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🍥 CONFESSIONS OF A PRETTY PUPPY GIRL ✩ caleb xia.

description ✩ it’s just caleb for gods’ sake, is what you tell yourself, he’s your boyfriend! he’s seen you naked before! it’s no big deal. so… what are you so afraid of? what’s so scary about asking him to call you puppy? 9.2K

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃 allergen advice ⋆ smut ⋆ eighteen plus only ⋆ semi canon verse, newly established relationship, exploring new kinks, implied sex marathon, puppy play, pet play, dry humping, clothed sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink, spitting in mouth, marking, squirting, cumplay, creampies to lovers lolll, soft dom caleb, shy female reader. ── © tteokdoroki ╱ 2025.

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃 store notes ⋆ not the first caleb fic ive written but the first i have posted and my first lads fic on dis blog !! this one really got away from me im scared lol. kinda selfship coded but i hope u like and stick around for more.

“caleb.”

the night is quiet, except for the gentle buzz of cicadas and rustling leaves outside of your open window — a cool breeze filtering through, welcomed into your home after the agonising heat of the day. you shiver, not because of the reprise of the cold, but because you’re nervous. you’ve been nervous, from the second you parted your lips and called for the colonel who lounges about in your bedroom, amongst your things, tucked between plushies and other collectibles as though he belongs right there with them.

and he does. caleb always belongs where you are. to you, to your heart.

logically, you know that. that there’s no reason for you to be afraid of the question dancing across the tip of your tongue — he would never judge you, not after everything you’ve been through together and apart.

“yeah, pips?”

so, why does your heart race? why is your pulse loud and erratic in your ears when he absentmindedly responds to you — voice gravelly and hoarse from all that you’ve gotten up to today. from not being used in the last half hour. the intimidating, cold and calculated leader of the Farspace Fleet, lies on his back between your legs, ruffled chocolatey hair soft against your clammy inner thigh, his breathing even and phone casually in hand. he looks so…cute and relaxed in comparison to how you feel as what if you ruin that with your question and the silly little thoughts running through your mind.

you shouldn’t feel this crazy or this nervous. not when you’re wearing one of his old zip up hoodies from college with the large DAA logo printed on the back that’s beginning to peel. underneath; your skin is bare, littered with love bites and bruises dotted across your body like a paint splatter on a canvas, and you’re sweaty perhaps because you’re only just calming down from your last round or maybe because you’re terrified. you shouldn’t feel terrified talking to caleb. not when he’s the one who’s done this to you. hours and hours of sex and making love to you and you still feel that nauseating sense of fear crawling through your ribcage like a stubborn weed desperately trying to reach the sun.

he’s yours. for crying out loud. he’s your boyfriend! he’s seen what lies beneath the surface, taken a peek beneath the folds of your flesh that protect the vital parts of you. caleb… he’s seen you in every shape and form, on dark sad days and brighter happy ones. there should be no shame in what you’re about to ask him, even if he says no to your request — caleb has been careful enough with your heart all this time, he knows how to let you down gently and easily.

secretly, you can only hope that he doesn’t have to.

a dry, cotton-like sensation invades your mouth and block the words on your mind — it’s just caleb, it’s always been just you and caleb. there’s no need to get so deathly anxious like this.

you hold a breath and swallow before you speak again.

“can we try something?”

“of course,” he responds almost instantly — cautious and caring. the colonel swipes away whatever app he’d been doomscrolling on, setting his amethyst ridden sights on you. with a gentle nod of his head; fluffy brown locks mussed and out of place, he rolls onto his tummy to look at you — caleb silently lets you know that you have all of his attention; that he’s ready to listen because it’s in his nature to spoil you. “what is it?” every fibre and strand of DNA that makes up caleb’s being is wired to meet your every demand and desire — there isn’t a thing he wouldn’t do for you, whether you’d asked him for it or not… because he knows you. he always has or he’s trained himself to pick up the new pieces of your soul he hasn’t had the chance to learn yet.

right off the bat, he doesn’t push you away or make you feel silly for hesitating — the better half of your brain knows he wouldn’t have done that. even still, you’ve got a lot of nerves to shake before you can fully confess to him.

words intertwined and twisted together like sturdy rope begin to catch in your throat, they coagulate and you choke on them and even though what you want to say is so oh-so-simple, you find yourself too flustered and panicked to speak. “i-if it’s okay, could you…u-um—?” frustration bubbles in your gut, why can’t you just say it, speak your mind with the man who loves you entirely too much for his own good.

sensing the spike in your anxiety, the one eighty from your previously relaxed and lovey-dovey state — caleb immediately moves to sit up, the depth of his perfect purple eyes increasing with concern.

“hey, hey, you’re okay,” he pushes himself over you, a large hand settling at the centre of your chest to guide its motions. “breathe slow for me, speak when you’re ready. i’m not goin’ anywhere, pipsqueak,” the colonel says with a charming smile, words sugar-coated and earnest. “promise.”

you do your best to follow caleb’s set of instructions — hyperaware of the push of his palm against your lungs as you breathe in and out for the man above you, caging you in against the sheets where evidence of your love lies. if he wanted to, he could carve out your chest, steal your organs, rip you apart like predator on prey… but he doesn’t. not quite ready to devour you, not until you’re the one who’s ready again. so instead, you choose to focus your attention on the puppy-like tilt of his head, the marks you’d left against the exposed parts of his tanned, manuka honey skin and most importantly — his smile. the one that shines and persists through the darkness of the night, despite all that he’s been through and all that he’s lost.

caleb shines brightest when he’s here. with you.

