#forceps

[wikipediapictures]

Surgical instrument

[vorpalfae]

[heretek-birth]

A Hard Forceps Birth

Imagine you're deep in labor with your enormous, oversized, posterior baby.

This hasn't come as a surprise. You've known what was going to happen for months now, and you and your partner have planned for this extensively. Still, though, it's one thing to make plans for this in the cold light of day, and quite another to actually endure it.

"Theeeeere you go, just like that for me." He supports you from your side, holding you close while you moan through a punishing contraction. "Just let your body open up. You're doing so good right now." A C-section is off the table, so you're definitely going to need forceps. Still, you don't need them just yet, so, for now, you can labor in your own birth suite before you need to go to the delivery room.

"Nnnnnh- Fuck- Pressure-" You feel your contraction peak as a bowling ball settles between your hips.

"Alright, spread your legs nice and wide for me." Your partner settles himself between your thighs as that weight drops even more, until it feels like your pelvis is splitting apart.

"Now, give me a hard push- I need a hard, hard push, okay?" He presses back on your legs, and you curl forward and scream with the effort as you give in to your body's urges. "There you go. And again for me-" You curl forward again, giving everything you have and then some to bear down on the huge mass in your hips. "And again-" More screaming, more pushing, more of the same desperate struggle through the overwhelming pressure. "Again-" You push one more time, fighting hard to move your baby down just a little more, bearing down with every bit of your strength until you slump back on the bed at the end of the contraction.

You push just like that through the next contraction, and the next, and the next, and the next… You struggle for what feels like hours as he mops your sweat and kisses your forehead and holds your hand and tells you again and again just how well you're doing, that you're so, so perfect like this. You feel the endless pressure crash over you more times than you can count, like your womb is trying to crush you to death, like your hips are so full you're about to crack open, like you're pushing so hard you're going to turn inside out. He presses his fingers inside you over and over again, reporting with excitement on every millimeter of progress as you work your baby down until, finally, he watches your lips start to bulge just a little. He spreads you open with his fingers and-

"Oh my God, I can see the head!"

You fall back against the pillow in relief. This is it! You're doing it! You were so afraid you wouldn't be able to get this baby out on your own, but now- "Alright, push again for me." You curl forward with renewed energy, determined to push as long and as hard as it takes to have your baby right here. "Good! Good! Come on, hard push for me!" You cry out again as you bear down onto the mass in your hips, as you give in completely to the huge pressure deep inside you, struggling as long and as hard as you can until your body forces you to breathe.

"There you go! Push again for me!" You give another huge effort, bearing down with everything you have while he watches the head intently for any sign of movement. "One more, okay? Come on, have our baby!" You throw your head back with the effort, squeezing your eyes shut and gritting your teeth as you try to force that huge weight in your hips just a little farther down. You don't even have to notice the look of sympathy on his face to know you haven't gotten anywhere - you can feel the head wedged deep inside you, stuck, if anything, even worse than before.

Still, the thought of the "delivery room" makes your stomach turn. You know what's in there. Stirrups, drapes, catheters and masks, forceps, scissors, and needles, bright lights and antiseptic and harsh metal. If you give in, you'll be spread-eagled, cut, pried open, and- Yeah, you don't want to go in there. You shake your head to his questioning eyebrow.

"Alright. Get these wide open for me." He presses your legs back as far as they'll go, and you hold them there while you feel the pressure build to more than you can stand. "Give me big pushes now. Hard as you can, okay?" You do. You push long and hard, again and again, struggling through the whole contraction without feeling the head move a bit. You fight to catch your breath and, before you know it, that pressure is crushing you again, taking your breath away as you desperately bear down against the obstacle lodged in your hips. Your belly clamps down and lets go and clamps down one more time as you pull back your legs, pushing with tears streaming from your eyes as you feel every bit of your effort ultimately wasted, as you feel your baby's head stuck hard inside you no matter how much you push.

"Alright." Your partner takes your hand tightly in his. "I think you're ready now-"

"NO! No- Please- I can't-" You can feel tears running from your eyes.

"Shhhhhhh, you're okay, you're okay." He pulls your head against his chest, and you can feel his fingers in your hair. "I'm here for you, but this head's just not going to come out on its own." You choke out a sob against his neck. "I'm sorry. You're going to need the delivery room eventually." Another cry. "But we can push right here as long as you need to. We won't go until you're ready, okay?"

