He was right. Who knew if the snipers were still there or not? Bending over, he allowed John's arm about his neck as he got him to his feet before beginning the agonizingly slow walk to the dressing rooms. It seemed that John could only walk so far before having to stop to breathe through contractions that were now right on top of each other. And it hurt Sherlock nearly as much to see John in that much pain. Why Omegas chose to do this at all seemed completely illogical to him... Desperate to ease some of the pain, he pulled John close to him; letting his head rest against his chest and swaying together until John decided to move again. And from the look on John's face, it was the best thing he could have done. It was during one of these 'dances' that Shelock was alarmed to discover that John was now trembling under his touch even though he couldn't possibly be cold.
I get on my bicycle when a terrible ache increased in my lower stomach. I rubbed it to ease the pain. Ignoring it and I rode on my bicycle to the first stop. I rang the doorbell and delivered it to the gentleman that came out. I turned around to get on my bike when a sharp pain caused me to fall to my knees clutching my stomach. I moaned and breathed through the pain. After it was over, i got on my bicycle to the next stop. Meanwhile I did, I felt a burst of fluids draining from my
"Her name." John explains. "Sarah and I decided that we were going to name her Nora." And he held his breath in wait of Sherlock's response. He remembered the grief that Sherlock had given him when he and Sarah were deciding on names for their son, Rory; how they couldn't have come up with something more unique. This coming from a man named Sherlock who has a brother named Mycroft... Sometimes it was nice to be normal. And darn it if he was going to let Sherlock change...
Birthday Roses - Part 4Tia let out a low keening groan as the current contraction rushed through her, gripping the sheets of the bed over which she leaned. A part of her longed to lay down on the soft mattress, but the very thought of moving from her spot seemed impossible. She could focus only on the pain, hoping that concentration would help her get through it…
“Ok Jensen, you really are nearly done. She’s right down now. I can see that she’s going to be a blondie like me, so how about you give me a really good one with the next contraction and we’ll see if we can get this done, yeah? What do you say?” the doctor coached as she used her hands to support the skin around their daughter’s tiny blood smeared head.
Even drugged out my mind, this is the worst pain I’ve ever experienced. My poor, ravaged hole is forced to stretch even further as his fat wrist widens the tear at the bottom. My overworked cervix is still contracting even as he digs around in my uterus for what seems like hours. I’m shrieking, pleading for him to stop ripping me apart. I just know I’m about to die – and I’d welcome it if it means an end to the agony. Finally, he tugs the baby out and, in my medicated state, I allow myself to imagine it might be over. That fantasy is quickly dashed as he pushes his hand back inside and starts digging around for the placentas. I’m shaking so hard the nurses have to hold me down as he roots around in my wrecked pussy for another 15 minutes. By the time he’s done I’m almost unconscious from the long labor, the pain, the whole horrible ordeal. The last thing I hear before passing out is a nurse commenting on my bruised, gaping cunt, saying that it will definitely never be the same.
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.
Merlin eyed the angled seat of the birthing stool with misgivings. Yes, he knew that it was supposed to ease a woman’s confinement but he wasn’t really a woman. Still, the child would come in much the same way. He just wasn’t sure he had the strength to endure the contractions and keep himself upright as the stool was exactly that-a stool. It had no back, no support of any kind. He knew that usually a laboring mother would lay her legs along the flared wings of the seat and rock herself back and forth until the child came but usually a midwife was there to use her body to strengthen the straining mother. Who would help him? Gaius was amazingly vigorous for a man of his age but he wasn’t really sturdy enough to take Merlin’s weight for that long.
Birthing Chambers Ep. 3It had now been almost three weeks since I had been captured. About two and a half weeks since I found the Birthing Chamber. I was now about halfway through the gestation period of the Queen S'Tencha growing inside my womb. And, though inhuman, I was becoming very attached to the creature. Because I was giving it my life, I felt it was almost a part of me... something that depended on me.