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.
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...
Jack swung down hard with the axe splitting the piece of wood almost perfectly in two. He liked chopping wood, it helped him forget. Forget things like dropping out of his residency to help care for his elderly parents way up in the mountains. At least up here there was not a hospital or even a clinic around for miles to remind him of his abandon career of becoming a doctor. Now that his parents finally past on Jack was left with a stalled life and a mountain home that was not selling. As he placed another log on the chopping block he saw a snow flake fall on his hand, great he thought another storm! There goes my chances of getting into town today.

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.

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!"


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.

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?”
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. 
On the other hand, it felt so fucking good. He’d not been aware enough – or too focused on other agonies elsewhere – to realize they’d put some sort of pump on his cock and it was milking him like a farmer’s hand late for a date. At some point the nurse, the one who never had wiped that stupid grin off her face, had started gently massaging his swollen balls and it was both the best and worst sensation ever.
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