For such a Little Puck, my infatuation with big bazongas has developed into quite a handful. When I browse porn to buy, it’s either “taboo” or “big tit sucking.” More often than not, if I’m cumming, it’s on top, with a mouth sloppily suctioned to my nipples. Boobs really do it for me. And the more I worked with more buxom models, the more I craved the bountiful, juicy weight of that indomitable curvature for myself.
It was no surprise when my ever-developing titty fantasies slyly nudged me towards considering the possibility of growing my very own pair. Feeling up the bimbo baddies of my dreams whenever I wanted? Sign me up!
I stared into the mirror, admiring them, scars and all.
Once I set the date to undergo breast augmentation surgery, the announcement was made with great fanfare. Not just two boobs were getting the operation, but now, four — I teamed up with Miss Velvet, and we were going under the knife together! We released custom-ordered GIFs of our neon outlines flashing, boobs swelling and dollar signs dropping from the sky; we also dropped a photo set of our bikini bodies barraged by humongous balloons, almond milk dripping from our mouths, spilling over our breasts, while playfully pinching the perky balloon nips. But, my fans were quiet.
This surprised me. My fans are into a lot, so their silence was discouraging. I thought they would love to bask in the glory of bigger boobage with me. I considered how my audience would respond to my work after it was over. Would they still support me?
I paused to consider the future, but the consideration was brief and the judgment easy. I’d wanted these sweater puppies for years. My body may play a big part in my appeal, but my personality’s role is bigger. By staying true to myself and investing in my dreams, surely, everything would fall into place. Besides, you shouldn’t do this for anyone but yourself; it’s a huge commitment only you can pull off. But things don’t always turn out as planned.
One late night on cam, I was really honest with my fans about my upcoming surgery and why it was so important to me. And, at last, they caught the big boob fever too. Finally, I felt like they had my back — and front! I prepared my wish list with everything that would make my life easier, and the Mighty Pucks went wild on my aftercare inventory. I prepped with Miss Velvet; we workshopped our futures, raised money together, tag-teamed our twins at doctor appointments and scoped out the possibilities we could plunder from our new treasure-breast-chests in the weeks ahead. But weeks, turned into months.
My first post-op appointment was a nightmare. Imagine my shock when the nurse unhooked my compression bra and revealed my new breasts sporting plum-colored, palm-sized blisters! “Surprise! You are now the proud owner of a new pair of chesticles!” How could this happen?
My doctor urged me to keep my chesticles from popping. They popped as soon as I got home. Deflated, just like my spirits. I tried to stay positive, but frequent and intensive bouts of probing the internet only buoyed my fears. Two days later, snip-snip and the blisters were off. But, the after-care had just begun.
As the weeks passed, friends, models and fans kept me feeling loved and cared for, reminded me to be patient and sternly admonished me to rest and heal. I reflected on how lucky I was to be able to afford this recovery time and rely on my support network. Recovery was hard work. Simple acts like bending, putting panties on, feeding myself, grabbing a glass from the cabinet and shampooing my hair weren’t simple. Carefully washing and bandaging my breasts took hours out of the day; every day and night I scrubbed in, preparing my bathroom like an operating room. It drained my spirit to see how they looked. Would there ever be an end? Would I ever heal?
Sometimes, you just need to hit restart. When forced to change up your routine, learning a little improvisation goes a long way. When I could find the energy, I’d throw myself into small fits of work on the back end. I dug up old photosets, sorted old snaps for future promo, tidied external hard drives, released compilations of archived material and read books on filmmaking and marketing. I offered exclusive, personal audios on my OnlyFans. I took my best-selling clips, cherry-picked the hottest moments and made GIF packs. My recovery was going into major overtime, so I had to improvise.
Before surgery, I had devised 30 elaborate clips that would feature before and after scenes of my boobs, with an in-vid transformation. The fire within me to get back to work and make these transformation fantasies come true pushed me to start preparing for a reveal. Surely, I’d be ready for minor filming in another two weeks, right? I had so much work waiting in the wings. I began expecting my body to be ready, but that was a mistake.
The incision under my right breast popped open. A month had passed since surgery, and yet my body refused to heal. I was ushered into the doctor’s office. With one look, he immediately called in three nurses. My team popped the chair back, re-opened my breast, took swabs and stitched me back together. As the doctor probed my insides, he took my mind off the pain with questions about sex work. I felt grateful for the chance to talk about what I do with a healthcare team who respects me and has been so kind and attentive in their care.
Results came back from the swabs: they had found bacteria and I was put on antibiotics. The next few days were more painful than the initial surgery. Two weeks later, the stitches were removed. But it didn’t take. Even more complications cropped up. I was so freaking over it. And yet, during the months of recovery, my breasts had dropped and fluffed beautifully. I stared into the mirror, admiring them, scars and all. Fuck it. Ready or not, center stage, here I come.
I put out the call: I offered intimate viewings of my breasts in for-your-eyes-only clips. I wore comfy clothes and kept the taped gauze under my breast, but my fans didn’t mind. Their response was overwhelming! And I’m still going: GIFs, mini big titty bouncing clips and redoing fan-favorite cosplays with my naughty knockers. I’m letting my body’s needs guide my creativity.
I still haven’t figured out the physics of my twins, but I’m working on it. There’s a lot I can work on. This setback has opened new avenues of possibility for me, stretched me creatively and I’m a stronger person for it. I’m working smarter, giving myself more breathing room, more time to study, more time to enjoy my life and more time to care for my body. If you’re considering major surgery, do your research, talk to friends and fans about what you need and be honest with yourself. Talk to others who have gotten surgery! Plan ahead, but no one knows what the future will bring, so brainstorm backup plans for the inevitable chaos. Your imagination is boundless, even when your body is met with limitations. Think outside the boobs.
Little Puck is an award-winning content creator and cosplayer who can be followed @littlepuck on Twitter, OnlyFans.com/littlepuck and @lilpuckerup on Instagram.
