i am a beacon of sin

There were 8 of you he fucked that night 9 or so months ago. 7 of your pack sisters and you. Only one pregnancy had taken – damn the poor genetics of Were creatures – so of course you were the centre of attention as the little gift he gave you grew inside. 41 weeks now of no shifting, being stuck in human form, watching your belly balloon out to this distended lump you can’t help but hold as another contraction wracks you from the inside.

You’re doing as tradition dictates – when it comes time to give birth you travel to the wilderness to become one with nature. You’re well aware of the process of giving birth - you’ve blended into human society for years as a midwife. You’ve seen – and helped – countless human babies into the world. But Were babies were different. Typically bigger for starters – though pregnancies for Were folk were so rare you had only seen 2 in your entire life.

Thankfully your species live a long time by human standards and have an innate ability to heal their wounds. But you still feel pain, and as the muscles cramping around your midsection finally relent you swear under your breath at the fact that Were creatures can’t use traditional human pain relief methods.

You’re the pack midwife but you’re joined by your mother on this journey as someone suitable to guide you through the trials of birthing. 2 of your pack sisters are along to provide support. And him. ‘Four-large-paws’ as he was christened by the pack many years ago – or his more traditional human name – Jack. This man was a hulking mass of a creature in both his human and wolf forms. Even transformed to a wolf as he is now, he was shoulder height with you. He certainly wore the dire wolf shape with pride.

He was our pack alpha. Our protector. Father of our spawn. Lets be honest - big wolf had a big dick which felt really good 9 months ago. Now his big baby had resulted in your monstrous bump sticking out in front, and the child you carried was wanting to get out and it fucking hurts.

You’d shed your clothes a long time ago. Even though you were outside in the breeze you were simply too hot. There’s a blanket on the floor you were resting on as you groan out loud both hands pressed tight into your belly as the next contraction picks up. They felt like they were on top of each other. The transition stage the humans called it. For humans it lasts a mercifully short time. You didn’t have the god of mercy on your side as you enter the second hour of non stop relentless muscle pain.

“How is she doing?” Jack asked, shifting from his wolf form to human, and as a result, as naked as you were. He’d just returned from another patrol on the outskirts of the camp, wanting to be actively doing something rather than sit and watch, feeling powerless.

“9 centimetres” replied your mother. “She’s almost there. I remember this stage with her. You want to give up but your body keeps constantly reminding you that you have a job to do.” You manage a nod in between your groans. It was a great honour to birth for the pack but why did it have to hurt so damned much.

You suddenly gasp as a splash of water escapes between your legs. Your waters had broken. Another step towards the end. The problem was that the cushion that the waters had once given you had also disappeared, and now you felt the baby within you grind relentlessly into your pelvis.

You have a moment of doubt wondering if your hips could even manage to birth this baby – you had an ultrasound last week which suggested it could be up to 12 pounds by human standards. Normally that would be cause for alarm and even suggestions that a natural birth would not be possible, but Werewolf babies were always born big and your species was able to cope, your hips separating, your ligaments loosening to accommodate the much larger infant within the birth canal.

You throw your head back and howl – as best as you could do with the vocal cords of a human, it was much easier as a wolf – as your hand reaches down between your legs, your fingers reaching in past wet folds of skin as you press into your vagina feeling for signs of the baby. You once felt the bag expanding out, thinking the baby was just behind it, but now you couldn’t feel anything.

You roll over and grunt as you push yourself up off the ground, the 3 other ladies jumping in to help you up. With their help you scramble to your feet between contractions and plod over to a tree, leaning against it as the next one picks up.

The liquids are still dripping slow drops from between your legs, so you stand with a wide stance, trying your hardest to keep it dropping on the floor rather than running down your leg and causing you an irritation – you had enough things going on to keep you annoyed with your body right now.

You breathe in deep, soothing breaths as you had told mothers to be countless times before and you couldn’t help but smile as you realize that whilst it's working a little, it feels like a whistle in a hurricane for the amount of difference it really makes to the pain you experience.

“Can I help pull it out?” Jack asked. He was certainly a good carer for the pack, but when he felt powerless, he reverted to type – overcoming something with physical power rather than logic.

“No child.” your mother responded. Normally the pack alpha would not be allowed to be responded to in such a submissive manner, but as your mother counted as a pack elder, she had more leeway than most – after all she had seen Jack grow from a pup herself before the death of the previous Alpha, where Jack had succeeded to leadership in a trial of combat amongst his peers. “A woman must face this trial alone. Mother Gaia would not permit the Were children to be cut out of their mother like the humans. The mother must bear the children as our ancestors did many generations ago.”

“Believe me, it fucking sucks!” you scream as you squat down lower using the tree for support as you let out an involuntary push.

“You’re close, push when your body tells you to” your mother jumps in, realising that you are close to losing all control and your body taking over.

“Never mind it telling me, it’s shouting at me” you gasp as you bear down again, fingers pressing tight into the bark of the tree, trying to do anything to help relieve some of the pain and frustration you were feeling.

The naked dire wolf turned human walked towards you and showing care and affection, he pressed his body against you, large hands covering yours on the tree. He took one and placed it on your belly, felling the muscles within tense and contract as you took the opportunity to yell in pain. His other hand held you up and kept you from buckling at the knees now that your bracing against the tree had been lost.

Oddly it helped you cope. You felt his grizzled bearded face press against your neck as you pressed your body back into his, his muscled frame providing you an anchor to focus on. Still the seemingly relentless pain ached your insides, and the scant moments of relief as you actively pushed seemed to provide less and less comfort as you felt yourself fill up inside, your labia bulging as the baby worked its way down your canal and rested just inside your opening.

