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Birth Fetish Stories


One of the first accomplishments of feminism in the midth century was the legalization of female birth control. It was to open the world of free sex to the female population. No longer would be live in fear of pregnancy. No longer were the constraints of the "rhythm method" or other forms of "natural" birth control methods a problem; we could now pop a pi Note: The timeline of the story starts in August

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But first, Grace. She wants to be checked, longing to hear of some progress that she can use to encourage herself, but of course Dr. Lillian moans and tries to breathe, but the pain is spiking horribly.

7 cm dilated.

She feels no relief or relaxation from this faintest of respites, of her contraction relaxing ever so slightly, but she nevertheless feels the difference as she feels her belly renew its contraction and with it a renewed wave of anguish. Her hands squeeze her belly, as if pressing down could help her baby move down. Her back seems to shriek in protest. Lillian pulls herself onto the bed and lies back as Michael puts the pink ankle socks on her feet.

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Anderson seethes with frustration and guilt as she drives away. She falls back to a sitting position and pulls her head back again, moaning through her desperate breathing.

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Lillian continues to yell; the contraction is peaking horribly. Anderson prefers to be attending births, but she can enjoy subjecting her non-pregnant patients to discomforts all the same. But an examination for an already uncomfortable yeast infection, performed by a frustrated Dr.

She starts inserting the speculum slowly to maintain the illusion. And suddenly she feels pressure on her back again, a different but instantly recognizable hand.

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Lillian moans as she desperately forces herself to relax while she can. Possible yeast infection. Such a stupid mistake to make, not clearing out more time for Lillian. She moans as another contraction starts. Her feet are cold. Rocking back and forth. She breathes, eyes closed. The effort to even draw breath is beginning to overwhelm her.

She already takes care to make her pap smears slightly more uncomfortable than usual, enjoying cranking the speculum open just that extra millimeter.

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But for now she can only suffer through contraction after agonizing contraction slowly pulling her cervix open. She wails. Why did she not anticipate that Lillian might endure another long labor this time around?

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When every bit of comfort counts, keeping her feet warm can be the difference between enduring and breaking down. She groans and gasps before letting out a renewed yell.

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Her head spins and steam weighs in the air, straining her already feverish breathing. She wears nothing else and is too exhausted to put anything on. She yells. Lillian sits leaning against the side of the tub, hands gripping the edges.

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She leans against her bed, digging her toes into the carpet as she sways side to side. But as Grace begins to wince, she increases her force. The water splashes as her legs continue kicking out in pain.

She pulls her head back with a wail as her feet kick. Her tears spill out as the screen goes blank. Lillian nods. She has returned to her hands and knees, hands clenched into fists and braced in front of her while her feet kick behind her.

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The warm water soothes her body, aching constantly even between contractions. Her knees bend and she squats down, head pressed against the side of the bed. Her hands clench tighter. Lillian suddenly cries out and writhes, twisting her body to no relief against her relentlessly contracting belly.

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Lillian manages the weakest of smiles through the camera at Dr. I need you. She wearily pulls herself off of the bed. Lillian hurriedly pulls off her dress as Michael runs the hot water into their spacious tub.

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She pulls her head back and moans. She even had the benefit of having watched Lillian give birth to her first child, a long, intense labor that seemed to drag on endlessly.

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A steady breath. And then she cannot. She tries to rock forward and back, to do something, anything to move against the pain, but her motions are strained and erratic, nothing more than agonized reflexive struggles rather than the control and steadiness that she wants so desperately to regain. She yells, shouts, twists in agony and Michael is powerless to stop it. She sets the phone aside and wipes her eyes.

Lillian breathes, gasping and panting as her belly continues to contract mercilessly; whimpers and shouts break through her helpless, desperate breaths. Grace yells again, this time with a sob. Grace is wincing through a pained smile as she sits on the exam table, pants already discarded. Her hands grip the bedspread. Her legs are splayed, though her baby is showing no of emerging from between them.

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She only feels an everpresent contraction at this point, intensifying and relaxing in rhythm but no longer going away completely. Michael helps Lillian hastily towel herself dry in the dwindling time she has between contractions. Lillian straightens up with a whimper. Anderson presses on mercilessly with the examination. She grips the bedspread and squats down again.

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Squatting through her last contraction had helped somewhat. Her legs splay and kick, splashing in the water. Lillian grips the sides of the bathtub. Arriving at her office, she collapses into her cot, falling into a fitful doze. She whimpers in protest but cannot articulate anything further than that as she yells again. Her feet draw up behind her and thump the bed. She steps back into her bedroom and takes a deep breath free of the thick, stifling steam from the tub.

Her throat is burning from her yelling. She turns on her side, easing weight off of her back but doing nothing to relieve the agony in her belly.

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Perhaps getting out of the tub has helped advance the process. She yells louder. Lillian gasps the words out as the contraction recedes slightly. And a contraction starts abruptly with sudden intensity; Lillian instantly cries out in pain.

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She tries to relax, allowing the buoyancy of the water to caress her distended belly. Wincing, she takes the phone from Michael. She whimpers.

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Her birth canal has also stretched to 30cm in dilation, 20cm larger than what.

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I will be soon releasing a smaller multiple choice birth story to as a test to work out the kinks and also get feedback on the style.

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THE reason women give birth lying down has nothing to do with evolution or biology - it's all down to the fetish of one man.