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The Pageant
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NOTE: what follows is a story involving mature themes, centered on pregnancy and birth, with some strong scenes. Don't go forward if you are not comfortable with those, or if you are not older than 18 years old.

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Marissa was enjoying her time on the beach. The sun was shining, and it was hot: as such, the beach was full. She was laying down on her side, over a towel on the sand, her feet towards the water. She heard a whistle coming from behind her and turned her head: it was some big guy jogging on the sidewalk, unashamedly looking at her. He had seen her backsides and it seems that he had liked what he saw. As he kept running forward, the angle changed and he could see the front of Marissa, and then his face made an "O" of surprise, so much so that he stopped running briefly.

That was probably because he saw then Marissa's gravid abdomen, which was really large and round, clearly carrying one baby inside (if not more, some people thought). Marissa smiled at the guy, and he resumed his jogging.

She was very good looking. Long blonde hair, a permanent tan on her skin, blue eyes, quite tall and skinny, all that made a really nice package. Before her pregnancy, she could count on some nicely endowed breasts, too. Now, though, they had grown to pornographic proportions: they looked like something that belonged to a porn actress. In addition, according to her doctor she was expecting a really big baby, and her uterus got quite large with lots of amniotic fluid. That made for a colossal belly, that could not be mistaken by any means.

One fact that for many years she had to keep telling people was that she was happily married. She had been married with her husband since a little bit after high school, and they have been happy ever since. The pregnancy was unexpected, but still they were very pleased with the new addition to their family.

Even though that brought some concerns, mostly financial. The reason her husband wasn't with her was because he was at his construction job, finishing a big building project. It had been providing some much needed money, but it would be over in the next day or so, and then he would be out of a job. And the reason that she was on the beach was because she had lost her own job. She used to work as a hostess on a fancy restaurant. Things were going well, until her belly started growing. And it kept growing and growing and growing, until one day the manager came to her and said:

"Sorry, but I have to let you go."

"Why?"

"Well, nothing against a pregnant hostess, but the way you are now, people think that you're going to give birth right at the entrance of the restaurant. I'm sorry, but it is just the nature of the business."

They both knew that she wouldn't sue: she didn't have the money for a lawyer and a lawsuit. What made matters worse was that the economy was really in the tank, so she couldn't find another job. Nobody would say out loud, but she was sure that the fact that she was so pregnant wasn't helping either. In addition to that, the construction sector was doing particularly badly in this economy, and therefore her husband didn't have any job lined up after this one finishes.

She is trying not to think about this and just enjoy the beach, when she hears somebody calling her:

"Would you excuse me for a second?..." it is a guy in shorts and a T-shirt, with the name of some popular radio station on it.

Pretty soon in her life Marissa got used to man hitting on her. That made her develop the techniques to make the person go away when she wasn't interested, or, more often, when the person was just arrogant or clumsy. When she got pregnant, she thought that wouldn't be hit on as often, but to her surprise, guys kept doing it, maybe even more so.

"Would you mind if we talk for a second?"

"Sure, but my husband will be here any minute, and then I'll have to leave." She thinks that this will probably end the conversation.

"Even better. Look, have you heard of this radio station?" He points at the name on his T-shirt.

"Yeah, it's very popular."

"But you have never heard of our Pregnant Bikini Pageant, have you?"

"Actually, no. Is there such a thing?"

"Oh yeah! We've been making it for some years now. It's lots of fun! Everybody has a great time. And everybody likes pageants, right?"

The thought of a bunch of ladies with huge bellies trotting around in bikinis sounds very odd to Marissa, but she plays along.

"I suppose so. I imagine that next you're going to say that I would really love to participate, right?"

"Bingo! But, look, this year we are trying to make a really great experience for everybody. Naturally, some pregnant ladies don't feel like exposing themselves in bikinis at this moment in their lives. So, to make things really fantastic for them, this year the winner and the runner-ups will get a big money prize."

Then he tells the amount of money for the winner. Instantaneously Marissa switches from being mildly annoyed to be really interested. That amount of money could make a difference for her, her husband and the baby.

"OK, you got me interested."

"I thought so. As I said, you have nothing to lose. You're going to meet some really nice people, have a hell of a good time, and on top of that you may go back home with quite a big chunk of cash. What's not to like? So, if you want to join the competition, just give a call to this number."

He gives her a business card, that she stores in her bag.

"There will be a pre-screening in three days, and then the pageant will be in a week. Do you think you will still be pregnant by then? No offense, but you look like you have been carrying some three or four kids for fourteen months now."