You guided the hand that was enveloping yours from your belly down to between your legs, and you seperated your lips. You felt it then, skin within the fullness between your legs. You wrapped your whole hand around one of Jack’s fingers and pressed it into you so he could feel it too.

“Your… our baby” you gasped. You felt him hold you tighter.

His rough, calloused finger gave you an idea. You snaked your hips as best you could until it rested against your clit. The electric sensation as you felt him press against the engorged nub sent you shivering, but it helped take your mind off the sensations coursing through your body. He gladly picked up the pace, his finger pressing and jiggling the nub as you gasped – unsure if this was a by-product of the contraction or if he had managed to make you cum with only a few moments of attention.

The sensation was soon lost though as the need to push overcame you. You dug your feet into the ground and pressed your body back into Jack as if to provide a counter pressure to the downward force your body was exerting. The 2 wolf sisters who travelled with you almost shouted in unison “I can see it” as your lips finally parted by themselves and allowed the first glimpse of the baby you bring into the world.

“Good job my spark” you mother used her pet name for you to try and keep you motivated. Your pack name was “Thunder Shower Lightning” to signify that you were born in the middle of a terrible storm, your own mind thinking if your mother had it any worse than you giving birth in the middle of a rainstorm – at least the water would have been cooling you feel, as the heat of the exertion you are doing continues to fill your body.

5 more pushes happened, 3 contractions, you feeling like they were almost on top of each other with no time to rest before the next update was given from group watching you. “Thats not a head” shrieked one of the 2 Were sisters. You knew this of course. You were aware from the ultrasound you did on yourself that the baby was breech. It didn’t change anything, you still had to push it out. The baby, a son you knew, though you were forbidden from announcing it to the pack, was frank breech – he was essentially folded in half within your womb and this feet were up next to his head. You knew it was going to be tough and had been mentally trying to prepare yourself all week for the test your body was going to be put under.

“You knew?” your mother asked you. You manage a nod as you push once more. You squat down further – at least as much as Jack’s enormous frame will let you sink low – and scream.

The child is massive. Its buttocks and legs combined easily wider than the head. You felt a searing pain in your crotch. “She’s torn” one of the two Were sisters announced, blood evident now on the ground. Nothing for it now though, you’re stuck this way until you push the baby out, so you grit your teeth and scream through the pain. You hoped that the tear would at least allow for easier passage of the baby, but no such luck, you still had to push hard, almost as if the angle of the baby had his feet bracing itself against your insides.

The next push you feel the baby release further. “We have a boy” announced the other Were sister, the babys genitals exposed between his tucked-up legs. You’re certain that Jack held you tight all over again.

You tugged your arm forward screaming “let me go” as Jack released you and you fell forward onto your knees, yelling in pain as another push forced yet more of the baby out. You had birthed your son to his chest, and you felt exhaustion closing in with the amount of effort you needed.

“Shall I pull” Jack announced.

“No!” came a chorus from the 3 other women who were in the process of moving around.

You placed your hands on the floor and leaned forward to a hands and knees position as you pressed your butt down closer to the floor, opening the width between your legs trying to give as much room as possible for the combined width of the babys chest, shoulders and legs. With a triumphant scream the blood and vernix covered mass slipped out from between your legs, leaving you panting, gasping for air.

Jack reacted first from all 4 of the people in attendance and he held the body of his son reverently between your legs. Your mother was checking for the cord to ensure that there was no risk to the child. You continued to gasp, big heaving pants sending your breasts and belly quaking back and forth.

“Almost there” your mother advised you. That’s when you realised that you still had to birth the head. The part that traditionally takes the longest, the biggest stretch. Your body’s next contraction a reminder that there was also no way to prevent it from happening.

You had a moment of panic. None of the 4 birth attendants had ever dealt with a breech before. You were the only one who knew what to do. Your mother had only had 1 child – you – and you were born traditionally head first.

“Take the…” you managed to start the sentence before you were cut short by the scream of a contraction. “support the weight as I push” you finally gasped as you steeled yourself for the next contraction. The baby was lifted so he was perpendicular to it’s direction of movement, Jacks long fingers cradling the entire body.

“Someone get their fingers in and press my lips, give the head as much room to pass.” you managed. You felt smaller, more delicate fingers, no idea who's, slip into you and then searing pain as they stretched the tear further apart. You howled out loud, certain you were almost going to black out from the pain, but you held your breath and pushed with the contraction.

You held your breath and pushed. The pain made your head swim, but Jack’s voice rang out and pierced through the fog. “Here he comes, keep on going.”

The head pushing through your lips caused the tear to open further, blood free flowing down your legs, your voice caught in a silent scream, your throat raw due to the amount of yelling you had been doing. You feel the mass push through your legs. Each fraction of an inch was excruciating, but finally, with a sense of relief you didn’t think was possible, the head passed through your opening and into Jack’s hands, the umbilical cord pulsing as the baby takes its first breath, a shrill cry escaping its lungs.

Your wobbling arms couldn’t hold you up anymore as you planted face first into the ground, panting and sobbing. Your ass and crotch were poked in the air as your mother clamped and bit through the cord, symbolic of the cycle of nature.

You rolled over and stared at the group of 5 now, the size of the baby in Jack’s hands twice the size of any newborn you had ever seen birthed by a human. The tear between your legs was already starting to heal now it hadn’t been stretched in a few moments, the pain reducing to a dull ache. Jack passed the baby to you as he latched to your breast.

“We need to think of a name for our son.” Jack spoke. “Something to symbolise the day.”

You grinned. “There is no way I’m calling my firstborn Bloodsoaked Crotchripper.”