No! It's not okay! It's the opposite of okay! Why can't he see that you don't want- "Nnnnnh-" You're cut off by another surge of pressure as your belly contracts again.

"Come on, hard pushes for me. Let it alllllll out." Your body doesn't give you a choice as you bear down, a feral animal giving in to instinct as you struggle with your stuck baby. You're no better with the next contraction either, giving a huge desperate push down into your hips that gets you exactly nowhere, nor with the one after that while your partner waits patiently, telling you, "Go ahead and push, we're not in a hurry", and "Don't worry, we can take as long as you need."

You hang your head forward and pull your legs back, fighting your way through the contractions one after the other. You feel pain and cramping, then pressure, so much fucking pressure, and then you push, and scream, and push again, and scream again. Then, a few quick moments to catch your breath, to feel yourself tired and soaked in sweat, clinging tight to his hand before it all starts again. You just want the nightmare to end. You'll do whatever it takes to get your baby out, anything to stay out of the delivery room, but there's nothing you can do. You feel the contractions come and the pressure crush you and you pushpushpushpushpush with everything you have, but the head stays right where it is.

Nothing you do seems to help. You try squatting and feel the pressure get somehow even worse as the head rides down in your pelvis, as you push again and again with brutal, uncontrolled fury. For a while it feels almost like you're making progress, so you suffer your way through the endless, punishing contractions, squatting and pushing like your life depends on it- at least until your partner checks you and finds out that all you've been doing is wedging the head inside you even more. You try pushing on your hands and knees, feeling your belly weighing you down like a stone. You try standing to push, and find that your legs can't even support your weight. You try getting on your back again, and find that your baby is just as stuck as before.

You're not sure how long it goes on, the endless haze of cramping and pressure and pushing, growing more and more exhausted with each desperate, struggling effort, but eventually things reach a breaking point.

"Hey-" Your partner nudges you back to awareness. "Look at me." He manages to catch your gaze. "You need the delivery room." At this point, you're too tired to argue.

"I'll call ahead - we'll need a wheelchair, too." Fortunately, there's one nearby for just such an occurrence. You moan with discomfort as he helps you into the wheelchair and you feel it force your legs closer together, and he can see the dread radiating off you as you make the short trip to the delivery room. "Shhhhh, you're okay. You're okay." You sink back in fear as you catch sight of the doors. "You're going to meet our baby soon! Just think of that, okay? You're going to meet our baby." He gives your hand a short squeeze before he wheels you into the room.

It's just like you expected - a large obstetrical table at the center of the room, a spotlight pointed directly between the stirrups, trays of gleaming metal instruments, the doctor and nurses in surgical scrubs, and you the star of the show. "Alright, we'll get you set up on the table here and then we can get started!" The nurses get started on the preparations, and they go just as you feared. Stirrups, drapes, mask, catheter, spotlight, more and more restraints… You catch a brief glimpse of the doctor, an older man beneath his mask and gown, as he runs through your chart. "Let's see here… Significant macrosomia, persistent occiput posterior expected - and confirmed - scheduled forceps delivery, pushed for… how long?" "About four hours since the head came down." Your partner checks the time, and the doctor raises his eyebrows. "This is pretty much a textbook 'undeliverable', but I'm sure you had your reasons."

The nurses finish their preparations, spreading the stirrups wide apart as the doctor approaches. You can feel his gloved finger trail along your lips for a moment before pushing inside, feeling for the position of the head. Apparently satisfied, he reaches for the forceps, and you watch as he takes a moment to coat them in lube before he takes his position between your legs.

"Alright, just take a deep breath in-" You hear your partner's voice beside you as you feel a burning, stinging coldness between your legs. You can feel everything as the doctor levers the hard metal inside you, pushing in deep and sweeping into place. "And let it out, there you go." You feel weak, shaky as you grip his hand for dear life. "And breathe in-" More stinging pain, more hard metal pressing, twisting deep inside, sweeping into position. "And out." You let out your breath, and-

"Oh, FUCK-" You feel the blades lock together around the head, forcing you open somehow even wider inside. "I can't-"

"Shhhhhhhh. Yes you can. I know you can, okay? Just a little longer." Your tear-filled eyes meet his for a moment, until you're interrupted by the cramping in your belly.

"Alright. Hard push with this one." The doctor tugs gently on the head as one of the nurses adjusts the stirrups a little wider. "Hard push for me now."

