The Epic Medkink (Gen) NC-17 - 2/infinity
Title: The Epic Medkink (in which Frodo's Legs are Spread Way too Far Apart) Part 2/infinity
Author: Moit
Fandom: Lord of the Rings
Summary: Aragorn demands Frodo visit him in the Houses of Healing for pre-natal care.
Pairing: Gen, (implied Frodo/Eomer)
Rating: NC-17
Genre: H/C
Warnings: implied Yaoi/Slash, mpreg, extremely graphic medical situations, explicit detail of medical procedures, bodily functions
Author's Note: This is for lilybaggins whose name is inscribed on my hand-tooled leather collar beneath the words "If Found Please Return to".
Aragorn pulled from his pocket of length of cloth with markings along its length. “This is my measuring cloth,” he said, by way of explanation. “Each of these marks represents one centimetre. When a woman is pregnant, the number of centimetres of her fundal height should be equal to the number of weeks she’s been pregnant. After speaking with Elrond and Gandalf, I’ve determined that a halfling lass’s measurement should be cut in half. For example, if she is twenty weeks pregnant, her fundal height should be ten centimetres. Since your child is half-Man, half-Hobbit, I’ve determined that your fundal height should be 3/4 of a centimetre to the number of weeks you’ve been pregnant. Are you still with me?”
Frodo nodded slowly. “I think so.”
“For this, I do need to have you lie down.”
Frodo slowly eased himself back, trying his hardest to lay back gently, while still keeping the sheet over his breasts. He managed to situate himself, still tugging uncomfortably at the sheet.
“I’ll need to raise this so I can get the measurement,” Aragorn said, gesticulating at the sheet without touching it.
Frodo inched the sheet up slowly, eyes locked on Aragorn’s face. He was careful to keep the sheet from accidentally uncovering his bare breasts. Aragorn stopped him when the majority of his swollen belly was exposed. Frodo shivered under the man’s intense gaze. Aragorn’s eyes were on Frodo’s belly, but Frodo’s eyes were on Aragorn.
Frodo had already decided, despite his faith and trust in Aragorn, that he would jump off the table and run if he felt the need.
“Are you still with me, Frodo?” Aragorn asked of the faraway look in the Hobbit’s eyes.
“Yes,” Frodo said, his attention snapping sharply back to the moment.
“I’m going to touch your belly, now, so I can get the measurement of your fundal height.”
Frodo nodded, his eyes now locked on Aragorn’s hands. He watched silently and raptly as Aragorn laid the length of cloth against his bare belly. The Man seated one end against the waistband of Frodo’s underpants. Then he pulled away, frowning.
“I’ll need you to pull your underpants down a bit. My measurement needs to start right at your pubic bone.”
Frodo exhaled loudly through his nostrils, but still, he said nothing.
Aragorn gave him an apologetic look as Frodo eased his underpants further down his hips, shifting to accomplish the difficult (in this state) task.
When Frodo relaxed back against the table, Aragorn placed his measuring cloth at the ridge fo Frodo’s pubic bone and laid it over his belly, feeling with his fingertips for the appropriate stopping point.
“Thirteen and a half centimetres,” Aragorn announced, scribbling in his notes.
“That's good, right?” Frodo asked as Aragorn rolled his measuring cloth back up.
The Man nodded. “If you were a woman, I'd expect you to be around sixteen. Since your babe is half-Hobbit, I'd wager you're right on target.
“That's good news,” Frodo said, inching the sheet back over his belly.
“You can keep pulling that sheet down; I need to perform your breast exam next.”
Frodo did not find Aragorn's amusement at his surreptitious movement funny in the slightest. His cheeks burned at the thought of being an active participant in what he considered the most embarrassing moment of his life. Nevertheless, Frodo pulled the sheet down far enough to uncover his small, but fully-formed breasts. He kept his eyes on the ceiling, silently counting the cracks as he waited for Aragorn's next command.
“Put your right hand beneath your head. We'll start with your right breast.”
Frodo obeyed, his eyes never straying from the ceiling despite losing his count.
“I'm going to palpitate each of your breasts in turn to ensure there are no signs of lumps or other irregularities.”
Frodo struggled to swallow the lump in his throat.
