Francis choked back a scream then bore down hard. He raised his hips instinctively, grinding his teeth together as the baby lurched a couple inches forward, viciously spreading his ass cheeks further and further apart. "Gyahhhh..!" Francis roared and pushed again. His muscles were pulled taut and he could feel the baby struggling, its large shoulders twisting and grinding into his anus but stalling just behind the puckered rim. He whimpered, "N-Niso..."Niso nodded and looked up at him. "Just keep pushing, you can do it just push Francis!" He coached him, helping to spread Francis' legs further apart. "You can't stop now, please just push!" Niso snapped lightly, gritting his teeth and narrowing his eyes at the labouring male. "You'll die if you don't finish giving birth!”
Merlin listened in dismay. He really didn’t want Arthur present for this, didn’t think he could stand to have Arthur pressed up against him under such humiliating circumstances. He’d witnessed enough births to know exactly what was likely to happen to him. He certainly didn’t want Arthur, of all people, to witness to his tears, to hear his cries, to watch the other indignities that were likely to be inflicted on him.
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.
"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.
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.
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.