You feel the fullness in your hips finally overwhelm you as you curl forward and bear down against the crushing, unbearable pressure of your contraction. You don't even have the breath to scream as you feel yourself slowly opening up, as you feel the head bulling forward bit by bit, burning more and more with the doctor's steady pulling.

"Come on. Cooooome on. Have our baby now." Your partner grips your hand tightly, and you do your best to focus on his words, on his touch, rather than what you can feel between your legs.

You can feel the pressure crushing you, making you drive down against the baby stuck inside you with all your might. You push with a fierce, desperate intensity, gritting your teeth through the burn that grows worse and worse as the harsh metal tools drag your baby forward. Eventually, your concentration fails, and you cry out as the head forces your lips apart wider and wider, as you're forced to stretch so unbearably far for your oversized child.

"Push through it, okay? Just push through it! You're doing so good right now!"

As though you could do anything else, with your belly crushing the breath out of you, with the huge baby wedged deep in your pelvis, with every cell in your body screaming at you to push and push and push even more. You scream again as you give everything you have to try to get your baby out, fighting against the stirrups and the straps holding you down as you feel yourself pried open even further before you collapse onto the bed again.

"There you go, theeeeeere you go." Your partner's voice cuts through your weeping as the contraction fades. "Just hold on, okay? I know you can do this." You're not so sure as you fight to catch your breath, as you tuck your head beneath his chin and press your face against his chest, but your body isn't giving you a choice. All too soon, you feel that familiar cramping tightness, feel that same desperate pressure building up in your hips.

"Alright, push just like that with the next one." You can hear the voice coming from between your spread thighs, see the light glinting off the metal wedged so tightly inside you. "That's it, hard as you can. I'm going to pull-" You let out a cry of pain as the burning between your legs flares all at once. "Push. You need to push now."

You grit your teeth as the pressure finally overwhelms you, screaming internally as you feel the forceps steadily prying you open more and more, as you lose any semblance of control, bearing down on instinct as your opening catches fire. All you can do is just try to let it happen, to try to focus on the warmth of your partner's hand, on his words in your ear as your lips stretch and stretch and burn for the head.

"I know it hurts, I know. Just have our baby, I'm right here for you."

You can't make it stop. Can't slow it down. All you can do is hold on and try not to scream. You're almost doubled over with the force of your pushing, with your body's involuntary, desperate effort to force your child out right this second, feeling the relentless, steady pull of the forceps dragging the head out towards the world. You can feel the fire catching between your legs as your most sensitive place stretches wider and wider with no end in sight.

"Little more now, just a little more. I know you can do this."

Eventually, your resolve breaks down. You scream, long and wordless even as you still can't help but bear down with all your might. It's all just too much, the unbearable, agonizing pressure, the brutal cramping in your midsection, the inferno growing worse and worse as you're mercilessly pried open with cold, clinical efficiency. It's just more than you can take as you cry out again and again, as you push and scream and cling on for dear life, feeling the head open you more than you could possibly imagine until your contraction finally lets you go.

"PLEASE- PLEASE- I CAN'T-" You give your partner a wild, desperate look. "IT HURTS- I CAN'T-"

"Shhhhhhhh, you're okay, I've got you. You're going to have our baby now."

The doctor keeps a tight grip on the forceps and stops the head from receding. You fight to catch your breath while you're forced to stretch so wide open, struggling through every bit of the burning those harsh metal tools inflict on you. Through it all, the doctor can see your clit as stiff and ready as ever, standing proud over the stretched-tight circle of your lips around the head.

"Here we go now-" The doctor watches your belly start to harden once again. "You should crown with this contraction."

Relief and dread wash over you in equal measure. One one hand, you're that much closer to the end. On the other, this is going to get worse before it gets better. In the end, it doesn't matter - your baby is coming out no matter what you think. You feel your partner's hand tighten around yours as the pressure builds again, as your belly does its best to crush you once more.

"Alright, hard push for me now-" You start bearing down long before he says anything. "There we go. Let's have this baby."

"BURNING- FUCK- IT BURNS-" You feel the doctor start to pull with the forceps, feel yourself forced open wider and wider around the huge, hard mass of the head, feel your lips stretching more and more and more, pried open mercilessy no matter how much it hurts. You try to fight against the restraints, to squirm away, to buck your hips, but it doesn't matter. You can't stop pushing, can't stop stretching, can't stop screaming- "MAKE IT STOP! PLEASE!"

