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Taylor's world had expanded in two ways. Daddy Joseph had untied him from his previous home in the laundry room, and he was now able to walk around the house freely, albeit with supervision on the part of either himself or the watchful eye of Daddy Alistair. (When one of your Daddies is a Psychic-type, there's always supervision.) It was obvious just from the exterior that these were two incredibly wealthy men, but Taylor was still caught off-guard by the sheer size of this place. There were multiple floors, god knows how many rooms, winding hallways, and more. Even if he wanted to escape, he'd need a compass and a map just to navigate his way out of the house. But Taylor's world expanded in another way, too, without him even realizing it. The enormous Lucario had taken over his life, trapping him and musking him and making him feed from his plump, lactating chest. In any other situation, he would have hated Daddy Joseph - feared Daddy Joseph. In some ways, he supposed he did fear him. But every time he saw that handsome face, that imposing frame, that heavy, musclegutted body...something happened inside him. His pulse quickened, his face flushed, his cock twitched. Slowly, more and more of his Daddy was infiltrating his mind, growing stronger with every sniff of that spicy, acrid body heat. He still slept in the laundry room, however; Daddy Joseph provided him a sleeping bag and a pillow, which would have been more restful and comforting if it weren't for the pillowcase. "Do you see this?" Daddy Joseph tugged at the white pillowcase, smiling gently. "It's fabric from my old undershirts. I thought it would be just the thing to soothe you." In time, maybe it would - but for now, every sniff got Taylor too worked up to go to sleep quickly. Not only that, but when he did fall asleep, his dreams were dominated by his Daddy as well: pleasant dreams nestled up into Daddy Joseph's armpit, or startling ones staring up at a massive, dripping, hairy blue ass before it swallowed him whole. With all of that going on inside its head, perhaps it was understandable that Taylor would embrace something soothing and constant: meal time. Every day, three times a day, at exactly the same time (9:30, 1:30, and 6:30), Daddy Joseph would come in with his shirt already unbuttoned, throwing a white cloth towel over his shoulder and setting the human on his knee. Taylor's diet was now limited to the milk he suckled from his Daddy's nipples, but oddly enough, he never felt more hungry than usual. Whatever hormones Daddy Joseph had going on, natural or otherwise, they clearly produced some filling, satisfying milk - and remarkably tasty, too, although Taylor had to get used to the texture, which was thick and rich and almost like melted ice cream. Sometimes Daddy Joseph would pay extra close attention to Taylor as he fed from his hairy mantit, murmuring gentle affirmations into the human's ear as he wetly suckled at that firm pink nipple. Other times, he would have to navigate his professional life as he cared for his boy, talking on the phone or writing an email while absentmindedly bouncing Taylor on his knee and letting him drink his fill. Taylor didn't mind so much when he did that, though - on one level because he wouldn't blush so much from the cooing and murmuring, but on another level because it felt nice to just quietly be a part of someone's life like this. He would listen to Daddy Joseph's heartbeat through his chest as he drank, hearing the rumble of his voice as he spoke in German on the phone, and wondered if he might have felt something like this in the womb. Meal time was relaxing, that was for sure. But what happened afterwards could get very exciting indeed... - "Where are we going, Daddy Joseph?" Taylor was following the Lucario up the basement steps, his stomach still full of milk from breakfast. Daddy Joseph glanced over his shoulder, smiling back at the human as he continued walking - which had the added benefit of jiggling his thick, heavy ass when Taylor's face was about level with it. "You're going to meet the reason why you don't just call me Daddy. Properly meet, that is." He didn't say it like it was something to be afraid of, but the thought of it made Taylor tense up all the same. He had seen Daddy Alistair before, but only as a silhouette through the underwear hood Daddy Joseph had secured over his head in the laundry room. He remembered the man's scent - brighter and spicier than Daddy Joseph's, with a lingering smokiness like a luxury cologne - but that was all he knew about him. Well, aside from the fact that, whenever Daddy Joseph had to leave the house for work, Daddy Alistair was watching him. Taylor could