“i want you to call me something —” you say bravely, finally feeling calm enough. “— when we...” reaching up, you toy with the dexterous fingers slayed out against your chest — noting the way in which caleb’s thumb reassuringly strokes underneath the swell of your breast where it meets your ribcage ( from over your hoodie, of course). it distracts you momentarily, makes your breath hitch as you lose your train of thought to skilled and tender touches.

when we have sex.

you finish the sentence in your head.

it amuses him, the colonel, how you’re so shy and timid now. after you’ve been in this room for hours — going at it, screaming and moaning each other’s names until the roof threatens to come down. yet, caleb’s no longer in the mood for teasing, taunting or being ‘mean’ right now. any sinful, salacious nickname he had for you slips from his mind, though it’s not like you haven’t used degrading ones before when you’re both up and to being experimental. but he can tell, you’re feeling shy and nervous to ask, so it must be wanting to ask him for something different.

“wanna tell me what it is?” he prompts, dragging out the sound of the vowels dotted amongst his question.

you swallow thickly, a weak attempt to rid yourself of the haze you find yourself falling under. like caleb has cast a spell on you that gets you hot under the skin and needy for more than just his ghosting touch. the leader of the Farspace Fleet’s gaze drops from your softening eyes that simmer with something moreish and hesitant — like you’re afraid to be greedy before his stare becomes drawn to your exposed neck, the column of your throat as you gulp down your inhibitions. he tracks the movement, one that’s slow and torturous to the point where it strikes heat underneath his skin in a similar manner to that of a flint and stone — so this burning heat, mixed with the lightest hints of lust, swirls deep within the colonel’s gut.

caleb has always felt as though something belonged there, at the base of your pretty throat where your subtle adam’s apple bobs as you swallow gently. perhaps a pendant of his initials or something a little tighter that fits like his hand. he’s not sure, but you’ve previously enjoyed pressure there in your most intimate moments.

“can we uh…” blinking slowly, dizzied by your boyfriend’s lazy yet reassuring grin from up as he waits for you with an unbelievable amount of patience, you try again with your words. “can you try calling me ‘puppy’?”

silence follows, but it’s not uncomfortable nor is it humiliating.

instead, it crackles with something more. something hot and electric and excitingly familiar. anticipation and desire trickles into the atmosphere — pulling caleb into your orbit, your sweet voice as you ask, as you murmur the pet name and your perfect bambi eyes lulling him in like a gravitational force. he quirks a brow. “puppy, huh?” he repeats slowly, just to make sure. drawing out the syllables and noting how you squirm for later. “how come?”

he’s still hanging above you, he has been all this time — leaning his weight on strong, glistening forearms that flex as caleb shifts over your frame. not to mention the fact that he’s still shirtless, chest heaving with the weight of what could happen next. the colonel’s brown hair, shaggy and sticking up in all directions from your last round of sex, shields you from his berry shaded eyes as they darken and begin to pick you to pieces — as if you were a puzzle to be figured out, he’s still learning what you like, still learning your body even though he’s admired it… you for years. getting to know how your pretty little mind works, what makes it spin, what makes you tick.

there’s a lot of time he has to make up for, a lot of things he has yet to try with you.

“i’ve read about it, i like how it sounds … i think from you i’d...” you continue and fight the urge to curl in on yourself, choosing to loosely wrap your arms around caleb’s neck instead. his response is instinctual and practised — quick to pull you up by your forearms and straight into his lap, the sudden change in position catching you off guard. “i-i’d really like it if you called me that.” with the new proximity, you’re forced to let caleb see your neediness up close, the dilation of your pupils as you set your sights on the man you desire most along with the hunger that seeps from your pores.

he can almost smell the need for sex on you or perhaps it’s just the way you get so wet at the slightest hint of attention.

cocking his head to the side, the usually cool and callous colonel looks up at you — expression teasing, yet curious, with his tongue poking the soft inner epithelium of his cheek as he watches you squirm like an insect under a microscope. “you would like it if i called you my puppy?” he’s trying to capture you in his hypnotic gaze, and you’re falling for it miserably — shuddering in caleb’s lap as he shifts to manspread on the edge of your bed.

oh.

you bite your lip, its skin still sore from previous makeout sessions, because like this — you can feel it all. the sudden swell to caleb’s cock, concealed by grey sweatpants halfheartedly thrown on during the aftermath, and the way its length pulsates against your sex barely covered by a thin, barely-there pair of floral printed panties. “mhm…” is all you manage to respond with, your abused and used hole already clenching down on the press of his twitching girth against you.

a soft warning follows. “be a good girl, use your words.”

“yes.”

an elated grin breaks out on your boyfriend’s stupidly perfect face. “you’re so pretty, puppy,” it’s like he’s rewarding you for being brave, showering you with immediate and overbearingly candied praise that has you melting in his lap like hot sugar on the stove. caleb slowly starts to buck upwards, grinding, pushing his tip through your clothed pussy lips as it reddens with need. “i love you, puppy. want me to say it like that?”

you nod carefully, because if you give an inch caleb will take a mile. he’ll tease you relentlessly over your confession and to be honest, you’ll like it. “love you caleb,” comes your meek reply, rolling your hips in synchronicity with his own — your bodies dancing to a tune only the two of you know. “sensitive…” you gasp quietly when his bulbous, leaky cockhead catches on your clit, swollen and achy between your bare and bruised thighs.