"None taken" she lies. And then she lies some more: "I'm still three weeks away from my due date."

In fact, today is precisely her due date.

"Well, I'll see you in three days, then. Good luck!"

"Thanks!"

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Later that day, she tells her husband about that conversation.

"Sweetie, it's quite some money, and you know we need the money for the baby."

"I know, I know... but today is your due date! Even if you are still pregnant one week from now, what happens if you go into labor during the pageant?"

"Oh sweetie... man really don't know anything, don't they? You think it's like in the movies? Birth takes a long time. So, if I started feeling something during the pageant, I just excuse myself and we leave right to the maternity, where we will probably stay for two days before the baby is born."

"OK, OK... but the pageant is going to be in that island, right? Have you seen how the traffic on the bridges is at that time? Cars get stuck there for hours! Even emergency vehicles avoid that area during that time."

"Haven't you heard what I said? When we go to the maternity, we will stay there for a long, long time. I wish the birth was that quick! My poor mom labored for four days before squeezing me out."

"Well..." Her husband looks her with resignation, the face of somebody who knows that he has to deal with few options, and those remaining options are really not good. "OK. After all I have only two days left on my current job, and nothing else is showing up. But, if you feel anything, anything at all, you will tell me first thing, OK?"

"Of course." And this completes a day with quite some lying for Marissa.

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Three days later, she goes to the pre-screening. She is wearing her bikini underneath a really large T-shirt. She is also wearing yoga pants, pretty much the only thing that fits her now. After waiting quite a long time, she enters a small room on the radio station. There is a table on one side, and three people sitting behind it. One of them is the guy she met on the beach. She introduces her:

"And here is Marissa, ladies and gentleman. I told you guys she is a stunner!"

An older man on the right side of the table answers: "Yeah, and it seems that she is carrying twins or triplets!"

Marissa interrupts the man: "Actually, it's just one baby."

"Wow, that's impressive. I'll tell you, you're the last participant today, but for sure you have the biggest belly!"

The guys ask some questions from her:

"Single or married?"

"Happily married."

"Everything fine with the pregnancy, or have you had any problem?"

"No problem at all."

"Your due date is after the pageant?"

"Yes."

They ask some more questions, and everything seems OK. Then, they ask:

"Given that you're wearing a bikini underneath, would you mind taking off your T-shirt and pants?"

"Sure."

She removes the clothes and shows her belly and all its glory. They can also see her breasts barely being held by the bikini top.

"Good. Now, can you put on this T-shirt from the contest?"

They give her an oversized T-shirt with the logo of the pageant. Even though it's big, it doesn't cover her belly completely, and the underside of the belly is exposed. The promoter that originally met her talks:

"Fantastic! This is what we are looking for. Marissa, you are selected for the pageant. Show up at the scheduled date, and we will have a lot of fun!"

"I'm sure about it!" Marissa lies today too.

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The night before the pageant, Marissa goes to bed with her husband. She is feeling some cramps on her belly, as well as some backache, but just ignores it. After some time asleep, she starts dreaming.

In her dream, she is back at her old job as a hostess. However, she is wearing a bikini. Then, the radio promoter shows up:

"Marissa, you look super hot as always. However, we need to make these clothes look better on you!"

She doesn't try to resist when the promoter unties her bikini top, and then ties it around her belly, right by her belly button. Then, he tightens the bikini brutally over her belly.

"Oops, I think I went too far, I'm sorry!"

Before Marissa can say anything, a couple enters the restaurant. She grabs two menus, and takes them to their table. When she is back, the promoter goes behind her, and again savagely tightens the bikini top over her belly, which is painful this time. One more time, though, before she can protest, a group of people enters the restaurant, and she picks up menus and leads them to their table. And the whole thing repeats, over and over and over, until she gets tired of this whole ridiculous thing and screams:

"WOULD YOU STOP..."

"THIS?..." She says aloud as she wakes up. Only then she realizes that she was having a bad dream. A contraction comes along and she understands where the tightening on her belly was coming from. Fortunately, her husband sleeps like a rock, so he is just laying there in bed, snoring.

She goes to the kitchen and drinks some water, and tries relaxing in bed, to see if the contractions stop, but they keep going on and she can't sleep anymore.

After some more time, her husband wakes up. By then, Marissa has taken a decision. Her husband can't know that this is happening. The money of the pageant is really important now. And her mother labored for four days. Clearly the women in this family take their time to give birth. She just has to go through the morning, and in the afternoon they will go to the pageant. By the end of the afternoon everything will be over, and if she is still having contractions, they can go to the hospital. And, with some luck, carrying a bunch of money with them.

