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Daddy's Little Boy 2A: Chastity, Feeding, and Brotherly Bonding

It's dark. You're out of daddy's sight, and he is looking for you. You dare not make a sound because he is so close to discovering where you've run away to. You hear him ferociously searching for you as you curl up your body, bringing your knees as tightly as you can to your chest. The black onesie you are wearing, which matches your jet fur perfectly, is creating perfect camouflage while you hide under a table adorned with a long, flowing, black table cloth. Your tail is wrapped around your side, and your diapered rear is resting on the back of your stiff ankles. You tighten your muzzle's hold on the pacifier in your mouth as sweat gathers under the matching bonnet atop your head.

Your pulse quickens as you hear daddy's footsteps grow louder. Your head pressed firmly to the ground, you see his brown footpaws searching around the living room. His dominant presence causes you to shiver in a mix of fear and excitement when you see the feet in front of the table. Just then, your bladder empties itself, and you feel the warm sensation of the urine pouring into the diaper and making it swell up with your youthful, musky piss.

"I smell a freshly wet diaper," you hear the grizzly say in a deep, gruff tone. "I think my naughty cub is somewhere nearby."

As you blush from embarrassment, he flips up the table cloth. Your eyes widen upon seeing the brawny brown ursine, clad only in red and blue plaid pajama bottoms, looking down at you like a predatory bird looks down at its prey just before striking. Strong, swift paws pull you up into his arms, which cradle you in an in escapable hold. He raises his snout to the air and roars fiercely before diving face first into your stomach and playfully nomming on your tummy. Unwilling to drop your binky, you sound off a closed muzzled giggle in response to the tickling sensation.

It's been about a week since you came to live with this man, your therapist who you call Daddy. You have made slow but steady progress. Your daily routine consists of spending most of the day as a baby being taken care of by your adopted papa bear. At night, you spend three hours for your well-earned big kid time, and Daddy snaps you out of your hypnosis-induced speech restrictions. No less than one is spent for one-on-one therapy sessions. The rest of the time is for video games, phone calls home, or however you choose to spend them. During this time, you are also allowed to eat dinner with Daddy and be open about your feelings regarding your regression treatment. So far, you have no complaints.

Your nightly therapy sessions have helped you tremendously. You have learned quite a lot about yourself from the deep, meaningful talks you've had with this man. You have told him about how you have never seemed to build any relationships with anyone. He now also knows how you were abandoned at an orphanage when you were too young to remember your parents' faces. You have divulged how, through the years, every friend you ever made there was adopted while you were left behind, causing you to cut yourself off from the other kids as a defense mechanism against the pain of separation. Your parents have had you since they adopted you at age ten. However, the time you spend with them is limited because of their third-shift, six day a week jobs. You feel they love you, but lack of quality time has driven a wedge between you and them. You have been taking care of yourself at home and have disconnected from them. That's when your disrespect and acting out began. A few years later, here you are.

Outside of your therapy sessions and big kid time, you are in diapers and lovingly attended to by the ursine. He cleans you, changes you, feeds you, and spends time with you. Your willingness and cooperation has been rewarded, along with the big kid time, by sex every day. Daddy proves his love for you in every way he can, but you especially love it when he is balls deep in your ass and holding you close to his warm, muscly frame.

Daddy kisses you on the forehead as he walks to the bathroom with you. After putting your bottom down on the floor, he quickly turns and closes the door, snapping you out of your babyfur flight of fancy. He turns on the tub, and you quickly crawl to the door try to open it, but the pink mittens, which snugly restrain your digits, prevent you from getting a grip on the knob. You manage to turn yourself around to look up at him gazing down at you.

"Come now, kit. We talked about this." He says in a dominant yet gentle manner. "The water is nothing to be afraid of. There's no need to go through the trouble of washing you with a rag when we can have a nice, relaxing bath."

Ever since you were a kit, you've been afraid of water. You're not sure if it is your natural feline instincts or if something happened to you that you don't remember; however, you've never even had a bath or a shower in your life. Because of this, you've always washed yourself with a rag and lukewarm water.

When you shake your head in emphatic resistance, he narrows his gaze upon you, an act that sends automatic shivers down your spine. "Alright, I'll wash you with the rag again, but this is the last time. We've gone through this every day, and Daddy has had enough. I think a small punishment is in order. However, that will wait until after you're cleaned..."

As you frown around your pacifier at the sound of the word "punishment," he strips you of the onesie. Next, he takes of your bonnet and reveals the orange fuzz of your mane, which has begun to grow back. You drop the pacifier from your muzzle to say something, but he catches it and stuffs it back into your muzzle before staring at you with a grave look on his face. Your rounded ears flatten against your head from the shame of upsetting him.