never see him, since the Delphox was usually in his home office or his study, but he was told that, thanks to the species' psychic powers, there would be an eye on him at all times. He didn't know if they were bluffing, and he didn't care to find out. "Does he like me?" Taylor found himself asking, without really thinking about it. Daddy Joseph looked over his shoulder, as though surprised he would even ask such a thing. "Of course he likes you. If he didn't like you, you wouldn't be here." A gentle tousling of Taylor's hair, and the Lucario opened the door from the stairway to the upstairs. The first thing Taylor noticed was the smell of coffee. His nose had grown much more sensitive ever since Daddy Joseph first stuffed him in his armpit, and there were times when he wondered if he'd ever reach a point where it was the primary way he'd interact with the world around him, like a dog or an anteater. But coffee was strong enough that he didn't need a hyperactive nose - and from the smell of it, this was strong stuff. But underneath the smell of coffee, he could smell him. The lingering tingle of smoke. Undertones of scotch, with just a hint of vanilla. And the kind of pure masculine musk that could hypnotize an entire men's locker room at the gym. Taylor walked towards the scent, without even realizing he was walking so quickly - and then, finally, saw him. Alistair MacCrimmon Carlisle IV looked like the sort of man Taylor would see in a portrait at a museum, staring imperiously at anyone who walked past. The Delphox was seated in an armchair, wearing neatly-creased slacks and a blue-and-white Polo shirt, a coffee mug with some coat of arms or another on it in his hand. And yet, even in such a casual setting, Taylor felt...smaller than him. As though he should apologize profusely for something and offer him a cigar. "Umm..." Fuck, Taylor had to say something, right? "Good morning, Daddy Alistair." The Delphox's expression stayed more or less the same. His red eyes, sharp and shrewd, flickered up and down Taylor's body, as though scanning him. "I want you to repeat something after me, lad." Daddy Alistair's voice was fine whisky, leather-bound books, and red flannel, with a Scottish brogue that sounded like it was whittled from oak. Taylor's knees started to shake, and the Delphox leaned in. "Madainn mhath." He pronounced it like "mah-thing-vah." Taylor dutifully repeated it, but Daddy Alistair shook his head. "No. Mah-thing-vah." It sounded exactly the same to Taylor's ears, but when he repeated it this time the Delphox seemed satisfied. "That's how you say 'good morning' in Scottish Gaelic, and how you'll say 'good morning' to me." A small smile, friendly in its own way. "I won't expect you to learn the language, but bits and pieces might be nice." With a grunt, Daddy Alistair lifted himself from his chair, letting Taylor get a good feel of the size difference between them. He wasn't quite as tall as Daddy Joseph - few people were - but the brawny, mature Delphox stood head and shoulders above the younger human. It was only appropriate that his two new daddies would make him feel this small, this weak in comparison. But Taylor only had so much time to think about that before Daddy Alistair turned around, and Daddy Joseph's soothing bass murmured in Taylor's ear. "Lower to your knees." Hearing the pulse of that voice would've made Taylor fall to his knees even without being told. But he did as Daddy Joseph asked anyway, grunting and looking up to find himself face to face with... ...Daddy Alistair's thick, beefy ass, wrapped up tight in slacks. It was only morning, but there was already a noticeable mark of sweat along the crack, and Taylor could see droplets of sweat along the tips of his fur and hair in the sliver of his body exposed just above the belt. "Lean in and sniff," came Daddy Joseph's next order. While Taylor had done something like that not too long before this, the way he phrased it made him flinch and blush. "But...I'm not a dog, Daddy Joseph?" The question mark at the end of the sentence made Taylor wince. Was he really at the point where he had to ask that? Daddy Joseph shook his head. "No, you're not. But you're our boy, aren't you?" The Lucario's heavy hand cupped the back of Taylor's head, and his voice grew a touch darker, a touch more forceful. "And do you know what our boys do, Taylor?" He leaned in closer, his lips almost brushing Taylor's earlobe. "They sniff our asses." The barest hint of a growl in his voice made Taylor gasp. "Now..." Daddy Joseph pushed on the back of Taylor's head, slowly and almost imperceptibly, but undeniably. "Sniff." And Taylor sniffed. He buried his nose right in the sweaty cloth of Daddy Alistair's trousers, and he