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.
There are a pair of grogeous teen girls who live next door to me. Lauren and Amy were the same age as me and we've all been through school together. As we have grown up and hit our teens, I've found myself sexual attracted to the girls, and they also felt the same way. During our early teens we spent most of the time doing the "You show yours, I'll show mine" situations, but never had sex.
"Her name." John explains. "Sarah and I decided that we were going to name her Nora." And he held his breath in wait of Sherlock's response. He remembered the grief that Sherlock had given him when he and Sarah were deciding on names for their son, Rory; how they couldn't have come up with something more unique. This coming from a man named Sherlock who has a brother named Mycroft... Sometimes it was nice to be normal. And darn it if he was going to let Sherlock change...

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.
Jeremy sat at the table in silence, Alyssa, one of his best friends sitting across from him. He had been against the blind date from the beginning since he was worried that his nerves would cause him to go into labour, and that it would force poor Matthew, his date, to take him home or to the hospital before they even got to know each other. He was already a week past his due date, and he knew it wasn't smart to be out and about in his condition, but he also felt as if he would go insane if all he
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.
“NNNGhh..” Francis felt himself opening more and more, his skin stretching over the baby's head and he panted haggardly as it slipped out further than before. Suddenly the burning became unbearable and he felt his anal muscles recoil while his inner sphincter wrapped tightly around the baby's neck. Tears sprang unbidden to his eyes and he squeezed Niso's hand.
Mpreg Part 1/3a teenager girl named Vicky was ready to mingle. She has been wanting to have a boyfriend ever since her friends got one. A teenager boy named Brett was pregnant. He was at his first stage and 2nd month of pregnancy. They were both at a club when they bumped into each other. Brett didn't drink alcohol instead he just danced. His belly bump wasn't noticeable at all. They both danced when Vicky tricked over someone's foot but was caught by Brett. They offered each other's numbers to get to know each other. Vicky fell in love with Brett's brown hair, green eyes, tall figure. Brett fell in love with Vicky's blonde hair, cute dimples, and nice attitude. They started dating each other. Vicky noticed Brett's belly getting bigger every week and decided to ask him. "Brett, is everything okay? Lately you have been gaining wait." "O-oh. Uhm. I guess it's time to tell you. Promise you will still stay by my side no matter what?" "Of course, what is it?" "I-I'm.......pregnant. I got to go." "Wait! Y
Not Your Typical PrisonerThe gavel came down with a loud thud. "The defendant, Jonathan Randoll, is sentenced to a 16 year prison sentence without chance of parole." I looked at my feet thinking of the life that would be wasted. At only 18, I wouldn't get out until I was 34 years old. It all started when I was growing up in a tough neighborhood. Desperate for protection, I joined a gang and was forced to do some initiation crimes. Over time I had been caught stealing and this was the third strike, meaning that I was not going to be spared when it came to sentencing. I knew I had to keep my poker face, though, because some of the gang members were in the courtroom and I couldn't show my fear, my frustration with where my life had gone.
Mike was down on his luck. Being 21, without a job and kicked out of home when his parents had enough of him, he was spending most of his time hitch hiking from town to town doing small jobs for some spare cash. He was a relatively thin boy with dark hair. He could be a model if he paid attention to the groom plus if he had more money to by better clothes.
I’m a young, first time mom, heavily pregnant with triplets. I arrive at the hospital in early labor, deposit my husband in the waiting room, and am shaved, given an enema, and catheterized before any medication is administered. Once the meds start to take effect, my legs are strapped into stirrups and my arms tied to the side of the bed. For the next twenty hours, I writhe and scream in agony as the contractions get increasingly stronger. It feels like by body is being ripped apart but I’m too out of it to remember my own name, much less than I’m pregnant and in labor. The nurses mostly ignore my crying and moaning, casually chatting about their weekend plans as they make sure my restraints are still in place despite my desperate bucking. 
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