KINKTOBER: DAY 27

Day 27: Puppy play

ADVENTURES OF YOU: Good puppy

WORD COUNT: 1K

TAGS: AOY, male reader, puppy play, birth kink, public birth, clothing birth, nsfw, +18

All you want to do is be a good boy. It's kinda in the job description, really. That is all you have to do, be good and obey your owner's words.

It was all worth it when you could see the pride flashing in their eyes at having such a good puppy, wasn't it?

That's why you didn't doubt it one second when he insisted you would look so, so good filled up with his pups, with the skin of your stomach stretched taut, with your chest engorged and sensitive with milk. When he insisted he had to knock you up. Your owner had been very compelling with the way his eyes wandered over your body, over your hips, how he let his fingers grip your lower belly and remind you that it was empty just for now as he fucked you, his movements desperate as he insisted he just couldn't pull out, that he needed to fill you up. 

It wasn't a surprise that he couldn't keep his hands or his eyes off you when you finally started to show. When your middle started to swell with his pups, when it became harder to find shirts that could fit you without the fabric rolling all the way up to expose your gravid stomach.

All you had to do was be good and keep the pups in your belly growing big and strong. That's what your owner said, and why wouldn't you trust him? Who else could know better?

Your owner obviously only wanted the best for you and his pups.

So why wouldn't you believe him when he says that the pains in your belly are just a tummy ache? Just the pups moving around. And it was not like you, honestly, were really keeping track of things. In the past few months, it felt as if you had slowly turned a little brainless and heavily pregnant thing. All you could think about was the pups growing inside of you, your constantly growing middle, and your wet hole all the time, always ready for your owner to fuck you anytime it was necessary.

So you had nothing to worry about. As long as the pups were big and strong inside your belly, they would come when they were ready. So even when you woke up that morning, and the world felt uncomfortable, a bit... God, how do you put it? You're so pregnant you can barely breathe or move, with a litter of pups kicking and squirming inside of you, crushing your ribs with every movement. That's one way to put it.

So even with the weird pain that was seething in your belly, of course you happily accepted putting on the leash for a nice walk in the park. 

Even when your body feels so weird. Your owner assured you it was nothing, that it was such a nice day outside that you had to make the most out of it.

So when the cramps start, of course, you believe your owner when he says they are just the result of your inactivity. You had become such a lazy puppy these last few months, too big, too full to do anything but lie there and beg for bell rubs on your taut stomach. 

That's alright. You keep walking. These cramps will go away once your body is warmed up. You keep smiling along every time someone stops on their way to look down at you, eyes widening as they wander down the gravid dome of your stomach. Nodding your head when your owner lets overly excited strangers rub your belly in awe, even when the touch becomes overbearing, when all the groping starts to turn overstimulating instead of nice. 

But of course, you believe your owner when he says that the pressure you're feeling is just the tiredness settling down on your lower back; it can't be easy to carry all that weight around. That the way your body contorts and bends over itself, barely letting you walk straight, as your belly hangs tight and distended in front of you, it's normal for someone this pregnant.

Be a good boy and keep walking, your owner says, and you obey. Silly you for having an accident, your owner says as liquid drips from between your legs. Still, you follow the lead when your owner tugs at your leash, even when now the pressure is so much, so hard to just pretend it isn't there. Still, you follow the lead when you have to bite your lips to keep yourself from moaning in the middle of the park. 

It can’t be that your owner is wrong, so when he says that you just can’t be feeling the first pup beginning to move down your birth canal, then he must be right. But if you insist so much, of course, your owner will allow it to go back home, even if the day is so nice it's such a shame you wanna head back already. 

You try to not hurry and tug at the leash because you know your owner doesn't like that, even when the pain in your middle becomes just the constant tightening of the muscles of your distended abdomen, even when the pressure is so much that you can barely walk straight and it forces your legs wide apart so much you start to walk funny, because every step feels like something big and heavy is just seconds away from just falling out of you.

But by the tone of your owner's voice, you know he means it when he says you'd better keep walking. So you obey, even when you feel your hole starting to open around the head of one of the pups and you can feel your clothes starting to stick to your legs, soaked by the amniotic liquid trickling out of you.  

When he says you have to hold it in, you obey. Because you know he means it. So you keep walking, even as you feel your hole starting to stretch around the head of your pup, your pants starting to bulge obscenely with the unmistakable round shape between your legs.

You know he means it. Even when you can barely take one step without the head just pushing further out of you, only restrained by the wet fabric of your pants, when your whimpers only get louder and louder, when people start to stare, shamelessly gathering around to stare, when you just can't hold it in any longer, when you realize that you're not making it home before your firs pup crowns in your pants.

Your owner tugs at the leash, and you keep walking, a wail escaping your lips as you feel your pup's head forcing its way out of you, forcing your legs spread wide to accommodate the huge bulge between your legs. When your owner says you're gonna have to hold it in even if he has to push it back inside of you, you know he means it.