Her husband turns to her, both still in bed:

"Hi honey... how are you?"

"Great, and you?" Marissa figures that today she will have to do a whole lot of lying.

"Super. Hahn... any sign that the baby wants to come out?"

"Everything is more peaceful than ever." Precisely as she says that, a contraction comes. She focuses intensely and keeps her best face. She is surprised, and thankful, that she has this much self-control. She also thinks it is not a good idea to mention that yesterday when she went to pee before going to bed, her mucous plug came out in the toilet paper she used to wipe herself.

"Ok, so, let's get breakfast" says the husband.

They have breakfast together. Given that the big building he was working on has been finished, the husband is now out of a job. So, he is in no hurry. Marissa feels more contractions during the breakfast, but she thinks she can manage them, at least so far.

After breakfast is over, he goes to the living room, to check on the computer for more job listings, and to play games. Now that he is not working, he is doing that a lot. Whereas she goes back to the bedroom, and sits on the bed, trying to read a magazine. The contractions keep going on: they feel like her massively large womb is turning into a big rock, her back hurts badly, and she loses her breath. But, by concentrating and breathing carefully, she manages to not make a sound. It helps that her husband is not the most perceptive person ever.

The morning passes by, and they have lunch. Marissa doesn't eat much: she tells him that she is not very hungry, and jokes that the baby is taking all the space available inside her. He, as always, wolfs down his lunch. Now it is time to get ready.

She goes to the bathroom and takes off her clothes. Entering the shower gives a welcome feeling of relief. The contractions are not giving any sign of slowing, quite the opposite, she has the impression that they are getting closer. But, she will not dare time them. The warm water flowing down her breasts and over her belly makes the contractions feel more bearable. One when comes up, she looks down and she can clearly see her belly going more salient and almost as if it is going up. What grabs her attention, though, is her belly button. Her belly button is only partially out, with only the top half of it out. However, when a contraction comes, the belly button goes fully out, in something that is very noticeable. Well, she thinks, I will have to just trust my luck that people will think that's a normal thing.

Getting out of the shower brings a problem. After having the warm water take the worst off the contractions, they are feeling really uncomfortable now. Again, she concentrates deeply, clinches her teeth, and moves forward.

She gets out of the bathroom and puts on her bikini. On top of it, she puts on the T-shirt for the pageant. The fabric is really stretched against her unreasonably enlarged belly. She is concerned that one big contraction, that makes her belly more salient, may rip the T-shirt. Anyway, following that, she puts on her makeup. She does the best makeup job she has done in quite a long time. She has to be really careful that when a contraction peaks, to stop whatever she is doing, otherwise she may make a mess of the makeup she is putting on her face. Thankfully, there is no need to put pants on, so she doesn't need to struggle with finding something that fits.

With the makeup done, she looks herself in the mirror. Not bad, not bad at all, she thinks, I may have a good chance at winning this thing. As she feels her belly tightening again, compounded by that very annoying pain in her lower back, she embraces her belly with her arms. Because she knows it's there, she can notice her belly button going fully out underneath the fabric of the T-shirt. Marissa whispers to her baby:

"My beloved one... would you stay inside for your mom, just for a little bit more? Very soon you will be able to come out, and your parents will be super happy. Also, your mommy is going to be Miss Pregnant Bikini. Wouldn't you like that?"

The baby has been moving a lot today, and she is kicking and hitting her even more as she speaks. She thinks that she doesn't need more pressure inside beyond what she already has.

Leaving the bedroom, she tells her husband:

"I'm ready. Let's go."

"Before we go, though, let me just ask: are you totally OK? You haven't had any contraction, any pain, anything that indicates that our baby wants out?"

"Nope. Everything is calm. I'm actually getting concerned that I will have to be induced."

"OK, let's go then. And you know what? I think those judges will be some damn fools if they don't pick you as the prettiest girl ever in that pageant."

That's one of the reasons that Marissa married him. He is really good to her.

They get out of the house and into their car. It's a really old and battered SUV, but that's pretty much what they can afford now, and it also has more space for their soon to be expanded family.

Exactly at this moment, something crosses Marissa's mind. Call it female intuition, but it is a thought that very strongly she thinks she needs to act upon, even though she doesn't understand why. She tells the husband:

"Honey, can you put the back seat down?" In order to avoid explaining why to him, she creates a fake reason: "I think I may want to get some vases with a friend later, and it will be nice to have that already set up in the car when we get there."

The husband doesn't make any questions about this. He enters the car and puts the back seat down. Now, behind the front seats of the SUV, there is a flat floor, all the way to the back hatch. There is a bunch of pillows in there, because they've been thinking about taking them to his mom for the longest time, given that she really liked them, but they never got to do it.

