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After two very calm standing births during which she barely made a noise at all, she ended her birthing experience flat on her back screaming while being fisted through a breech birth.

You’ll like this if you like:

-multiples (x3!)

-home birth

-huge bellies

-standing/squatting births

- FISTING THE MOM TO PULL THE LAST ONE OUT

-multiple people pushing on the belly

-monitoring baby’s heart beat while pushing

The way they just FALL out of her 🥵🤤

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"I'm so sorry, honey, I put a huge one in you."

Conveniently it works for when she's moaning it in and when she's screaming it out.

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Flat On Your Back, Again

Content: this is medical fetish fiction about labor, birth, and hysterectomy.

One of the interesting things about recovering women from hysterectomy is that, due to the nature of the procedures, it’s not uncommon for them to wake up feeling sensations like those of labor and birth.

We get a lot of “it feels like back labor!” and “I feel like I am having contractions” from laparoscopic hysterectomy patients as they ride through the gas pains pressing on their new internal incisions.

Vaginal hysterectomy patients are more likely to compare it to delivery. “I feel so heavy down there, like I just gave birth” is a common one. I had a very groggy lady ask me the other day if she ripped more pushing out the second twin because it felt like her butthole had torn. She was 61 and her 36 year old twins were in the waiting room. (Later, when she was only slightly less groggy, she told me it was her son who'd ripped her so bad it made it extremely painful to push his sister through the damage. He looked like he wanted to puke when, as I had her legs spread to remove her catheter, she said I could probably show him the scars from where he tore her up.)

What's fascinating is the sensations of labor and birth are so intense and primal that even women who had their last baby 60 years ago can be thrown right back to that place in the right circumstances, like a little anesthesia and having their insides rearranged with a scalpel.

We had an 88 year-old lady the other day who’d had a radical hysterectomy and she was super out of it. Nothing could convince her the severe bladder spasms weren't contractions and, when her epidural started failing, she told everyone she saw she was in transition. You really haven't seen anything until you've seen an ancient looking lady, who somehow managed to get her legs in the delivery position because she was so convinced a baby was going to be coming out, screaming “I'm crowning, oh God it's too big, pull it out of me!”

That's the nature of the uterus. Whether you use it or lose it, you end up the same way: laid out in a hospital bed, bleeding out of your pussy, and moaning about the pain.

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New Year's Baby

I had the first baby born in my small town seconds after midnight in 2024. Our pictures were in the paper and everything and we got a little certificate co-branded from the hospital and the local newspaper.

The local paper is so into this yearly tradition it sends a photographer to hang around the maternity ward to capture an image of the mother/child pair lucky enough to win that year's honor.

I'm sure the guy who got that assignment was very annoyed with me because, while my son popped out at 12:01am, I was up in stirrups, my destroyed pussy gaped and leaking, while my my placenta was manually removed, piece by piece, by the doctor's hands going in and up me what felt like a thousand times. They said they numbed me but I have my doubts. I think the poor newspaper kid who had to stand outside my door listening to me shriek about the pain in my pussy for two hours might have some doubts too.

I have no memory of the photograph being taken but I look so bad I'm surprised they put it on the front page of the paper considering how absolutely wrecked I look. My face is marred by pain, I have huge black bags under my eyes, and if you look closely you can tell I'm actually still in the stirrups in the picture, a drape casually thrown over my brutalized genitals so they could get the picture between pulling my placenta out of me and putting 40 stitches in my clitoris, ureter, and rectum.

I certainly don't remember giving the kid a quote but I must have because it was there in black and white the next, in a pull quote box in bold next to a graphic of the New Year Baby, for my parents, co-workers, and every other person in our town to read over their morning cereal.

"I feel like someone detonated a grenade down there. I tore my butthole when the doctor pulled him out and they say I'm gonna have a catheter for weeks because that's pretty torn up too. I've been in labor since Christmas Eve. You think I care about having the New Year's baby?"

It was attributed to me, my full name right there on the front page next to "mom to 17lb New Year's Baby." It was months before I could go anywhere in public without my neighbors glancing down at my pelvis when they saw me, clearly wondering if my tissues were still a car crash down there.

So remember today folks, that behind every single "New Year Baby" headline in every town in the world is an exhausted person waking up with their genitals on fire and their hips and pelvis aching, leaking milk from their tits and blood and stray birth fluids into their hospital issued mesh panties.

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The Hips That Launched 1000 Orgasms: A Medical Fetish Fiction

Content warning: this is a medical and surgical fetish fiction in which characters derive sexual pleasure from a surgical patient undergoing bilateral hip replacement and experiencing a difficult post-operative period. Those characters have sex, the patient is never involved or aware they are being fetishized. There is no useful medical information about hip replacement here. This is 18+ fetish fiction, minors DNI, otherwise read at your own risk.

Author’s note: I have a sudden huge thing for hip replacement surgery now? I don’t know. This is 3000 words of my latest hyperfixation, which is evidently women screaming about the pain in their broken hips. Truly dead dove territory here.

***

My grandfather's wife needed double hip replacement surgery and he asked me to help him get her to the hospital, wait while she was in surgery, and be there to see her with him when she got out.

I didn't really want to do it, frankly, because I have a raging medical and surgical fetish and, when he asked me to do it, I got off the phone, got hard when I immediately imagined the look on her face when she woke up and felt the pain of what had just been done to her, and then got soft real fast when I felt like a creep for sexualizing my step-grandma's surgical pain. Even though he's only been with the woman for a few years -- she's wife number six, we don't get attached -- and we've met a grand total of two times. It still felt...icky...to do what they would consider a kind favor if I wasn't going to be able to keep my dick down. Considering how many times I got hard thinking of that look on her face when my brain wandered toward the request, I wasn't going to be able to.

But it was icy the morning of the surgery, he's 78, and she's suffering so badly from the arthritis that's necessitating the hip replacements that he was going to have to transfer her from her wheelchair into their van in the ice. So, I'm not a total asshole....I said I'd come pick them up and gave my dick a talking to for the whole half hour drive to their house, insisting that we were not, under any circumstances, going to sexualize any part of my step-grandma's surgery experience.

We got there, they said a lovey, dovey goodbye -- they're disgustingly into PDA for septuagenarians -- then she was wheeled in for surgery, already a little loopy from the drugs they came her to keep her calm before the procedure. My dick did so well, only a teeny tiny jump, when they placed her central line and told her she'd really want that to deliver her pain medication once the nerve block placed during surgery wore off.

The surgery took about six hours, a little long for a bilateral hip replacement, and I tried valiantly not to look at the clock and imagine what they were doing to her at that point during the surgery. Were they prying her lips open to place the endotracheal tube? Using the saw to remove the arthritic joint? Or hammering the second new one in? Maybe there had been an unexpectedly tragic complication and right that very moment a surgeon was breaking her ribs as she coded on the table. It was a long six hours and Grandpa thought I had a weak bladder I had to go to the bathroom so many times to talk down my erection.

The doctor who came out to tell us the surgery had been a little difficult but she would recover normally told us a nurse would come back shortly and let us come see her in the post-anesthesia care unit once she was a little more awake. I had to excuse myself to the restroom again to have another talk with my dick because it was already getting traitorous at the thought of seeing her in the PACU, when her pain was most likely to be uncontrolled.

We didn't get to see her in the PACU, though. They came, said she was stable but needed a little more time. I figured she was either really groggy, really nauseous, or she was in so much pain it would freak us out and they were trying to control it before we saw her.

Unfortunately for me, my traitorous dick, and step granny, it was the latter. Two hours later they told us to meet her in her regular room because she was being wheeled down to be settled for the night, and to prepare ourselves because they were "struggling to keep her comfortable." We started hearing her pitiful groans when she was still halfway down the hall.

