#puppytalk

[otter-pup]

having slow-rapid pregnancy thoughts

we have a fun, rowdy evening, and i fill you up multiple times. we didn’t use protection, but based on the time of month, it’s probably fine.

(spoilers: it’s not)

later that night, after we drift off to sleep, i have a bleary moment of semi-consciousness. i’m spooning you, hand on your tummy, and i can feel just the slightest unexpected resistance. at first i figure it’s just you breathing, but… i could swear there’s just an almost nonexistent stretch, so subtly rounding you out. i grin and pull you closer before drifting off again.

the next morning, you definitely look bloated, but not unnaturally so. you check it out in the mirror (i check you out in the mirror), we get breakfast, and you leave to go about your day.

you keep looking down at your bulging tummy throughout the morning, expecting it to go down, rather than do the opposite. by lunchtime, you start feeling fluttery movements, and you know something’s wrong.

it’s slow enough that no one can SEE you growing, but you very clearly look pregnant when you obviously weren’t the last time your classmates saw you. i’d guess you’re expanding at a rate of a month of gestation every three hours or so, and you’re definitely carrying more than one.

it certainly doesn’t help that your outfit is about as far from obscuring your figure as your wardrobe can get. when you sit down, you can hear seams stretching ominously.

- 🦑

I’ve been keeping track of my cycle for long enough now that i don’t think twice about letting you fill me up, even begging for it, pleading dumbly for you to breed me while im completely drunk on pleasure.

we both like when you keep your hand on my belly after sex, so of course you notice when i start swelling. im already asleep by then, and you don’t mention it in the morning - you just look at me in the mirror while i check the bloating, before we both move on with our days.

the bloating doesn’t go down. im a little self conscious of how tight my shirt is around it, and my jeans are fairly tight, like always, and if i weren’t in classes i would have them unbuttoned by now. I ignore it the best i can. my stomach isn’t upset or anything, if anything im more hungry than usual, so im having lunch when i start feeling flutters inside me.

i finish eating and rush to the bathroom, unbuttoning my jeans and pulling up my shirt — which feels even tighter than it was before — enough to see how obviously swollen I’ve gotten. i rub my hands over my belly a few times, making sure I’m not imagining it. im not.

i can’t do anything until im done with classes for the day. At least, I try to finish classes. i make it through my next one, but my third and final class of the day is interrupted by the seams of my jeans tearing - and not quietly, either. i go bright red and excuse myself, heading straight home after that.

by the time we’re both home, im five, maybe sixth months along, size-wise — though i look well past full term. im surprised my shirt lasted as long as it did, though the seams on that tear during my commute back home.

we have at least another nine hours left. and, past the concern, im indescribably turned on.

it’s not like i can get any more pregnant if we spend the next nine hours breeding, right?

[midnight-puppy]

Did any of y'all develop sudden unrequited lust for me on this fine morning or will it be another uneventful day?

[needylittlepet]

on bad days I would really like to come home to someone and just be their dumb little puppy…leave all my worries at the door…..they’d be able to tell it was a tough day for me…put my collar on and tail in for me….“you did so good today my sweet pet. now let me take care of you because dumb pups can’t do anything for themselves, can they?”…lay in their lap wiggling and panting as they give me belly rubs..“my good little puppy”….maybe later they’d fuck me to sleep…my last thoughts before falling asleep consist of only being completely owned by them

[doggycrap-blog]

It was an honor to be featured on PIX-11 Morning News l! Thank you Best Friends Animal Society for letting us donate and spread the word.

[otter-pup]

Once you're so full with babies that your belly is the first thing people notice about you, I will make sure to do anything I can to set off an array of kicks so you will forget what it was like to not feel our young squirm

promise?

if the size alone wasn't enough to draw eyes towards us, my constant whimpering, gasping, and moaning would be. if not, the visible kicks and squirms of our young would be. i'm practically more womb than person at this point, huffing and gasping my way through my days as you insist on torturing me the entire time (not that i'm really suffering in any way, if you don't count how turned on it makes me while we can't do anything about it).

by the time i get to sleep, especially with how you always help me deal with the neverending need im left with at the end of the day, i cant even register the stilling of our young as they sleep too. all i ever know, for months before i give birth, is what it feels like to be full of a restless brood.

of course, when i give birth, it makes being empty that much more distressing. so within a few months, i have another positive test, and you'll have another litter to keep busy.