“but it feels good, right?” the colonel drawls, his tone husky and low — its baritone notes scratching an itch in your brain you can’t reach on your own. large and veiny hands find themselves settling at the meat of your waist — placed there for comfort and subtle guidance whilst caleb slowly begins to pull you back and forth over his prominent erection. the movements are precise and purposeful, intending to pull you under the surface waters of lust and twist at the familiar knots beginning to form in your lower belly. he knows you, like one would know their morning routine or the backs of their hands. caleb has spent his entire life studying you — in this moment, he knows exactly what you need.

a push. permission.

to be told it’s okay, to take from him so selfishly. to indulge in him now that no one is watching or judging. to let yourself get lost in the ecstasy he provides…because that’s what he was made for — to please you, keep you happy and make you feel safe.

“so good.”

it’s true, you do feel so good. his erect cock makes a home tucked between your barely-clothed folds — your wetness seeping through his sweats, outlining his length as it catches on the hood of your clit. the fortress built around your mind falters and falls apart, just as you do between deft fingers that belong to your loyal and dedicated colonel. his grip shifts downwards, sinking into the supple flesh of your semi-exposed ass before pulling you down onto his prominent girth — keeping you there as you bucks up to test the waters and eases you beyond your sensitivity.

“that’s my girl. my good puppy,” caleb mumbles firmly under his breath letting you know that he adamantly means what he tells you, the dangerous lilt to his whispered words and his velvety voice thickening with ardour. you whimper and lean into the praise that wafts through the night air like an electric current crackling with unspoken, unleashed desire. “know just what you like, don’t i?” and god, yes he does. your body moves on instinct, hips swirling down to match the pace of his because he knows just what spots to hit. even if it hurts, even if your poor pussy is wet and raw from previous rounds — you can’t and won’t fight the craving to have caleb once again.

slick sounds layer underneath the echoes of shifting fabric. every single movement that causes them is feverish and hot, setting you on fire from the inside out, burning at your veins and causing blood to simmer underneath the surface or your skin — taking on the form of embarrassment and neediness. it rushes through your system, coagulated red blood cells fusing together to worsen the feeling. he’s too much yet not enough. even with the fact that the two of you belong like this, bodies fit together perfectly as though they’re the final pieces of your love story’s puzzle. caleb was always meant to be yours, always meant to walk by your side and come back down from his place in the skies to make you see stars.

“y-yes…” you stutter out weakly, as though all the air in your lungs has been swiped away — replaced by a burning, salaciously smokey flame. you’re lost in the smog, in the darkness that shrouds your brain making it easier for caleb to move and manipulate your body in a way that suits you both. he looks so smug, so proud seated underneath you while you rut and grind against his throbbing girth. if you had the strength to look, to fight your fluttering eyelids, you’d surely be able to note the darkening patch on the front of his sweats — not sure if it’s from your slippery pussy as she leaks through your panties or the precum that oozes from your boyfriend’s bright red tip.

the very notion has your vision swimming even if you can’t bring yourself to glance down; instead focusing on raking your fingers through his chocolatey locks to ground yourself and the way inky black swallows the natural purple glow to his eyes — showing you how far gone the colonel is, showing you that he’ll keep crossing this line with you over and over again. that no kink or pet name could ever deter him from wanting you as badly as he does.

caleb laughs breathily at the far-gone look in your eye, the way your lips part with those sweet little mewls — letting him get a good look at the drool and saliva pooling on your tongue. “look at you, puppy. barely there ‘n i haven’t even kissed you yet. so sweet and needy for it…yeah?” an inkling of cheer and amusement makes itself known in the intonation of his voice, the praise melting you from the inside out like dangerously hot sugar at its boiling point. so he’s mocking you, ever so slightly, condescendingly grinning up at you with rows of perfect white teeth and furrowed brows that occasionally twitch in pleasure.

but that doesn’t mean he’s doing any better than you, in fact, he’s probably closer to his fall from grace. you’ll never truly understand the depth of caleb xia’s want for you — every sound, every sob or sniff and shift of your increasingly sluice sex against his clothed and meaty girth gives him head rush. he never thought he’d be the one to have you like this and he couldn’t tell you the number of times he’d pictured being in this moment. the very idea saved like a secret kept under his tongue, only uttered in the form of breathy moans in the depths of the night.

now you’re his and you’re humping the print of his dick like your life is on the line — adrenaline guiding rapid rounds you grind your hips in. you belong to him and you’re clinging onto him like a life line, like he’s your last thread of sanity before you lose yourself completely — turning brainless, void of all thought whilst you look to caleb for all answers. it’s only when some kind of hybrid cry, an adorable mix between a whimper and a sob, drips like honey from your plush lips ( as though you really are a sweet puppy looking for treats ) that the colonel is able to refocus and join you in the present.

