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."
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 felt like he was watching a movie as he saw the doctor cleaning out his son’s mouth and nose. Jason beamed as their little boy, Jackson was almost certainly going to be his name, was nestled into his arms by a grinning nurse. Distantly, he wanted to hold him too but the mere seconds of relief following his exit had disappeared and the pain was back with a frightening intensity.