It should go without saying that these are fantasies -- I'd never want to endure this in real life, nor would I ever want another woman to go through anything like this.
My most recent fantasy involves twilight sleep, a horrible practice from the 1950's and 60's where women were given a mix of drugs during labor and delivery that made them forget the whole experience. It was said to relieve pain but, in fact, the women were suffering natural labor and delivery, just too drugged out of their minds up to make any sense out of the whole thing.
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.
I'm in transition for almost an hour, the contractions hard and constant. At one point they put me on oxygen because I'm hyperventilating from not remembering to breathe between screams. Then I start to feel the intense pressure of needing to push, which I do for almost forty minutes before the searing pain of my first baby's head stretching my formerly tight hole hits me. It's a looooong crowning, followed by stubborn shoulders that spread me so wide I could swear my pelvis is breaking.
The second baby comes quickly, far too fast for my bruised, aching cunt hole. By the time the shoulders come out I'm sobbing in agony, pleading for the pain to end. The doctor, ready to go home, jerks the baby out too fast and causes a deep, angry tear all the way to my asshole. I whimper and moan as I wait for the final baby to come but, despite the hard contractions and my body's innate attempts to push, it doesn't. Finally the impatient doctor has had enough. He snaps on an elbow high glove and plunges his hand deep inside me.
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.
When I wake up, I remember nothing but, even with the ice packs on my poor pussy and anus, I'm in terrible pain. My insides are sore from the contractions and it feels like someone shoved something huge up there. My tits are full and aching, my arms and legs sore from pulling on the restraints. I ask every nurse I see if something horrible happened during my labor and delivery because feeling like this simply can't be right.
They all smile and pat my hand as they tell me it was a perfectly normal birth and I was such a "good girl" through the whole thing.