Aragorn didn't wait for a reply before he placed his large hands on Frodo's right breast. Thankfully, his hands were warm, but Frodo felt his nipples harden almost immediately. He sternly told himself that it was from nerves and nothing else. Aragorn's hands felt like they were big enough to cover his entire body and then squeeze the life out of it. Frodo shut his eyes against that train of thought.
Aragorn moved his fingertips in small motions, working in gentle circles from the centre of Frodo's nipple to the outside edges of his breast. He repeated the action on the Hobbit's left breast, after asking him to switch hands beneath his head. To examine Frodo's left breast, Aragorn had to lean over the Hobbit's body, which blocked the candlelight in the room, making him appear larger and more sinister to Frodo. He squeezed his eyes shut as he concentrated on the feeling of Aragorn's fingertips. He reminded himself that it was only Aragorn, his friend, a Man who would die to protect him.
It wasn't until Aragorn said his name softly that Frodo realised the Man's hands were no longer on him.
“Have you the need to relieve yourself?” he asked, picking up his notes once more.
“What?” Frodo squawked. First he had to endure a breast exam, then Aragorn asked him this? Oh, what he wouldn't have given for the gods to just strike him dead.
“You'll need an empty bladder for the pelvic portion of this examination.”
At that moment, Frodo became painfully aware of how badly he needed to relieve himself. “I do need to relieve myself,” he said softly.
Aragorn helped him off the table, but it was nearly impossible to keep the sheet over his breasts and still keep his balance. Incidentally, the sheet fell to the floor and Frodo struggled to bend over to retrieve it. Seeing Frodo's trouble, Aragorn reached down and retrieved the sheet. Frodo took it without meeting Aragorn's eyes, clutching it to his chest to hide his breasts from view.
“Where is the privvy?” he asked, starting for the door.
Aragorn grabbed his shoulder. “It would take far too much time.” He pointed to a chamber pot in the corner of the room Frodo only now noticed. “There. I shall turn my back to give you some privacy.”
Aragorn turned around and Frodo wanted to refuse, bargain, anything except use the chamber pot with his friend standing just metres away. Tears of frustration and embarrassment prickled in his eyes, but he did not cry. He turned his back to Aragorn and pulled his underpants off. He lowered himself over the chamber pot, squatting the best he could in his condition. Despite the burning pain in his legs, Frodo was not immediately able to release himself. He had to concentrate on relaxing and forget Aragorn's presence. Just when he felt like his legs would collapse beneath him, he heard his stream hit the bottom of the pot and sighed in relief. After he finished, he used the napkins placed thoughtfully next to the chamber pot and levered himself back to his feet. He pulled his underpants on and covered himself the best he could with the sheet.
“I'm finished.”
Aragorn turned around and helped Frodo back onto the table.
“Has there been any change in your vaginal discharge as of late?” Aragorn asked, returning to his notes.
Frodo should have been ready for the question, but it still managed to catch him off guard. He coughed to cover his surprise and answered “no” softly.
“Is your discharge thick?”
Frodo felt his breathing speed up as his heart beat faster. He most certainly did not want to answer these questions. However, he also knew he had no choice.
“It's... copious. Not terribly thick, but it's not as though I've relieved myself, either.” He blushed as he said the words, fixing his eyes on the middle of Aragorn's chest to keep from looking at the Man's face.
Aragorn nodded. “Good. Due to the pregnancy, you will have a more excessive discharge. The discharge is called leukorrhea, which is the natural discharge of the vagina. The reason you are noticing an increase in the amount of discharge now is due to the increased levels of estrogen in your body. The blood flow to your vagina has increased as well, which also leads to a more noticeable discharge. The discharge itself comes from the cervix as well as the walls of your vagina, and it is nothing to worry about. As you approach labour, you will notice yet a further increase in your vaginal discharge, which begins to form the mucus plug. We can discuss that at a later date, once you get closer to giving birth.”
Frodo nodded, not sure he completely understood everything Aragorn just said.
“Do you have any questions before I proceed with the examination?”
“Is there anything I can do about the discharge?” Frodo asked softly. His gaze stayed studiously upon Aragorn's broad chest.
“Unfortunately, no. However, you may put cotton sheaves in your underpants such as that which a lass would use during her menstrual cycle. You were spared that particular indecency. It is also imperative that you keep your vagina clean and remember to wash front to back.”
Frodo nodded again, almost sorry he'd asked.
