The Virgin Unbirth

"Theresa!" I heard Deb call.

The womb wall pressed in against us. Theresa's hand was against it. We could see the fingers through the womb's wall. We could even see a vague impression of the bedroom through a rose tinted fog.

"Can we talk, please?" Deb continued.

"Yes."

We all heard Theresa's reply. Unlike the "talking" head to head with the girls, Theresa's voice seemed to fill the whole of me.

"Can you tell us what you have done to us - " Deb paused " - and why?"

There was a long silence. Then we heard Theresa crying softly. Her reply was in a whisper yet we heard it clearly.

"I've unbirthed you. I had to. If I hadn't I would die soon."

There was another long silence. Amy pressed her hand over my mouth to remind me not to "speak".

Then Theresa spoke again.

"You deserve an explanation. After all, you are my friends and Keith seems to be a very nice person as well. How many men would come out on a wet Sunday morning just to redeem a promise he'd made at a party the night before? It's going to be a long story. I'm going to go through to the kitchen to make myself some real coffee. I'll need it to help me through. No one except my mother and father could talk to me about it. It'll be a strain to talk to you but you're not going anywhere, are you?"

We heard Theresa laugh. It wasn't a laugh of joy or triumph. It was the laugh of someone on the verge of hysteria, laughing so that she wouldn't break into uncontrollable tears.

She continued with a catch in her voice.

"Please wait just a few minutes while I make the coffee and make myself comfortable. Then I'll tell you everything - my life story and the curse of my existence. You'll wait till I'm ready?"

It was a plea.

"Yes, Theresa, we'll wait."

"Thank you, Deb."

We felt Theresa walk through the flat. It was quite a pleasant ride. We were cushioned by the fluid we swam in. I was still tightly held to Deb by Amy and Cheryl. The four of us were swayed around the womb. I can't describe the sensation accurately. Swimming in a calm tropical sea comes closest.

We heard the coffee as Theresa swallowed. We could hear many of her body noises around us. The loudest was her heartbeat. That rhythm was constantly with us. It pulsed into us through the umbilical cords attached to our navels. It was soothing, like waves gently breaking on a shore. Her other noises were more distant, muffled by the fluid.

We felt Theresa sit down. The pressure around us increased as the womb adjusted to her seated position. Then her hand touched her belly again. We swam to the wall and positioned ourselves carefully with only Deborah's head touching, our heads touching hers but not the wall.

"OK." we heard "I'm ready now. Can you hear me?"

"Yes, Theresa" said Deb.

"Here I go."

A pause.

"I suppose I'm a sort of vampire. Not the usual sort that has to drink blood or beware of garlic. It's a female thing. Only the women of our family have it, and only a few even then."

Theresa paused again. Deb gestured to us to keep quiet.

"We can eat and drink normally but something is missing from our diet. Without it, we die. It's that simple. We don't need the "something" until a couple of years after puberty. Then we HAVE to have it in increasing amounts until the menopause. After then we can survive without. We don't even need it during our periods. The rest of the time we MUST have it. There is a temporary patch and an alternative to the "something" but the alternative is even more drastic. Am I being too obscure?"

"No, Theresa" said Deb "Tell it in your own way."

"Thank you. I think I'm going mad, talking to my belly. I know that you four are in there but it still is unreal."

'Not as "unreal" as it is to us' I wanted to shout. I controlled the impulse. I knew that Deborah was playing it just right.

"My mother was one of us. Until a year ago she thought that I wasn't. When she realised I was she thought of killing me. My father stopped her. That must seem odd to you, Deb, because you know that my father left her two years ago. How could he stop her a year after he'd left? The answer is simple. He hadn't left. He was still there. But no one saw him. How?"

Theresa stopped again. We heard the coffee gurgling down.

"I'd better say it outright. What the "something" is that I need and that my mother needed. It is sperm. I need a man to deposit his sperm in my vagina. So far I think I need sperm once a week. Soon I'll need more sperm. Eventually I'll need sperm twice a day."

Theresa voice had changed. She spat out the word "sperm" as if it defiled her lips. Each repetition was emphasised more strongly. She hated the idea.

"The thing is that ... "

There was a long silence punctuated by sobs.

" ... I'm a virgin."

Theresa's body shook as she started to cry loudly.