The semi I sprung the second I heard her keening cry after being jostled as the bed hit the door making the turn into the room turned into a rock hard erection when I saw her for the first time. She was lying flat on the bed, her head thrown back in agony, with her legs strapped around a blue triangular hip abductor pillow at her knees and mid-calf. The top of the triangle ended about one inch under her vagina, a hint of which I could see in the form of coarse gray hair partially obscuring a yellow catheter tube that snaked down to a half full bag of light yellow fluid hanging on the side of the bed.

Her face was beet red, streaked with tears, and her eyes were glassy and unfocused. She was crying so hard she seemed to be on the verge of hyperventilating and the involuntary spasms of her struggle for breath and the heaving sobs were jerking her aching hips, sending slices of agony through her entire pelvis and down the bloody bandage covered incisions down the sides of her legs, which only made her struggle harder.

The cute, muscled twink nurse who introduced himself as Marco, her night nurse, said her nerve block was wearing off and he would give her another dose of pain meds once he plugged in the monitors. He was making quick work of getting her settled when grandpa and I approached her bed.

I was so fucking hard I could barely move for fear my erection, which was twitching enough in my boxers to make me tremble, would hit the thick, dark denim of the jeans I wore specifically so I could hide this problem if it, um, popped up. I was in such a state that any friction would absolutely have been game over for me.

[If you've gotten this far and are fucking horrified by me, well, I was fucking horrified with myself to be leaking pre-cum at an old lady's obvious agony. Trust me, I get it. I didn't want my fetish to turn me on in a real life hospital. But holy shit she was lying there, screaming "my hips, my hips!" while strapped down immobile to that pillow like she was out of central casting in a surgical fetish fiction film and there were no number of thoughts of hellfire and damnation that could talk my penis down at that point. Why did it have to be hips?! I've had a hard on for this particular surgery since I was like 10 and I saw an old lady on Rescue 911 with a badly dislocated hip beg the paramedics to let her die rather than taking her to the hospital to have hip replacement for the second time because she didn't think she could endure the pain of waking up from that surgery again. I must have had 3000 orgasms since then watching the exact part of the video where she woke up from anesthesia and screamed, "my hip, oh God, why, I can't take the pain in my hip!" So, actually. I was doing insanely fucking well for what this was doing to me, thank you very much.]

Step granny saw grandpa and let out a wail. She tried to reach for him and groaned when it shot white sharp sparks through her surgical wounds again. She was visibly struggling to put words together through the haze of pain and the drugs in her system but she looked at him plaintively and began to beg, her voice raspy from the trach tube.

"Please, make the pain stop, I feel like I'm gonna die I'm in so much pain! It feels like someone's drilling into my hips! This was a mistake, I didn't know it would hurt this much, I don't want to die in this much pain!"

I had to turn around at that to pinch the base of my cock to keep myself from busting. I grunted when I was just barely successful but couldn't rein in a few involuntary thrusts of my own hips into the air that I hoped, if anyone was paying attention, would look like me trying to hold in my vomit of horror at seeing step granny in this condition.

But I turned around and it didn't seem like anyone was paying attention because Marco was putting a bolus of morphine into step granny's IV and she was pleading for him to hurry because it felt like a grenade had gone off in her pelvis.

I almost moaned at the pressure in the base of my cock as heard that and then had to push so fucking hard on my base again I almost squealed as I watched it take effect in less than a minute. Her eyes practically crossed before going wide with what looked like surprise. Her mouth dropped open and her tongue lolled around her lips as the drugs hit her.

She made a few noises that sent shivers through my erection before her whole body seemed to deflate with a long, breathy sigh. Her head fell to the side, her eyes and mouth locked open in a rictus of what could have been agony, bliss, or was more likely some combination of the two.

I don't know how I didn't bust right then. It was like she'd been written as a character in a kink fic to hit all my surgical fetish buttons. She was just splayed there, drugged out of her gourd, with a dumb look of utter shock on her face, like she never could have imagined having her arthritic hip joints sawed off and metal balls hammered into their place would hurt this bad.

She lay there like that for five minutes, emitting weak groans but otherwise completely catatonic. I didn't even know if she was conscious but grandpa stroked her cheek, rubbing a knuckle near her slack mouth.

"How are those hips feeling, honey?"

It didn't look like she was able to hear us for about 30 seconds but then her eyes went to half lidded, then rolled back in her head, and then she let out a long throaty moan that could only be described as pornographic.

"Ooooooooooh they feel so good, oh God it feels so good."

She let out another long moan and it looked like she was going to go catatonic again but this time with her eyes rolled back in her head and a mask of pure bliss on her pale features.

My grandpa turned to me and shot me an unexpectedly dirty smile for the situation.

"That's what she said last night. And that was the look she had on her face when she said it too."

My cock jumped in my pants so hard I was sure my grandpa had to see it. It was only that thought -- explaining to my grandpa why I was cumming all over his wife's hospital bed -- that kept me from nutting because...holy shit. I never ever thought I'd find my grandpa having sex with his wife hot but the idea of him pounding her mangled hips hours before they sliced them out just about sent me over the edge after everything else I'd endured over the last few hours.

I was thanking fuck I managed to hold it together when step granny emitted a strained chuckle and commanded her drugged features into what might pass as a smile. She let out another one of those long moans and I almost joined her as it sent a bolt of heat to my length.

"Give me a few hours and my hips can take you," she slurred. "They feel so good I'll take all of it, the whole thing, just give me a few hours."

It was a drugged old lady thing to say and, I can attest, would become a family favorite story of step granny's hip replacement tale once she was far enough from it for anything about it to be funny.

It was also the last fucking straw for my poor, aching cock. I didn't even have a chance to stop it. I was cumming, untouched, for the first time in my life, in the middle of relative's hospital room. And I wasn't cumming delicately or demurely, I was cumming like a fucking freight train, moaning, bucking into the air, and practically having a seizure as every fucking hot thing about the fucking hottest day of my life - which had basically been 10 hours of edging to a 15 year-old fantasy -- spilled over into the best and most embarrassing orgasm I had ever had, coating my boxers with a measure of cum I didn't know was possible to shoot out of me or anyone.

I was still jerking from the aftershocks when Marco, the nurse who I’d barely noticed before, put his shoulder under mine and held me up as I bucked involuntarily, spilling the last of my load. I had no idea what I was going to say to anyone but, for whatever reason, he was leading me out of the room, telling my bewildered grandpa I might be in shock from seeing step granny in so much pain.

Just as we were about to leave the room Marco looked at me knowingly, flashed a sick smile, and called back into the room, "now take it easy now, you two love birds. Wouldn't want to take those new hips out for a spin too soon!"

I groan as my poor, throbbing cock perks back up at the general implications of that and he grins like the cat that got the canary, clearly confirming to himself that I'm getting sexual pleasure out of this, as if cumming myself stupid in the middle of her hospital room didn't give enough of a clue.

He directed me into a nearby closet and I am about to open my mouth to explain why I'm not the worst person in the world for getting off to my grandmother's agonizing surgery recovery when Marco whipped his cock out and gave it a few fast, desperate strokes before pulling a face of relief that almost reminded me of step granny when she got the morphine.

"I'm sorry," he said, continuing to rut his massive cock desperately into his hand, "it's just she's so fucking hot, she's like a god damn fetish porno, and I've been hard as a fucking rock since she woke up and screamed "my hips, oh my god, someone put a gun up my vagina and exploded my hips!"

I heard that and for the second time in my life, and that day, I nutted my brains out without so much as stroke to my cock. He kept tugging on me through the aftershocks as he told about what she was like to recover.