They climb into the car, and he drives to the island where the pageant is going to happen. The island is right on a crossing of some major bridges, and on their way they notice that the traffic is already getting somewhat slow, but it is not too bad. During the drive, Marissa puts her hands together over her right leg. Whenever a contraction comes, her right hand grips her left hand tightly, and she concentrates her willpower into breathing normally.

The husband finds the entrance to the park where the pageant will be. The radio station erected a big circus like tent in the middle of the park, which they can see as he parks the car. They get out of the car and walk, thankfully at not a very hurried pace, to some tables next to the tent which are under a sign saying "Competitor Registration". There are some women sitting behind the tables. Her husband goes to one of them and says:

"I brought my wife to the pageant; she is one of the competitors."

The woman in question seems to be bored with having to do this bureaucratic part of the pageant. She replies:

"OK, dude, we had a number of husbands here, but from this point on it's just the girls." She gives him a credential. "This will allow you to enter the tent. There are beers and chicken wings there. Go there and have fun!"

"Ok!" Turning to Marissa, he says: "Honey, if you feel anything... anything at all... just let me know and your old hubby will take care of you. I'll have you in the maternity in no time, no matter what."

She feels almost like crying... this man is too good to me. She answers:

"If I'll feel something, it will be the feeling of being a winner. You will see."

"I have no doubt that you will this thing."

They kiss and he leaves. The woman behind the table looks like she already saw this today too many times. She speaks to Marissa:

"OK, first things first. You need to sign some papers."

She gives her some documents. They are waivers, use of image, etc. Marissa now has to use all her focus in not giving external signs of the contractions, which are getting significantly more intense. This is consuming pretty much all of her concentration. She doesn't read much of the documents, she only looks for where to sign and signs it. She is relieved that this is the last thing that will require a steady hand.

"Good, good" says the woman. "Now, we gotta give you a number. Given that you are wearing a bikini, and that you have quite a big surface to write on, I'll write the number with this special pen in your belly. Would you please raise your T-shirt?"

Marissa dutifully does so. The woman stands up, walks around the table and writes "36" on the right side of her belly.

"OK, you're good to go. Now, go ahead and go to that opening on the tent right next to that big tree. That's the backstage, where you girls will be waiting. People there will tell you what to do. Good luck!"

"Thanks", and, after saying that, Marissa goes to that entrance, slowly.

As she enters the tent, she sees a number of pregnant ladies. They are all sitting in foldable chairs. Marissa picks one on the wall, opens it up and sits down. Again, she puts her hands on top of her right leg, and every time a contraction comes up, she grasps the hands very strongly.

The contractions are quite worse now. Her belly is turning into a very solid ball every time one comes up. The pain is spreading from her lower back, to the lower front of her belly, and to the top of her belly as well. Sometimes she may shake a bit, but that is all that she reveals about what is going on.

The competitors are talking a lot: it's quite loud. A lady with a not so big belly turns to her, trying to establish conversation:

"I thought that pregnant women with twins were not allowed?... Did they make an exception for you?"

"No, I'm expecting just one baby."

"Wow, it's a big one. I don't envy you having to push all this out..."

"I'll do what I have to do."

Marissa really doesn't want to talk, because this takes her focus away from hiding the labor pains. However, she notices that the other girls are measuring her up. Clearly, she has the biggest belly of them all, and they are thinking that she can be their most serious competitor. Everything gets quiet, though, when a guy with a clipboard comes from the stage and says:

"OK, we are about to start! I'll call your numbers one by one. When you hear your number, you're going to come into the stage. Two of our DJs are going to talk to you, and when they say so you're going to remove your T-shirt. Now, get ready!"

Soon after that, he turns to the backstage and says "ONE!". A lady with black hair, that looks super excited and (obviously) has an enlarged belly, stands up and walks into the stage. Some minutes after, she comes back, and the guy with the clipboard says "TWO!".

Things go like this, with Marissa waiting for her number. Waiting is not a good thing. Now, she holds her seat underneath her buttocks with both hands until her knuckles go white, and without anybody noticing, now and then she lets go a quiet sigh. Things are getting more serious now. One contraction makes her belly move forward so much that her much stretched T-shirt actually rips a little bit on the side. With each contraction, she can feel her baby being squeezed whole, going down. She feels now the baby's head, which seems to be as big as a large size melon, putting unbelievable pressure against her cervix. For a second, she thinks that she may not resist anymore, kneel down on the ground and just eject this baby out of her. But soon she recovers the concentration and goes on waiting.