“hey. hey there, pup. you’re burnin’ up,” the colonel’s cock kicks up against your pulsating mound — pressing the ridges of his spiralling blueish veins between drenched folds, dragging them over your swollen clit deliciously. he thinks about it, really, he does. teasing you further to the point where you might actually burst into tears — but as his rough, dexterous fingers push you into his bare chest by the base of your spine, before they snake down to your fleshy ass just to spread you nice and wide, he switches gears. better to soothe you, coo at you, be the man you can rely on when your desires get the best of you and you can’t even think straight. “what should i do, huh? wanna make it feel better, baby. tell me what you need me to do.”

how to take care of you.

thick and viscous essence glues your cheeks together, seeping hotly through caleb’s clothes whilst he pulls them apart hungrily… and deep down he already knows the answer — his body, his mind even down to his cells and DNA, they know what has to be done in order to take care of you.

of course you don’t respond, reduced to puppy whines and snivels whilst your sex drools all over him in a subtle claim. poor thing, poor baby, you need the colonel to fix it for you — clean up your messes as he always has.

smoothing over your feverish skin, your boyfriend hums to himself — the sound vibrating from deep within his chest, sending a spark of lust moving through your own body and down to your weeping slit. “how about a kiss? c’mere, wanna kiss you.” the tip of his tongue pries apart your lips before you can even register the wet sensation as it licks over chapped skin in order to reach your own tongue. now caleb’s angled his head upwards, earnest and intentional, ready to swallow you whole – though contrastingly…his kisses aren’t too rough or fast paced. much unlike the way the two of you hump one another other. no, with each lip lock – you find that the end game of his lips is different. barely there, gentle as he slothily rolls his pink muscle over each feature of your hot mouth. claiming you, tasting you and promising you pleasure with unspoken works so long as you trust him.

you taste like the hours of love that you’ve made and the soured apple candies you’d shared in between – but underneath remains the subtle notes of you. caleb leans up for more, swallowing each and every one of your pitiful cries because you oh-so willingly give them to him in a gesture of love and trust. although your thoughts feel sluggish and mushy, you instinctively seek him out for comfort and lust. the dark haired man has never been more thankful for your bravery, daring to try out this new kink. it brings out a cuter, more vulnerable side of you that he just wants to keep all for himself.

perhaps its the lack of air and oxygen circulating from your lungs to your brain whilst you make out and dry-fuck like teenagers – but you find your limbs going so slack on top of caleb to the point where he has no choice but to collapse back into your bed. despite how clipped and cold the colonel, has grown to be, warmth blossoms underneath your skin as his palms smooth their way up your back and trace the curve in your spine until caleb is properly able to cup your throat from behind — pulling you up for another soul consuming smooch. he relishes in your flavour, the promise on your tongue and the dedication behind your teeth,

between the sloppy kisses you exchange, uncoordinated but full of want, each one of them doting — caleb exhales desperately through his nose, loving lavender orbs fluttering at the never-ending deliciously hot friction between your overworked bodies. he should be spent, should be exhausted after spending hours pouring passion into you until your limbs were loose in their sockets and splayed out on the sheets … but there’s something about the needy look in your eye, the sparkle ignited in them when he calls you his sweet puppy that keeps the colonel going. “will you let me fuck you? ‘cause i really wanna fuck you, puppy. please.” he lets out a glacé gripe, dragging out each syllable in a way that makes you go a little dumb and woozy for him. “let me roll us over, yeah? lie on your back for me…”

there’s a brief moment where caleb pulls back just to kick off his sweats, but you howl like you’ve been wounded or shoved back into your puppy crate without so much as a kiss goodnight. so, the dark haired man doesn’t even bother, shoving down the fabric with his boxers in one go, until they sit under his fat, heavy balls and his leaky shaft is able to spring free — hitting his washboard abs with a dull, sticky thud. no matter how many times you find yourselves making love, you can’t help but drool when caleb’s cock comes into your line of sight. he’s as thick as he is long. accompanied by a flushed tip dribbling a viscous stream of opaque white. proof of the arousal you stir up within him. “so impatient, be a good girl and wait for me. you can do that, right?” the dark-haired colonel tuts but… its not malicious. never that. not with you. instead rather boarding on the edge of restraint — trying to have patience for a sweet pet that has yet to properly be trained.

all you can respond with his a symphony of whimpers and whistle-like moans — lips parted with strings of saliva tethering your tongue to the roof of your mouth on display for your gross, pervy boyfriend to see. he loves the view, he really does, and it only makes the man more eager to wreck or ruin you until you’re satisfied. caleb could please you for hours, it’s all he’s ever wanted to do — go rounds and rounds without stopping if that’s all that you want. tossing the name puppy into the mix only worsened this desire for him.

no longer intent on letting time pass, effortlessly, the colonel flips you onto your back and groans softly as your legs instinctively part to make room for him. you can’t hide the way your sex glistens with arousal, a fresh slick webbed over your puffy and abused folds only worsening the transparency of your barely-there panties. they’re practically see through now, letting caleb see every inch of your perfect cunt and the way she clenches hungrily around nothing.

a greedy little hole ready to be filled after hours and hours of being fucked silly.

all because you like being reduced to nothing but a dumb puppy.

the way he watches you, picks you apart with that alluring amethyst stare is entirely too hypnotic and tilts your world on its axis. it’s crazy how he’s always so easily able to pull you into his orbit, even more so with the way you’re unable to tell if it’s because of his evol or the way he loves up on you. on instinct, your hips jump up as if to beckon caleb to fill you to the brim with whatever he can. you know you’re being voracious, taking whatever you can from the colonel who gives you the entire universe already, but if you can already taste him in the intimate buzz of the night air, smell him on your skin and feel him even when he’s not physically touching you — what more is asking to be bred like the desperate puppy in heat that you are.

another beat passes before a large and rough palm snakes its way down to caleb’s bobbing erection — he pumps himself twice, languidly, nearly getting lost in the pleasure and the sight of you enticingly on display for him.your body shines with light perspiration, your chest unevenly heaves with desperation, your pretty lips bitten and swollen, your inner thighs glossy and glazed with slick… and god, your eyes. his gut painfully twists with lust when he notices your darkened bedroom eyes . he could cum right here, right now. but your tone when you call his name is dulcet yet demanding — no foreplay. just him.

