WORD COUNT: 7k words
SUMMARY: Iris invokes a lord of the dark, a timeless creature from the abyss, in exchange for whatever she wishes. Nothing's free in this life, and the only thing Iris has to give in exchange is to carry the demon's offspring.
TAGS: fpreg, eggpreg, magical/supernatural pregnancy, sort of rapid pregnancy, sex scenes human/demon (tentacles involved), birth kink, graphic birth, orgasmic birth, nsfw, +18 content
A/N: The birth part of the story features Iris performing a ritual, and involves the presence of the demon along her side during the birth, plus an orgasmic birth. There's not really great detail into the demon, but there are mentions of tentacles and an overall Lovecraftian vibe to it. Full story will be published next week on the Ready to Pop tier!
Iris found herself pacing around the living room, to her bedroom, to her kitchen. Her steps echoing in the dark, she left the candle she was using in the living with the others. Almost frantically, her hands roamed from her back to her stomach, to her bare breasts and, from time to time, she found herself slowly cupping her pussy, grinding against her hand. Pleasure was a good antidote against the pain.
Now, a low hum vibrated in her throat as Iris rocked her hips in the air, squatting next to the couch as she practiced her breathing exercises. Breathe, hold, exhale. The pain was almost unbearable. She was still able to function through it, but these contractions were becoming the real deal very soon. Her stomach was tensing and spasming, sending pain through her body as she never felt before, none of her past pregnancies Iris had had such an... interesting labor.
Of course, her last pregnancies weren’t so inhuman-lish.
The contraction went away, and Iris slowly lifted herself from the floor, supporting herself with the cushions. As she was going up, a frown formed on her face when a trickle of liquid started to roll down her leg.
Her water broke.
"Fuck..." Iris sighed, staring at the puddle that was starting to form beneath her. "Well...shit."
In a matter of minutes, she found herself kneeling on the floor. Since her water broke, the contractions and the pressure were rising in intensity hand by hand. She placed the candles, one by one, in a perfect circle. Then, she used the already lightened one to light up one by one the others.
Right before she could finish with the last candle, a contraction took over her.
"Fuck...!" shouting, Iris bit her lips as she rocked her hips in the air, her body slowly squatting to the floor as she threw her head backwards, taking in a deep breath as the pain settled in her middle section. "Mhm..."
Shaking her head, she felt the wax of the candle on her hand falling to the skin of her thighs, and she let out another prompted moan at the feeling. Finally, the pain passed. With a small laugh, she reached to light up the last candle.
She stood up, a hand carefully pressed to her underbelly as she blew off the candle in her hand. She was almost there.
She paced, rocked her hips and panted through the next contractions. Every time she moved, she could feel the eggs inside her shifting in her stomach, eager to come out.
She could feel the first one slowly making its way down her birth canal. The pressure was slowly building up between her legs, nothing she couldn’t handle.
It was time. Her fingers picked up the small scarf that was resting on the couch. With ease, Iris tied it around her head, covering her own eyes and falling into the dark once again.
She found herself again in the penumbra, her eyes open and barely getting to see through the black veil. Through the fabric, she could make out the light from the candles, barely visible, deformed shapes and dull colors that danced in front of her.
She stood up straight, fixing her posture, and moved both her hands to rest on top of her stomach, firmly pressed against the skin. She turned around carefully, slowly, and took a few steps forward, trusting her intuition that she was now in the candle circle correctly, positioned right in the middle.
Iris took a deep breath at the same time a contraction hit her. She forced herself to remain straight, almost immobile, as her stomach tensed and she let the pain take over her body. Her breath hitched and pain leaked to her face, but she didn’t budge, remaining still.
She breathed. The pain went away. Even when the fabric was covering her eyes, she closed her eyes as she tried to focus again. For a moment, she listened to the sounds that surrounded her —the sound of the fire and the night birds grounded her— and then Iris recited the words.
Without missing a beat and with no stammering, she recited by memory the words of the book to invoke the Lord of the Dark. The foreign words, from a forgotten tongue, sounded familiar in her mouth.
When she finished, she was met with silence. The sharp whistle of the quietness pierced her ears, not a single soul moving, not even the birds outside or the insects in the yard. Iris felt as if, around her, time had frozen. Then, she felt a warm touch on her back.
A tentacle slid around her waist and another wrapped itself around her wrist, softly pushing her forwards. Iris took a careful step, but soon she realized that the grip the demon had on her body was guiding her, so she allowed herself to be led, moving to lay down on the wooden floor.
Her stomach contracted. The warmth of Shruvu’s touch had disappeared, but the presence was there. She could feel it, the air was different, and her surroundings had become smooth, intoxicating, making her feel as if she was wrapped in smooth velvet.
And it was everywhere.