After quite some time, the guy with the clipboard says "THIRTY FIVE!". She thinks, just one more, just some minutes more...

A blonde girl with what she doesn't think is that big of a belly returns from the stage, and mercifully she hears "THIRTY SIX!".

She rises, slowly, and goes toward the stage. The clipboard guy tells her: "Come on, we can't keep this people waiting." She climbs some steps and she is on stage. Two guys with a microphone, the DJs, look at her and she walks toward them.

"OK, here we have 36! 36, what is your name?"

"Marissa!"

"Marissa, that's a pretty name! Now, Marissa, you look like you're carrying some five kids in there! Is that possible?"

Despite the immense pressure that she now feels against her cervix, and the fear that her baby will just drop on the ground right on the stage, with all her willpower she manages to smile and answer:

"It's just one, but it's one big bundle of joy!"

Everybody laughs.

"OK, Marissa, now show us that big belly of yours!"

She removes her T-shirt, letting everybody see her full body, only covered by the small patches of fabric that constitute her bikini. She walks on a catwalk and back, even though walking is something that demands quite some concentration from her to make it look like normal. She holds her belly with both hands while doing so, because that brings a tiny measure of comfort to the powerful pressures she is having. She passes in front of a table, behind which the three people she saw at the pre-screening are sitting. They see her passing by and make notes. There are catcalls coming from the public: they seem to be really enjoying what they are seeing.

As she returns to the DJs, one of them asks another question:

"Marissa, you seem ready to pop at any second! Will we have to drive you to the maternity?" He jokes, not knowing how close to reality he actually is.

"In fact, I'm having a contraction right now!" Marissa jokes back, using all her willpower to smile. The crowd goes wild, thinking that she is just being funny, when in fact the contractions are like a band of steel in her womb, making it become even more salient and forward.

One of the DJs turns to her and says: "Ok, you can go back now." She walks to the backstage, while other girl enters.

In the backstage, she sits on the same foldable chair she was before. As she does that, she notices that there is a girl with curly red hair that is wincing. Other than Marissa's, she seems to have the biggest belly among the participants. She clearly looks uncomfortable. Then, Marissa hears a "pop!" For a second, she thinks that her own water broke, but then she hears the redheaded girl screaming:

"OH MY...! MY WATER BROKE! SOMEBODY HELP ME!..." She stands up, holding her belly with both hands. She is gushing fluid on her foldable chair. Two big guys, who seem to be security people, show out of nowhere and tell her:

"Ma'an, let us help you. Let us take you to your husband, and then call 911 to take care of you."

They both hold her, one on each side, and help her get out of the tent. Seeing that, Marissa fears that her water may break as well, and then she will have to leave. She can only hope that the bag of waters will hold on until this is all done.

More girls go on stage. Marissa just sits tight, her hands on the foldable chair, holding it so strongly that her knuckles are white. When a contraction peaks, she clinches her teeth, closes her eyes, and doesn't make a sound, only lets go a quiet sigh. All her focus is on staying quiet now. She doesn't know for how long she has been in labor, because now even her has to admit that this is the real deal. The baby inside her is being submitted to the immense forces of her huge uterus, his head working as a wrecking ball against her cervix.

She can notice that finally all girls have gone to the stage. The DJs are now calling random participants, which will take part in funny little games. One of the women has to "give birth" to one of the DJs, whereas another one is showing that she can still do handstands even in her advanced pregnant condition.

While that is going on, all of sudden Marissa feels something that makes her panic for a second. There is unmistakably something getting into the birth canal. The only thought that comes to her mind about what to do is to go to the bathroom. There is a row of portable potties on one side of the backstage, from which the participants keep getting in and out. She rises from the chair and goes to one of them, moving slowly (that's the only way she can move around).

After she enters and locks the door, she grabs two handles on the wall, and bends over. Marissa can barely keep control of the immense force being exerted by her belly. Knowing that nobody will know from which one of the portable potties a given sound will be coming from, she moans. That helps bear the pressure a little bit, as well as the pain irradiating throughout her whole abdomen and lower back. Then, she sits on potty, moves her bikini bottom to the side, and, after taking a breath, inserts two fingers into her vagina.

She doesn't need to go deep to find out that there is truly something in there. It is something spongy and soft, so she quickly figures it out: her bag of waters is being squeezed out of her cervix. It's a miracle that is hasn't broken yet.

