Round two?

Unfortunately for you, this was not even remotely the end of it. The whole rest of the day was spent doing nothing but fucking you every-which-way. As the sun final began to set, your mother hastily put your clothes back on, walked you out the house, shoved a $100 bill into you bikini top, whooshed you luck, and closed the door in your face. You were now all alone, stuck forever as a pregnant Asian teen.

Your life from that point on was never even remotely the same. Lacking any sort of means to prove your existence and remaining completely mute, you made your money by fucking customers wherever and whenever. In alleys, behind dumpsters, public bathroom stalls, you’ve done it all.

After 16 weeks, you start to show. Being pregnant was a strange and alien experience, and having to go through it all alone emphasized that feeling.

Nine months later, things finally come to a head. Despite being almost ready to burst, you were always in need of more cash. You’re in some filthy back alley, getting railed from behind by some nameless Joe, when suddenly you feel immense cramping. You make your client pull out and as you take a seat on the alley floor another wave cramping rolls over you, far more intense than before. You can’t deny it, you going into labor.

You turn to ask you client to drive you to a hospital, only to find he’s already taken advantage of the situation to leave without paying. A sense of dread and terror fill you and you wave after wave of labor pain racks your body. You lie down on the ground and start trying to control your breathing. Your going to have to do this yourself.

The birthing process is long and hard. There are times when you almost pass out from the sheer pain. You know your water has broken when gushes of clear, odorless liquid spill out of you. You labor on from midday to well trough the night. Then, as the sun is beginning to rise, and you are beginning to pass out from exhaustion, with one final act of strength you expel your child from your body.

Utterly exhausted, you lean yourself against the alley wall and take your newborn into your arms. Your child looks so strange to you, such a small thing covered head to toe in blood screaming it’s heart out. Much to you relief, it seems to have taken entirely after it’s mother, not so much as a single hair seems to resemble it’s father. The umbilical cord is still attached as you have no way to cut it. Oh well, that should stop being a problem when you have your afterbirth. You raise your crying child to your breast, and feel a slight joy as it latches and begins to suckle. Tears slowly drip down your cheeks. Finally, you were no longer alone.

The End