“Any other questions?” Aragorn asked, setting his notes aside.
Frodo shook his had. There would be no avoiding it now.
Author: Moit
Fandom: Lord of the Rings
Summary: Aragorn demands Frodo visit him in the Houses of Healing for pre-natal care.
Pairing: Gen, (implied Frodo/Eomer)
Rating: NC-17
Genre: H/C
Warnings: implied Yaoi/Slash, mpreg, extremely graphic medical situations, explicit detail of medical procedures, bodily functions
Author's Note: This is for lilybaggins whose name is inscribed on my hand-tooled leather collar beneath the words "If Found Please Return to".
Aragorn pulled from his pocket of length of cloth with markings along its length. “This is my measuring cloth,” he said, by way of explanation. “Each of these marks represents one centimetre. When a woman is pregnant, the number of centimetres of her fundal height should be equal to the number of weeks she’s been pregnant. After speaking with Elrond and Gandalf, I’ve determined that a halfling lass’s measurement should be cut in half. For example, if she is twenty weeks pregnant, her fundal height should be ten centimetres. Since your child is half-Man, half-Hobbit, I’ve determined that your fundal height should be 3/4 of a centimetre to the number of weeks you’ve been pregnant. Are you still with me?”
Frodo nodded slowly. “I think so.”
“For this, I do need to have you lie down.”
Frodo slowly eased himself back, trying his hardest to lay back gently, while still keeping the sheet over his breasts. He managed to situate himself, still tugging uncomfortably at the sheet.
“I’ll need to raise this so I can get the measurement,” Aragorn said, gesticulating at the sheet without touching it.
Frodo inched the sheet up slowly, eyes locked on Aragorn’s face. He was careful to keep the sheet from accidentally uncovering his bare breasts. Aragorn stopped him when the majority of his swollen belly was exposed. Frodo shivered under the man’s intense gaze. Aragorn’s eyes were on Frodo’s belly, but Frodo’s eyes were on Aragorn.
Frodo had already decided, despite his faith and trust in Aragorn, that he would jump off the table and run if he felt the need.
“Are you still with me, Frodo?” Aragorn asked of the faraway look in the Hobbit’s eyes.
“Yes,” Frodo said, his attention snapping sharply back to the moment.
“I’m going to touch your belly, now, so I can get the measurement of your fundal height.”
Frodo nodded, his eyes now locked on Aragorn’s hands. He watched silently and raptly as Aragorn laid the length of cloth against his bare belly. The Man seated one end against the waistband of Frodo’s underpants. Then he pulled away, frowning.
“I’ll need you to pull your underpants down a bit. My measurement needs to start right at your pubic bone.”
Frodo exhaled loudly through his nostrils, but still, he said nothing.
Aragorn gave him an apologetic look as Frodo eased his underpants further down his hips, shifting to accomplish the difficult (in this state) task.
When Frodo relaxed back against the table, Aragorn placed his measuring cloth at the ridge fo Frodo’s pubic bone and laid it over his belly, feeling with his fingertips for the appropriate stopping point.
“Thirteen and a half centimetres,” Aragorn announced, scribbling in his notes.
“That's good, right?” Frodo asked as Aragorn rolled his measuring cloth back up.
The Man nodded. “If you were a woman, I'd expect you to be around sixteen. Since your babe is half-Hobbit, I'd wager you're right on target.
“That's good news,” Frodo said, inching the sheet back over his belly.
“You can keep pulling that sheet down; I need to perform your breast exam next.”
Frodo did not find Aragorn's amusement at his surreptitious movement funny in the slightest. His cheeks burned at the thought of being an active participant in what he considered the most embarrassing moment of his life. Nevertheless, Frodo pulled the sheet down far enough to uncover his small, but fully-formed breasts. He kept his eyes on the ceiling, silently counting the cracks as he waited for Aragorn's next command.
“Put your right hand beneath your head. We'll start with your right breast.”
Frodo obeyed, his eyes never straying from the ceiling despite losing his count.
“I'm going to palpitate each of your breasts in turn to ensure there are no signs of lumps or other irregularities.”
Frodo struggled to swallow the lump in his throat.
Aragorn didn't wait for a reply before he placed his large hands on Frodo's right breast. Thankfully, his hands were warm, but Frodo felt his nipples harden almost immediately. He sternly told himself that it was from nerves and nothing else. Aragorn's hands felt like they were big enough to cover his entire body and then squeeze the life out of it. Frodo shut his eyes against that train of thought.