took in a slow, savoring deep breath, eyes blinking and thoughtful as he considered the smell. Then, another sniff. This one lasted even longer, and dug even deeper between the Delphox's cheeks. He closed his eyes for it, and when he broke off he coughed. His nose was alight with sweat, musk, cloth, and Daddy Alistair's hairy asshole. He lowered his head for a moment, as though to gather his wits about him and prepare himself for whatever was about to happen. And that was when Taylor pushed his face forward with a whump against Daddy Alistair's cheeks, giving a series of loud, desperate, feverish sniffs and snorts and coughs and whines and moans. He obsessed over the smell like a bloodhound on a scent trail, wriggling his face just to get deeper, deeper, deeper into the source of that divine manstink. The mature, handsome Scot couldn't help but chuckle. "Couldn't even let me pull my trousers down, eh? That's alright." He was already undoing his belt, pulling it free from its loops. "It's a bit much to take bare-arse the first time around, anyway. Better to ease into it, I say." But considering that he was already in the process of pulling his slacks and underwear down, he wasn't keen on giving Taylor that much time to get acclimated. Not that Taylor minded, of course. The boy was in heaven right now, barely even seeming to notice when Daddy Alistair started pulling his clothes away. His eyes were shut, his nose was on fire, and he was giving loud, lewd pants and moans that he didn't even seem to realize he was making. It wasn't until he felt something dense and bristly tickle at his nose that he opened his eyes and found himself staring at...my god. Those thick, heavy, hairy cheeks, fur a deep shade of brick red, wiry body hair adding some flavor (both literal and figurative) to the experience. Spread slightly, Taylor could see rivulets of sweat trickling down the crack, and even a hint of the tight, fleshy, hair-ringed pucker between the cheeks. He thought he heard Daddy Joseph order him to sniff again, but this time he didn't need an order. SNNNNNNNRRRRKH. Taylor breathed in through his nose as hard as he could with his face pressed into that hairy crack, and he had to turn his head to the side to cough. Fuck, that was strong. Even warming himself up by sniffing Daddy Alistair's hole through his slacks didn't do much to prepare him. The Delphox's asshole was a different beast from Daddy Joseph's: sharper, more pungent, less earthy and more spicy. It was like sticking your nose in a jar of mustard and inhaling as hard as you could. Even though Taylor's cock hardened to full mast within an instant, he still needed to take a minute to recover, breathing in and out through his mouth to keep from feeling faint. Daddy Alistair, however, wasn't always the patient type. "Get your nose back in there," he ordered, his voice brooking no disobedience. Of course, Taylor could only move so quickly after something so overwhelming, and the Delphox sighed, irritated. "I said..." He brought his hand back, gripping at the back of Taylor's head and pushing him forward. "Get in there." Daddy Joseph, watching from the sidelines, crossed his arms and chuckled at the sight of their boy squirming and squealing between those ripe, hairy cheeks. He knew from watching his husband dominate other subs that Daddy Alistair's ass was by no means for beginners: even in a fairly neutral state, as it was now, it was enough to make an inexperienced boy's head swim. And when Daddy Alistair was in a mood like he was this morning, he got demanding. But if any novice ass-huffer could handle it, it would be someone like Taylor, who Daddy Joseph already knew had an instinctual drive buried deep within him. And sure enough, once Taylor settled down and accepted Daddy Alistair's heavy, fiery ass musk into his sinuses, he started to dig in deeper. As the Delphox peeled a cheek aside to give the human better access, Taylor wriggled his face to and fro, making sure his nose was planted firmly against that tight, wrinkled butthole, savoring every last bit of the manstink he could get. Although his mouth was watering by this point, he kept himself from sticking his tongue out, or kissing that asshole: he had specifically been ordered to sniff, not to lick or eat or worship. It took a great deal of discipline to restrain himself, and both of his Daddies were quite impressed - although Daddy Joseph was the only one to vocalize it. "That's a good boy," he murmured, settling onto one knee behind Taylor and gently rubbing his back as he worshiped Daddy Alistair's crack with his nose. "That's a very good boy. How does it smell, Taylor? Hmm? How does your Delphox Daddy's asshole smell?" Taylor was too high on ass fumes