Just as she removes her fingers and puts the bikini bottom back in place, an incredibly strong contraction hits her. She holds the handles, and moans a little more loudly than she would want. It is like her belly has become a solid knot of pure power, and she worries that so much power will crush all the bones in her pelvis. The pressure inside her is unbelievable. Exactly at this moment she hears a "pop", and a flood starts coming from behind her bikini bottom, drenching everything inside the confines of the portable potty. Her bag of waters couldn't take anymore and broke. It was sheer luck that it happened here.

Marissa hasn't gone this far to quit now. So, she gets lots of toilet paper, and tries to wipe herself the best she can. The portable potty is a mess, but with the girls coming and going from them, nobody will find out who caused that. She takes a deep breath, and leaves the portable potty, going back to her foldable chair, grabbing it with both hands again.

The contractions are washing over her, a tsunami of power barely being kept under control. Her body is covered in sweat, with some of it dripping from her belly button. Despite all her self control, her face is noticeably flushed. While her hands hold tightly to the seat just under her buttocks, her arms compress the sides of her belly, trying to bring some respite. There is a terrible urge in her body to do something that she is trying hard not to do, but she is afraid her body is doing anyway, which is to try hard to push this colossal baby down against her mind's will.

Mercifully, Marissa hears the DJs saying that they are going to announce the five finalists. All the participants stand up, in her case she does so with quite some difficulty.

"And the finalists are... 3, 17, 22, 36 and 40!"

The clipboard guy turns to the girls and says:

"Come on, the ones that heard you numbers, come on stage."

Some women look really disappointed. Marisa, though, is both happy and relieved: this hasn't been in vain. As one of the five finalists, she is already going to get some money. She waddles to the steps to the stage, and has to grab the handrail with force to be able to climb up.

The five girls get together on the center of the stage. They all have big bellies, and seem to be at the end of their pregnancies, but Marissa's clearly stands out. Her belly is like a not so small planet, round, salient and solid as a rock because of the contractions, with two moons contained by a small bikini top hanging over her very gravid abdomen. She holds it with both arms. Without noticing what she is doing, her arms somewhat try to pull the baby "up", and relieve the pressure exerted by what feels like a bowling ball slowly being pushed into the birth canal.

It is demanding every iota of willpower and self-control to stay here quietly. All her concentration is in stopping her from simply squatting down and drop this baby. It what seems to be an absolute glacial place, the two DJs start announcing the runner ups:

"Our fourth runner up is... number 22!"

The public claps and cheers. A producer gives a small sash and some flowers to the girl. The DJs continue the announcement:

"And our third runner up is... number 40!"

While number 40 receives her prize, Marissa manages to see her husband in the crowd. He looks at the same time proud and concerned. As an unbearable contraction surges over her, she can feel the entire body of her baby. She thinks, "I'm doing this for you, hubby, and you, my baby. This is for you. I will not fail, not now that I'm so close, even if my body is broken in half. This is because of my love for you two."

"And our second runner up is... number 3!"

More applause and cheering. Number 17 gets next to her. She is a brunette with, as you may expect, quite a large belly, but anybody can see that it is no competition to hers. She grabs Marissa's hands, and they get as close as their abdomens allow. They are in the typical pageant finalist position. The brunette tells her:

"I'm so excited!... And today is my due date, I may have this baby at any time!"

She notices, at that moment, that Marissa is grabbing her hand too strongly, almost hurting, and asks:

"Ahn... Are you OK? Are you sure everything is fine?..."

Marissa doesn't answer: she can't speak for fear of losing her focus, which she is keeping with all the might that she has and even some that she didn't know she has. Before number 17 asks again, the DJs announce:

"And... our runner up is... (long pause) NUMBER 17! And our big winner is NUMBER 36!!!"

The entire public starts clapping, yelling and cheering. Some guy screams: "You're a super hot and super pregnant girl, 36!"

A girl with a crown in her hair climbs on stage and takes the crown from her own head and puts on Marissa's. She also puts a sash, written "Miss Pregnant Bikini" on her. Because the sash is not big enough for her enlarged womb, it stays on top of it. A producer gives her a big bunch of flowers. The DJs continue:

"Congratulations, number 36, you are the hottest pregnant lady this year! This baby is going to have one foxy mom! I hope all of you here and everybody watching us on the web had as much of a great time as we had here. Our pregnant bikini queen will reign for this year, and next year we should find again who is the hottest future mom in a bikini in our city. Until then, make sure to tune in 100.1 every day, the coolest station in town!"

The runner-ups come to her and all hug and give her compliments:

"My congratulations! You must be super happy!"

"I imagine you're tired of carrying this super big belly, but it was for a good cause!"

"You look great, congratulations!"