He grabs a rag from the drawer and dips it in the shallow bath water and runs it over your face fur. His touch is gentle despite his obvious ire at your actions. Sensing your remorse, he kisses the side of your muzzle before wringing out the rag and resaturating it with water. He moves the rag down to your torso. When he accidently brushes against your nipple, you gasp into the binky.

"Looks like we found something else that my boy likes." He brings the rag to your other nipple, resulting in another wanting gasp from your muzzle. He chortles softly. "Well, this will be something to keep in mind when you're not about to be punished."

You pant slightly as his attention turns to your foot paws. After wringing out and refreshing the rag, he takes his time, washing in between your black, padded digits. Then, he slowly runs the rag up your tiny, skinny legs. He refreshes the rag and cleans your arms in like fashion. He then lays you on your back and unstraps your urine saturated diaper and washes your privates and undercarriage with the warm cloth. In response, you shiver in delight at his touch, and your tiny, red, adolescent boner quickly forms. Usually the bear would waste no time in teasing it and bring you to a pleading climax. However, he ignores it. Instead he looks you in the eye and says, "Only good little kits get their little weewees played with in my house." The remark causes you to blush from shame and embarrassment as you are only further turned on by his authoritative aura.

He discards the rag, slips his arms under your knees and back, and carries your naked blushing body to the upstairs nursery. He lays you on the diaper changing station after fishing a black diaper out of the drawer he effortlessly lifts your legs and slides it, opened, under you. After gently setting you down, he pulls a cold wipe out of the drawer and lays it on your now throbbing flesh pole. You whimper from the chilling sensation as your arousal retreats into its fleshy housing. He removes the wipe, allowing you to calm down.

Your ursine Daddy leaves your site and returns with something hidden between his paws. You feel him strap and tighten something around your young, sagging scrotum. You look up just in time to see him put something over your sheath. You move to protest, but your spirit is quickly snuffed out when you hear him say, "I just stopped giving you the muscle relaxer two days ago, kit," without even giving you eye contact. His threat clear, you lay back and breathe calmly, a technique he taught you in one of your therapy sessions.

After securing the device, he declares, "You may look now," prompting you to sit up. Your gaze narrows onto your belted, teenage privates. Secured by a leather strap around your balls, the cage like chastity device embraces your sheath. The vertical bars look just big enough to fit a tip of a digit through. A small, tight-fitting dome, which is held in place by a short tube leading to a hole at the top of the cylindrical cage, sits firmly atop your member's fleshy housing. You feel cold metal brushing up against your taint. Reangling your head slightly, you see that it is a tiny padlock, securing both bands of the leather strap together.

Adopting a stern tone, Daddy snaps you out of your entrancement with the device. "Twenty-four hours, kit, and not a second less. That is your punishment for your continued refusal to cooperate during bath time. As you can see, nothing can make contact with your little cock but that cage. Even your tiny rod will strain against something so confining, however, you can still pee through the tube. Count yourself lucky that I didn't decide to use the solid one. You wouldn't even be able to piss at all then."

As you process what he said, the brawny, brown, bear secures the straps of the ashen gray diaper. It's then you realize that the soft, snug undergarment has the words "Do Not Touch!" emblazoned upon it in demoralizing, red, graffiti style type. The site makes you frown around the binky in your muzzle and sniffle as tears well up in your eyes.

"Hold out your arms." Daddy's voice is now slightly less authoritative. You respond without resistance, and he secures two snug, black leather mittens to your paws. "Now, your feet." After you comply, two leather, restrictive booties are slipped and secured onto your hindpaws. Daddy then lifts you up and carries you to the teen-sized crib and lies you down.

As your sadness and remorse deepen, Daddy says, "Now, while you think about what you've done, I'm going to take a nice, warm, relaxing bath by myself. I'll be back in about half an hour."

With that, he leaves the room, leaving you to whimper and whine in your repentant loneliness. The thought of being without Daddy causes you to breakout into tears and cry loudly. Your blatant independence would normally never allow you to do such a thing. In fact, this is the first time you have openly and unabashedly cried since your cubhood days at the orphanage. In this moment, you wish to be better, to be more mature, and to be better able to handle your emotions. Time becomes lost to you as your mind continues to run on its high-speed race of processing emotions and memories. Before too long, you emotionally exhaust yourself, and you cry yourself into a deep slumber.

