g s fur art 3dcg f rp req p2p dis lit kaki lg
[Home] [Search] [RSS feed] [Thread List] [Catalog] [Admin]
[Return] [Recache]
I've never written a multiple victim story, because each victim deserves her own individual experience. I've been inspired by real world events, though. I'll let you guess which ones.This was supposed to be a short story, but it didn't work out that way.

d udet


Childbirth Goddess Class (preggo, shotgun, knife, mostly NC)

The six of us were getting impatient. Stephanie, our childbirth instructor, was already 15 minutes late. She told us that she would send an update if she went into labor herself, but there were no on her feed since last night. We sat on our pillows on the hard chairs, our mats at our feet, talking about the things third-trimester moms usually talk about.

Cecelia's stretch marks were driving her crazy, the way they showed up on her pale skin. Her face was covered in freckles, and when she lifted her blouse, the stretch marks shot between the freckles like lightning bolts. She had the kind of red hair that could only come from genetics, not a bottle.

Evangelina's long hair was dark as night. Her blouse was too small, revealing the curve of her brown belly and the dark line from her navel down to her sweatpants. She always seemed worried about saying too much about her family, so I figured she must be undocumented.

Helena could not shut up about going to the beach, or the gym, or some expensive restaurant. But all of that was as fake as her blonde hair. I realized she was making it all up when she talked about jogging. With tits like that, and eight months pregnant, she could barely waddle like the rest of us.

On the other hand, I could listen to Natasha all day. She had that Eastern European accent that sounds so exotic. Her real name was something unpronounceable, so she told us to just call her Natasha. She was the furthest along of all of us, and so big that I thought she must be having twins.

I was sitting next to Natasha, answering her questions about my experience as a black woman. "Shannah, do you sleep on floor? Because of gun shooting?" If anyone else asked me a question like that, I would tell them to get lost, especially because the answer wasn't something I wanted to admit. "Sometimes, yes". But there was something about how open she was. She wasn't trying to score woke points, she just really wanted to know. It was good to talk to her, and it was nice that Cecelia was listening in. Helena, though, clearly didn't give a shit.

On my left, Mitsuko looked like a porcelain doll, and she was nearly as quiet. She blushed every time Stephanie said "vagina", and I wondered how she had even lost her virginity. Her baby belly looked like a watermelon tied to a broomstick.

Finally, the door flew open, and a stranger waddled in, carrying her pillow and mat. She was as far along as any of us, and her brown hair was pulled back in a hasty ponytail, as if she had just woken up. "Sorry I'm late," she said, as she locked the door behind her. "So sorry! Stephanie went into labor so quickly, she barely had time to tell me where to meet you. I'm Angela." We all said hi, and did a quick round of introducing ourselves and our bellies. Angela told us that she worked with Stephanie, and that they had gotten pregnant at nearly the same time, then she suggested that we get started with the class. "I've got a short class planned, but you'll all be ready to pop when we're done!" That brought some smiles, since even at barely eight months, I was ready to have this baby born.
Category: pregnant, shotgun, knife


First[1] Last