My Master (intersex x woman)

Chapter 17- Two Tales

Emily groaned before letting out a scream. Her body was convulsing wildly. Pain, so much pain. She laid in a puddle of what appeared to be blood and some sort of fluid. Annabelle sat up beside her, completely startled at the sight.

It was happening. It was finally happening. She'd been expecting it. Hell, she even had a countdown going. But now that it was happening the dark-haired woman was terrified. In an instant, she was standing in Baptiste's room, startling the old man awake.

"I think the baby is coming." Anxiety clawed at her throat as she spoke. "Where are your things?"

The greying man sleepily motioned his medical bag that lay in the corner of the room. Annabelle grabbed the bag, picked the man up by his nightgown and flittered back to Emily within a few seconds.

The quick movements were enough to shake the sleep right out of Baptiste's eyes. The older man had been surprised to meet the blonde thrashing in the middle of the bed, her screams echoed against the walls of the room.

Emily's silk sleepwear was drenched, but she didn't care. The pain was unbearable. Is this what dying felt like?

The Maester quickly emptied the contents of his bag on the couch the blonde had found comfort in the past few days. He mixed some dried herbs with a colourless liquid, which piqued the interest of the Queen. Annabelle grabbed his wrist, her grip felt almost like a crushing weight.

"What is that? What are you giving her?"

Baptiste raised a brow at her, intrigued at how paranoid the Queen acted. He had never seen her like this, and he'd been around long enough to have been a part of her marriage to the late Victoria.

"It's for the pain." The man snatched his arm away, moving towards the bed.

Annabelle found herself on the other side of the bed, holding the young woman's hand. She should have told her, warned her. As time drew nearer, Anna grew more and more anxious. She sat beside the young woman who clenched her hand as though her life depended on it—and it did. She stared at Emily; pain visible in the blonde's eyes, her hair pasted against her skin from the sweat on her forehead. It was no secret that the Queen had grown increasingly fond of Emily. She recalled the last few months, and how her life has forever changed since meeting the younger woman.

From their very first meeting, to their very first sexual encounter, to her carrying Annabelle's child. It all flashed in the woman's mind as she chided, and softly pet the skin of Emily's hand.

Baptiste fed the mixture to the young woman, which somehow saw her soothed within minutes. There was still pain, she could feel the 'bearing down' sensation she'd heard so much about. Emily's legs opened wider, as if they had a mind of their own and then she felt it. Pressure. So much pressure, it was unreal.

"He's coming!" Baptiste held a towel between the blonde's thighs, bracing for impact.

Emily had no time to feel self-conscious, after all her legs were spread wide open. She just wanted him out. She wanted that baby to get the fuck out.

She inhaled and exhaled deeply, Anna's soothing voice coaching her to take slower breaths. The woman did her best to calm Emily down, but the blonde really didn't want to hear it. She didn't want to hear anyone's voice, or anyone's instructions. She didn't want to hear shit from anyone who wasn't forcing what felt like a big-headed baby from their privates.

The pushing continued; the screaming intensified. There was a final gush and Baptiste gently tugged on the infant, landing him onto the fresh towel he'd smartly placed ahead of time. Emily appeared weak; her body completely spent. Annabelle stood beside Baptiste as he held their child, wiping the infant mostly clean. Before the Queen could reach out to hold him, she caught a glimpse of Emily's eyes rolling shut.