We huddled together as the fluid washed us around.

Theresa stopped crying after a few minutes.

"Stupid, isn't it. I'm a virgin and yet if I don't get sperm inside me I'll die. You might ask why I'm still a virgin. No. Don't bother to ask. I'll tell you.

My father was ill when I was about ten years old. I don't know what illness it was but the effect was that he became impotent. My parents tried everything. Nothing worked. My mother was frantic. If she didn't get laid daily she'd die. She seduced so many friends' husbands that she didn't have many friends left. She needed a virile lover - every day. She couldn't find one. She was losing her looks because she was worried that she'd leave me motherless.

Eventually she went out on the streets as a prostitute. Even then most men wanted to wear protection. That was no good for her. She needed unprotected sex daily. She knew that she was running a risk of catching something unpleasant or even AIDS. My father stopped her but too late. She already had survived several infections and her body chemistry was failing. She wasn't getting enough sperm even when she paid for it.

My father reminded her of the alternative. She was horrified but he insisted. Before I tell you what they did I'll give you some idea of what her relentless quest did to me.

I was reaching puberty at the age of ten. In the next few years my mother was screwing any man she could get her claws into. It wasn't a good example for a growing daughter. I don't blame her. I just know what it did to me. I hated men. I hated myself. I hated my mother for what she'd become. I didn't want that to happen to me.

She didn't tell me what our "curse" was. She hoped that I wouldn't have it. If I never developed it then she wouldn't have to tell me. She didn't think further than that. She intended to tell me when I started dating because the "curse" can skip a generation or even two before it is out of the female line. I didn't understand why my mother was chasing men. I thought she didn't love me and she didn't love my father.

Then disaster struck two years ago. I had "it". My mother was not well. Father was impotent. If he hadn't been he might have cured her. The temporary patch couldn't be used unless my mother was fighting fit. There were no relatives in this country who could help. There was no solution to their problem. My mother would die and so would I. I could have been sent out to find enough men to keep me alive but ... they didn't want to do that to me.

Father solved it. The alternative is to unbirth someone. If mother could unbirth someone then the essences she absorbed would heal her, make her fit enough to provide the temporary patch, and might even last long enough for her to reach the menopause. She wasn't strong enough to unbirth anyone who had any resistance at all. Unlike me, she couldn't overcome even a sleeping person.

Now you know how my father could be there and yet not be there. You are in the same position as he was. My mother unbirthed him with his willing consent."

Theresa stopped.

"What is the temporary patch?" Deb asked.

"Oh that. For a few months, if you have the "curse" and are fit enough, you can keep another sufferer going by breastfeeding her daily. My mother did that for me but she could only because my father had sacrificed himself for both of us."

"Your mother died ten days ago, didn't she?"

"Yes, Deb, she did. She never made it to the menopause. I didn't know until the last few days just how much feeding me was doing to her. My father's gift would have lasted, but not to feed me as well. When I knew what they had done I used to talk to him as I am talking to you. He allowed himself to be fully absorbed by her a few months ago. He hoped that she'd survive, but, as he told me, he'd rather go that way than die inside her dead body. He wanted to go with her as a part of her. She rallied after he went but I think he took her heart with him. After she'd lost him she wanted to go too."

"I'm sorry, Theresa."

"Thank you, Deb. When she'd gone I felt very alone in the world. I couldn't tell anyone what I was. I had no contact with any of my relatives. I was wretched. I was ill as well but I didn't know. I looked fit enough but the "curse" was eating away inside me. Last night ..."

"What about last night?"

"Last night I was insane. I was insane with grief, insane with the knowledge that I needed a man's sperm inside me, insane because I couldn't face that idea. I hoped that I could find someone to unbirth. One person would keep me going for months, perhaps even a year. My mother had given me clear instructions on what to do if ever I needed to unbirth. She even gave me the drugs to use in your drinks. You all seemed so happy last night that I wanted to hug you all. Yet I was unhappy and dying. My insanity came up with the solution. I could hug you all permanently. Three healthy girls would keep my alive for years. Beyond that I didn't think. I couldn't. It wasn't me. It was the "curse" inside me. If I could undo it and live ..."

"Could you undo it?" Deb asked quietly.