He said it was like she could feel everything from the moment she was brought around on the table and that she started screaming for pain meds the instant she was extubated, while they were still suctioning out of her throat even. Marco started bucking into his own hand, his voice becoming uneven with arousal, as he told me the doctor kept insisting she had a nerve block and she was just being dramatic or was maybe even med seeking while she was laying in the bed, trembling, on the verge of going into shock from the pain.

His voice became uneven as he stroked himself harder and began to imitate step granny as she lay there screaming, groggy and deeply confused from the effects of the anesthesia. 

“I feel where they broke my hip!”

“Why is this happening to me? Please make it stop”

“Am I dying? I’m in so much pain I feel like I’m dying!”

By this point Marco had jerked himself into a frenzy reliving how she looked and sounded in the depths of her agony but he blew his load when he relayed the look on her face when she was moved from the operating table to the bed. She was evidently a little more aware than she should have been and, well, he was cumming too hard to tell me exactly what happened but it must have been brutal because he came screaming “my hips are shattering, my hips are shattering.”

It was remarkably chill between me and Marco after we both came down from fucking ourselves silly to our medfet dreams made real life. He was asking me about my favorite surgeries, how I realized medical stuff turned me on, if my granny was always so dramatic. I was telling him I knew her about as well as he did when he got a text that made his jaw drop. 

“Holy shit. Fuck dude. She wasn’t being dramatic. They just caught her anesthesiologist high in the parking lot. He was diverting during her fucking surgery.”

I look at him with a blank look. “What does that mean?”

He winced. “It means instead of giving her the drugs he took them himself. Everything she was supposed to get after and, holy shit from the way she was when she woke up, maybe from during the surgery too. Holy shit. I hope she had enough during the surgery. She did keep saying she felt everything.”

I felt my heart start to race as I thought I understood what he was saying but I asked him to clarify just to make sure I was understanding. 

“No wonder we were nutting over how hot she was being. She didn’t have any pain meds after the surgery and she may not have even had enough during the surgery. She wasn’t being dramatic, she was raw dogging a double hip replacement.”

For the third time in my life, and that day, I busted absolutely untouched in my pants. That was the single fucking hottest thing I'd ever heard up until that moment.

That is until three days later when I held Marco's cock and step granny's hand as she strained on a bedpan to take the dreaded first post-surgery shit.

"Oh God, I need an enema, I feel like it's breaking my hips!"

I quit counting how many times I came, untouched and otherwise, during her recovery as Marco and I got to know each other.

There's a reason we still refer to step granny's now long healed, ballroom dancing hips as "the hips that launched 1000 orgasms."

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You were a mess when they brought you in. Your hips were clearly dislocated and askew at a disgusting inward angle. You were bleeding internally into your belly and pelvis from the crush trauma . You were gaped from the birth and lying in a puddle of your own birth fluids. You were in absolute agony screaming "my hips, oh God my hips! oh God it hurts so bad!" and "ow ow oh God I'm still contracting, it's killing me, I think I'm gonna die!" We didn't sedate you before moving you to the operating table and you yelled out "OH MY GOD I FEEL MY BONES GRINDING TOGETHER" before your eyes rolled back in your head and you passed out.

You begin to truly wake up from the anesthesia about four hours after surgery when the nerve block started to wear off and you started to feel the the deep grinding ache in your hips from the bilateral hip replacement and the stinging fire of the pelvic fixator staked through your skin and bone. Your eyes roll back in your head in agony when your new hip is manipulated by the nurse for the first time, fire shooting up your back and down your thigh as the injured muscles object.

"Oh God please don't move me, it hurts so bad. Oh God please give me something for the pain!"

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Description: A teen boy discovers his birth fetish when he is forced to help his mom deliver his very large brother with no assistance during a snowstorm. 

Author's note: this is a birth fetish fiction that contains labor, delivery, blood and other bodily fluids, dramatic but non-fatal birth injuries, as well as mother/son dynamics and non-con. This is pretty fucked up but it's fiction and you have been warned so read at your own risk.

Dr. Johnson's First Delivery: His 24lb Brother

When people ask me why I became an obstetric specialist I tell them, bluntly, that at 13 I was forced to inflict heinous birth injuries on my own mother to deliver my brother and save both of their lives. I wanted to go to school so other women don't have to suffer like she did that terrible winter day. 

What I never say out loud is not a day has gone by since then I haven't nutted remembering the look of absolute agony on her red, tear stained face when his massive shoulders obliterated her nethers and left her gushing from the bloody, gruesome site that had previously been her pussy. Her screams as her tenderest tissues were ripped to shred still echo in my fantasies to this day. In a way you could say my birth fetish and my professional path were, pun intended, born on the same day as my little brother.

Mom started her pregnancy wanting a home birth, all the rage amongst her feminist witchy friends, but my brother's size and her advanced age had the village doctors so worried they demanded my dad transport her off the island and into a mainland hospital bed for a c-section at the start of her 9th month. She's been warned that between her narrow pelvis and the macrocephaly she would never survive a vaginal birth so they made plans to drop me at Aunt Jane's the afternoon of December 7th and be at the hospital for mom's induction at 8am the next day. 

Mom was 29 when she had me and, for 13 years, she and my dad thought they'd used their one miracle on my birth. Then mom passed out while teaching an astrology class and, one scary round of tests later, my parents were sitting me down to tell me I was going to be a big brother.

Mom, Adelaide to anyone else, was already the proud owner of of very large set of jugs even before she got pregnant. They wobbled under everything she wore and rippled out of the tight tank tops she liked to wear with the flowy handkerchief skirts she wore to the crystal shop she owned in the village. Before my brother wrecked her body she was middle size with a slightly protruding belly underneath her impressive rack that she tried to work off in the little gym dad built her on to the back of the house.

Pregnancy suited mom, at least visually. Her brunette waist length curls shone, her lightly freckled skin glowed, and her already sizable breasts doubled what seemed like overnight. Her bump wasted no time growing taught and bulbous and, by her sixthth month of pregnancy in August, she had a belly that already protruded two feet straight out and was beginning to challenge her balance.

But geriatric pregnancy, to put it bluntly, hurt. Adelaide grew quickly for a woman with a relatively modest build and, due to the sheer strain of the load, her hips and pelvis ached almost constantly and progressively worse starting in her third month and, by the last few weeks of her pregnancy, she was most comfortable reclined, hips elevated and spread to take some of the pressure off her aching pelvis. 

That's how I found mom when I went into her room to check on the progress of her packing and to tell her snow had started falling a little bit ago. She was wearing a gray sports bra that did little to contain her massive tits and a pair of blue flowly harem pants. Her bulbous belly, her deeply defined linea negra snaking down the front, was bare and, to my eyes, a lot redder and a little more swollen than I had ever seen it. Her back was arched, a look of pained concentration on her face, as she rubbed a spot on the bottom left of her belly. 

I got a little bit closer and realized she was moaning a little under her breath. I didn't realize at the time she was riding through a contraction or I might have encouraged her to call dad to come sooner. I just figured she was dealing with the hip pain that sometimes got so bad she cried that I decided she probably didn't care about the snow and went back to my room to finish packing my comics and unearthing from under the bed the Playboy I stole from by buddy Phil's alcoholic dad.

I don't know how long I spent packing but the next time I looked out my windows it was entirely white, the flakes so big and numerous I suddenly couldn't even see the 10 feet to the front gate. I rushed to the front door to fling it open and was surprised to find the snow already so high on the other side I couldn't get it open. A spark of fear shot through me and I immediate rushed back up the stairs.

I ran into mom's room and it was clear she'd fallen into a restless sleep. She was curled over her bump, her sweaty face screwed up in what could only be described as discomfort. She was still moaning under her breath.

“Mom, mom, wake up, there's a lot of snow. Dad needs to get here before they close the bridge.”

