Glancing back, Sherlock gave a quick look at John who looked rather pained while doing all he could to stay calm. But of course John had a lot more to worry about. Instinctively, his arm was wrapped protectively around the large bump that contained his and Sarah's second child; a girl this time. She had already faced death three times in the past few minutes (once being his own fault...) and she wasn't even born yet; he wasn't about to let her face it again.
The head popped out and she pulled against her bindings as the shoulder stretched her even further. She whimpered, laying heavily upon the mattress. Seeing the girl's strength leaving her the woman unwrapped the cord from the infant's head and grabbed it's neck. She began pulling the babe up and down, furthering it down the birth canal. The girl panted as the woman did so. "Oh! Oh!" She cried, feeling the infant move within her. Unable to fight she groans as the shoulders divide her more. With a scream the child is renched out, allowing the remaining fluid to expel from her. Her opening burns and is still freely bleeding when the woman cradles the infant. She smiles, discovering the sex and holds it up for the others to see, careful of the cord. "Male!" she exclaims and the men cheer. The infant wails as it's placed upon the new mother to be cleaned. She could only lay and pant in exhaustion as the woman smiled upon her. "You did well," she congratulates her, "Definitely a keeper."

Niso gripped the pregnant male's shoulders to keep him calm, nodding. "Your water just broke Francis, just breathe and push." He said soothingly, reaching down to rub at Francis' stomach. Wordlessly, Niso guided Francis, leaning him as far back as possible before his head was under water to give as much space needed for the baby to pass through. "You have to push on the contractions!" He stressed, looking down at Francis' swollen stomach and frowning worriedly. Francis whined and gripped Niso's hand tightly, terrified. He was there for both his labours and he'd seen what birth was like. "Nnnhh...N-No.." He shook his head weakly, "Make it stop!..Hurts!" His anus felt so full, stuffed painfully with pressure he couldn't release. Sweat poured from his brow. He thrashed in the waters, hands frantically clutching at the rims of the tub for support while he hoisted his torso out of the bath, and strained. "Ahh...ahh...H-help..!" Francis cried out, groaning as the baby's head engaged his rectum, shredding the muscular tissues.


Merlin eyed the angled seat of the birthing stool with misgivings. Yes, he knew that it was supposed to ease a woman’s confinement but he wasn’t really a woman. Still, the child would come in much the same way. He just wasn’t sure he had the strength to endure the contractions and keep himself upright as the stool was exactly that-a stool. It had no back, no support of any kind. He knew that usually a laboring mother would lay her legs along the flared wings of the seat and rock herself back and forth until the child came but usually a midwife was there to use her body to strengthen the straining mother. Who would help him? Gaius was amazingly vigorous for a man of his age but he wasn’t really sturdy enough to take Merlin’s weight for that long.
A Beautiful BirthAnother powerful contraction took hold of her – the strongest one yet.  She gasped at the intensity of it and breathed deeply into it, letting out a low moan as she relaxed her chin against her chest.  She was leaning back against her husband in an inflatable kiddie pool of body temperature-warm water which came up to just under her naked breasts.

WARNING: This story contains male pregnancy, female pregnancy, minor language, and extremely descriptive, if not graphic, labour and birthing scenes. If you are not a fan of any of these subjects, than I would prefer if you not comment on my story, just to start flame wars and explain to the world how certain things, like mpreg, are disgusting and sinful. That is only your opinion, and there are some people that actually enjoy things like this, so please keep your opinions to yourself.

As soon as the scalpel finished its mutilation, he registered the sensation of the vacuum being placed on his daughters head, the movements tearing his already brutalized opening. The doctor started pulling without even waiting for a contraction and the hands were back on his belly, crushing his insides without care. Each compression sent another flash of agony through his anatomy but he couldn’t do anything other than scream for mercy.
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