to answer with anything but the truth. He muttered out, woozily: "like sweat and shit." That earned great big happy belly laughs from his two Daddies, Daddy Joseph's low and booming like thunder, Daddy Alistair's hoarse and gruff. Hearing the two of them laugh at something he said was both deeply humiliating and deeply gratifying, and his ears were practically turning red from blushing. Taylor was half-expecting him to be ordered to eat it, to furiously lick and swirl his tongue all around Daddy Alistair's hairy pucker. But Daddy Joseph had other things in mind. "My turn, liebling," the Lucario said, gently patting Daddy Alistair's shoulder. The Delphox released Taylor's head, letting the boy get a few gasps of fresh air, before Daddy Joseph took the lead once again. He had already gotten himself ready for his boy's face, it seemed, seeing as he had undone his belt and pulled off his own trousers and underwear for what was to come. Daddy Alistair's ass was thick, but Daddy Joseph's was fat. Two massive, juicy, sweaty, hairy blue cheeks, each twice the size of Taylor's head, and so dense and heavy with muscle and fat that, for a normal person, it would be a workout just to peel them apart. (Not that Taylor was allowed to touch it without permission, of course.) But when they were peeled apart, what bountiful rewards were hidden between them: a sweaty crack, a tight puckered hole, a ring of savory hairs surrounding the rim. The smell was deeper, richer, and funkier than Daddy Alistair's, less hot and more earthy. If Daddy Alistair's ass could clear someone's sinuses, Daddy Joseph's could fog them right back up again: it was that heavy, potent, and lingering. The Lucario held the cheeks apart and looked over his shoulder, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. "Sniff," he ordered, and so Taylor sniffed. Taylor had only been Daddy Joseph's boy for a relatively short period of time, but it already felt like he'd remember the smell of that ass for the rest of his life. It wasn't the kind of thing you forgot, huffing and snorting and snuffling around against a big blue daddy's steamy shithole. Taylor could hear rumblings of support and validation from Daddy Joseph from his position muffled between those cheeks (at least, he seriously hoped that's what those rumblings were), and the thought that the big Lucario was encouraging him was enough to make him redouble his efforts. He wanted to eat his Daddy's ass so badly. He wanted to kiss that hole like a lover. He wanted to push his tongue inside and taste Daddy Joseph's colon. He wanted to go mindless between the Lucario's cheeks. But still, there was never an order to do anything but sniff. It was frustrating as hell, but Taylor wasn't about to risk pissing off a man who could probably pick him up off the ground with one hand. If sniffing was what Daddy wanted, sniffing was what he would get. And for a good five minutes, maybe more, sniffing was all he did. Taylor's mind fogged up like a car window on a cold winter's day. Every lungful of Daddy Joseph's colon made him fall deeper, deeper, deeper into submission, away from the person he once was, pulling him towards something better... ...and then, finally, Daddy Joseph pulled him free, smiling back at him. "We should be off to work now." Taylor blinked, confused. Was he going to be left alone in the house all day? Without any supervision, without any surveillance? The idea of that kind of freedom would have thrilled a normal person, but it seemed to make Taylor even more anxious. "You're taking Daddy Alistair with you?" Daddy Joseph just smiled a bit wider and shook his head. - Taylor woke up this morning without any expectation that he would leave the house. In all the time he had been held captive - was that the right word? It didn't feel like the right word - he had never been allowed to step foot out of the house. And yet, not only was he out of the house right now, he was in a car that was speeding away in the opposite direction of the house. It was the kind of sleek black car that moved so quickly it hardly even seemed to make any noise; it just whispered its way down the road, like one of those high-speed trains in Japan. There was plenty of room in the backseat with Daddy Joseph; there would have to be, considering how fucking massive the Lucario was. Although Taylor had seen him drive himself before when he was first following the younger human around, a chauffeur was driving him this time around: the ears suggested a canine of some sort, but other than that Taylor could only see a silhouette through the partition. It was just him, Daddy Joseph, and that mind-fucking masculine smell that had swallowed him whole. The Lucario didn't have Taylor pressed