"I think so. My mother said that it is possible. She wanted to do it to father if ever she got fit enough to do without him. I think that it gets more difficult after a long time. She couldn't have given rebirth to him before she died. She wouldn't have had the strength."

"How much strength do you need?"

"It's not as bad as an ordinary birth. You are smaller than real babies. What my system has done is remove almost all the water from your bodies. The effort comes from rehydrating and regenerating your full size bodies again. That isn't supposed to be painful, just very tiring."

"So you could rebirth one of us? You don't need all of us."

"I suppose so. However there are real problems. How do I account for four missing people? If one came back would that one keep quiet? I don't even know what I'm going to do when Gabrielle comes up to call Keith for lunch. Now that the effect of the "curse" has gone I'm rational. I can't see how I can escape punishment for what I have done to you."

"I can" said Deborah.

"You can?"

"Yes. Now you'll have to listen carefully to me. We want to be out of your womb. We want to live. So do you. We want you to live too. There is a way that it can be done. It needs all of us to work together. First a question. Why didn't you seduce Keith so that he gave you his sperm? Why did you unbirth him?"

"I knew he'd noticed that I was pregnant. You three girls were kicking me hard enough. I thought that he might not like making love to a pregnant woman."

Amy's hand gripped my mouth tightly. I stroked her arm to show that I'd understood the need for my silence. Cheryl hugged tighter to me.

"Apart from my irrational fear of being penetrated by a man, I was thinking of you three, Deb."

"You were thinking of us? What about us?"

"I thought that if I flooded my womb with Keith's ..." she stopped obviously choosing her word carefully " ... output then although my immediate need would be met, you might pay the cost. I might have a belly full of pregnant ladies. I didn't know what that would do to you or to me."

Deborah suppressed a laugh.

"Theresa! We're not virgins. We were never in danger from Keith's 'output'. We are all protected from such things."

"I didn't know that. This morning gradually I came back to sanity. I was frantic about what I'd done to you three girls. I wanted to reverse the process but then I'd die. I wasn't sure I'd have enough strength to do it anyway. But you are my friends. Keith wasn't. I thought that if I unbirthed Keith then I could restore you three girls and keep him. You'd be OK and I'd still be alive. But now I'm not so sure. I liked Keith too. I didn't want to restore you with his output and then find all of you pregnant and it was my fault. When I took Keith into the bedroom I still wasn't sure what to do. When he started kissing my feet I liked it so much I wanted him to carry on upwards. I stopped him and offered him my breasts. If he'd chosen them - but he didn't. Once he was under my night-dress again the need to unbirth overwhelmed me. Once his lips were on my thighs I couldn't stop myself. I wanted all of him. It was different with you girls. I needed you to save my life. I didn't want you inside me. I wanted to engulf Keith even if I was to let him out later. Perhaps, since you are not virgins, you understand what I mean better than I do."

"I think we might, Theresa. I've often wanted to take all of a man inside me. The difference is that you can. We can't."

"Thank you, Deb. So how do you think we can get out - sorry how can I get you out, save my life, and avoid the consequences of my actions? That's more important now than telling a virgin about sex with a man."

"OK. This is my idea. You rebirth Keith. When he's out you two make love. That gives you your weekly fix of his 'output'. We three aren't in any risk of getting pregnant. You should then be free of the 'curse' and able to rebirth Amy, Cheryl and me. If that takes a lot out of you, Keith should be able to make love to you again later today. If you rebirth Keith soon, he should be around to have lunch with Gabrielle - therefore no need for any awkward explanation about his absence. He can come back later today just in case you need him. Then all five of us can sort out how your needs can be met until you meet someone that you like enough to make love to frequently. How does that sound?"

While Deb was speaking Amy's hand was gagging me hard. Cheryl was stroking my back. When Deb stopped Cheryl pulled my head away from Deb and cradled it between her breasts.

"That sounds possible. But I've only heard you, Deb. Will Keith agree? What do Amy and Cheryl think? Will you all keep my secret?"

Deb signalled for Amy to "talk". Deb pressed her head against mine, away from the womb wall.

"Theresa, this is Amy. I agree with Deb. I'll go along with what she has suggested."

Meanwhile Deb was "talking" quickly to me.

"Keith! Will you do it? Our lives depend on you."