***

When you begin to stir, you feel a warm, firm sensation under your body. You slowly open your sleepy eyes to see Daddy's face leaning in to kiss you on the muzzle. You reach out and wrap your arms around his neck. He runs his paw in your headfur as the pulls away. "How did my little kit sleep?"

You smile and respond by saying, "Goo, Dada!" with a smile.

He chortles softly and says, "I'm glad to hear that. I'm also glad you're awake because now you can meet your sitter."

You feel him pass your tiny body to someone else's arms. You look up to the unknown person. You are met by the smiling face of a canine. His face is covered in black fur, except for a snow white bottom muzzle that that leads down to the yellow muscle shirt he is wearing and three spots arranged in a downward pointing triangle on his forehead. You notice that his arms are covered in dark blue feathers, which feel so soft and comforting against your exposed, diaper-clad body.

"Hey, lil dude," the amiable man says as your gaze meets his bark blue eyes. You become fixated on this stranger, until Daddy's voice breaks your attention.

"I'm going to run some errands and hit the gym. I'll be back in a couple of hours." Daddy, wearing blue denim shorts and a red t-shirt, picks up a black work out bag and kisses you once again, this time slipping his thick tongue into your tiny, unresisting muzzle. After breaking the kiss, he tells you, "Be good for your sitter." Then, the bear turns his head towards the sitter and says, "And you be a good boy too and take good care of your little brother." As you return your gaze back to the flustered hybrid's face, Daddy adds, "I'm sure you remember where all the baby stuff is. It's only been a few weeks since you used any of it," before letting out a deep laugh before walking out the door.

"I can't believe he just said that..." The older anthro's voice possesses an embarrassed tone while his face blushes an even deeper red. "Well, lil bro," he says, "what should we do to pass the time. Your stomach growls at that very moment, and he smiles.

Wasting no time, your sitter carries you into the kitchen and lifts you with ease, placing you in a padded highchair and securing the tray. He then turns around and opens the refrigerator door to find something suitable for you to eat.

You take the chance to look him over. He seems to be taller than you but still shorter than Daddy. Like the ursine, he is toned; however, the hybrid is nowhere near as muscly as the elder man. Like you, he is younger than the bear, yet he is clearly older than you. The dark blue fur on his back and chest peeking out from under his shirt proves that. As he bends down, you notice that his feathery legs are hugged by his tight workout shorts. The smooth curvature of his sculpted ass tells you that he is currently not in diapers, so Daddy's earlier comment as you a little perplexed.

"Here we go," he says as he erects his body and turns toward you. "Dad said that you're allowed big boy food now. So how does applesauce sound?"

In truth, your caretaker has fed you noting but milk outside of dinnertime. You are so excited about finally having real food during the day, you respond with a happy, "Yesh, Bwadah!" accompanied by an excited, childish nod.

The hybrid smiles and blushes slightly as he, caught off guard by the comment, freezes from the sweetness in your voice. In the next moment, he smiles and says, "'Bwadah'...You're so cute...I enjoy hearing that." He walks over to you and asks, "Can you say that again? 'Bro-ther.' Like that."

You let yourself become lost in the moment of brotherly bonding and say, "Bwa-Dah!"

He guffaws from your enthusiasm and opens a small container of applesauce. After discarding the foil lid in the trash, he pulls up a chair and sits in front of you. "Now, open your muzzle and say aaah."

You close your eyes and do as he says. He scoops up a big helping in a plastic spoon and brings it to your open maw. "Here comes the train! Choooo! Choooo!" He gently puts the utensil in your mouth, prompting you to close it. He pulls out the spoon from your closed lips. "There you go, lil bro. How does it taste?"

You don't know if it's the long denied pleasure of the mature food selection or the warm feeling from the hybrid, but you experience a comforting and satisfying sensation wash over your body as the applesauce slides down your throat. "Yummy, Bwadah. Yummy!" You smile gleefully.

That same sense of connection stays with you throughout the meal, during which you eat three small containers of applesauce. After you are finished with the third, you ask in a polite tone, "Mo pwease, Bwadah?"

He leans in to you and says, "Sorry, lil dude. Dad said you could only have so much. You can have milk from your bottle to fill you up, but that's it until dinner." When you produce a slight frown, he kisses your forehead and uses a feathered digit to wipe some applesauce from your muzzle. He then gets your bottle from the fridge, removes the tray, and picks you up, taking you to the living room.

He lays you on the couch and offers you the bottle. After you take it and begin suckling on it, he declares. "I'll be right back. I got to take a pill Dad prescribed for me. Be a good kit and wait right here. When I come back I'll cradle you just like Daddy does. Ok?" You nod in understanding, and he goes out of your sight.