“caleb…”

you sound so broken and yet the only thing on your mind, the only word you can think to utter is his name… which belongs only to you. it’s so entertaining to witness the ways in which you crave him and unravel just for him, putting him at the centre of your universe where you are the centre of his own. you’ve had enough of the sensual hump and grind the two of you were once committed to, every part of you is aching for more of him — a painfully hot sensation, almost like a supernova, beginning to burn in the pit of your stomach. staving off his orgasm, caleb shifts forward on the bed and temperately presses his now bare, throbbing shaft against the gusset of your soaked panties — a strangled noise searing at the ridges in his throat at the sight of your juices seeping out of the cotton fabric.

he’s so close to being inside you, so close to shattering your world view because only caleb xia could ever bring you such pleasure. cloying and sticky sounds reverberate between your sweltering sexes whilst caleb pushes the entirety of himself through the length of your juicy slit. “i know, i know,” he coos over the messy soundtrack which is then ad-libbed by gentle sighs of relief, even as his pathetically weepy cockhead catches on the tight ring of your entrance that clenched down on him ever so slightly. the tiny little hole squeezes sweet droplets of essence all over him, adding the extra lube the colonel needs to slip inside of you without any unnecessary pain. “so fuckin’ soaked,” caleb voices quietly, his cadence made fuller by the admiration he has for you. “slick little puppy cunt… she’s gonna drive me crazy.”

he can hardly believe how he chastised you earlier for your impatience when he can’t even keep himself in check — between watching your angelic face crumple with babyish tears at the lewd praise to the way your spasming hole glides perfectly over his naked mushroomed tip, caleb is seconds away from losing his mind. he can’t take much longer, every second he waits to fuck you stupid has him losing his composure, and so, the dark haired leader of the Farspace Fleet finally hooks your soiled undies over the meat of your ravaged folds and aligns himself with your eager entrance — rolling his girth deep into you in one swift motion.

both of you let out gargled stuttering breaths you hadn’t realised either of you were holding — finding solace in the fact that your bodies are finally joining as one for the nth time that day.

with one hand, caleb carefully feeds your selfish sex with every inch — whilst the other roughly pushes up the hoodie that drowns your perfectly soft body. he touches you everywhere, revealing and mapping out more of your supple skin the more inches of him you take. when his comforting and warm palms eventually smooth over your stomach, the colonel presses down and gripes cutely at the outline of himself in your tummy as he bottoms out. “fuck puppy, so wet ‘n warm. can feel you clenchin’ down on me. squirmin’. relax for me...” a pleased huff coasts along the column of your throat, now that your boyfriend has thrown his entire body weight on top of you, ready to pound you through the mattress. you’re barely conscious enough to register his instructions, too worked up to focus on more than one thing at a time. “easy, pretty girl.,,”

right now, it’s the weight of his cock nestled against your rippling, wet walls — making a home for him deep within your cunt. “a-ah!” panting and heaving, you keen your head upwards for a kiss to pacify yourself and sag with relief when your boyfriend indulges you, licking into the wet cavern of your mouth to help you cope with the delicious stretch of his heavy, sloppy shaft fighting the slight resistance from your sensitive, squishy insides. “mmf— caleb! s’big!” you push the words around in your mouth, cottony on your tongue as the colonel swallows them down in the form of moans.

caleb only manages to nod and press his forehead against yours when the need for oxygen outweighs the need to comfort you with kisses. using a gluttonous grasp he hikes the backs of your knees onto the unfairly perfect dips in his waist for a better angle, thrusting into you experimentally. “you say that every time, pips. when are you gonna get used to takin’ me?” amusement fluffs up his question, though it’s not long before his confident attitude dissolves and a mop of chocolaty brown hair is dropping to your neck in search of some sort of reprieve — a tempting whine breaches the seal of his lips and tickles the shell of your ear, because now that your hips are pressed flush against his and your pulsating puppy pussy envelopes him fully, caleb isn’t sure how long he’ll be able to hold out. “s-sorry puppy, not gonna last long. not with you wrapped around me like this.”

“s’okay. feel so full…” you cry out blinking away the bleary edge to your vision — and then you turn to look at him with those sickeningly sweet bambi eyes at the same time he tilts his head to look at you. catching your gaze. those same eyes that seem a little too innocent when compared to the way your prettily filthy pussy locks around his aching dick.

everything is so snug, sloppy and caleb can’t help but sigh out fondly — you want to trap him inside. keep him all to yourself. he can’t even pull out now, not even to start the slow roll of his hips into yours because you refuse to let up, let go, pulling spurts from precum from him that could be enough to breed you if he tried. “but you’re taking me so well,” his voice is soft, laced with love and lust — you might almost miss it over the squelch of your own cunt each time he tries to make a move. “don’t wanna have to keep remindin’ you…you gotta relax for me, puppy.”

and you do try, you really do. to be a good and obedient — letting the tension in your bones, in the base of your spine and the joints in your hips seep into your fingertips whilst they reach out to grab the sheets. “‘m tryin’,” you say petulantly, small and weak like an angelic little thing, bucking upwards as if to force yourself to accommodate caleb’s sheer size. “move please. y-you can move…”

even if it hurts, you want him to have you, destroy your puppy cunt until it’s gushing and gross with even more of his cum — you’re practically full of it anyway. the idea is fulfilling, the way you want him so bad even when you’re struggling to take him, make room for him in your precious little pussy. light kisses cascade down your neck to ease the tightness on your muscles, rendering you dumb. stupid. weak enough to let the colonel pull back from the snugness of your heat to start a slow and steady steam-roll to his hips, his own thrusts.

