@@ -20458,7 +20458,7 @@ You tell her kindly that you understand, and that $he'll be trained to address t
massage the soft butter into $his flat chest, noting with satisfaction $his nipples harden with arousal.
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Satisfied with your covering of your slave's back half, you then resolve to work on $his front. Getting down on your hands and knees, you crawl through the narrow triangle of space between the base of your slave's massive belly, the floor, and the doorway. It's a tight squeeze, and you take longer than you need to in order to enjoy the sound of your slave groaning as you rub up against $his sweaty, buttered up belly, but you eventually make it through. Taking generous handfuls of butter, you slick up the front half of your slave's stomach, starting at the flattened nub of $his pressureobliterated belly button and slowly working your way up to the round oval of baby-packed flesh being constricted by the doorway.
Satisfied with your covering of your slave's back half, you then resolve to work on $his front. Getting down on your hands and knees, you crawl through the narrow triangle of space between the base of your slave's massive belly, the floor, and the doorway. It's a tight squeeze, and you take longer than you need to in order to enjoy the sound of your slave groaning as you rub up against $his sweaty, buttered up belly, but you eventually make it through. Taking generous handfuls of butter, you slick up the front half of your slave's stomach, starting at the flattened nub of $his pressure-obliterated belly button and slowly working your way up to the round oval of baby-packed flesh being constricted by the doorway.
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With your slave's body dripping with the thick moisturizer, you call out to $him to start pulling $his belly through the doorway, pushing your body up against $his stomach to help push. You didn't bother to strip your clothes while buttering $his gravid figure and, as you crush up against $him and heave, again and again, against the sheer mass of $his abdomen, you can't help but get aroused by the way your greasy clothes rub between your body and $hers with each motion. At first, $his belly is so firmly lodged that it doesn't move, but momentum eventually builds up and, with an audible "pop," the poor baby-laden breeder finally breaks free from $his containment, falling onto $his back and pulling you with $him into an absurd, buttery mass of flailing limbs and giggles. You take some time to flip $him into a position where $he won't be crushed by the weight of $his own womb, and then take some more time to enjoy the fruits of your labors.