She startled awake, eyes wide, as she looked toward the window. She seemed to forget her heavily pregnant state as she jumped up to rush to it but was immediately felled by a contraction that ripped through her center and brought her to her knees. I could only watch as she fell to the floor and let out a primal wail that trailed off into agonized sobs as she clutched the offending bump.

She stared out the windows, crying, her face draining of color. I didn't know until later that was the moment she started to think she was going to die, killing my brother and leaving me alone with her corpse until dad could dig me out of the snow.

"Call your dad, Billy,” she stuttered, “I bet the bridge is already closed but tell him I'm in a bad way. I'm having strong pains and I don't think I can wait much longer. They may have to send a helicopter for us.”

She tried to smile at that last bit but she was already rubbing her belly vigorously and grunting through the start of another pain. I gave her one last worried look before running to the kitchen and grabbing the phone off the hook.

I was so distracted for a moment by the blizzard swirling out the window I didn't realize the phone didn't have a dial tone for at least 30 seconds. When I realized I threw it back on the hook and picked it back up hoping I had been wrong but I wasn't. The phone was dead, the snow outside was worse than I had ever seen it, and we were all alone. My mom let out a strangled cry from upstairs as if to punctuate the dire nature of our situation.

When I got back upstairs my mom had shed all of her clothing and was standing nude in all her preggo glory in front of the picture window in her room. The soft light from the snow made the stretchmarks crisscrossing her bulging belly appear purple and her long, thick nipples had flopped down the sides of her belly near her navel. Her 70’s bush was loud and proud, a thick black tuft protruding from between her full thighs.

“The phone isn't working,” I said, my voice trembling. I wondered if she was going to be scared but mom seemed like she'd been expecting it. She winced and nodded before motioning me to her side. She hugged me to her belly so that my cheeks and ear were pressed against one of her long squishy titties.

“Billy, I wish you didn't have to be here for this. I'm in labor and your little brother is starting to want out. It doesn't feel like I'm going to make it for dad or any help to come.”

I nodded, not really sure what that meant. I was about to ask when she went on.

"The baby has to come through here,” she said, leading me over to the bed and laying back on it before splaying her legs. She parted her the thick black pubes and opened her puffy lips to indicate her opening. I gaped at the show, unsure of exactly what she was telling me. 

“You brother's head has to go through that hole.” I opened my mouth incredulously and she gave a pained smile. “Yeah, it's going to hurt. A lot, when his head goes through. The pains I'm having right now are opening me up down there so he has enough room to come out.”

"Ouch,” was all I could think of to say, my eyes still fixed on the puffy pussy lips she never bothered to close. I didn't realize at the time they looked so plump and juicy because she was in the throes of active labor.

“I'm gonna hurt pretty bad over the next few hours while my body prepares to do that. Your going to hear me screaming a lot because your brother is technically bigger than my opening can take.”

"Is he gonna get stuck in you?” I didn't know why at the time but I distinctly remember my dick twitching as I imagined her screaming with a huge baby coming out of that magical hole she'd shown me.

She winced at the question, likely imagining something similar, rubbed the side of her belly, and took a deep breath. Her face screwed up and suddenly she was grabbing my hand. She put it on her hard stomach just in time for me to feel her muscles contracting like a vice. She yelped and arched back. I looked down at her snatch just in time to see a trickle of clear fluid come out of the hole she had shown me. 

The pain seem to last about 45 seconds and then she slumped down on the bed again. She smiled weakly at me.

"For now, you should ignore me. Labor can last a really long time and it's normal to yell a lot during it. I'm only really gonna be able to focus on getting through it. Can you entertain yourself and try not to worry too much yet?”

I nodded. I had big plans to play with my cock, which for whatever reason had chosen this weird time to be harder than I had ever felt it get, especially the longer I looked at mommy laid out hugely pregnant on the bed. I hoped she didn't notice it tenting my basketball shorts as I left but she was already back to rubbing the sore spot on the bottom of her bump.

‐——

I didn't realize it until later but mom must have had a strong nesting drive as she labored because she spent the next few hours tidying up the house, slowly moving from room to room and doing small tasks. Every ten minutes or so she'd stop, lean over, and moan through a contraction. She cast dismayed glances out of every window she passed, noting the snow was now up over two feet.

She enlisted my help to put a huge, thick plastic covering over her bed. When I asked what it was for I didn't expect her to say “all the liquid that's going to gush out of me when I deliver” and I almost popped my load at the visual of mom laying with her legs spread in a pool of her own birth fluids.

As it got dark outside something seemed to shift in mom's labor. She went from needing to move to tackle her pain and anxiety to the only position that was comfortable for her being reclined on her back, her legs bent at the knees. Even between pains she whined about the searing shards slicing through her back and, ominously, shooting down her thighs every other pain.

"Oh God, the back labor is so bad,” she moaned, rubbing absently at her puffy pussy. “I feel like he's wedged against my spine and oh, fuck it huuuuuurts.”

I didn't know what any of that meant but she'd gone from ignoring me to seeming to crave my presence so I gently soothed her belly as the next contraction took hold.

I never imagined someone could scream so much but it was like mom couldn't stop after a certain point. When I looked alarmed she explained to me she was in something called transition and the pains were going to be constant until the baby was out. Mostly her vocalizations were long, nonsense moans in time with the pains but sometimes she'd scream to God for help. 

Once she screamed “oh God, don't let him break my pussy” and I almost nutted right there even through I was sitting near her head and she absolutely would have noticed.

I nursed a semi for most of it but once she started pushing I was hard as a rock. The way she'd throw her head back and screw up her face when she pushed – while spread naked with her wet and puffy pussy on display – was the hottest thing I'd ever seen and even though I was sorry mom was in pain I hoped it lasted so I could enjoy the best feeling my penis had ever experienced.

I felt bad about thinking that later after what came next for my poor mom. It took her two hours of hard pushing to get the baby to her entrance. She was exhausted by the time his head settled deep into her canal, stubbornly refusing to breech that magic little hole.

“He's stuck in my hips!! His body's stuck  in my hips, I feel like I'm being impaled!”

She was reduced to weak, pitiful sobs as she continued to push fruitlessly. Finally, embarrassed and crying, she asked if I would take a look at her vagina to see how big the head really was and if it was out at all.

I tried not to seem overeager when I agreed but, looking back, mom wasn't in any shape to notice much about me. The bowling ball in her hips had her on the edge of her ability to deal with the pain and she probably knew, instinctively on some level, that she and her baby were in grave danger.

Since she was already splayed all I had to do was climb on the bed between her legs. The first thing I noticed was I could see the outline of my brother's head low in my mom's pussy but her little hole still look closed, if bloody. The second thing I noticed was that my mom's asshole was three times its normal size due to the pressure of the baby. It was bloomed out to the size and shape of a rose and was a delightful pink shade. I trembled as I watched her clench her ass cheeks against the pain of an incoming contraction.

As she started screeching from the pain I took the opportunity to look more closely at my mom's genitals and saw the nub I'd just recently learned drives women wild standing at attention, clearly under strain from the size of my brother's head. The desire to lick it, to lick my mom's entire laboring pussy from her blown out asshole to that sweet little nub, the clitoris, surged through me and I licked my lips. 

She had stopped screaming and was looking down at me staring at her twat with an annoyed look on her face.

“Well, uh, I can see the shape of the head down here,” I reported back up to her.

She arched her head back, frustrated, and hit the bed with her hands. “I'm bulging but I can't crown!”

I didn’t even really know what that meant but it made my cock jump. I gave an involuntary shiver at the shock of arousal and tried not to groan out loud.