[otter-pup]

Once this tentacle is done laying, it pulls out and the egg closest to your cervix once more pressing down on your cervix. Though, oddly, it doesn't pull away. With the help of the other tentacle and smaller ones, back down to the floor. Almost as if they know that there's a high chance you won't be able to lay these eggs.

Still, with the help from the larger tentacle, the smaller tentacle and it wrap around your belly and squeeze. The eggs inside your inflated womb jostle around and move, some more even pressing down against the egg against your cervix, but it still doesn't budge. Not even an inch of it makes its way through your cervix.

It's some time later that the tentacles finally relent. It's obvious to them now; you're reached the point where the eggs have gotten so large you can't lay them. So they pull away and take to making you as comfortable as possible. The tentacles on the ground keep you propped up and your legs spread wide. Even if you won't be laying eggs, in the rare chance one does slip out, none of the tentacles want it becoming stuck in your cunt.

The tentacles take to periodically messing with your outrageously enormous belly. Pushing it from side to side, jostling the eggs even more. Or sometimes simply just pushing down with loads of pressure in an attempt to get even a single egg out. But not one egg manages to push past your cervix.

It's about a week later, maybe more, that you can feel movement in your belly. The tentacles outside of you react immediately crowding around your body and waiting for something. Eventually, the small outline of a tentacle presses against the skin of your belly before disappearing. The tentacle that's stuck with you the longest begins to stroke your belly, eliciting more movement.

The eggs are hatching, little eggslut. Are you excited?

🐺

im massive, once again, with this tentacles eggs, swollen bigger than should be humanly possible. i feel the first egg press against my cervix, and immediately, im sure this is it—my first unlayable clutch.

i cry out as the tentacles press down on my stomach, the egg pressing against my cervix harder, causing burning pain while barely any of it manages to slip through. i gasp every time they adjust, before going right back to crying and screaming while they try to force the first too-big egg out.

it’s a relief when they finally stop, making sure I’m comfortable and keeping my legs spread. im asleep in minutes, exhausted from the stress the failed laying had put on my body.

im always awoken to pleasure, at least one of the tentacles rubbing at my sensitive, swollen belly and making me moan. they aren’t even as intense when they push down on it to try and get me to lay—the pressure is just as much as before, but they relent much quicker.

the number of eggs in my belly stops me from noticing anything different at first—i assume the eggs are just shifting after the tentacles had been jostling my belly. but eventually, i realize it’s movement, something changing, as the tentacles gather around me.

im watching, too, and able to see for myself when the first tentacle presses against my skin from inside—a weird, but good feeling. the big tentacle wrapped around me is immediately touching my belly, and I keep watching as more and more outlines of tentacles bulge my stomach.

i loved being big for so long, but I’m excited to finally get these ones out—it means I can finally get even bigger.

[otter-pup]

The final egg drops from you cunt and falls to the pile below, and you can even see a few start to shake slightly. You took so long to lay them that the first ones you laid had begun hatching. It must've been a sign of things to come.

The next tentacle wastes no time thrusting into your cunt. It seemed to have been watching when the tentacle wrapped around you had argued with the other, as it takes its time laying the first egg into you. The first egg moves slowly, slow enough for you to acclimate to the size without any of the stretching liquid needed. But a problem arrises when the tip of the egg kisses your cervix.

Despite your cervix having been stretched so wide so many times, it's an effort and even a bit painful to even get a quarter of the egg into your womb. However, your cervix eventually gives way and the egg pops into your womb. And just like you had imagined, the egg has you looking due with sextuplets. A singular egg has you this big? There's so many more to come, how massive will you get from this clutch then?

The tentacles takes its time pumping the eggs into you, partly as to not hurt you and partly because of the first large tentacle seemingly watching it like a hawk. The tentacle wrapped around your body and moving as your belly grows seems absolutely enamored with you.

It loves to secret two liquids over your skin; the stretching one you're so used to and an aphrodisiac one. Along with the aphrodisiacs being pumped into you, your skin is so sensitive that it almost makes you moan. The tentacle also enjoys squeezing around you and jostling the eggs in your ever-growing womb around. It can't help itself, your reactions are just too adorable.

And it'll be there to watch and help as you struggle to lay this next clutch. Isn't that amazing, little eggslut incubator? Being chosen by one of the older tentacles? I'm sure it has your heart racing.

