Sherlock's heart lept into his throat. This wasn't supposed to happen. John's due due was still three weeks away and he had already from day one made perfectly clear that he didn't want to be anywhere near when 'it' decided to make its appearance. "I...I'll drive you to St. Bart's..." he stammered, unsuccessfully hiding the trace of fear in his voice.
a patient man all time low between two hearts blake healy bottom! james btr kink meme carlos/logan cobra starship fall out boy father day meme four stages of guilt genre:au in reality jensen/jard jensen/jared mason musso metro station miley cyrus mitchel musso mpreg oscar wilde ot4 pairing: sam/dean picture perfect slash somewhere only we know star trek kink meme supernatural supernatural rps the glory of being me trace cyrus trason wake up what the devil may say writer's block
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.
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.
Merlin drifted in and out of consciousness, catching snippets of conversation as he did. None of it made much sense and nothing could hold his attention for long. There was another contraction, more sleep and then yet another contraction. He would wake up while the pain gripped him and then fall back to sleep in between. He was vaguely aware of a hand in his when the pain was on him. He held onto that hand as to a lifeline as he thrashed in agony but was strangely oblivious to the person attached to the hand. It wasn’t until his pains began to come too close together for him to sleep in between that he realized the hand he’d been holding was Arthur’s. He dropped it like a hot coal when he became aware.
WARNING:This short story contains some sensitive subjects. If you don't prefer Yaoi, Descriptive Sex Scenes, or Mpreg, this is not the story for you, and you have been warned. Also, if you do not like this sort of thing, I would ask you not to comment just to state this fact. Keep it to yourself, because you chose to read it, even after reading the warning.
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.
"Lay one of the towels...on the floor..." was the next instruction from John, his breathing deepening as the next urges started to build. Sherlock had just managed to spread the towel out when John could no longer fight and gave into the urge to push, his body on autopilot now as it directed his actions. Instinctively, his hands reached for Sherlock's arms and sensing that this was what John needed now more than anything, he allowed John's fingers to squeeze painfully tight into his shoulders. John's green eyes then match up with his own gray ones and lock, showing unrelenting focus for nearly a full minute as he forced the baby further down.
               He dazed off through the window as his history teacher droned on about the political views of Hawaii in the early 1900’s. Jim couldn’t keep focus on such nonsense; he didn’t care what the political views of Hawaii once were.  He was only a few weeks delivering a secret he had been hiding so well, his mind could only ever drift off to the thought of what was yet to come. Jim’s daze was broken was he was welcomed back to reality when he felt her shift a bit.      

She struggled to stand. The chains worked against her, keeping her from reaching out. She could hear the cries of other women and sadly took comfort from it. At least she wasn't alone. One woman, her name was Tina, had been taken around the same time she had. She remember being with her, trapped in the kidnappers vehicle when it first happened. Why they had been kidnapped she didn't know. She assumed it was some kind of cult, being as she only saw men. Her thought were interrupted by another cry from her fellow captive. She could only guess that she had gone into labor. She tried to block out the screams, to remain in denial of her situation. She gazed with dewy eyes upon her trembling belly. She dread birth and she knew her time was coming. She had been having contractions for a few days now and this day wasn't any different.
She panted as they carried her further away from her cell. Lights on the ceiling passed until they came to a large bright room. She felt her birth canal stretching and she moaned. The child's head was pushing further and further down. She tried to spread her legs wider, but couldn't due to the men who were holding her. "Uugghhh!" She grunted against her stretching vagina and the men quickly brought her to the center of the room. They laid her upon a bed. The mattress was hard but she welcomed it. She struggled as they took her hands and bound them to the bars at her sides. Her legs were placed in stirrups and strapped. She cried out as they spread her wide with the stirrups, leaving her vagina open for all to see. A woman now appeared, much to the girl's shock, in front of her. She pushed her fingers deep into the girl's opening, rubbing the cervix, estimating how dilated she was. The girl grunted as her hand went deeper and tried to moved but was unable. The woman's fingers found the hard mass of the child's head and smiled. "It appears the infant is ready," She grinned removing herself from her vagina. Her cold eyes held her's and she let the girl know her demands, "Push."
               He dazed off through the window as his history teacher droned on about the political views of Hawaii in the early 1900’s. Jim couldn’t keep focus on such nonsense; he didn’t care what the political views of Hawaii once were.  He was only a few weeks delivering a secret he had been hiding so well, his mind could only ever drift off to the thought of what was yet to come. Jim’s daze was broken was he was welcomed back to reality when he felt her shift a bit.      
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.
             Jim attempted to get down on his hands and knees and mop up the mucus and blood mixture now staining the shower tiles; until he felt the little secret loosely move in him, down lower, like water from flood gates. He jolted against the wall in a sitting position knees bent. Jim knew he couldn’t stay here, his gym class would soon be over and the other boys would soon be coming back in. When the contraction passed, Jim dragged the now saturated towel and placed it in the garbage can under some paper t
I’m a young, first time mom, heavily pregnant with triplets. I arrive at the hospital in early labor, deposit my husband in the waiting room, and am shaved, given an enema, and catheterized before any medication is administered. Once the meds start to take effect, my legs are strapped into stirrups and my arms tied to the side of the bed. For the next twenty hours, I writhe and scream in agony as the contractions get increasingly stronger. It feels like by body is being ripped apart but I’m too out of it to remember my own name, much less than I’m pregnant and in labor. The nurses mostly ignore my crying and moaning, casually chatting about their weekend plans as they make sure my restraints are still in place despite my desperate bucking. 
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