The next hour was a master class in sheer determination from my mother as she pushed with all she had to get the head out, and me as I tried not to move and accidentally create an embarrassing accident with any friction in my pants. I didn't really know how to help but I kept my spot down near her pussy, watching the progress and occasionally wiping away the poop liquid that squeezed out of my mom's ass when she pushed.

I will never forget the sound of her screaming “I'm crowning” as my brother's huge head finally emerged to the eyebrows. My eyes rolled back in my head for just a second when I saw her like that, a massive head protruding from her most private area, screaming about how bad it burned.

She lay there like that, the head stuck in exactly that position, for another half hour. She was pushing with all her might but getting weaker by the minute. She was visibly fading in and out of consciousness when she grabbed my arm.

“Billy, you are going to have to get this baby out of me or both me and your brother will die. I'm gonna try to help you but we need to do this before I pass out from the pain.”

I nodded, hoping I am keeping at least some of the terror from my face.

“You are going to need to get down there between my legs and hold each of them under my knees. You’re gonna push them as hard as you can, on my count, back toward my shoulders and try to pop the baby out.”

I wince and she sees the doubt written across my face.

“No matter how hard I scream or what I say keep holding me in that position until the head pops out. I'm not gonna make it much longer if we don't do this.”

I put my fears aside and take my position. I look into my mother's pain filled eyes and down at the grotesque sight between her legs and steel myself for what I am about to do to her. 

She smiles at me, calls me brave, and counts me down. “3, 2, you can do this, 1.”

I don't hesitate. I force her legs back with all of my might and am looking right into her eyes when I hear her pelvis audibly snap as the head blows through her tissues and gets lodged in her entrance at the shoulders.

“My pussy just broke! My clitoris, you ripped off my clitoris. My ass ripped, oh my God. My clitoris!”

I wasn't even hard when I pushed her legs back. The seriousness of the situation and her mentioning death was kind of a boner killer. But visibly seeing her nub get ripped by the head and hearing her scream about it was the hottest thing ever in all of my life and I go from soft to hard as a rock to a screaming, bucking orgasm in a matter of ten seconds.

I’m humping the air, I'm sure my face is screwed up, and I've got so much jizz in my boxers I am sure it's about to spill onto the fabric of my basketball shorts but mom is in utter agony, having a seizure of sorts of her own from the pain of having her pelvis broken and her pussy obliterated by her son's massive head.

She's barely able to speak but she gestures to the baby and I know what I have to do. 

“I am so sorry, mom,” I say before I grab my brother's body and tug it out of her badly injured pelvis in one sharp motion. I see her eyes cross as the pain hits her and hear another ominous crack followed by the most agonized sound I have ever heard from a human mouth just before I am splashed in the face by a massive gush of birth fluids as my brother pops out.

I am dazed for a second, 30 seconds post the best orgasm of my life, looking at the bloody gaping hole that used to be my mother's pussy. She is gushing, more fluid than I ever thought possible, and I'm improbably hard as a rock again as some of it hits my face. I stick my tongue out to get a taste of my mother's amniotic fluids and groan as I watch a huge clot squelch out of her gaped pussy.

I look up at her and she is unconcious, her eyes rolled back in her head and her mouth open. I can see her still bulbous but slight deflated belly moving so I know she is breathing and I figure it's probably better for her to be asleep and not feeling how badly she's ripped down there.

I look down at my hands at my brother, who is huge, covered in something nasty, and screaming his lungs out. I've seen in the movies they usually put the baby on the mom's breast so I lifted one of mom's huge, milked filled titties and put his mouth near the long brown nipple. Shockingly, he latches and shuts up but mom never stirs. 

I dare leave them for a moment to run downstairs, grab extra blankets, and check the phone. It's still got no dial tone but the snow seems to have stopped so I say a quick prayer the phone starts working. I know my mom is badly hurt and I don't want her to die.

By the time I get back upstairs I've tamped down my erection with thoughts of my mom's death but, oddly, as soon as I see her splayed out in the puddle of fluids on the plastic, a baby hanging from her tit, and her belly deflated above the gore between her legs, I'm uncomfortably hard again.

I'm starting to notice how cold and wet it is in my boxers and I figure, since it's best she's asleep and we just have to wait for someone to come help us, it wouldn't hurt anything to do some exploring. I take off my shorts, my underwear, and grip my cock in my hand as I move over to mom to get a better look.

I'm curious if I really saw what I thought I did, which was mom's clitoris being ripped in half when I pulled my brother's head out. I open her pussy by pulling back her thick pubic hair and am greeted by what can only be described as a wound between her legs. She is visibly bruised and I can confirm her nub is hanging by a thread of skin. It looks like she might not even have two holes, anymore, either as the birth hole is split right into the poop hole.

I should be disgusted but I have to once again push down the desire to lick her clean of the blood and fluids. I chastise myself for being a horrible person when the thought of sinking my length into her injured slit runs through my head and makes my cock jump. I hiss at the arousal that pools low in my belly.

Instead I look up and realize my brother has drifted off to sleep and my mom's nipple has fallen out of his mouth. It gives me an idea so I stand, carefully pick him up, and tuck him into the bassinet mom had prepared earlier. 

I turn back toward my mom’s unconcious body and stroke her face, saying her name a few times, but she doesn't stir. Her breathing seems ok so I move on the squeezing the nipple my brother hadn't used but, again, she didn't even flinch.

I took that as my sign to give into temptation and shove that long nipple in my mouth, taking a long, satisfied, suck before letting myself lap at it as greedily as I wanted.

Whether I was milk drunk or just so fucking turned on I wasn't using my brain but I suddenly realized my mom was moaning. I looked up, nipple still in my mouth, expecting her horrified eyes to meet mine but they were still closed. I felt a movement down below and realized she seemed to be pawing at her belly in her sleep, like it was starting to hurt again.

I pulled back, looking at her struggle a moment more, and remembered she had told me in her final moments of consciousness that she would pass something called the afterbirth. She said her uterus would continue to contract until a big bag of what looked like blood came out of her. 

I looked at her belly and could actually see it moving. She moaned when it did so I figured those must be the contractions but she didn't show any other sign of really being awake. I said her name a few times, and slapped her cheeks. Nothing but the moans.

I knew what I was about to do was wrong but I also knew instinctively it would be a very long time before I got another chance for this perfect of a nut. I vowed I'd cum one more time and then go back to being a good son, clean her up and go check the phone again.

Mom had the hottest, deepest innie I have to this day ever seen on a preggo. At least 3 inches deep, purple, it looked more and more like an injury and less like a belly button every month and dad made fun of her about it. 

I had been riveted by the sight of it throughout her pregnancy but I didn't really know why. Standing here, hard and licking my lips as I watch her suffer through the afterbirth pains, I understand having a birth fetish is what's been missing from my understanding of my sexuality my whole life.

She's moaning louder now and I move, not wanting to miss my chance or lose my nerve. I straddle my mom's pregnant belly, my face away from her since I can't look at her while I do this, and let more of my weight than I probably should have rest on her straining belly. She let out a cry when I tried an experimental thrust into her belly button but still didn't show any other indications of consciousness. 

I moan along to her cries while I let go, slamming into her belly button hole as hard as I can, letting out a loud moan every time I hit the back of it. I can feel her uterus punching her internally as I jack myself into a frenzy on her hard, roiling belly. Her fat bloody pussy squelches with the thrusts until I finally see something large and maroon peek out of her entrance. I lose my mind for a minute, thrusting so hard her naked feet are bouncing 6 inches into the air every time I pound into her.

I didn't know it at the time but I could have killed her fucking out her placenta since she had a badly broken pelvis. All I knew then was how hot it was when the placenta breached her entrance and she screamed “my tears burn, oh God, my asshole my asshole MY CLITORIS!”

