Lauren winced as she took off her bra and sighed once she was free of it. She made a mental note to go out the next day and by a maternity bra- her breasts were steadily growing already in her 19th week of her pregnancy. They were already heavier than she was used to, and just big enough to make her old B cup bras feel uncomfortable. It was to the point where she was ready to renounce bras all together, but some instinct in her warned that she may not feel that way in the later months to come, so she would keep wearing them.

Man why isn't anyone here? Oh well I will just have fun by myself with my soon to be born baby./She went into the water where only her feet were getting soaked. She went deeper into the water where the water went up to her chest. It was cool and fun for her until she started getting contractions./Ow! Ow baby Delia what's wrong?! Ung!/She stood there at her place and hunched clutching her stomach. The contractions grew worse and worse by the minute. She tried to get to shore but stumbled as she moved from the waves pushing her back./Come on you can do it Athena. Get to shore and have your baby./As she went where the water only went up to her hips a sudden PPP was heard and her water broke. Her stomach got tense sending a huge painful co
Sherlock's heart lept into his throat. This wasn't supposed to happen. John's due due was still three weeks away and he had already from day one made perfectly clear that he didn't want to be anywhere near when 'it' decided to make its appearance. "I...I'll drive you to St. Bart's..." he stammered, unsuccessfully hiding the trace of fear in his voice.
WARNING: This short story contains Minor Language, Mpreg, and Descriptive Labour and Birth Scenes. If you do not prefer any of these,  than this is not the story for you, and I would recommend that you not read it. Especially if all you wish to do is comment on how much you think Mpreg is disgusting and wrong. If you have anything against this story, you can note me. I would prefer not to have comments that do nothing but start flame wars.
Her stomach cramped as if answering Tina's cries. She whimpered softly, "No, not yet." The sound of unlocking doors caught her attention and she tried to stand, to be defiant in the face of those who held her key to freedom. However, the way her back was gnawing her today, she could only lean against her cool walls. A group of her kinappers walked past her cell towards the wailing woman. Only one stopped before her. His sly eyes looked her up in down, studying her. A sickening smile came to his face when he noticed the pain in her eyes. "Not so snappy today, eh?" She smirked, "Maybe you'll be like your friend down there." He thrust his head in Tina's direction, laughing at the horror which spread of her face. He walked on cackling and she thrashed against her short chains, enraged and terrified. How could anyone do this to her? She bit back a cry as another contraction rippled across her belly. They were coming closer together and getting stronger. "Nonono.." she shook her head in disbelief. She didn't want to have this baby! Her body ignored her pleas, however, and as time dragged on her labor progressed.
Francis eyes widened. He could die? He shook his head fervently and blinked back tears as he tried to centre himself for the next contraction. He focused on the intense burning sensation in between his legs and willed the baby to move downwards. When the next contraction came, Francis scrunched his face in pain and shuddered violently. His toes curled and he flung his head back, crying out as both shoulders crashed through his anus. He panted hard then pushed again, gasping the moment his baby slipped free.
She'd gotten dressed and waddled down to the kitchen to begin her baking. At least now, she knew she could have breakfast ready before the children woke up. She knew she was in for a long labour because of her body's physical shape so she didn't want to waste any time. Clive ran in before she was done, "Oh, did I wake you?" Alexis asked her eldest son, of almost 11. He nodded and sat down groggily.  "Well, breakfast will be ready soon. Why don't you go wake up your brothers and sisters?" He groaned and got back up again slumping back down the hall to go get them. It was about 20 minutes late before all 7 of her children that were able to walk had sat down at the table. "I didn't want to wake up Tommy." Clive told
WARNING: This short story contains Minor Language, Mpreg, and Descriptive Labour and Birth Scenes. If you do not prefer any of these,  than this is not the story for you, and I would recommend that you not read it. Especially if all you wish to do is comment on how much you think Mpreg is disgusting and wrong. If you have anything against this story, you can note me. I would prefer not to have comments that do nothing but start flame wars.