"You're tearing just a little now. We'll take this niiiiice and slow, okay?"

His words fall on deaf ears as you push with everything you have to just get this over with, to just have your baby whatever the consequences, but the doctor keeps a tight grip on the forceps, easing the head out of you inch by brutal inch. "GET IT OUT- GET IT OUT- GET IT OUT-" You scream, and struggle, and bear down as hard as you can, but none of it makes a difference - you're forced all the way open as the doctor pulls your baby out of you in a textbook medical procedure.

"Annnnnnnd, that's a crown! Nice and slow, just like that."

"GETITOUTGETITOUTGETITOUTGETITOUT-" You push again and again in huge, desperate surges, struggling in uncontrolled, animal panic as you feel yourself slowly splitting open, as you beg and scream and fight against the forceps delivering your baby. The head is barely moving inside you- the doctor maneuvers as carefully as he can, leaving you stuck stretching and burning and crying out again and again at the endless, inescapable ring of fire.

"Come on, just a little more now. Just a little bit more."

"GET IT OUUUUUUUUUT-" You writhe on the bed, frantic and desperate as you bear down like your life depends on it, pushing until your breath fails you, then pushing again, and again, and again. "PLEASE! GET IT OUT!" You nearly crush your partner's hand in a white-knuckled grip as your entire world shrinks down to the searing, blazing circle between your legs, to your frantic, futile effort to just split your lips open and get the head out while your baby is slowly, methodically extracted.

"Almost there now- Allllllmost-"

"PLEASE- PLEASE- PLEASE- PLEASE-" You're reduced to a begging, sobbing wreck, pushing involuntarily with your legs held open as wide as they'll go, a whole roomful of people staring intently at the titanic bulge forcing you open, at the medical instruments making you cry out again and again. "PLEASE JUST GET IT OUT-" You feel the head pulled forward so, so slowly, just a little bit at a time, dragged out of your most sensitive place in an endless, burning agony. You throw your head back and give one long, wordless scream as the doctor pulls again, as the forceps hold you all the way open, as-

"And, there's the head!"

"That's it! You did it! You did so, so good!" You collapse back against your partner, sobbing in relief. He takes you in his arms and you press your head against his chest, doing your best to shut out the world for just a little while.

The world, though, isn't quite done with you yet.

You hear a click the doctor unlocks the forceps, and you wince just a little as you feel him probe a finger around the edge of your opening. "Alright, looks like… bilateral labial tears, then a midline tear as well." You don't want to think about that right now. "They don't look too bad, though." His finger probes deeper, and you wince again. "And, nice rotation from the shoulders- We should be good to go!"

You try to hide from this, to just bury your face in your partner's arms and escape, but your body won't let you. No matter what you want, you feel the next contraction coming, feel the pressure start to crush you again. You just want this over with. With a few fresh tears in your eyes, you curl forward once more as you give in to the pressure.

"This is it! Push, and have our baby!"

You push. You squeeze your eyes shut and grit your teeth and push with furious, desperate intensity. You feel the shoulders shift forward, feel them bulge outwards more and more, feel them stuck there for a single, horrifying moment-

"Alright, let's have these shoulders."

You feel the burning explode between your legs as the doctor pulls down on the head, growing worse and worse as you struggle with the size of your baby. "GET IT OUT!" You feel yourself stretching even more as the upper shoulder comes, forcing you wide open as the doctor starts to pull up. "GET! IT! OUT!" You push desperately as you feel the lower shoulder coming, pushing with everything you have as you feel a fire blazing between your legs. "AAAAAAAAA-" The shoulders come slow as you scream your way through the pain, as you bear down with a huge, final effort. Your body jerks as you give one last push for the hips before you're left shuddering and gasping and so, so blessedly empty.

After a moment, you feel something heavy and warm and wet placed on your chest.

"Oh my God!"

You open your eyes, and look down to see your baby. Neither of you say anything as you stare in wonder at the life you created together, but you don't need to. You're both already counting down the days until you'll do this again.

Inspired by and written for @bulgingpushh

[dreadclinic]

Gave myself an inspection today, wore latex gloves as i used a vibe with a speculum inside me stretched achingly wide. Underwent a breeding procedure with a tentacle dildo attachment on my fucking machine and then made myself give birth. I used an inflatable toy inside me, inflating it larger and larger so it ached so badly and stung as i tried to push. I slid in one blade of my forceps underneath the inflatable plug and i used it to move it inside, aching so badly. I used my vibe until i couldn't help but push, and i tugged on the forcep with my muscular contractions so when i came i gave birth to the toy and the forcep with it. so good TT_TT my abdomen is so achy now after my invasive procedure c:

[longhardtransitionreturns]

An Accidentally Viral Birth

Author's Note: This is 18+ kink content. This is fetish fiction about a very difficult hospital birth that results in injury to the birthing person.

