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.
Pain hit him like a fist in the chest at Gaius’s words. It was so unexpected he gasped from it and Gaius looked at him sharply knowing it should be too soon for another contraction. Merlin shook his head and rolled over onto his side giving the old man his back until he could compose himself. Only there was no composure to be found. He couldn’t stop the tears that welled up in his eyes and spilled out onto his cheeks.
Like a turtle on its back, Jensen was stuck on the floor. He’d squatted down to pick something up, was thrown off balance by their huge monstrosity of a dog, Harley, and when he tried to catch himself, his hand slipped on the tile. Jensen ended up flat on his back on the floor with Harley licking his face. If he really wanted to try, Jensen was sure he could get up, but decided just to lay there instead, just for a few moments until he could muster enough energy to pull himself up. Two minutes turned into twenty and Jensen was still lying on the floor weighing the pros and cons of staying there and waiting for Jared to find him, or attempting to try now to get up.

When he woke, he was back in Arthur’s bed. He opened his eyes and glanced around. He wanted his son, the urge to hold him, to see him, was overwhelming. Before he could begin to panic though, his eyes fell on the cradle beside the bed, and he leaned over the side in order to get his first glimpse. All he could see was a tuft of golden hair and a wrinkled little face. He nearly fell off the bed trying to scramble out of it.


Mpreg ElevatorMark, a pregnant male teenager, was in his second trimester of pregnancy. His belly was huge and round. He was abandoned by his partner so he decided to raise his child alone. He started going to a yoga class for pregnant males. He made new friends. They were separated into classes with the same months of pregnancy they were in. He went twice a week and stretched with his pregnant buddies. He loved going because it really relaxed his body. He went day after day and reached his third trimester. He was 9 months pregnant with his first child. He was excited for his baby to come. Every day he would let his baby listen to music, hear stories, and he bought baby clothes. He was ready for the baby to come. He went to his yoga class like any other day and talked to his friends. They would feel each other's bellies. The instructor came in and got them ready. The classes were about an hour each. It was over and Mark and his friends went into the elevator to get to the first floor. CRASH! The ele
I’m in transition for almost an hour, the contractions hard and constant. At one point they put me on oxygen because I’m hyperventilating from not remembering to breathe between screams. Then I start to feel the intense pressure of needing to push, which I do for almost forty minutes before the searing pain of my first baby’s head stretching my formerly tight hole hits me. It’s a looooong crowning, followed by stubborn shoulders that spread me so wide I could swear my pelvis is breaking.
When the pool was finally filled, the taps shut off automatically, and Laura began undressing herself. She dropped her sweatpants and wet panties to the ground and pulled her white shirt off. She left her bra on to keep her swollen breasts from sagging onto her belly. She slowly went down the steps into the water, clutching her belly. She wasn’t nervous about giving birth alone, since she found herself immune to pain her whole life, though, she had to admit, these contr

Jared nodded again, not trusting himself to speak at the moment. “Okay, you’re going to put the end of the stethoscope there. Now you'll tighten this screw here and then squeeze the bulb until this gauge is about 160, or about 10 above the last time you heard my last heartbeat. Then you’re going to slowly loosen this screw and let the gauge drop. When you hear the first beat, remember that number, and when the sound stops, remember that number too.  You got it?”


My most recent fantasy involves twilight sleep, a horrible practice from the 1950’s and 60’s where women were given a mix of drugs during labor and delivery that made them forget the whole experience. It was said to relieve pain but, in fact, the women were suffering natural labor and delivery, just too drugged out of their minds up to make any sense out of the whole thing. 
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