In his absence, you relax, close your eyes, and just suckle on the bottle's nibble. As the cool milk cascades down your throat, you feel yourself being lifted into the air and lowered onto a firm, cushioning resting place. You open your eyes, and your new brother looks down upon you. You nestle into his soft, downy arms as he uses his taloned feet to work the television remote on the floor.

A few moments later, you empty the bottle of its contents and discard it to the floor. "Well, you're a quick sucker," your elder brother says with a soft giggle. "Dad did say you have an oral fixation, and it looks like you...AH!" His sudden, loud gasp causes you to flinch from surprise. The hybrid quickly uses a wing to give you calming rubs up and down your torso. "Sorry about that, lil bro. Dad told me to take these testosterone pills to help with my confidence, and seeing your enthusiastic muzzle on that bottle really..." he lets out a nervous laugh before saying,"...had an effect on me." A slight tent of pink overcomes his face, and he stands.

You feel him walk as he carries you up the stairs and past the ursine's room to the next door, which has always been closed but is now slightly ajar. He gently taps the door with his foot, causing it to open. You are now in a room with walls covered in posters of rock bands and sports stars. On one side are a closet, and a flat screen television suspended on the wall with video game systems on a shelf under it is on the other.

Before you can take in any more of your new surroundings, he lays you on the bed in the middle of the room. While lying on your back, you see him panting. Your eyes lock onto the impression of his cock straining between his body and his tight workout shorts. "I'm sorry, bro," he manages to say through the panting. "I can't wait to take care of this...and Dad told me not to leave you by yourself...After I take care of this, I promise...I'll let you watch whatever you want."

He pulls down his shorts and briefs, causing his rock solid, eight inch manhood to spring out. "Oh, FUCK! That's so much better!" As he takes a moment to ready himself, you scrutinize the hybrid's tool, for it's unlike any other that you have seen. Bright yellow in color, the organ stands out in stark contrast to the rest of his body. To your surprise, although it's not as long as Daddy's, it looks at least a little thicker. The sight of the ready flesh spear causes you to unconsciously lick your lips as you observe is fully matured sheath, which is covered in black fur and has a trail of dark blue feathers on its seam.

The veiny rod bobs on its own just before he grasps it in his strong, feathered hand. He begins to vigorously pump the wanting cock in an attempt to relieve himself of the hormonally induced pressure. He arches his back as he softly pants from a mix of pleasure and desperation. You notice sweat beginning to bead on his body as his manly, pheromonal scent begins to feel the room. After taking a moment to hurriedly pull off and thoughtlessly discard his muscle shirt, he returns his attention to his throbbing, chisel-headed schlong.

You feel your own arousal begin to strain against the dome of your punitive chastity device as you are further turned on by the deep, hungry growls of frustration sounding from his muzzle. He begins double fisting his wanting tool in hopes of achieving orgasmic release.

In a culmination of lustful hunger and need, he falls to his knees and screams, " MOTHERFUCKINGGODDAMNSONOFABITCH!" His voice echoes in the room and startles you. He continues speaking in a softer voice, strained and separated by quick, shallow panting. "Jacking off...isn't...enough...anymore."

Your heart is racing from the heat and musk that seems to feel the room. Something within you is beginning to stir. You feel that you want to act and help your new brother. You momentarily forget your own frustration and denial and focus your attention on his.

"Bwadah...," you say almost sheepishly, causing him to turn his head in your direction. "Wan halp?"

He looks at you in disbelief for a moment before his lustful need for orgasmic discharge drives him to crawl up onto the bed and straddle your head. Taking his sun colored cock in his wing, he runs it over your muzzle. In response, you take the head into your ready muzzle and begin suckling on his baby maker.

"Oh, ye~ah!" he exclaims in a whisper of satisfaction. He leans in and wraps his arms around your legs, and he teasingly traces his tongue along your fur just outside of the diaper. He lowers his pelvis, causing his thick member to slide deeper into your muzzle. You begin to gag and he stops for a brief moment before rapidly bucking in and out of your mouth. As soft, short gagging noises come from you, the smell of his manly, musky, scrotum fills your snout. You instinctively murr from the submissiveness of your position and the pungent odor of his sweaty, unwashed feathery taint.

