Niso nodded as he held the baby up and was grabbing one of the towels he'd brought from the bathroom, cleaning it off. "It's out Francis, it's out." He said, looking up at the younger male. "Is that...is that all of them?" Niso asked meekly, swallowing a lump in his throat. He doubted Francis was up for another birth. He laid the baby once it was cleaned and wrapped up with it's siblings, looking over the little babies before he turned his attention back on Francis again. "Oh, thank goodness." Francis hung his head and grunted tiredly. His fingers trailed over his newly deflated stomach and pressed just above his pubic bone, feeling for any hardness. "I-I think so." When Francis found none he shook his head. A soft sigh escaped his mouth as he crawled over to Niso and laid his head in his lap, hands reaching out to clutch at the older male's shirt. After a few seconds, the young man broke down, sobbing quietly. He was utterly exhausted, his body physically spent of energy.


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.
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!”

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!"
Merlin doubted it. He gazed down at his son in fascination. It occurred to him to be thankful he hadn’t grown actual breasts while he was pregnant. He wasn’t sure how much his masculinity could endure, carrying a child was bad enough but breasts would have probably tipped him over the edge. He had lost all of his chest hair but that seemed a small price to pay.
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.
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?”
It was three weeks until his due date and they were holed up at home due to the presence of Hurricane Irene. Their little home was far enough inland that the damage wouldn’t be too severe and they wouldn’t have to board up or anything like they did in Florida, but it was bad enough that weathermen were expecting downed trees and probable power outages.
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. 
×