“that’s it…that’s it, baby,” the brunette wraps an arm around the back of your head to keep you anchored to the bed as it creaks beneath the new weight of his ministrations. “even after hours, you’re still so good at takin’ it.” caleb starts you off easy, a kindness to your fluttering hole that’s been used and abused just mere hours before but the creamy strings of your arousal clinging to each blue ridge that spirals down the length of him act as motivation to claim you over and over again. faster. harder. give you everything. more. “can’t get enough of your caleb’s cock. ain’t that right, puppy?”

he slurs his words, sultry simpers slipping out from between his lightly chapped lips — letting them break out from behind the barricade of his perfect white teeth. hot air fills the little space between you both, buzzing with the lust expelled from your pores and the splashy saliva pouring from your open mouth when you mewl out for him. you nod, just barely, and in response — the colonel pounds into you with more vigor, the affirmation running through his system like pure honey, liquid gold.

there’s a friction from your soft cotton panties against the veins on his chubby cock, deliciously rubbing against him each time he glides in and out of swollen pussy. you have no idea how good it burns for caleb, how happy he is to see your seams loosen underneath him and your sanity to fade away along with his own. “g-good, ‘cause it’s all yours. always yours. just like you’re always going to be mine.” caleb wonders if you know much he needs you, how he’d die without you and how you’re the only person able to bring him back from the darkest parts of himself.

“m-mine?” your soft palms become clammy and tacky as they move to map up and down your boyfriend’s toned back — pulling him into you with the underlying message that you’ll never ever let him go. he’s so good to you, indulging your little fantasy, fucking you into the waning bed like it’s his god given right. you love caleb and all that he does for you. to you. so you hold him tight, unwilling to let him leave your silken insides because you feel like you might die if his dick isn’t safely tucked into your ribbed, sloshing walls.

something about the way you so meekly ask, coupled with the scratches you rake across his honey manuka skin in your own form of a fated red string — drives the colonel up the fucking wall. he’s dazed whilst he grinds into you avidly, jamming his seedy cockhead into your g-spot and swallowing down a thick whine each time he feels sweet nectar spew from between your nether lips in reply. painting him, glazing him, covering him nastily. “that’s right, that’s right sweet puppy. ‘m all yours,” extending the letters in ‘all’, caleb finds himself commenting back entirely too quickly and eagerly — grunting, heightening the ecstasy both you feel. he takes one of your hands in his, bringing it to the molten centre of his bare chest so you can feel his heartbeat. how it yearns for you. “no one else will ever get me like this…”

the display of dedication causes dopamine to bloom across the surface of your brain and other happy hormones streak through your bloodstream, stinging at your clit all smooshed up against caleb’s pelvis as he bucks into you passionately. every weighty, sensational drag of his dick along your gummy walls sends you to the high heavens and every one of his pathetically hungry moans heaved against the shell of your ear brings you back down to earth. grounding you. it goads you to clumsily circle your hips upwards, sweetly trying to match your boyfriend’s ravenous pace.

with skin slapping against skin rhythmically, your body jolts up the bed from the force of caleb’s hips clashing and crashing into yours — each movement full of love, intimate commitment because your bodies move together in ways only lovers know. sharing a familiar choreography, tangled limbs and high pitched moans that should be enough to wake your neighbours. there’s power behind the manner in which the colonel ploughs into you. he’s going so fast you’re scared he might rip through the underwear clinging to your waist but either way it has your heart racing beneath your breasts as they bounce, hardened nipples grazing caleb’s — you’re skin to skin, the blistering hot temperature of your flesh and bones mashing together fuelling this next round of passion.

slow, nearly painful waves crawl down from the base of your skull to the bottom of your spine — a tell tell sign of your orgasm and the release only the colonel can give you. he has you seizing up around him until sugary sighs tear from your throat and you to have to bite down on your lush lips to stop yourself from wailing. witnessing you fall apart like this creates an adoring hiccup in the way the cold commander bucks down into your quivering, creamy pussy. every mewl disintegrates into a loose gasp of his name and its syllables, all muddled up and panted out like a puppy succumbing to her heat and every jolt of your body beneath his earns you a seamless, steady stroke of his messy cockhead along the pleasure spots dotted along your walls that only he knows about.

“can’t last any longer… it’s too much…” you bleat hoarsely, sounding more wrecked and aroused than he’s ever had you before. you’re both so sticky, glued to one another by a crude mix of your arousals and sweat from your session of love making — caleb is relentless at his loving, the pinnacle of your pleasure melting into a constant trance like a forest fire that’s too stubborn to go out.

he laughs at you, almost patronising but still in a lower register, sexier and deeper than his usual voice. “yeah? but if you want it…you’ll keep going,” now he’s whispering darkly, licking a wet trace up the side of your face and tasting the perspiration on your skin that makes you shine in the dark. practically glowing from the sex, the pretty pet names he calls you to help you along and teach your high. “my perfect puppy gets so happy when she’s full of cock ‘n cum, hm? bet if you had a tail it would be waggin’ like nobody's business.” he adds, pinging the waistband of your panties against your stomach.