He begins to go deeper into your willing throat with every thrust. Soon, you're swallowing reflex takes over, and he plants his flesh staff base deep into you. He growls lustfully as he sits up and plants his full weight onto your face. His stink of maleness grows more intense with every second, causing you to moan louder and louder into his cock and balls. Your submissive, wanting moans vibrate his cock, causing him to pant heavily and growl deeper. "OH FUCK, HERE IT IS!" he screams in dominant ecstasy and satisfied lust just before his cock spasms in your tight throat. Although you cannot taste his load, you keep sucking as hard as you can.

Just as he falls forward and grabs your legs to steady himself, you feel the pee draining from your own caged and neglected kithood. As the warmth of the urination rushes over your expanding diaper, he begins to pump his dick in and out of your muzzle and growls wantonly. "I smell a piss soaked diaper, lil bro, and it makes me need to bust another nut." You murr and gag even more from his unexpected, surprising recovery. Even Daddy only seeded you once every time you had intercourse. Your thoughts turn to Daddy and how he would do just as big Brother is, taking you for everything you are worth.

The hybrid pulls out of your mouth, causing your tongue to follow as you wine from the loss of something in your mouth. He stands on the floor, and his schlong is now inches above your head. The starts jacking his yellow tool and positions the tip at your muzzle. As he begins to pant, he asks you, "What...do all...little gentlemen say...lil bro?"

Immediately, you purr out a needy, "Pwease, Bwadah! Pwease!"

Your words pushing him closer to orgasm, he grunts out, "Please...what?"

You know what you desperately want to say, but Daddy's hypnosis will not let you say the words. You do not want to disappoint Big Brother or lose the chance to taste his seed, and you blush a deep read and blurt out the only words your limited vocabulary will allow. "I hab Bwadah milk, pwease?!"

Without a word, he forces the tip of his yellow doggy dick into your muzzle and continues pumping it with his wing. When you begin to suckle and tongue the current object of your oral fixation, he trembles and shouts, "Here it comes!" He plants his wings on the mattress either side of your head as his cock fires a second load into your mouth.

You triple your efforts when you taste the warm, thick, salty jizz, causing the hybrid's body to jerk from his staff's increased sensitivity. With every shot of seed bursting forth from his spasming tool, you begin to calm more and more, despite the discomfort of your chastised teen rod. He begins to come down from his climax, and you continue working your tongue and lips on the smooth, chiseled tip.

After recovering, he moves from his position over you and pulls out of your mouth just before crawling into the spot beside you. You in turn onto your side to face him, and he wraps his arms around your tiny frame while you reciprocate the action. Your own sexual frustration and denial quickly catch up with you, causing you to cling tightly to him as the hunger that has arisen begins making you pleadingly, wantonly whimper in need. Hearing your sounds of distress, he places your head at his bare, furry chest and runs his wing over your back as the other cradles your head.

"Shhhhh, shhhhh," Brother's gentle, quiet voice cuts through the air of anxiety and resounds through your ears. "It's ok, lil bro. Dad may seem mean, but he's really just a walking teddy bear. I'm sure you've learned that already." The hybrid leans in and kisses your forehead tenderly. "He's also a man of his word. If he said twenty-four hours, then he means twenty-four hours." Brother's reassuring words calm you down, and his loving nestling of your small body into his big, broad chest causes you to get lost in its safe, comforting softness. The heat from his body causes your freshly soaked diaper to feel warmer, giving you another strange yet wonderful feeling of security and love.

Your eyes begin to get heavy as you notice the elder male let go and pull away from you. You reach out for him with a soft whine. "It's ok," he says as he leans into you and touches your foreheads together before nuzzling you and saying, "Big Bro is just going to get something to help you sleep." He goes to a nearby chest of drawers and takes out a red t-shirt. After returning to your side, he gently helps you sit up. Big Brother then puts the shirt on your smaller body. The garment hangs off of your shoulder and extends to just below your knees. He then grabs an attachable black binky off the nightstand and clips it to the shirt. After gently guiding you to a pillow at the head of his bed and laying you down, Big Brother pulls your tiny being back into his big, broad, brawny chest.

"There," he says before he kisses the side of your muzzle. "Now you relax and have a nice long nap. The sedatives Dad put in the milk should have you out for a while. I'll change you while you sleep, and, after you wake up, I'll tell you a story. How does that sound?"

You smile and nestle into his into the bigger male as he resumes his cradling and rubbing of your back. Quite, seductive hums sound off from his muzzle and gently flow into your waiting ears. The ambience of the whole experience allows you to forget your forced chastity and slip into a deep slumber. The last things you know is the hybrid saying, "And I'll need by pacifier back after you're done with it."

[For anyone interested, I'm taking reader ideas for sequels to this story. See this journal for details: https://www.sofurry.com/view/841385]