When she started to come around, she reached up and felt the back of her head. "Oww," she mumbled, "I hit my head, mawmaw." I laughed, that was so cute. She laughed, automatically responding to my giggles, and that's when her eyes opened up huge. Her laughing pulled on the cut muscles of her chest and abdomen, and she felt everything all at once. I was ready, so when she opened her mouth to scream, I crammed a wad of leopard spotted scarf into it. "It's alright baby," I repeated, until the initial shock was over and she stopped thrashing around in the slippery tub.

I pulled the scarf out of her mouth, bloody from where she had bitten her cheek. Her breaths were coming hard and fast, as I asked, "What did you dream about, sweetie? Did you dream about my knife? Did you dream about your baby?"

Between breaths, she tried to answer. "I - I - Ella - yes - Ella, Mommy loves you…" I saw her eyes clear as she strugged to regain conciousness. Then, her eyes widened. "I saw her! I saw Ella, where is she? Is she here?"

I gently grabbed the girl's arm, and put her hand on the top of her belly, right where I had stopped cutting. She instinctively grasped her navel, then gasped as she felt her skin opening up below her palm. For the first time, she looked down at her body with clear eyes and saw the damage I had done. She lifted her hand, but I pressed it back into her belly, and guided it into the gaping wound. Her struggles had pulled the sides of the cut apart, so her pinkish grey uterus was pushing out into the air, arteries pulsing with her life. As I pushed her hand into the secret place, we both felt her baby kick, twice, then push hard against us.

"Ella," she whispered. "That's my Ella."

While she felt her baby move with her right hand, I picked up the new mom's left hand and brought it to her breast. As we squeezed together, she breathed in sharply and looked down at the bloody gash in her chest. Without any prompting from me, she moved her right hand to her right breast, and squeezed both tits hard. Her mouth opened like she was screaming, but nothing came out. She just watched as she pulled the skin apart, exposing the thin muscle covering her sternum. With a moan, she squeezed her titties so hard, drops of clear colostrum appeared and rolled down from her nipples.

I sat back as she watched herself holding her breasts, seeing skin pulling away from muscle, and wishing I could know what she was thinking. Probably nothing, I realized. She was beyond thinking at that point. I figured I'd better give her what she came for, before she did start thinking!

As blood and early milk oozed around the sweet mommy's fingers, I went back to her belly. She sucked in a breath when I touched her uterus, and pushed my fingers back into the space between her womb and her muscles and skin. I pulled the knife easily through her skin, curving around the tough tissue of her navel, as she moaned softly. When I reached her pelvis, I continued the cut through her thin pubic hair to just before her slit, and thought about playing with her pussy. Maybe later, I thought, but right now she's depending on me to do my job. So I gently pulled her right hand off of her tit, and moved it down to her cunt. She gasped again as she touched the new gash above her old gash, and then she took the initiative again. Her fingers slid down her bloody mound to her clit, and up inside her vagina, as she moved left hand across to her right breast. "That's right, honey!" I said. "You take that body where it wants to go!"

With my sweetie's hands busy, I could really do whatever I wanted. So I didn't open up her uterus just yet. Instead, I took my left hand and followed the curve of her uterus down towards her pelvis. As it narrowed and dipped inside her pelvic girdle, I could feel the sloshy, muscular bag of her bladder. I was glad to feel how full it was, because a pregnant girl needs to stay hydrated! I brought the knife in my right hand to the top of the bladder, and quickly pushed it in. As hot piss exploded onto my hand and into her abdomen, my sweetie mom cried out. I knew she wouldn't be expecting that pain! I scooted back up to her sweet head, and told her, "It's ok, sweetie, it's ok, don't worry," until she was able to focus her eyes again.

"Sweetie, it's time to say goodbye to Ella. Did you talk to her?"

The girl nodded her head. I saw the skin around her throat pull apart, but she barely winced.

"Does Ella want to die?"

She shook her head, no.

"Do you want Ella to die?"

She said it out loud, but I could barely hear her. "Yes. Yes."

I leaned in close to her, and whispered, "Do you want to kill your baby?"

She tried to take a deep breath, but couldn't. "Yes," she said with all the effort she could.

"Don't worry, sweetie. I'm going to help you kill your baby now."

I guided her hands to her uterus, first the left and then the right, pushing the skin of her belly out of the way. "Play with her," I whispered, and she pushed on her baby girl's home. The familiar touch, closer than ever, woke up the little girl, and I watched my sweetie's eyes brighten as they played together. I watched the bumps appear and fade as Ella rolled around happily.

With my knife at the top of her uterus, I sliced down half the length of the organ. It was just a surface cut, barely enough to ooze bright red blood. Mommy watched, her mouth open, feeling another unexpected invasion of her body. I cut again, in the same place, a little bit deeper, exposing the pink muscle. She moaned, and it sounded so funny that I laughed. I saw the question in her eyes, so I told her. "That was the sound I made when I got pregnant with this one!" She made a sound kinda like laughing, but with her body violated in so many places, it came out as a squeak and all of her exposed organs jiggled. That made me laugh again, and I could see baby Ella rolling around enjoying her mommy's mood. "Ella really loves you, sweetie," I said. "Let's meet her!"

This time, I didn't mess around. I stabbed the top of the cut, piercing her bag of waters, and straw-colored fluid gushed out over my sweetie's hands and into her exposed guts. I put my fingers into the small cut, and carefully slid my knife in like before, blade up. I opened her womb from top to bottom. Inside, in a puddle of fluid, little Ella wiggled and kicked, without any walls to hold her back. She was still curled up, about the size of a head of cabbage. She was laying head up, far from ready to be born. "Pick her up, hon! She ain't going nowhere by herself!"