Aragorn moved his fingertips in small motions, working in gentle circles from the centre of Frodo's nipple to the outside edges of his breast. He repeated the action on the Hobbit's left breast, after asking him to switch hands beneath his head. To examine Frodo's left breast, Aragorn had to lean over the Hobbit's body, which blocked the candlelight in the room, making him appear larger and more sinister to Frodo. He squeezed his eyes shut as he concentrated on the feeling of Aragorn's fingertips. He reminded himself that it was only Aragorn, his friend, a Man who would die to protect him.
It wasn't until Aragorn said his name softly that Frodo realised the Man's hands were no longer on him.
“Have you the need to relieve yourself?” he asked, picking up his notes once more.
“What?” Frodo squawked. First he had to endure a breast exam, then Aragorn asked him this? Oh, what he wouldn't have given for the gods to just strike him dead.
“You'll need an empty bladder for the pelvic portion of this examination.”
At that moment, Frodo became painfully aware of how badly he needed to relieve himself. “I do need to relieve myself,” he said softly.
Aragorn helped him off the table, but it was nearly impossible to keep the sheet over his breasts and still keep his balance. Incidentally, the sheet fell to the floor and Frodo struggled to bend over to retrieve it. Seeing Frodo's trouble, Aragorn reached down and retrieved the sheet. Frodo took it without meeting Aragorn's eyes, clutching it to his chest to hide his breasts from view.
“Where is the privvy?” he asked, starting for the door.
Aragorn grabbed his shoulder. “It would take far too much time.” He pointed to a chamber pot in the corner of the room Frodo only now noticed. “There. I shall turn my back to give you some privacy.”
Aragorn turned around and Frodo wanted to refuse, bargain, anything except use the chamber pot with his friend standing just metres away. Tears of frustration and embarrassment prickled in his eyes, but he did not cry. He turned his back to Aragorn and pulled his underpants off. He lowered himself over the chamber pot, squatting the best he could in his condition. Despite the burning pain in his legs, Frodo was not immediately able to release himself. He had to concentrate on relaxing and forget Aragorn's presence. Just when he felt like his legs would collapse beneath him, he heard his stream hit the bottom of the pot and sighed in relief. After he finished, he used the napkins placed thoughtfully next to the chamber pot and levered himself back to his feet. He pulled his underpants on and covered himself the best he could with the sheet.
“I'm finished.”
Aragorn turned around and helped Frodo back onto the table.
“Has there been any change in your vaginal discharge as of late?” Aragorn asked, returning to his notes.
Frodo should have been ready for the question, but it still managed to catch him off guard. He coughed to cover his surprise and answered “no” softly.
“Is your discharge thick?”
Frodo felt his breathing speed up as his heart beat faster. He most certainly did not want to answer these questions. However, he also knew he had no choice.
“It's... copious. Not terribly thick, but it's not as though I've relieved myself, either.” He blushed as he said the words, fixing his eyes on the middle of Aragorn's chest to keep from looking at the Man's face.
Aragorn nodded. “Good. Due to the pregnancy, you will have a more excessive discharge. The discharge is called leukorrhea, which is the natural discharge of the vagina. The reason you are noticing an increase in the amount of discharge now is due to the increased levels of estrogen in your body. The blood flow to your vagina has increased as well, which also leads to a more noticeable discharge. The discharge itself comes from the cervix as well as the walls of your vagina, and it is nothing to worry about. As you approach labour, you will notice yet a further increase in your vaginal discharge, which begins to form the mucus plug. We can discuss that at a later date, once you get closer to giving birth.”
Frodo nodded, not sure he completely understood everything Aragorn just said.
“Do you have any questions before I proceed with the examination?”
“Is there anything I can do about the discharge?” Frodo asked softly. His gaze stayed studiously upon Aragorn's broad chest.
“Unfortunately, no. However, you may put cotton sheaves in your underpants such as that which a lass would use during her menstrual cycle. You were spared that particular indecency. It is also imperative that you keep your vagina clean and remember to wash front to back.”
Frodo nodded again, almost sorry he'd asked.
“Any other questions?” Aragorn asked, setting his notes aside.
Frodo shook his had. There would be no avoiding it now.