although he’s the one in control right now, sucking on the junction of your jaw and leaving his mark — making you squeal like a lamb at the slaughter. caleb feels as though he’s trapped under your spell, ready to give you his all and his everything. your cunt languidly rolls up to meet his, breathy whimpers tacky against the wet bridge of his cupid’s bow. he falls into a trance as he fucks you? hikes your thighs up from his waist and over his wide-set shoulders, spreading you apart to split you open and hit deep. he wants to go deeper, harder — never letting up on your g-spot, because when he’s jamming up against it, pressing down on it… he gets to keep all of your pitchy squeaks and sighs to himself like they’re a promise of your commitment to him.

his ownership over you. his perfect puppy.

the newfound angle has your eyelids growing heavier and heavier, lips constantly parted the closer you get to the edge. “g-gods… caleb, please!” you gargle on whatever words that come to mind, mumbling praises into the tight and barely there space between your bodies. said body speaks for you, squeezing and frothing and foaming at the thick base of his pulsing length. whilst caleb hugs your head, you grip his neck — shaky fingers curling in the roots of thick, chocolatey hair all mussed up from sex and tugging on those same locks in that way he likes.

no one would believe you if you told them the colonel practically sobbed at the sudden sensation, overstimulated by both the pain and the pleasure. the molten heat of your precious rippling cunt coated in his pre-seed, the rough friction of your panties still stuffed to one side and keeping him strapped to you, the way you murmur his name between a litter of curses. caleb’s unfairly long lashes flutter against the apples of your burning cheeks, drawing all whiny and romantic over the saliva spread across the planet of his tongue. “good puppy, clenching down on me just like that, do you think you can lift your hips for me?”

you do just as he says, although the colonel mostly manhandles you into position — forcing you into perfect submission, letting you be small and safe with him. your hips rise from the sex stained sheets, helping the tune of his measured grinds and ardent, calculated stream of lunges into your blistering mound. but while you follow his command, he follows the instruction of your own body — greedy puppy cunt refusing to let him go, locking down his feverish pre-cum drooling cockhead against your gushing walls.

large palms, rough and slightly cold smooth from the chub at your waist round to your back — fingertips digging into the curve of your spine to keep you in place whilst caleb picks up the pace. his strength comes into handy, alternating between gentle oscillations of his hips to hard, purposeful plunges that drag you along to the very peak of cloud nine. you spew copious amounts of nectar around him, marking his heavy breeder’s balls as your own, dripping viscous arousal onto the bed — you’re so turned on, so close that it’s made obvious by the nasty pap, pap, pap reverberating from your puppy pussy. sounding like a dreamy aphrodisiac, if it could be a noise or a sound.

your boyfriend withdraws from his warm solace at your neck to observe you, drink in the sight of you sprawled out against the pillows — lip caught between your teeth and expression delirious like you’re high on some kind of class A drug. he looks at you like you’re artwork hung in a fine art museum, flawless, to be admired. it makes you giggle breathlessly, back arching away from the bed whilst you greedily spasm around him involuntarily, almost as if you’re rewarding him for taking care of your needs.

everything turns languid and lazy, caleb sluggishly massages that one spot nestled deep within with his syrupy, sappy pre-cum coated cock — lost in the lassitude painted across your pretty features. a place that only he knows how to locate. caleb grins wide, slow and sexy when you choke on a babyish whinge — canines on display as his lips quirk upwards. “right there, puppy? you need it right there?” he doesn’t wait for your answer, he can tell by the contraction in your tummy and how your eyes roll back into your skull too. “mnn fuck, deserve a treat for listenin’ so well,” he swoops down, licking at your top lip. “c’mon, open up…”

again, you easily follow his dominant orders — hot breath coasting over the tip of his tongue as you part your lips to make room for whatever gift he has for you. the leader of the Farspace Fleet leans over, letting a slow stringy glob of spit fall into your mouth before the rough pad of a single thumb moves quickly to smear the frothy mix over your pretty pouty lips. “So drooly; aren’t you?” he says tranquilly, more so to himself. you like it though, the way he talks down on you, throwing your hips up to match his thrusts and make a home for his milky girth between your creamy soaked folds both rubbed and fucked raw. “shit… that’s it, take it. take it where you need me most. take what you want from me, what you need from me.”

a dull thump against the mattress from every thrust, brackets the airy moans that you share — rising above the sound of smacking lips and tongues being sucked on. your mixed precum and essence soiling the bedding creates a shine on caleb’s pelvis and webs over your thrumming clit — the new wetness distracts you from the heavy clap of your boyfriend’s balls against the curve of your ass, voiding anything you’d planned on saying.

“‘m d-drooly…” you stutter softly.

caleb hums, leaning down to nip the tip of your nose. “a drooly what?”

“puppy. ‘m a drooly puppy. wanna cum caleb. please…” a hearty sob tears your lungs to shreds, shaking your body right down to its core. you don't think you can take anymore, you can’t hold off the orgasm that burns through your nerve endings like a flame to kindle. finally being able to admit that you’re his puppy washes over you like a burn salve, helps you to find the energy to push back and forth on his cock to alleviate its ache. so that the notorious leader of the Farspace Fleet can cum with you. the notorious colonel leaks and leaks, an endless stream of near transparent white that oozes against your wet walls from his bright red tip and aids his movements. “g’na cum!”

it’s so cute how you announce your pending orgasm to him as if the signs aren’t already there. the commander, your boyfriend, your caleb, knows every tick and sign that you have — he can read your body like an open book, he probably wrote the pages too. he knows when you’re close, when you need more, or when he has you right on the edge. no one knows more about you, than caleb xia does. and what his puppy wants, his puppy absolutely gets.

