Suddenly, Francis felt the ring of fire return as his anus slowly bulged and stretched around the baby's head. His chest burned and he paused to draw breath but too late, the head had slipped back inside. Get back out here!" Niso felt helpless. He could only stay by the pregnant male and offer just the smallest relief. His hands kneaded the knots in Francis’ heaving flank and lower back, easing some of the pressure. “You're doing it, just keep pushing. It's already crowned Francis." He kissed the laboring male’s shoulder and temple as encouragement then shuffled back to check Francis' entrance.  Niso was able to make out a tuft of dark hair poking out as the baby started to crown, and knew it would come out quickly if Francis gave a hard push.

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


Then he hurried over to the bathroom, picking up both swaddled babies from the floor and returning to the bedroom, laying them on the large bed next to their bearer. Francis moaned and wriggled weakly on the bed. His strength was spent. Francis threw an arm over his forehead and inhaled sharply as another contraction rolled over him. He was so tired. All he wanted was to sleep, and erase the last four hours. He turned his head and gasped loudly when his muscles tensed again, biting into the duvet to muffle his cries. Niso sat on the bed and watched him, gripping at his hand lightly now. There wasn't anything he could do but sit there with him. Sighing, he shook his head, wondering when Francis would next give birth and how many more he'd be having. Francis buried his face in the pillow. His soft cries became more urgent as he curled in on himself, clutching his heaving abdomen. His insides felt like they were being ripped open. "Nnnggh..!"With the next contraction he squeezed Niso's hand, hard enough to bruise. His back arched off the bed as the baby suddenly shifted and the horrible pressure in his pelvis returned. Francis groaned and rubbed his stomach furiously, feeling his muscles seize and contract against his will. This was not his body anymore; he had no control. Niso gritted his teeth but didn't say anything, allowing Francis to squeeze his hand. "Is it coming yet?" He asked, frowning as he watched Francis continue to writhe on the bed. Using his free hand, Niso tried to keep the other’s legs spread wide, hoping the nightmare would be over soon with the final birth or births. Francis whined, struggling to loose himself from the covers. He wanted to be on all fours but his legs were tangled and plastered to the bedsheets by sweat and birth fluids. He rolled over to his side and looked at Niso. "N-Need to get up.." Francis managed to gasp out before he concentrated on his breath. This time the pain was so strong it felt like knives were being twisted inside his gut. He latched onto Niso's arm and tried to haul himself upwards, wheezing, when suddenly his stomach clenched and a gush of fluids splashed down his legs. Francis shuddered. "AHHHHHHHHHHH...!"
“Thanks,” he gratefully sighed as Jared helped him wiggle his way out of his sopping wet sweatpants and underwear. He’d barely been in the rain, but it was enough to have left him soaked. Jensen raised his arms, and Jared pulled his shirt over his head, helping him struggle into the dry one, once he was completely naked. “Can you grab the pillows off the couch, and the blanket?”
"It's normal... We're getting close..." John replied, already knowing where Sherlock's mind was going. At last, the dressing room. Gingerly swinging the door open, he loosed his grip on John long enough to shove a large stack of chairs in front the door, keeping any potential snipers out of the room for the time being. He'd figure out what to do if they started shooting when they come to it. Leaving John on a bench, he hurried into a side room, grabbing the items that John had instructed him to get; towels, a first aid kit, anything he thought they'd need. Of course, he did manage to take a moment to type out a frantic text to Mycroft.
I awoke that morning feeling Braxton Hicks contractions in my belly but decided to just shrug it off for now. I was sure they'd stop once I had some food. I climbed out of bed as Brian continued to snore softly beside me and waddled to the bathroom to relieve myself. I was just getting ready to sit down so I could go when I felt a pop and water rushed down my legs soaking the bath mat.
Glancing back, Sherlock gave a quick look at John who looked rather pained while doing all he could to stay calm. But of course John had a lot more to worry about. Instinctively, his arm was wrapped protectively around the large bump that contained his and Sarah's second child; a girl this time. She had already faced death three times in the past few minutes (once being his own fault...) and she wasn't even born yet; he wasn't about to let her face it again.
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! 
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
That was really good. Felt really bad for Merlin when he felt he had to flee. I knew Arthur would never really try and hurt him, but his behavior when he took Merlin back to Camelot was really scary. Loved the birthing scene, with Arthur finally realizing what Merlin was afraid of and Merlin being too delirious to comprehend what Arthur was saying. Really glad they worked things out and got their happy ending with their cute baby.
The slightest of smiles crossed Jim's face. "You'll be hearing from me, Sherlock." he said before returning to his phone call. "So if you have what you say you have," he said back to the person on the cell phone as he proceeded to calmly walk out of the room. "I'll make you rich. If you don't, I'll make you into shoes..." And with a snap of his fingers, the snipers disappeared and it was all over.

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.
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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