🐺

i watch the eggs id laid first start to shake as the other tentacle lined up with my cunt. im hoping it’ll go the same way for this next one’s eggs, that ill be able to lay them before they hatch, to take one more clutch before im stuck incubating them until they hatch.

the first egg presses into and through my cunt, slowly, before getting almost completely stuck at my cervix, and im forced to almost completely give up on any hope of laying these ones. if it takes this much to force them in—my whining and gasping as my cervix is forced to stretch even wider—then i don’t think ill be able to get it back out.

the tentacle laying the eggs seems unconcerned, and so does the one around me—soothing my whines by rubbing over my belly with more of the stretching liquid and aphrodisiac, making me whine and clench around the tentacle inside me. it must help it finish laying this first egg, since it slips into my womb seconds later, making me cry out as my stomach swells.

im so big already. I try to imagine how big I’ll end up, but I can’t. even still, i whine and beg for it—im a good eggslut, i can take it all. any concerns of not being able to lay the eggs is gone, replaced by such a strong desire to carry them.

the tentacle around me squeezes for the first time, reminding me of the jostling ill have to expect from it later, when I’m swollen beyond recognition and waiting to be given the chance to lay—or in this case, maybe waiting for the eggs to hatch. i whine at the squeeze, and at the stretch of my cunt around the next egg pushing inside me.

[otter-pup]

historical scenario:

as the prince, your parents have spared no expense getting you the finest tutors to prepare you to ascend to the throne (though your father remains in good health, long may he reign). you’re excellent with languages, accomplished with swordplay, know how to navigate the treacherous waters of court life with relative ease. a comprehensive education, with just one gap that you feel might be a massive oversight:

magic. alchemy. uncovering the hidden, intricate workings of Creation.

the king and queen don’t believe that sorcery is a pursuit worthy of your time (“That’s what the court astrologer is for,” your mother says, waving in my direction). after discussions turning into arguments, they outright forbid you to begin lessons with me.

so, of course, you come to my quarters at an odd hour of night, demanding, pleading with me to teach you in secret.

i wonder if your parents had other reasons to keep you from studying privately with me.

i shouldn’t. i really shouldn’t. it’s my neck on the line if they find out.

but alchemy is a complex, volatile frontier, and i could certainly use an assistant… i usher you in.

it is dull, arduous work, with a good deal of sweeping, grand theory, and only occasionally any tangible reward. but i part the veil for you. the divine mechanism of the stars, the basic elements of world, the Great Work. piece by piece, your understanding of reality shifts and expands, and… it is wonderful. breathtaking.

one evening, an experiment comes to its culmination— success. the two of us look in awe as the substances combine, swirl, and ignite— a striking, unearthly glow in the candlelit laboratory. as it dies down, we are both ranting excitedly, talking over each other as i ensure the concoction is safely stoppered and you document everything in the shorthand i taught you. we cheer, we grab each other and dance, and finally we are still for a moment, breathing heavily, holding each other, and i look down into your wide, shining eyes.

“It worked,” is all i say.

we combine. we swirl. we ignite. on the work table, against my bookcases. i help you see stars.

soon, it’s not just your understanding of reality that’s expanding.

- 🦑

i'm endlessly curious, much to my parents' dismay when all the tutoring they can offer me isn't enough to sate it. i want to know More -- more dangerous, tedious things that are meant to be told to me, not found by me.

so of course i come to you. i need to know, curiosity burning insatiable in my core, and you're the only one who can teach me. and, against my parents' wishes, with all the risk that entails, you do.

teaching me properly is very hands-on, to say the least - your hands overlapping mine as you show me the proper way to stir each individual concoction for the proper result, the proper way to hold the vials when pouring to keep it from spilling. soon enough, each touch is lighting more of a fire than it's sating, though i refuse to voice it and risk my unofficial, unauthorized apprenticeship.

and then we succeed. something we'd been working towards for months finally comes to fruition. and as soon as it's done, we're touching again with no real need, dancing around the workshop, and from there? the second fire you lit in me is finally sated - if it ever can be sated.

i can't be sure why i get so big so fast, if it's a side effect of my constant interaction with the arcane or if i'm simply that fertile naturally. regardless, my parents cannot simply get rid of the sire of the next royal children, saving you from their wrath.

i'm glad for it, because even as i'm still growing, i know this is far from the last litter i'll carry, and i want you to give me each one, to teach me more about seeing stars and about expansion each time.