“i know, i know, baby,” caleb goads, a crease forming between his brows from where he’s focused on bringing you to release. “can feel the way this puppy cunt is lockin’ up around me. so close to creaming. all over me, yeah? all over me puppy. give it to me..” he can tell that you’re right there, teetering on the edge of bliss and insanity — he won’t keep you writhing much longer, since you’re already so sensitive from all the sex you’ve had during the day alone. he’s just happy, prideful to be pulling another orgasm out of his pretty girl while making all of her fantasies come true.

your panties are so soaked through they could be rung out and drip your arousal for days — though your slit is in no better condition, pouring treacly essence onto the purplish forked veins of caleb’s shaft as it pulses with his own peak. he feels too much sympathy to make you hold it and overwork your cunt, not when you sound so wet and cry so loud and beg for mercy. he slaps your clit, patting it oh-so lovingly to help you along — tilting his head to the side to get the best view of you breaking underneath him. “go ahead, pup,” he coos to you, making a promise only he can keep. “make yourself feel good, cum on my cock. let me see it, kay?”

“a-ah! c-caleb!” arching upwards, pressing your naked chest to his in an attempt to seek out the colonel’s closeness for comfort — you succumb to the unravelling knot in your lower tummy, the one undone by uncoordinated and feverish thrusts. your final words catch on the edge of your teeth, sitting wetly on the seam of your lips as you blubber out for the high commander himself. your lover.. “h-holy shit… ‘mmmfuck! c-cummin’!” you manage to get out as your release crashes over you like waves on a shoreline — pulled in by the moon’s gravity, just like caleb’s own force pulls you into him. when you cum, it’s loud, all of your walls come tumbling down and the colonel is the only one able to piece you back together. shakes and shivers overtake your body, darkness floods your vision as your pupils dilate and you don't even realise you’re practically fainting from the force of your orgasm until it’s too late. blacked out and blissed out beneath caleb.you squirt so hard, it nearly forces the sheet thickness of your boyfriend from your abused and swollen folds.

but he doesn’t let go, doesn’t pull out — collapsing on top of you and using the last of his own strength to chase his well earned release. “that’s my girl, such a good fuckin’ girl. cumming all over me. all over her cock,” caleb rambles aimlessly, working himself through the violent spasms of your cunt just so that he can keep rocking into you. “can i i breed you? give this sweet hole all my cum? get you all round ‘n full of our pups? t-think i will, think you’ll like it,” he gets way too into your fantasy but you’re too brainless to care, allowing the colonel to use your trembling body like a ragdoll to get off, barely fighting the agonising ache in his pelvis and the orgasm that tears him to pieces like a black hole.“fuck, fuuuuck. oh my god, ‘m cummin’ got you puppy…c-cumming!”

one last squeeze and clench of your ribbed walls down on him, practically begging to be filled with cum, is the final push caleb needs to reach cloud nine. instinctively, he forces himself as deep as your pussy will allow — mushroomed tip nuzzling your overstimulated pleasure spots before a burst of white hot seed fills you to the absolute brim. the Fleet commander, usually so rigid and strong and eerily composed, lets out a strangled sob against your hairline — shaking like a leaf and bucking weakly into you to make sure whatever he’s given you is able to stick. there’s so much of it, despite how many rounds you’ve gone, and it smears over your cute little clit, hole and pudgy pussy lips until there’s nothing left for him to give.

the two of you fall into romantic, love-tainted silence — a heaving, heavy breathing pile of limbs on your bed that most definitely needs a good change of sheets and linens. neither of you can find it in your hearts to care in that moment, instead, immediately chasing one another’s lips for comforting kisses as you languidly grind against each other. where his cock intermittently throbs as it softens, your pussy occasionally flutters as you calm down from your high. you don’t let caleb pull out and it’s not like he wants to either.

fatigue sinks its claws into you both, but you can’t stop the way your heart beats erratically and your mind swims with relief. “thank you,” you hum, voice small and appreciative as caleb rolls off of you — yet keeps you close by pulling you into his side. “i love you.”

in any other moment, caleb might have scolded you for your thanks, you’d never need to thank him for fulfilling his duty and taking care of you but he knows you only say it for him. so he knows his act and willingness to try something new for you (albeit in the bedroom), means more than you could ever put into words. so instead, caleb nuzzles into you — plasters a barrage of smooches against your warm face until you’re in fits of giggles and soothed entirely. “i love you most,” he mimics your cadence, allowing the pleasant crackle in the back of his skull to guide his words. “i love everything about you, the way you feel and the way you trust me… and the way you cum so hard when i call you my puppy…”

and even though he’s probably fucked every last drop of energy out of you — you can’t help but sit up with quickness, grasping the closest pillow to whack the colonel into next tuesday. out of pure embarrassment from his teasing, of course.

your once sleepy eyes blow wide, that shy demeanour sweeping over you once more… almost as if you hadn’t just spent the last thirty minutes blabbering all sorts of filth in the name of your own puppy pet play fantasy. “caleb xia!”

“whaaaaat?” your boyfriend drawls slowly, laughing from underneath the pillow you suffocate him with. his sexy tone is almost enough to get you riled up once more.“you asked for it! i’ll even get you a cute little collar for next time. how’s that sound?”

“oh my god, shut up!”

“make me!”

you did ask for it, you suppose. that much is true.

but you’d ask a hundred times over if it meant caleb would fuck you like a dog in rut all over again.