Her husband is on the stage now. He hugs her:

"Congratulations, honey! I knew you were the prettiest, most attractive of all the girls here. I'm super proud of you! On top of that, this extra money will help us a lot. But, are you OK? Are you feeling anything wrong?"

Marissa is being torn from inside. She doesn't believe she managed to keep her control this long. In her mind, her baby is the size of a teenage boy, that her body, tired of being this much gravid, is trying by all means to put the baby out of her. The contractions are not giving any respite. She knows that a head the size of a melon is past her cervix and really down her birth canal, which is enlarged more than any human being could take it. She is keeping her legs closed, because in her feverish mind, if she opens her legs the baby will just drop down.

However, on a last super human effort, she gathers all her self control, and tells him the biggest lie so far:

"I'm fine. Let's go home."

Before that, though, there are things to be done. The runner-ups take pictures with her, as well as the DJs and the three judges. It doesn't seem that people mind that the pictures show them next to a woman with a gigantic pregnant belly, a face that is totally red now, eyes most of the time closed, teeth clinched together, and with sweat dripping from her. Marissa is really close to panic as this goes on, because she feels the maelstrom of intensity in her womb pushing the baby down, trying to break apart the gates of her vagina. She doesn't think anymore, she just let people take her around, focusing everything inwards.

Thankfully, the producers give the check to her husband. He thanks them a lot. The guy who met her at the beach says:

"When I saw her, I immediately knew she was the winner. You are a very lucky guy, dude! Anyways, I'll give you guys a call tomorrow: we want to set up an interview on the radio with you, Marissa."

The husband looks at her and answers:

"I'm lucky for many reasons about this girl. We can talk some more tomorrow, but I think that my lady here needs some rest. Thanks a lot for everything!"

"Sure thing! See you another day."

The husband and Marissa leave the tent, and the husband notices that they have to walk very very slowly. As they are getting close to the car, only at this point in the day he notices that something is not right. He asks her:

"Honey... are you sure you are all right?"

With that, at long last, she finally opens the dams of all her self control and lets go a primal, loud scream:

"AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!"

It is so loud that other people walking to the parking lot stop and look, scared about what produced such sound. It is dawning on her husband what is going on. But, to not leave any shred of doubt, she screams:

"I'M GIVING BIRTH RIGHT NOW!!!!!!"

Exactly at this moment, the couple makes a mistake. Another person may have concluded that the thing to do is to call 911, tell them that they are in the island, and that a helicopter will be needed to take her safely to a hospital. However, neither is thinking straight right now. The husband has a visceral reaction and takes Marissa into her arms, and carries her to the car. He opens the back hatch and puts her gently on the back side of the SUV, which is now just a flat surface all the way to the front seats. He puts some of the pillows that were supposed to go to his mom under Marissa. Her back is leaning against the side of the SUV, and he puts some pillows there too, after which he closes the hatch.

Marissa is only panting now, incapable of any other communication. She holds her gravid abdomen, feeling that the gates of her vagina are about to blown open by a soccer ball made of steel. At this time, she doesn't care anymore. The sole thing she wants is this baby out, no matter where that happens. Curiously, she is still wearing her crown and sash. Milk starts dripping from her bikini top: with all the force her body is making, her filled to the brim breasts had been leaking for some time, until her bikini top couldn't hold all the milk anymore.

The husband runs to the front of the car, gets in and starts the car. He speeds up to the ramp that gets into one the bridges. Things seem to be going OK so far, the cars are moving forward in a normal speed. As soon as he makes a curve, he gets into the bridge and...

...the traffic is fully stopped. To make matters worse, a bunch of cars (maybe leaving from the pageant too) get together behind him. Now they are fully stuck in the traffic of the rush hour. He starts honking, but the only result is that cars around them began honking too. Opening the window, the husband screams "my wife is giving birth!" and that is ignored by everybody.

The worst happens now. The husband starts to panic. He tells Marissa: "Don't you worry honey, we are going to get through this!" Despite saying that, the fact is that his brain is freezing. Thousands of thoughts come to his mind, but his mind is incapable of picking one and taking a decision. His wife's screams are not helping.

And she is truly screaming, now free from disguising what is happening. Marissa is having the worst contractions since labor began, at the same time that somebody seems to be using a flame thrower on her private parts. Without even thinking, she had grabbed her legs with her hands and pull them all the way back, at the same time that she dug her head into her chest. Her world is really small now: she sees her pornographic sized breasts kept together by her bikini top, and towering behind them, a gigantic gravid belly, with a sash on top saying "Miss Pregnant Bikini". The sash is absolutely disgusting with all the sweat and milk secreted by her, as is the bikini.