against anywhere particularly lewd or ripe. He was just idly cradling Taylor against his chest, absentmindedly letting him nurse on one of his swollen pink nipples as he caught up on emails and phone alerts. But with his shirt and suit jacket unbuttoned, Taylor could still get plenty of hints at the underarm contained deeper within Daddy Joseph's clothes. And even (mostly) fully clothed, as he was now...it was a powerful, head-swimming scent, and Taylor tried to savor it as much as he could. "The daily commute is forty-seven minutes on average," Daddy Joseph explained to his boy - being the typically precise German that he was, he used an exact number instead of rounding. "That will give you plenty of time to get acquainted with my body every morning, don't you think?" He gently ran his hand up and down Taylor's back. "Of course, sometimes I might run slightly late - it's rare, but it happens. I'll have to feed you during the car ride, then." He wasn't telling Taylor anything he didn't know, but it felt nice just to hear the big man's voice vibrate through the car. Taylor focused on that nipple in front of him. He wasn't looking for milk - he wasn't particularly hungry right now, anyway - but he wanted to stimulate Daddy Joseph any way he could, and the Lucario flatly refused to let him suck his cock just yet. But he was satisfied with that nipple all the same, flicking his tongue around the areola and giving the lightest and gentlest of nibbles. The low, satisfying groans he was drawing from Daddy Joseph were almost as satisfying as his milk. Taylor was so focused on teasing that nipple, he almost didn't notice that the car had stopped moving. He only found out when Daddy Joseph looked out the tinted window, heaved a sigh, and muttered what was presumably a German curse word before rubbing the back of Taylor's head. "Traffic," he murmured. "We'll run about eleven minutes late, I suspect. But would you like to know something interesting, boy?" "Mmm?" Taylor looked up at his Daddy, still keeping his mouth around that nipple. "For the first time, I'm glad I'm running late." He ran his fingers through Taylor's short hair and smiled, and Taylor's heart leapt despite itself. "Thank you, Daddy..." The human could feel the blush spreading across his face, and responded the only way he knew how. Daddy Joseph just laughed, smiling to himself, as the human pressed his face squarely into the Lucario's chest: right in his "cleavage," as it were. Plump, beefy pecs, thick and jiggly enough that they could, with only a modest amount of exaggeration, be called "tits," and yet no less manly than the rest of the great big blue mountain they belonged to. "No need to be shy, boy. Just means I get more time to spend any way I please..." Daddy Joseph's hand pressed on the back of Taylor's head again, this time holding him not against a nipple but right in between his mantits. The musk wasn't as strong as it was beneath his pits or between his cheeks, but Daddy Joseph's smell would be powerful anywhere. Between his tits, it was almost...soothing. Like the smell of home, or fresh cotton. Taylor kept breathing in and out, letting his mind get softer and softer. Drool started leaking from the corners of his mouth, running down his chin and slightly matting the fur between Joseph's pecs. Taylor lazily smeared his cheek against the damp spot, as though reminding himself of just what power such a tender, intimate spot held over him. The car started moving again, but Taylor didn't notice. - Taylor didn't know exactly what Daddy Joseph did for work. He didn't really need to - after all, did you know the ins and outs of your father's job when you were growing up? But in broad strokes, Taylor knew he was in charge of a company called Panopticon, which had something to do with surveillance technology and made the Lucario very, very wealthy indeed. And apparently, Daddy Joseph was in the position where he could take his boy to work. As recently as a year ago, Taylor wouldn't have imagined he'd be anywhere near a building like this, not even to install an AC unit or something. A great big glass skyscraper with a strange, minimalist logo on top, it was the kind of place that seemed like it belonged to supervillains in spy movies. But Daddy Joseph wasn't a supervillain, at least as far as Taylor knew. He was just a big, handsome Lucario who took over his life and put him in his proper place with the power of his almighty masculine musk. See? Two completely different things. As Taylor sat in the corner of Daddy Joseph's office (bigger than his whole damn apartment before being taken in by his new Lucario father), he realized that this was the first time in a while his Daddy wasn't giving his boy his full