Amy found it harder and harder to keep her masculine side intact. Her voice had raised and she was now moaning in pain with every push. She breathed heavily as she continued. She wanted this to end. She was tired of letting Leshia be her midwife and allow her to see everything that was going on down there. She wanted to give birth alone, but Leshia was too worried and wouldn’t allow it.
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.
Danny and Brie were an odd couple. For one thing, Brie was tough and serious, yet also sweet on the inside. Danny could be easily mistaken for a lesbian. He had a bowl-shaped boyish haircut and a very feminine face. He wasn’t muscular at all and had very narrow shoulders like a girl. But Brie had the most unusual attribute, for she was a witch, and had the power to switch one’s gender or sex role. That is, she could take the genitals of a boy and a girl and switch them. In this scenario, the girl would be on top during sex.
Gentle hands eased him back in the bed, Arthur’s hands. Those same hands propped pillows behind him, helped him to sit up then gathered their son from his cradle and carefully passed him to Merlin. It wasn’t until the baby was in his arms that Merlin realized just how profoundly weak he still was. He could barely lift his arms up to hold his son. He trembled with the effort and felt a tear roll down his cheek. He made a pathetic mother.
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.
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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