It was the stench that woke her. The smell of musk and decay taking her from pleasant dreams. She looked unhappily about. The cell she was trapped in was cold and damp and the short chains bound to her wrist bit deep, letting scars heal from past self-inflicted injuries.  She could only guess at how long she had been kept a prisoner and it wasn't wasn't by etching each hopeless day upon her cell walls. She looked over her naked body with disgust, her eyes stuck upon her now swollen belly. She was in her third trimester her captives claimed. Thus she estimated she had been here a little over nine months. She bit back tears as memories flooded with renewed vigor. Though the days had long passed when the men would enter her cell and take her, ravaging her until their seed had planted, she dreaded this time the most.
The storm raged outside. The wind howled as it snuck in through the cracks in the wood, and whipped around the house. Thunder rippled through the air and lightning streaked across the sky. The rain beat against the window. He could hear water pouring out of the gutters. He held Jensen’s hand with both of his, knuckles close to his lips as he rocked slowly back and forth.
Merlin drifted in and out of consciousness, catching snippets of conversation as he did. None of it made much sense and nothing could hold his attention for long. There was another contraction, more sleep and then yet another contraction. He would wake up while the pain gripped him and then fall back to sleep in between. He was vaguely aware of a hand in his when the pain was on him. He held onto that hand as to a lifeline as he thrashed in agony but was strangely oblivious to the person attached to the hand. It wasn’t until his pains began to come too close together for him to sleep in between that he realized the hand he’d been holding was Arthur’s. He dropped it like a hot coal when he became aware.
Francis groaned and threw his head back, each contraction getting progressively worse. "N-No..I can't be..." he whimpered. "It's too soon. I'm not ready!" He gritted his teeth and strained fiercely. A shallow moan escaped his mouth as another spasm ripped through his weary muscles. The babies were also becoming exceedingly restless and lashed out at their enclosed cavity. Francis hissed, legs spread wide apart as he bucked his pelvis, unaware that he was speeding the baby's descent. "I-It's happening..." He panted past the peak of another contraction, sweat breaking out on his forehead and he struggled to control his breathing. Raising his knees, he clutched desperately at his stomach. "Now!" All of a sudden, Francis felt something release from his anus. Whatever burst from him coloured the bath immediately, darkening the waters. "N-Niso!"
"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...
I get on my bicycle when a terrible ache increased in my lower stomach. I rubbed it to ease the pain. Ignoring it and I rode on my bicycle to the first stop. I rang the doorbell and delivered it to the gentleman that came out. I turned around to get on my bike when a sharp pain caused me to fall to my knees clutching my stomach. I moaned and breathed through the pain. After it was over, i got on my bicycle to the next stop. Meanwhile I did, I felt a burst of fluids draining from my

“Yes. I wasn’t pining for Gwen. That morning when I woke up with you wrapped around me…I realized it was really you I’d wanted all along. And I felt horrible because I knew you’d only been with me because you felt sorry for me, because you are the best friend I could ever ask for. You wouldn’t turn me away when I was hurting and it was so damn selfish but I wanted to keep you and I knew…I thought that I couldn’t.”


Jensen hadn’t been feeling well when he woke up that morning and by noon he was complaining of back spasms. After taking a long, hot bath, he felt a little better, so the two of them decided to wait out the storm by watching their favorite movies. Two hours into the movie and the start of their second film, Jensen felt a sharp pain in his stomach that quickly receded. It was then he realized it wasn’t just Braxton-Hicks contractions and he was definitely in labor.


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.
Huge baby, born breech, with the head stuck inside the mother. The doctors put her out and use no less than seven instruments – forceps, scalpels, scissors – to hack away at her vulva, pulling, pushing on her stomach, wrenching her legs wider until finally the head comes free. I don’t know what the doctor is doing at the end, punching his whole hand into her horribly ripped slit, but it’s for damn sure she woke up after it was all over, screaming for pain meds and unable to sit or walk for weeks! 
×