attention. He wasn't ignoring him entirely, of course - he would glance over at Taylor every few minutes, making sure he was still enjoying the musty jockstrap he had given the human to entertain himself - but he was in a different environment from what Taylor was used to. This wasn't Daddy Joseph at home, being a fussy, playful, loving parent. This was Daddy Joseph at work, earning the startling amount of money he seemed to have kicking around. Taylor couldn't quite understand what it was Daddy Joseph did, not least because he was speaking in German half the time. Many of the individual words he said made sense - "shareholders," "microtech," "drone capabilities" - but it all blurred together into an opaque, dark-blue fog of Big Business Words. Taylor didn't know if it was just going over his head, or if there was something in the Lucario's milk that made him feel so hazy, but in any case he felt bored and restless. When he was a handyman, his colleagues (he couldn't really think of them as "buddies") sometimes brought their kids along on a job if they had to drop them off somewhere else right afterwards. Before phones became super widespread, they just had to sit and wait, and the bored, fussy expressions on their faces flickered in Taylor's mind as he bounced in his seat. If he had his phone, it'd be easier, but Daddy Joseph was still holding onto it. Dammit... The jockstrap helped for a while. When he was getting too agitated, he would hold the damp, off-color pouch to his face like an oxygen mask, eyes rolling into the back of his head as he inhaled the rich, salty smell of Daddy Joseph's nutsack. Taylor was pretty sure that those people on whatever video call Daddy Joseph was on could hear him moaning faintly offscreen, but if they noticed no one seemed to say anything, and the huge Lucario certainly didn't seem to care. Occasionally, he would flash a small smile in Taylor's direction, and the human would flush with pride before giving the jock another heavy snort. For an hour or two, that was enough to occupy him. But soon enough, Taylor was really restless. If Daddy Joseph had given him one of Daddy Alistair's jocks to sniff, that might've been enough to keep him busy for another hour or so. Alas, no such luck. Maybe he could tie the jockstrap around his face and take a nap? No, he wasn't sleepy enough for that. The human glanced up at Daddy Joseph, too nervous and awed by the Lucario to do something so forward as to ask for something else to do. Eventually, however, restlessness won out. He had to do something. And as he stared at Daddy Joseph, who had finished his call and was now typing away at something on his computer, he had an idea of what he could do. Daddy Joseph wasn't looking Taylor's way when he heard the human's footsteps along the neatly carpeted floor of his office, and he didn't bother taking a glance. There was nothing to be afraid of with a boy like Taylor, after all, and he knew he wouldn't do anything untowards. Still, it was a surprise to see what happened next: the human climbed up onto the enormous Pokemon's lap, grunting a bit with exertion, and clung to his Daddy, nuzzling underneath his arm. He sniffed, eyes closed, as though his nose was magnetically attracted to the steamy, sticky hot spot of sweat and musk beneath the fabric of his suit jacket. Daddy Joseph's eyebrows raised. "I didn't even need to tell you what to do, did I?" he said, affectionately, lifting his arm a tad. "Can't say I'm in the mood to undo my shirt again, but if you're happy sniffing through my clothes..." The Lucario lowered his arm again, as though swallowing Taylor up in a headlock like that fateful day on the front steps. "Deeper." Taylor obeyed, in both meanings of the word. Not only did he take deeper sniffs, breathing in through his nose for eight, ten, twelve seconds at a time, he pushed his face in deeper to match. The fabric of Daddy Joseph's suit bunched up a bit as he adjusted his position, sinking a little deeper into the hollow beneath his arm, and Taylor followed the scent like a bloodhound. Happy, muffled snorts, Taylor's tongue idly lolling out and flicking along the sweat stain. At first, he cursed himself for not asking permission - but if Daddy Joseph noticed, he didn't seem to care. And so, with his mind-fucked, musk-drunk, utterly satisfied human boy tucked under his arm, Daddy Joseph continued his work. Huge hands clattered along his keyboard, composing emails and drafting statements, the Pokemon quietly focused on his task. But it felt good, hearing that noise right beside him: snnnrrrkh snf snf snf snf snf~ Taylor was squirming in his seat, and his shoes almost scuffed his desk, but Daddy Joseph only laughed a gentle little laugh. "Good boy."