I blew my load, fucking so hard into her belly button hole as I spewed that I could hear the bed creaking. I was just coming down when I heard the unmistakable sound of a door opening up downstairs and my dad's panicked voice floating up the stairs. 

I have a sudden vision of him coming into the room while I have my dick in mom’s belly button hole, lazily circling the cum around in it, while she's unconcious with a placenta half way out of her. He would murder me.

I jump up, get dressed, and roughly rub my cum out of my mom's belly button with a towel. She moans at the jostling of her surely aching belly and I make a split second decision to leave the placenta hanging out of her since it's hot and seeing someone else take it out will probably be even hotter.

By the time my dad gets up the stairs I am sitting fully clothed, soft, and wide eyed by my mom's side, a scared boy who behaved like a hero for his mom and brother.

*****************

Mom made it through. A helicopter came shortly after dad got there and rushed them both to the hospital in the big city on the mainland. The medic pulled her placenta out before putting her on the stretcher and she moaned about it burning her tears again. They thought I had to leave the room because I was too upset but it was really that my traitorous cock was stirring again.

I later learned she had a tear through her anal sphincter and her clitoris had to be reattached. She also had to be fitted with a pelvic fixator to begin the long, slow process of healing her broken pelvis. My brother weighed in at 24 lbs and everyone said I had saved her life, even though my actions led to her heinous injuries.

My family worried about me since I spent so much time in my room after the birth. They thought I was traumatized but I was frankly so fucking turned on for weeks after that I was embarrassingly hard a lot of the time. I even busted a boner when they took me to visit her in the hospital and she was in stirrups to facilitate the healing of her broken pelvis.

I came down one day while mom was laid flat on her inflatable donut on the couch talking to her friend Maurine. She still wouldn't be able to walk for weeks. I overheard them talking about the birth and paused to listen at the top of the stairs.

“One weird thing they couldn't figure out is why my belly button was so bruised and sore. It felt like someone jammed something hard in there over and over again! They never could decide what happened.”

I clung to the wall as the unexpected orgasm hit me as I flashed on how it felt to fuck myself to orgasm in my mom's still contracting belly. I massage myself through the throes before heading back upstairs to get another pair of boxers….my 15th just this week.

[longhardtransitionreturns]

“It hurts! It hurts!” The sounds she makes when they move her while she’s stretching and crowning….

[longhardtransitionreturns]

Mpreg birth where bunny omega’s are the lowest class in society and have high fertility rates and so are forced to be surrogates and so their only purpose is to be bred and give birth.

***

The fucking had been brutal. He remembered how he had been bred by over 100 different Alpha’s in the course of 4 weeks. The intended parents had decided to stay for each and every time he was bred.

The breeding had been successful. And now 9 months later he’s in a similar position to when he was bred. Legs strapped wide in stirrups, naked except from the green hospital sheets covering his legs. The doctor geared up in surgical gear and scrubs ignoring him whimper as he gazes intensely between his legs, stretching his red burning hole wider. 2 nurses also geared up gripping his restrained legs on either side as three sets of eyes observe his hole as it stretches wider and wider.

The room is silent besides the beep of the heart monitor and his little whimpers.

“Please sir please let me push?” the question is asked meekly, as he squirm's trying to fight the burning sensation. The nurses both look to him and he gasps as one abandons holding his legs to pin his head to table before clamping an O2 mask to his face. Virtually stopping him from making any noise at all.

Or any protest.

He feels the doctor place his large gloved palm over his crowning hole before gently slapping his cock which had been taped back, causing him to flinch.

“Don’t Push.”

The command is simple, his voice cruel and cold as it tended to be. The only thing he could do is obey him- too weak and naturally obedient to resist.

“Nurse, get me the scissors and forceps.”

He gasped as he heard those words, eyes feeling with tears as he felt the nurse holding his mask push it tighter to him, to avoid him making unnecessary noise.

The doctor had always liked the omega’s to be nice and quiet. Either being fucked or giving birth it didn't matter.

He gasped lightly as he felt the cool sharp edge of the scissors run down his hot burning hole, teasing it over his taught skin stretching with the weight of his baby’s head as it sat heavy just outside his passage.

And thenthe doctor cut.

He let out a strangled scream, obscured by his mask as he felt warm red liquid run between his legs and into his ass crack, the uncomfortable sensation barely surpassing the cut of his skin the scissor shad made.

He was ignored as the doctor immediately forced the forceps into him causing him to cry out and shudder. The nurse holding onto his leg looking interestingly between his spread legs. And the nurse holding his head and his mask looking interestingly at the scene.

He felt himself sobbing at the sensation of it all. He really just was a breeding slave. That was the purpose he served.

He barely registered the distant cries of the infant as it passed through his hole, only whimpering as his hole contracted and burned, now cold and left open as the doctors and nurses attended to the baby, scrubbing it down and wheeling it off to give to the intended parents.

The rest was silent as the doctor stitched him up- his actions callous with no affection or praise, both the nurses cleaning him up.

In the end he was still strapped wide in stirrups, completely naked, the green sheets removed from his legs as the doctor discared his gloves and made his way to wash his hands at the sink.

“Wheel him up to the breeding room again.”

The nurses obeyed as they pushed his gurney into the hallway. His broken hole on display for all to see as he was wheeled to the breeding room- listening to the sounds echo off from that room from the slap of skin to moans, whimpers and screams.

He had resigned himself to his fate.

Hope you enjoyed!!

Holy crap did I enjoy! 🤤 That was so unbelievably hot. What a gift! Thank you for writing and sharing!

[longhardtransitionreturns]

I usually like long and difficult hospital births but there is also something really appealing about sudden, accidental public birth. Like just having my baby drop down into my cunt while I am grocery shopping and having no choice but to squat and start pushing. My screams of panic and pain draw a crowd and finally the check out lady has to help get my leggings off so I can crown my baby in the produce section. I just lay there screaming and moaning a huge head out of my hairy pussy while the other shoppers take video and blush about what a scene I'm making. By the time the paramedics get there I'm laying on the floor barely conscious with a big baby on my breast in a puddle of birthing fluid. I'm spread eagle, my brutally gaped and bleeding pussy bared for the world to see, and moaning about how bad it stings and that I don't want to plop out that placenta while I'm lying on a cold floor under the cantaloupe display.

[longhardtransitionreturns]

Author's note: This is birth and medical fetish fiction. It's all fake. Of course I don't want this to happen to me or anyone in real life.

It all happened so fast. One minute I'm up in the stirrups pushing my baby out and the next I'm flat on my back on a stretcher being rushed to the OR. My legs are bent at the knee and my baby's massive head is laying between my thighs in a puddle of blood.

Being moved like this, still conscious with a baby hanging out of me, is excruciating. I ripped badly when the head came out and my clitoris was almost entirely severed. I've got fourth degree tears through my rectum and, though I don't know it yet, my ureter is so badly damaged I'm going to be peeing through a catheter for a while.

I don't know why no one thinks to give me something for the pain but I'm unfortunately still awake when they transfer me from the stretcher to the operating table. My scream as my butt hits the table and the head between my legs is jostled jolts someone back to reality and finally the nurse grants me mercy and pushes the drugs to knock me out through my IV.

Minutes after intubating me, they have me back in stirrups and the doctor performs a long midline incision for quick access to my womb. My tits jiggle lewdly as they push my baby's massive head back up through my ruined pussy and out the bleeding, sucking hole in my stomach. It takes two hours to repair my vaginal and rectal injuries and close my abdomen.

When I wake up in recovery I've still got a tube down my throat, my arms are tied to the arms of the hospital bed, and I'm in agony. It feels like I've been flayed alive and that someone cut my genitals off.

