WARNING:This short story contains some sensitive subjects. If you don't prefer Yaoi, Descriptive Sex Scenes, or Mpreg, this is not the story for you, and you have been warned. Also, if you do not like this sort of thing, I would ask you not to comment just to state this fact. Keep it to yourself, because you chose to read it, even after reading the warning.
Even drugged out my mind, this is the worst pain I’ve ever experienced. My poor, ravaged hole is forced to stretch even further as his fat wrist widens the tear at the bottom. My overworked cervix is still contracting even as he digs around in my uterus for what seems like hours. I’m shrieking, pleading for him to stop ripping me apart. I just know I’m about to die – and I’d welcome it if it means an end to the agony. Finally, he tugs the baby out and, in my medicated state, I allow myself to imagine it might be over. That fantasy is quickly dashed as he pushes his hand back inside and starts digging around for the placentas. I’m shaking so hard the nurses have to hold me down as he roots around in my wrecked pussy for another 15 minutes. By the time he’s done I’m almost unconscious from the long labor, the pain, the whole horrible ordeal. The last thing I hear before passing out is a nurse commenting on my bruised, gaping cunt, saying that it will definitely never be the same.
Mpreg Part2/3Brett woke up and saw her sleeping. He felt better but whenever he moved his belly jolted with pain. He was afraid something bad happened to his baby. He set aside the thought and brought a blanket and draped Vicky. He went into the kitchen and was starting to make dinner when his belly was tight. He rubbed it to ease the pain but it still hurt every now and then. Vicky woke up to smell burning. She quickly got up and looked around through the thin layer of steam. She saw Brett laying on the kitchen floor coughing. She ran over to him and checked if he was okay. She saw the stove burning on fire. She grabbed the fire extinguisher and blew out the stove. After a few minutes the steam was starting to go away. She helped him on the couch and noticed he was in pain coming from his stomach. She massaged his belly and looked up at him. "DONT DO ANY WORK!! From now on I will!! You got me WORRIED!!" Vicky looks away and starts crying. "V-Vicky. I'm sorry. I just wanted to help." "Well don't."
"Lay one of the towels...on the floor..." was the next instruction from John, his breathing deepening as the next urges started to build. Sherlock had just managed to spread the towel out when John could no longer fight and gave into the urge to push, his body on autopilot now as it directed his actions. Instinctively, his hands reached for Sherlock's arms and sensing that this was what John needed now more than anything, he allowed John's fingers to squeeze painfully tight into his shoulders. John's green eyes then match up with his own gray ones and lock, showing unrelenting focus for nearly a full minute as he forced the baby further down.
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.
On the other hand, it felt so fucking good. He’d not been aware enough – or too focused on other agonies elsewhere – to realize they’d put some sort of pump on his cock and it was milking him like a farmer’s hand late for a date. At some point the nurse, the one who never had wiped that stupid grin off her face, had started gently massaging his swollen balls and it was both the best and worst sensation ever.