Violet had made over half a million in sponsorship deals during the nine months of her pregnancy, hawking prenatal gummies and morning sickness remedies then baby clothes and hot nursery items to her followers right up until the first contractions started. She’d done it in her trademark raven braid and full face of designer makeup, modeling maternity outfits in between bump checks in increasingly tight Lululemon leggings. 

She spent so much time, in fact, on her brand deals and remodeling the nursery – sponsored by Sherwin Williams –  and pretaping content to fill the (surely short) recovery time after birth, that she hadn’t thought much of the actual birth at all. Sure, she’d made a video about her intent to birth naturally and to breastfeed but her mind had mostly been on the after, when she had to quickly get back in shape to maintain her follower counts while also taking care of a newborn. 

Which is probably why, after only dilating 6 inches in 32 natural, epidural free hours, she was on the brink of losing her mind. Exhausted, in what felt like endless agony, she also felt like she’d tried every position to lessen the pain and the only conclusion she came to was that, no what position she was in, the pain was clearly going to last forever. 

Her husband and fellow influencer, Jonathan Charles, spent the hours while his partner labored going live on TikTok, answering followers questions, while Violet whimpered pitifully in the background. But, almost to her surprise, he spent plenty of time with his phone put away in his chest pocket, he sat by her side and experienced labor with her. He even got the nurse to show him how to check how far dilated she was.

In the middle of the 34th hour, Violet’s contractions starting ramping up to a level of pain she previously hadn’t know possible. Her back was lanced through with a hot spike of agony every time a contraction peaked and they were lasting longer now, two minutes at one count. She got about 30 seconds of relief before another one rolled right on top of it and she was screaming again. 

“Oh, God, it hurts, it hurts, God, help me please,” she moaned, curling her body on its side the best she could around her huge bump and her painfully swollen breasts. She’d kept a sports bra on until now, under her hospital gown. Up until hour 25 she’d been able to film short updates for her followers about the progress of her labor and wanted to keep it somewhat dignified.

Now, though, in the throes of transition, she didn’t give a shit what she looked like. Her makeup was smeared across her red, sweaty face, her hair in disarray. And suddenly, at the end of another blindingly long and painful contraction, she needed her bra off. She couldn’t take the feel of it for another second. 

“Jonathan, get this bra off me now,” she bellowed, and he had to put his phone in his shirt pocket to come and carefully untie her hospital gown, slip it down her shoulders, and unclasp the fastener. Her breasts, a surgically inclined DD, spilled over on to her massive orb of a stomach, her huge areolas dark and rippling with the weight of the milk inside. 

He couldn’t resist a quick feel of the left one, under the swell, a quick finger across her nipple. It was like he’d struck her the way her body bucked in his arms. She let out a weary, agonized moan as her hand flew to her belly. 

She was soon screeching as she doubled over, suffering the most intense contraction yet. She sobbed as it lingered, begging for pain relief, for someone to pull the baby out of her, for merciful death.

As the pain ebbed slightly, her husband whispered a soft apology into her hair and she clutched the mattress with both hands, deep sobs wracking her body. 

On the next contraction she felt an enormous shift as the baby abruptly dropped into her birth canal. She let out a cry when the sudden pressure settled violently in her bottom. 

“I need to push, she declared, the impulse now so intense she couldn’t imagine anything else ever existed. Nurses scurried around her, putting her legs in stirrups, taking the table out from underneath, and preparing sheets and towels for the birth. “I’m gonna push now, OH MY GOD MY ASS!!”

Her experience pushing was a cruel one, lasting almost an hour against what was becoming clear was a baby that was too large for the passage. Every time she pushed it was like the bones in her pelvis creaked in warning. She was starting to drift in and out of consciousness as the pain assailed her, weak from laboring and then pushing for so long. 

Finally, the doctor sat down near her head, got her attention, and told her she had two options: forceps or an emergency c-section. She was too out of it from pain and exhaustion to really understand her options but her husband weighed in, telling her it would be better for views if she was awake right after the birth rather than recovering from surgery. 