The nurse notices I'm awake and pats my hand soothingly. "It’s ok, honey, you've got an epidural. Just relax and let yourself start to heal."

I'm still paralyzed from the anesthesia and the tube in my throat keeps me from saying anything anyway but the epidural is working about as well as it did during my birth. Which is to say, not at all.

All I can do is close my eyes and pray I pass out from the pain.

[longhardtransitionreturns]

I'm too weak to stand by the time my wife and our midwife decide it's time to transfer me to the hospital to give birth to our son. I'm splayed listlessly in the birthing pool, my red-rimmed eyes half slipped back in my head. The baby is lodged so tightly in my hips that any tiny movement sends sharp spikes of pain through my pelvis. Pushing is white hot fire and absolutely out of the question so I'm left skewered on the girth of my baby, too out of it from pain and exhaustion to have anymore input on what happens next.

When the paramedics arrive they do their best to hide their shock when they find a 350lb bull dyke with a buzz cut and biker tats inked across her swollen GG breasts grunting in a pool so small I'm touching all the sides.

They move away to confer, likely about moving someone my size, but I'm too out of it to be offended. My big, hairy pussy is bulged out so far it seems almost impossible there's no head showing. My wife Monica moves to my head and kisses my cheek. I can tell she's scared but trying to put on a brave face.

The paramedic who is clearly in charge, a tall, butch Black woman with short nails and even shorter hair, jumps into the pool and introduces herself as Jean before announcing her intention to check me. I'm briefly relieved another lesbian is going to be the stranger who is digging around in my pussy then I feel her fingers enter my overstuffed hole and I can't bite back a weak moan at the intrusion. She rubs my bulge gently near my clit and makes a shushing noise. My eyes roll back in my head involuntarily at the intimate touch. I'm hurting too bad for it to be pleasurable but it gives me a tiny ounce of relief nonetheless.

Monica is staring down at me with worry on her face when Jean announces to her team that the baby is stuck on my pubic bone and the first step to getting it unstuck is to get me standing. I barely have time to protest before the 3 muscled young men taking orders from Jean are helping lift my bulk from the tub.

Even with five people supporting my weight I am unable to keep myself from falling gracelessly into a wide squat as the weight of my huge child drops down even further. My bulging pussy hits the water as I feel the unmistakable sensation of urgently crowning what must be an absolutely huge head.

I'm screaming about the fire in my crotch as Jean takes one of my meaty thighs, the biggest paramedic takes the other, and the other two support my back as I am lifted, legs spread around my crown, onto the floor beside the birthing pool.

The best case scenario, Jean tells me over my screaming sobs, is that I push it out right here and she and her team give me and baby a ride to the hospital. It looks like that might work for a few pushes but I'm fading faster than before and don't have much to give in the way of help. She briefly considers forceps but would rather get me to the hospital if my baby is still in danger of breaking my pelvis when I push him out. She reaches inside my rubber band tight lips to feel where the head had previously been stuck on a bone and noticeably pales.

She doesn't say anything out loud to alarm me or my wife but she tells her team with harsh urgency that we are transferring to the hospital immediately. I'm being moved again, still with my legs spread wide by men on either thigh, on to a bariatric stretcher and rolled out of my living room before I can even think to protest being rolled out of my front door naked, my crowned, leaking pussy bared for for all our straight, conservative neighbors to see.

I hear Jean telling Monica and our midwife that they're going to have to meet us at the hospital. Between my size and the seriousness of my potential injuries, they need all the room they can get to keep me intact until I'm able to be rushed into emergency surgery.

I don't hear whether my wife argues or not because I'm being lifted up into the ambulance. The jostling sends a sharp, warning pain through my pubic bone and I scream for them to stop moving me. Jean yells almost at the same time, glaring at her subordinates. She orders them to freeze with my feet tilted up into the ambulance and then leans down to place her palm firmly against my crown.

The counter pressure immediately eases some of the burning sensation around my lips and the ominous aching in my pelvic bones. I lay my head back and groan at feeling, for the first time since I hit transition, some of the pain lessening rather than intensifying.

I focus on how good it feels to have Jean pushing back on some of the insane pressure in my cunny while they settle me into the ambulance. A strap is placed around my straining middle and the stretcher is locked into place. One of the nameless young men starts an IV as the sirens start blaring and I feel the ambulance start to move.

Jean, still holding my crown, tells me her colleague is giving me something for the pain and that a surgical team is being assembled right now to meet the ambulance and rush me into the operating room.

"Everything's going to be just fine, Libby. You and your baby are going to be just fine as long as you don't push. No matter how bad you need to bear down, you can't. You will break your pubic bone and probably your tail bone and you really don't want to do that."

I don't. I've already started to feel the effects of the drugs and I'm still in more pain than I've ever been in my life but there is a thin, hazy distance from it now. I feel the warmth of Jean's hand around my crown and I blink up at her with what I think might be close to a flirtatious smile.

"Just don't move your hand, baby," I mumble and she clearly understands because her cheeks redden and she cracks a wide, slightly embarrased smile.

"Alright, Sappho. Glad those drugs are starting to work."

I probably wasn't going to respond because I was seconds away from passing out when suddenly the ambulance is hitting something with extreme force and my gravid body is bouncing up into the air. I see, as if in slow motion, Jean's steadying hand get ripped away from my pussy.

I'm slammed back down on to the stretcher and, inevitably, my bones shatter. When they give way my baby is ejected out to his shoulders before anyone can stop him to try to spare me even greater injury.

I'm writhing and screaming incoherently as I feel Jean gingerly pull my son out the rest of the way. I can feel his heft shifting around pieces of bone in me as he slithers out and I am acutely aware how badly I wish I could lose consciousness.

I don't. When my son leaves my body to be handed off to one of the men and my clenching cavity clamps down on nothing, I am catapulted into another stratosphere of pain. I start hyperventilating and am barely able to understand Jean as she straddles the stretcher in between my legs and starts to touch my lips.

"Libby, hold on for me, honey. I'm gonna do something and it's gonna hurt like the dickens and then it's going to feel amazing. Just keep breathing for me, sweetheart."

Why I look down right at that moment I will never know but I watch her gloved, fisted hands plunge into my pussy and my asshole at the same time. I use my last remaining strength to wail in protest as it feels like a white hot iron is being rammed through my pelvis. Then she does what can only be described as a punch with the fist in my cunt and I almost throw up with how suddenly relieved I feel because of whatever Jean's hands are doing to hold my gravely injured body together.

Don't get me wrong. I'm still in agony. But between whatever Jean's fists just did and the drugs starting to kick in even more, I'm barely able to do anything other than lay there and whimper.

When we get to the hospital the medics have just taken me down from the ambulance when Monica runs up. She takes in Jean, straddling the stretcher in between my legs and then the position of her fists in both my holes. My face is a rictus of pain and shock and I'm horrified to discover I can't talk. I'm not even able to close my mouth when I feel drool slipping down my chin.

I look up at my wife, who's being handed our 15lb baby. She walks beside my stretcher as I'm rushed in to the trauma bay. I fight with all my will to be able to muster up the strength to say one more thing to the love of my life before the drugs pull me under completely. The fact that I'm about to almost die on the table three times because I'm silently hemorrhaging into my abdomen as we speak is the only thing that comes between me and divorce later so stupid were the words I chose to say.

"Jean's hands feel so good in my ass and my pussy. God, it feels so good."