"Yes Deb. I'll do it. Even without her 'curse' and her need, I find Theresa attractive. Given time I think I could even get to love her. And I'd like another chance at her breasts."

"Tell her. Now!"

Meanwhile Cheryl had "spoken" to Theresa, agreeing with Deb.

Deb pushed my head against the side of the womb.

"Theresa. This is Keith. I'll do it. If it will help you I'll do whatever I can."

There was a long silence from Theresa. We all waited anxiously with our heads pressed together.

"OK. It seems that it is the only way to save all of us. I'm scared stiff but it's worth trying."

Theresa paused.

"I have to have a water supply so I'll have to use the shower room. Wait while I go there."

We sloshed around as she went and reoriented ourselves as she leant back on the shower seat.

"I think I'm as ready as I'll ever be. I hope this works."

So did we.

"Keith! Can you move towards my hips and put your feet down as close to the entrance as possible?"

"Yes, Theresa."

"I'll extend my pseudopod - I think that is what it is called - to cover your head so you can breathe while I regenerate you. Can you girls make sure it fits on the right head, please?"

"Yes." they chorused.

I swam and was pushed down into the girdle of her hips. The pseudopod waved towards me. Deb positioned it over my mouth and nose. It sucked at me and slowly slid over my whole head. As before I could breathe freely. Once it was attached the umbilical cord pulled out of my navel. By that time I could feel my legs entering Theresa's birth canal. I sank slowly in to a warm firm hold. The three girls released me as my chest and shoulders entered the canal.

This time I was conscious the whole time. I was massaged by rhythmic pulsations as I was pushed down and through. I felt my tiny legs emerge. Then all of me followed in a rush. I was lying between her legs, inside her night-dress, with my head still hooded by her pseudopod.

Theresa hauled the night-dress up. I heard her adjusting the shower head until the water was the right temperature. Then I felt the hard end of the hose as she pushed it alongside my head into an opening of the pseudopod. The flow of water deafened me.

I began to grow larger and larger. It was weird. My legs extended further and further until my feet reached beyond the hers to the floor. My body and head were swelling.

Theresa adjusted her position. Her hands pushed down on my shoulders so that I slid down between her legs. I was still gagged, deafened and blindfolded inside her pulsing tentacle.

At last I seemed to be back to normal size. The water stopped flowing as Theresa turned the shower off. She leant back and the night-dress tiers slid down my body as it fell from her hands. I was lying between her legs, my hooded head between her knees. The hood gradually retracted from around my head. Finally it uncovered my mouth and nose. I gasped for breath but her damp night-dress billowed into my mouth. I fought the silk away and could breathe again.

I slid out from under her frills, down and landed painfully on my tool belt. From my legs entering her birth canal to that painful impact had taken at least twenty minutes.

I struggled to my knees, kicked my sodden jeans and belt out of the way and turned to face Theresa. She was lying back against the cubicle wall. Her face showed the strain she'd just gone through. To me she seemed the most desirable woman in the world. I quickly moved to squat beside her and flung my arms around her. I kissed her gently on her sweat-streaked cheek. She leant her head against mine.

"I must look revolting." she said.

"You look wonderful for a new mother." I said. "And what about me? I'm plastered in your juices from head to foot."

Theresa looked carefully at me.

"So you are. At least you are not bloody."

I wasn't. There was a streak of blood from my navel but the liquid coating me was clear. I might have been an oiled wrestler.

"I don't think I'm ready yet for love-making." she said with reluctance.

"I think it might be better if we had a shower first. Like this I'm far too slippery."

"A shower would be nice. But am I strong enough yet?" she asked.

"I'll help you. Come on."

I pulled her back to a sitting position and then stood her up. She swayed before leaning against me. I tested the shower's temperature. I put her hand in the stream.

"That OK?" I asked.

"Yes. I need to strip. Can you help me?"

I took her night-dress off over her head but an arm caught in one of the ankle straps.

"Why do you have ankle straps on your night-dress?" I asked. It was an idle question. We were both embarrassed by our dependence on each other. However she answered clearly.

"You know about my 'pseudopod'. Now my flatmates do as well. When I get sexually excited it tends to protrude from me, not very far, but enough to show. The ankle straps keep my night-dress hem down even if I wriggle in bed. That way my difference is hidden even when I'm asleep. I don't suppose I'll need ankle straps any longer."