#fantasy only

I can imagine the way he'd fuck me furiously, hungrily — feral — as soon as we saw two lines on the test. Growling “you’re mine” as he does — equal parts desperate adoration and powerful ownership.

He'd spend the first few months getting my wardrobe ready. There would be stricter rules than ever before, in place the second I start showing. Deep scoop neck fitted tops — form fitting dresses that show off every curve and swell — sweet empire-waist dresses that emphasize how much my belly is growing — low-slung skirts that sit below my stomach paired with skimpy crop tops pushed up above it. 

The first time I can tell that someone noticed in public, I tell him about it that night, and he reaches between my legs and finds me soaking. He tells me that more and more, the people — men — who see me will notice my belly and immediately think about me naked, getting fucked, getting bred — they’ll wonder what position I was in, what my naked body looked like, what noises I was making, what my cunt looked like after, cum slowly dropping out. Edging me again and again, barely a touch needed, as he tells me that soon everyone will see proof of what I am — his, owned, devoted, a vessel for him now in the most literal sense. He reminds me that whenever we’re out together, people will know that it’s his baby I’m carrying, that he’s the one who made me like this — the one who owns my body utterly.

I know I’ll be throbbing. I know I’ll beg. But he won’t let me come until I admit out loud what he already knows, what my body’s already betrayed — that I like knowing that people will think about me fucked, flooded with his seed, owned and used by him, that I want to show off my body, his prized possession, as I grow for him. That it makes me wet to think about men openly staring at my swollen tits when we’re out together, imagining them splattered with his cum or picturing what my engorged nipples look like or imagining how their soft heft feels to grope and grab, jealous of him for not just being able to enjoy my body’s new charms but also because he's the one who got to transform me like this.

Being blamed is such a turn on for me.

"You can't blame me if you look like that."

"I couldn't resist, your face is just too adorable."

"Why are you crying? You wanted the attention, now you have it."

"If you didn't want to be ogled at, why would you go out wearing that dress?"

"Clearly, you wore your hair up to show off your neck. Of course I had to squeeze the pretty thing."