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.
Niso grabbed Francis and laid him back down. "It won't stop unless you start pushing Francis!" He said, narrowing his eyes at him now. "So push!" He ordered harshly, gritting his teeth now. Francis choked back a half sob. No sensation like this had ever been inflicted on his body before; everything hurt. His eyes snapped open abruptly to what had to be the hardest set of contractions yet. "Gyahhhhh..!" He wailed then bore down with a loud grunt of pain. A horrific pain burned in his anus and his chest seized but he continued pushing. He could feel the ring of pressure building between his cheeks. Still panting raggedly, Francis wrenched his thighs apart and drove his chin to his chest. He pushed, hard, screaming profanities when a small, gory head bulged out of his stretched anus. Niso moved to in between Francis' legs, looking between them and biting his lip as he sees the head bulging his anus. "Keep pushing, it's crowning!" He said, biting his lip as he gripped Francis' knees, spreading them apart even more. While he watched, Niso suddenly realized that he'd never actually assisted in a birth before but had given birth twice. He chewed the inside of his lip as Francis continued laboring, hoping against hope that nothing will go wrong.
Amy's Story - part 1Amy laid back as the contractions worsened. She could feel the baby moving down into her hips and moaned in pain. Leshia was there to help her, but it was somewhat of an embarrassment. Amy barely felt female at all on the inside, and if it wasn't for that witch's gender spell, she would never had been pregnant in the first place. As far as she was concerned, the only thing that made her predicament acceptable was that she had female genitalia.
"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.
He couldn’t remember any more words after that. Just the pain and the struggle and the warm, strong bulk at his back. It held him up, rocking with him as he fought to push his baby out. The voice was there, he could remember hearing it but there were no more words, just the soothing tone of it. Merlin fought with all he had to stay awake, to strain, to push. Finally one last push and a scream of effort and it was done. He could hear his son crying and he sagged back against the warm, firm cradle of the body behind him and knew no more.
Staring at the tiny being in his hands, Sherlock seemed in shock, almost unsure of what he had just witnessed. Then as its face scrunched and let out a tiny cry, he could feel his breath catch. She was actually here. The thing that Sarah and John had made together, that once gray bean in the sonogram photo on Mrs. Hudson's fridge, the creation that had sent John into the most interesting cravings and mood swings (he had analyzed every single one), was a living, breathing person...
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.
Jimmy’s eyes blinked as he tried to understand what was happening. Jimmy’s mind was racing. He wanted to ask about the baby but he couldn’t for some reason form words. He just looked deep into Allen. Jimmy nodded his head as Allen began to move his lips again. “Look, I’m so sorry Jimmy. Last night was a mistake. I should have never brought you here. I’m your teacher. You’re my student. This is wrong. I could get fired for this. You’re such a bright and attractive boy, but you’re just a boy. I shouldn
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.
Though Amy did have a very feminine body; she often tried to hide her wide hips and bust with baggy pants. She never wanted to admit it, but of all the girls the witch picked, she was the one with the ideal body for having children. Her desire to be more masculine fought against her female hormones that come with pregnancy and childbirth. Part of her wanted to embrace this feminine side she had. Part of her was grateful for her feminine body shape and ability to create life.
"Fuck you!" The girl spat, forcing herself not to give into her urge to push. The men around her laughed as she fell back against her bed panting. She couldn't stop nature though and she grunted as her vagina bulged out, the opening becoming a tear-drop shape. The men cheered watching the opening become wider with each contraction until finally the head was crowned. The woman before her massaged her lips to help them stretch as the baby's head pushed further out. The woman frowned as the girl screamed. The head was bigger than she expected. She pushed the girl's lips away from the head ordering her to push harder. "Uuuaagg!" She cried out, her face reddening from effort. "OH it burns! It burns!" She cried as the infants head stretched her wide. Her hair stuck to her sweat coated skin and she bore down. She tore as the eyes and nose were pushed out. She screamed in pain as her blood flowed mixing with the amniotic fluids which spurted around her child.
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.
It wasn’t long, barely 8 minutes since the last one, before another contraction forced a strangled moan from Jensen, his head falling towards his chest, face scrunched up in pain. “Breathe, honey, don’t hold your breath,” Jared coached him through it. He fell back against the pillows, a slight hitch in his breathing. Jared comfortingly ran his free hand through Jensen’s hair.