[longhardtransitionreturns]

The hottest part to me of cis mpreg anal birth is how hard their cock must get because of the baby pressing on their prostate. I imagine being hard as a rock and also suffering through agonizing contractions is pretty overwhelming. If a guy is in transition and someone accidentally touches his cock, does he scream in agony or does it set off a mind blowing orgasm and a huge load? If he blows it while he's crowning, I imagine having to birth the shoulders with his overly sensitive cock jerking through aftershocks might not feel too good. How do you imagine anal birth feels on the balls? I've always wondered if men would be scared of them ripping or rupturing. Anyway, would love your thoughts!

thank you anon!! when i write anal birth it’s bound to always be very erotic because of these exact reasons. you’re spot on! the baby rubbing the poor guys prostate relentlessly. with every push applying a bit more pressure and then retracting again as the contraction ends. he’d be harder than he’s ever been in his life.

another thought that i’ve had is that what if while birthing, the baby would be applying so much pressure on the guy’s nethers that he is actually unable to orgasm before the baby is out of him. that would be such delicious torture. imagine labouring for a full day, prostate abused constantly. the head is bulging out of your anus, but it’s just not popping out. the pressure is agonizing, your balls feel like they could explode and your cock— oh god your cock is starting to turn purple at the head from the strain. it’s so hard you’re afraid to touch it. you know that no matter how hard you’d stroke it, your balls just wouldn’t be able to release while the baby is applying pressure in your perineum.

so hot 🥵

[longhardtransitionreturns]

Author's note: This is birth and medical fiction. It's all fake, just a fantasy. Of course I don't want this to happen to me or anyone in real life.

I'd like to have a high risk twin pregnancy. The type where I have to fight my obstetrician to let me try to give birth vaginally and then they try to insist I have an epidural so they can cut into me without delay if something goes wrong. I'll finally get them to agree to let me try it natural if I am invasively monitored throughout and I understand I'm going under general anesthesia the second things go south.

When the day comes for me to be induced, I change into a hospital gown & follow nurses instructions as they put IV ports in both of my wrists. I'm catheterized -- a situation that isn't made any more pleasant by the twinges already squeezing my middle -- and by the time I'm being strapped into the stirrups for the doctor to swipe my membranes, I'm so trussed up I can barely move.

It's my first pregnancy & I didn't expect it to hurt so much just to be pregnant. My hips have been sore practically the whole nine months, in part because of how heavy and low I am carrying the twins. Baby A practically lodged himself between my hips last week and the pressure has been slowly increasing. My breasts are cumbersome and it's painful to even feel the hospital gown brush against my areolas. By the time the doctor is settling between my legs to start my labor, I'm eager to face whatever delivery holds for me to make this pregnancy end.

I'm singing a whole different tune 16 hours later. Or rather, screaming one at the top of my lungs. I am in the throes of transition and suffering the pinnacle of a truly agonizing labor. Baby A is posterior and the pain in my back has me at the edge of my sanity, especially now that the contractions are lasting for 90 seconds, with barely a minute in between.

I'm incoherent at this point. I'm in so much pain I'm only able to think about surviving the second I am living. I'm minimally aware when the nurses move my aching body back into the stirrups so I can push my son into the world. I bear down at their direction and it feels like my ass is gonna bust when his head plunges down.

What actually happens is his precious posterior facial features lodge against my clit as a desperate push shoves him just past crowning and my poor little nub starts to sting. It feels like it's being ripped off and I'm humiliated to find I'm begging my doctor to save my clitoris while I'm straining a massive baby out of me.

I don't know how long I howl a about the pain in my clitoris but the next thing I know the doctor is roughly pulling the shoulders and then the body out of my hole, tearing me more in the process.

I'm aware that my aching canal is empty for the moment. I don't realize I am gaped so badly my asshole is almost inverted. It stings something fierce as birth fluids continue to pour out of my loose, sopping cunt. I start to cry when I realize I am still going to have to push Baby B through my ruined pussy.

I drift in and out of consciousness, occasionally aware of the sharp stab of a contraction. I wake fully to a nurse tapping my cheek to see if I've passed out. When I force my eyes open, she informs me Baby B isn't face down anymore and the doctor is about to perform an internal version. She tells me to brace myself because it will be uncomfortable.

I didn't fully realize the medical actuality of an internal version was for a grown man to stick his entire grown man hand through my cervix and into my uterus. I'm in such utter agony I barely register that the nurses are holding me down by my arms and where my thighs are not strapped to the stirrups. I am experiencing the most pain I have experienced up to this point in my life and it seems to last forever.

I never stop screaming, even when they put a mask pumping gas over my face to try to give me some relief, but the tenor of my yell changes when something shifts and then I feel something rip deep inside of me.

Suddenly all the pain that has come before pales in comparison to what I am suddenly feeling in my abdomen. It is indescribable burning combined with a sudden sense of dread that takes over my body. I am 100% certain that my reproductive organs just gave way with my daughter trapped inside me and I am going to die if something isn't done very, very soon.

It must only be minutes, maybe not even that long, that I lay there while the medical team catches up to the realization that me and my baby are in mortal danger. Time slows down and I feel the rip in my uterus expanding as the contractions, one on top of another now, injure me more by the second. Despite no medical knowledge, I know instinctively that the renewed flood out of my pussy is blood and I am hemorrhaging, possibly to death.

I am utterly helpless now. Strapped down in stirrups, paralyzed by pain, my strength seeping from me as fast as the blood flowing between my legs. I faintly register the monitors start to alarm as I lose the battle with consciousness and my world goes dark.

*******

I wake up groggy and disoriented on a stretcher being wheeled somewhere. I immediately start to panic because there is a tube down my throat and I am really, brutally aware of a long, deep vertical incision that extends from above my belly button down to my public bone. I swear I can feel the layers upon layers they sliced through to deliver my baby. I won't know until later about the battle the surgeons waged, first to save my life and then to save my fertility.

Right now I am only aware of how much it hurts to be jostled on a stretcher with a massive cut down my middle. When the two male nurses move me into the bed, I plead for unconsciousness as my body is roughly transferred to a bed. My tailbone hits the mattress and reverberates in the form of a sharp pain through my pussy. I've still got a catheter and I feel like every inch down there has been stitched up.

I hope one of these nurses will realize I am aware and therefore in indescribable pain but it seems like the paralytic they gave me before intubating me is the only drug of the cocktail still in effect. I suffer as they lift my hips and put a pillow under my butt. Then they start taking off my hospital gown completely.

My confusion quickly turns to fear as one gloved hand on each side grabs one of my fat titties and starts tugging. Breast pumps are whipped out and the men make quick work of shoving as much of my massive milkers in to each before turning them on simultaneously.

My uterus, even after the brutal surgical repair, still tries to respond to my milk suddenly dropping. The pain of contracting after uterine repair and a cesarean combined with the sudden gush of warm pressure on my aching tits brings tears to my eyes. I must be a strange sight: intubated and naked, massive breasts attached to pumps, with my deflated belly sporting a huge incision hanging above a pussy so bruised and stitched it looks entirely purple.

The elder nurse pats my naked thigh just before he makes to leave. It jostles everything and our eyes meet as I wince at the pain it causes me. A chill runs through my body as I realize he knows I am awake and feeling way more than I should be.

He looks at me the entire time he lubes his gloved fist, a sinister smile on his face. He settles between my legs and pauses to look up at me again.

"I bet you wish you'd had that epidural, huh, dear?"

My vision goes white as I feel his whole fist plunge into my pussy with a force absolutely intended to cause me a fatal amount of pain. My vision goes white and I feel pressure building in my chest as the stitches holding my cervix together start ripping. The last thought I have before I go into cardiac arrest is how I don't want to my last memory to be of being brutally fisted in my obliterated, post-birth pussy while my heart explodes in my chest.

[longhardtransitionreturns]

Hot phrases from birth videos that have stuck with me for years:

"My coochie hurts so bad! Did I rip?!"

"My clitoris, oh God, my clitoris!"

"Oh God I'm crowning!"

"My asshole is burning!"

What are some of yours?