the forehead stretched Maggie out, climbing closer and closer to her body's limit. The crown caught in the tightness of her entrance.
Maggie took deep gasps as if she emerged from underwater.
“Can we kiss?” Maggie whined with her bottom lip pouted.
She could feel Maggie's body melt from under her. Their naked bodies mashed together while Maggie's baby emerged slowly. Their foreheads together while Maggie let out a shaky, but controlled exhale as if Eve's kiss breathed new life into her.
She whimpered with tears in her eyes. “Is it almost there?”
“One more push and the head is out!” Her core clenched with the next contraction. The pressure building against the head within her.
“ANNNNGH!” Maggie threw her head back as the head finally released with an audible pop and a squirt of fluids. Her legs jerked as her folds retracted down to the baby's brow.
It felt like the delivery was ripping apart her body. Exhaustion caught up to her legs and she felt her body fading.
“I need… Lie down…” She heaved. With Eve supporting all of her weight her body was now flat on its back. The danging head outside of her burned as she moved, not giving her a moment of respite.
Every breath was a lurch of her chest. She fought for every inch of her child's delivery. The moon was well above them now. The ceiling felt high and its walls vast, the chapel always had the ability to make her feel small.
“-aggie?” Eve's voice called out to her. She wasn't alone. She hadn't been alone for some time now, and soon, she would finally be able to hold her baby.
“Can I feel…?”
“Yeah!” Eve encouraged her. She excitedly guided her trembling hands between her own legs.
Maggie’s voice began to break before the words came out. “Oh my god!” She cried
Although she could feel the movement of the head as she touched it it was something that distinctly wasn't hers. Her child being born. Oddly shaped and wet. The more her fingertips graved the body sticking out of her she wilt little wispy strands move against her fingertips. The circular shape of a soft, tiny ear.
Her hands went to the outside of her vagina. The edge against her pussy from the shoulders parked right against her entrance.
“Hold… Hold the head.” Maggie slurred High off of adrenaline and elation while the woman she just made love to was delivering her baby. How Eve's careful hands felt against her body. Eve's tongue was at the corner of her lip in focus, rubbing the child between her legs between the contraction that was going to bring Maggie’s baby into the world.
“I want this moment to last forever.” She admitted. Eve met her gaze and nodded with a smile. Her legs shifted in discomfort. Moving before a contraction locked her into position
The body began to rotate, Maggie gasped as she felt limbs turn inside of her birth canal.
In contrast to the crown the base of the baby's face came out steadily against Maggie's pushes. More of the body emerged into Eve's hands.Maggie’ face scrunched Focus, controlled pushes as Maggie delivered the neck. The progress slowed as the shoulders engaged within her.
With the shoulder’s more than halfway out the baby nearly slid out with every breath. Eve supported the body while Maggie lifted the bottom of her thighs. Her chin dug into her chest and she bore down with one more contraction to feed the pressure that wanted to bring her baby into the world.
“HnnnnngggggHHHHH!!” Maggie cried as she pushed with as much energy as she could muster. It wasn’t much, but it was her own. The other shoulder popped free from her opening and Maggie was able to pull the baby from between Maggie's legs with no resistance.
A wet cough filled the room and cries filled the acoustics of the empty church. Eve held up Maggie’s child to show the mother in the moonlight. Tiny and perfect Eve wrapped her up in one one of the buttonups on the floor and dialed 911.
~
However discrete they tried to be, it was impossible for the others in the waiting room to ignore Eve seated before a police officer.
“To repeat, you’re reporting battery ”
Eve shook her head, wondering if her exhaustion made her hear the officer incorrectly. “They kept a pregnant woman from access to medical treatment. That has to be a charge, kidnapping, something like that?”
“Miss, that case will blow those church doors wide open, we just need your account to get our foot in the door.” The officer commented before taking a long sigh.
“We’ve been getting reports of abuse from alumni years after they’ve graduated. You’re the first personBetween you and me. I hope the charges stick.”
It felt like it had been an eternity since they got to the emergency room. The lack of news made her restless into the early hours of dawn. She stared at every head that popped in and out of the waiting room until one finally scanned the room
“Eve? She's ready for visitors!”
She followed closely, seeing other patients on their hospital beds. “You’re a really good friend.” The nurse reassured
“Yeah… friend…”
Their steps slowed and before she saw Maggie in bed with her baby in her arms.
“Mom and baby are doing fantastic. Isn't that right mom?” The bags under Maggie's eyes as many hands were around her helping the newborn latch to her nipple. She sighed in relief as she finally felt the baby cling to her and begin to feed. Her shoulders dropped as she saw Eve come to her side.
“We’ll let you two have some time! Get some rest when you can!”
“Ugh. They say that but they’re gonna come back in like an hour.” Maggie whined. Though sweaty and exhausted, the Maggie before her was a completely different woman.
“How’re you doing?” Eve asked as she leaned against the bed rails. Also exhausted from the events of the night.
“It feels like I just squeezed a basketball out of me. But…” She lifted her suckling child, reminding herself that the moment was real with her baby’s weight “She's so worth it.” Although there was nothing more Maggie wanted to do but sleep, one question kept repeating in her head.
“What now?”
“I was going to get a job and an apartment. One job gets us the room with plenty of money leftover.”
Maggie’s eyes were glazed in exhaustion. There was no point in being suave about it. “Maggie, live with me.” She reclined back in her bed, a lifetime of stress melted away knowing that the girl who took her away from the church wasn’t going anywhere.
“Here, I’ll take her. Go get some sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.” Eve didn’t have to tell her twice. In a moment Maggie fell into a deep sleep. Inside Eve’s arms she carried the product of Maggie’s sin. A precious new life that deserved all of the love their mother had to give. Though present for the last month of her pregnancy, Eve knew she loved this child, too.If the consequences of Eve’s sin were a child and their mother resting peacefully in bed next to her, surely sinning wasn’t as bad as the church led either woman to believe.
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