Regarding her bikini, even though her whole body is in a typhoon of extremely intense feelings, she can notice that something is pulling her bikini bottom down from her (really lower) waist. She takes her right hand between her legs, and feels a bulge right behind her bikini bottom. It's obvious what it is, so she removes the bikini bottom as fast as she can.

The baby's head is crowning fully. The vagina, after so much punishment, is letting go and making way (lots and lots of way) to let the huge baby's head get out. Marissa is screaming as if everything she had been holding up before had accumulated and it is being freed now all at once. Her bright red face is so sweaty that it accumulates sweat even in her eyelashes. Her belly button is fully out, given that the contractions are non-stop.

Little by little, the head moves out, expanding even more her vagina. It goes all the way to the point that there is a huge sphere half outside of her, Marissa's body shaking all over trying to get the rest of it out. With a fantastic push, all at once the entire head gets out. Marissa relaxes briefly, but then she remembers that the contractions have shown that there is a huge torso following that head. A wave of fear takes over her, when she thinks she may not be able to push those shoulders out.

But then, a super human contraction peaks. This is beyond anything she felt before, and she is grateful that this didn't happen at the pageant, because there would be no way to contain herself with this. Her limited field of view loses focus. Her abdomen becomes an immense sphere of titanium, shaking with intensity. Her hands dig so deep into her legs that little lines of blood show up where her fingernails touch the legs' skin. Her bikini top gets loose and her crown falls from her head. Her mind can have only one thought: either these shoulders are pushed out, or her entire body will be blown apart.

Thinks stay like this for what appears to be an infinite moment. Then, mercifully, thankfully, the head rotates and the shoulders make their slow way out of this impossibly opened vagina. Marissa believes that her body is just seconds away from dismantling spontaneously. But the push continues, and bit by bit the shoulders move out. By herself, in the back side of an old battered SUV, she is birthing a monster of a baby coming out of a record breaking pregnant womb.

At last, the contraction ends. With one hand, she can find out that the shoulders are fully out. The husband, trying to switch lanes while honking like crazy, only then looks back, and sees a massive head and shoulders getting out of his wife's vagina.

"HONEY! The baby is almost half out! But we are going to get help for you!"

Marissa doesn't even hear. Another contraction peaks, squeezing her battered uterus with full force again. The baby's body little by little comes out. She extends her arms between her legs, and holds the baby under his armpits, once the arms get free. It's almost done, almost done, she tells herself.

One final scream, compounded by a final massive push, and the baby comes out fully. A fountain of amniotic fluid comes out of her private parts, drenching the inside of the car. The husband sees water gushing out, and in panic asks:

"Marissa! What is happening?"

There is an enormous feeling of relief on Marissa, combined with a huge emptiness inside her. Her bikini top is fully loose, so she puts it to the side and brings her baby to her chest. He is crying hard, but once he gets close to the breast he latches and nurses with appetite. It looks like this whole process made him hungry. Her energy is very slowly returning, and she gathers enough of it to answer her husband:

"Yes... honey... everything is good now... no need to hurry anymore..."

She has tears in her eyes. Her husband too. The baby looks now very peaceful, as he is breast fed.

Eventually, using a scissor and some string from the first aid kit in the car, she cuts the cord and the placenta comes out. The car is disgusting beyond anything imaginable. After some time, traffic gets better, and they make to a hospital. The doctors will find out that, for such a traumatic birth, both mother and baby are in great shape.

----------------------------

"So, you are listening to the coolest radio station in town! If you don't remember me, I'm Marissa, last year's Pregnant Bikini Pageant winner. I'm still wearing my sash, and it feels much better now without a humongous belly, let me tell you that!"

"If you haven't heard before, yeah, I was in labor during the pageant and gave birth in my husband's SUV. Talk about pressure! In addition to that, I had to face a little bit about everything that can go wrong in this life, and managed to find my way around it all. So, I can help you with your problems!"

"For the next hour, give us a call, or send a mail or tweet, and I'll talk on the air about the current pickle you may be facing in your life. Remember, I was an unemployed broke girl giving birth on a traffic jam, so I can deal with about anything without panicking. And I can help you get over your panic! Now, let's listen to our first call."

A scarred voice screams on the phone:

"Marissa! I'm driving to the hospital, but my wife is giving birth on the back seat! Help me through this!"

Marissa smiles, remembering everything that happened last year. She is also amused, thinking how life can be ironic.

"Well, it seems that you called exactly the right person, my listener. Tell me more about what is happening and let me help you..."