So she signed the forms necessary for the intervention and zoned out in a haze of pain as her body was prepped for the procedure. Her pushes had become ineffective and it was agonizing to have to endure the contractions with no way to give in to the urge to push.

She was fully naked now, her huge breasts splayed across her chest as she was tilted backward so the stirrups could be adjusted higher. An oxygen mask was placed gently across her face as a nurse explained what would happen next: the numbing then the episiotomy, the way the doctor would place the forceps into her cervix around the baby’s head and pull as she pushed. She’d deliver the placenta, get a husband’s stitch, and be set to go before her 8pm scheduled live. Or so she planned out in her head. 

The nurse held her hand as she whined when the needle went in the number her for the cut. She grimaced when the scalpel cut into her skin; she was numb but it still felt weird knowing he was slicing into her pussy. 

The positioning of the first forcep was, perhaps, the most excruciating thing she’d experienced until now. Her hips and pelvis felt like they were going to snap and there was no room in her stuffed hole with the baby in there. She struggled against the pain, forcing the nurses to strap her into the stirrups and hold her arms down. 

When the doctor was finally able to start pulling, Violet screamed more than she pushed as the doctor worked to free the huge baby. He was finally able to move it down just above her lips in a tug that led to her immediately being hit with the ring of fire. She bucked her body back against the sudden pain and popped the forceps free of her opening in the process. 

She was a sobbing, agonized mess as the nurse explained she had to push the baby the rest of the way out. Jonathan was at her head, hand on her shoulders, whispering encouragement when the next contraction hit. 

She tucked her chin to her chest and bore down into her bottom, screaming at the way it stretched her skin to the limit. It went on like that for 4 or 5 pushes before she turned her exhausted face up to Jonathan and pleaded with him to help her. 

“I can’t do it, babe. He’s too big. I’m in so much pain, she moaned. “Please help me. I can’t do it.”

He patted her shoulder comfortingly as another contraction started building and she was taken by the surge of pain, wailing her effort. Her mighty push inched the baby through her opening, his face wedged suddenly, very painfully against her clitoris. 

“Oh my God, my clitoris! Holy fuck my clitoris hurts so bad!” She flailed on the bed, trying to nudge the baby off the poor little nub. She wailed her partner’s name as another contraction took her and she started moaning once again.

At what looked like the peak of the pain, he reached out and tweaked her left nipple. Hard. 

It had the same effect as it had earlier. The contraction doubled in intensity and Violet suddenly felt like she was breaking in half when the force of it propelled her baby’s head out of her pussy with an ominous cracking sound. She knew immediately the severity of what had just happened. 

“MY PUSSY BROKE! OH MY GOD, I FELT MY PUSSY BREAK!”

The next few minutes were a blur of doctors and nurses rushing to get the baby out of Violet as quickly as possible. She was splayed in the middle of the hive of activity, eyes glassy and a large, bloody head hanging from her swollen, ravaged pussy. Her tits bounced listlessly as the doctors struggle to free the shoulders. The sound she makes when it’s finally pulled from her broken pelvis, through the deep tears through her and anus and clitoris that resulted from the effort it took to get the shoulders out, was like nothing the even the most veteran of medical staff in the room had ever heard. 

Jonathan, relegated to the edge of the room, watched while the medical team assessed the wounds to his wife gaping sex and prepared to help her deliver the placenta. In his chest pocket, there were now 75,000 viewers who’d watched the whole ordeal live on his channel. The comments were full of people exclaiming how the moment the baby shot out of her was the hottest thing they’d ever seen. 

He didn't know he was becoming even more of a legend as he kept the live going while Violet cried while the placenta was delivered and pleaded for someone to give her something for the pain in her pussy before they wheeled her up to surgery.

In the end, he would never be able to get the brand deals his wife did, the following he developed the day his first child was born too niche and taboo for advertisers to want to be seen trying to reach. But he’d ride on the fame on the internet for years as the man who livestreamed his wife's agonizing delivery and broke her pussy when he tweaked her tit while she was crowning.

[kinsectz]

Earwigs have built in weaponry from birth called forceps!!!

[fyeahsurgery]

Nemitz, Renee. Surgical Instrumentation: an Interactive Approach. 3rd ed., Elsevier, 2019.

Anatomy of instruments! Notice how scissors do not have ratchets. Scissors don't lock.

[inbredfawn]

vv.