My Brother is a Cub Lover

--A society in which wolves are not welcome, and wolves are born with uncontrollable cub-loving instincts...

My big brother also doubles as my babysitter at times, and his name is Curt. When I try to greet him, he usually responds with an unenthusiastic 'hello' and his eyes are glued on his phone screen, fingers typing to some girl from high school, no doubt.
But I knew better. The girls he was talking to were probably barely girls at all, not even growing their breasts out. They must’ve been the freshmen of the school. 
When I eavesdropped on a conversation between my father and brother one night, I could hear them say:
“So… you’ve taken a liking to the young girls, son,” my father said while the sound of a crotch unzipping echoed in the room.
“Tell me about them.”
Ever since that night, I couldn’t get the sound of cock-beating and loud panting out of my head, mixed in with the jumbled, heated words of my brother explaining to my father how much he likes little cubs and his father joining him in a thunderous orgasm.
“I fucking love them too, son!”
He must’ve cum so hard that night. Perving out with his dad. 
But when he left the living room, my brother’s face looked torn, like he wondered what he just did.
My dad’s hand rested on his shoulder.
“Do not worry son. Our secret. And remember, you must find a release for these urges.”
“O-Okay dad…” my brother fumbled with his fingers. I had never seen him so nervous before.

Looking back on it now, every aspect of Curt was like he was made to be the perfect molester. He was 18, firmly built, single, in the prime of his life with no end of hormonal activities… I was always eight years behind him in age. In other words, the perfect catalyst for his cubophila to run rampant. I'm small, young and innocent-looking by comparison. The perfect mate for him. I bet he sees my body as nothing but a fleshlight yet he still goes through the usual motions of: “Hi bro, how are you doing?” and “How’s school going?” knowing full well that the only girlfriend he needs is his little brother. 
When Curt loitered around me, I could notice a big bulge in his pants. He always bent down so that he could try and hide it when he talked to me, but at full height, I only reached his crotch. I bet that size difference always made his pervy mind go apeshit.
(“He must be the perfect thing to fuck…”)
(“Look at that, I can just rough my little brother up and down on my cock without anyone noticing… I could even stuff him in my bag and use him as a cumdump throughout the day!”)

Add to that, he was a rude little fuck who only cared about himself and how he's feeling, and you've got yourself the makings of a teenage cub-molester who wouldn't mind having a boy bounce up and down on his lap, but would much rather take it a step further and dick the kid down then and there, uncaring to his screams and cries.
Well, he didn't go that far, but I knew a part of him really wanted him too. Like he was just itching to let loose that inner demon and become a cub loving god.

It was then I learned that every man has a cub-loving lust inside of them. Like how some fathers would let their curious boys grope them for a bit (while checking to see if the wife was watching) when daddy was giving a demonstration about the 'birds and the bees', or dads that hump against their boy's underage ass in the bed as they sleep with them, and dads that opt for a fun father/son bonding day where daddy teaches his son about how fucking massive and hairy his cock is, the boy playing with it between his father's thick thighs, making daddy's pervy mind go apeshit in the process, until he groans and explodes a messy load all over his son's smooth stomach.

Incest. Cubophila. 
The words make wolves' and fathers' cocks throb, like it's a shared male interest.
It's sickening to most, but the wolves are unable to stop themselves from becoming aroused to it, eventually learning it is far easier to live life by not caring about what your sexual thoughts are and just... Doing it. Fucking them cubs. But such tales never end well in this society.
But the idea of all cub lovers being evil isn't entirely true, as every man learns to question himself, and that sanity is what separates them from the mindless cub rapers locked in prison… Oh, and if the policeman who caught them raping a cub was a wolf, well let's just say that those charges would be dropped because the wolf would unzip his pants and join in on a double penetration.

Men are perverts at heart. To adults and teen boys, I suppose it's a matter of how far they wish to take it. At least those are my thoughts… the thought of a ten year old cub who can barely tell head from tail, but could create a whole essay on the instinct of men and cubophila if I put my mind to it. This is thanks in part to my wonderful… Brother. To call him a brother is somewhat strange nowadays as I see him as a raging cubophile. He is my 'patient', then… Ah, who am I kidding, I'm just a fleshlight after all. I can only imagine the joy my father had once he learned that he would be getting a younger, second son. I bet he blew many sticky loads in his room that night. I bet my older brother, five years old at the time, could at least see the thick bulge in his father's pants once the nurse announced:
"You've got another boy!"
So, I've been treated well by my family, because I'm regarded as a blessing; an offering for my older brother. But clearly not treated well enough that they could afford to shell out for a babysitter.
"Why do you have to do it? It's weird!" I exclaimed to my brother, pouting and turning my head to the side.
Curt looked stumped and scratched his head.
"Ah, oh well, that's just life I guess…" he replied half-heartedly. 
My dad was probably in on that plan. I guess he thought that it's time for Curt to grow into a man.

Back on the topic of cub lust, if we were to continue further down the spectrum, some men would be bold enough to whip it out in the park and have a kid suckle on their tip without fear of the repercussions and expecting other cubs to join instead, only to get caught by the police (who are bulging in their pants and give him a slap on the wrist). That type of forgiveness is only applied between fellow wolves though, as I previously mentioned.
On the deep end of the spectrum, those 'scary men' you hear about, who only care about causing as much pain and suffering as possible to the cub so they can feel like a god are likely a topic of taboo for wolves.
A taboo within a taboo… Yes, even for them, cub killers are something they would rather not talk about. 

Curt is on the middle part of that spectrum.

As a kid, I always knew that he didn't want to look after me and that he was only in it for the extra cash and it made me feel kind of sad. This was exacerbated by the fact that he was my brother, so he should feel some sense of responsibility towards me. But he didn't. He just molested me, like a predator. A beast, hungering for his prey.

When I think about it now, I should've seen it coming.
Me and my brother shared a bunk bed during our earlier years, and I could hear him furiously masturbating every night.
Even at 15, his libido would put a sexually-repressed 18 year old to shame. That is because wolves have a secret. They all have a natural attraction to cubs.
As if their predatory instincts and amplified libido weren't enough, I guess God just one day decided that adding 'shameless cubophile' to the mix would be a good idea to make the wolves further removed from society.
As of now, us wolves struggle to co-exist with the modern world. Every day on the news, I hear countless stories about wolf predators killing and raping cubs so I thought that, in the best interest of my brother, it is better if he uses me as a cure for his instincts, rather than some helpless, scared cub he's never met.
Sure, society would say that you should never fuck a cub anyway, and I suppose that's why he waited until 18 years of age to even touch me inappropriately, seriously, I expected him to be juicing me up and down on his massive cubophile cock at 15 by the sound of his masturbation sessions. He truly was an untamed beast, lost in his lust for little ones.

Even then I thought that, if my brother doesn’t rape me now, he’ll remain in prison for the rest of his life for killing and raping a nameless cub. A hard truth I must’ve come to terms with at that age. No harder than the dicks that would be ramming into my virgin tight insides three years later though, as my sexual activities with my brother only spurred on my lust for older, manlier men. Before I knew it, I had the amount of pocket money my friends would dream of. Unknown to them, being a cub prostitute pays. 

When I fufilled my role for my big brother, and let him feel me, I cannot help but fear for the wolves who have no younger siblings to grow up with, and I imagine they're mostly fucking the boys and/or girls several grades below them to sate that hunger.

--On that day…

I remember that day clearly. It was etched into my brain, not unlike how my brother's lust for cubs is etched into his instincts. 
I was ten and he was eighteen and, by all accounts, many would associate our bond as an 'abusive relationship', in which big brother lusts for his all-too-young little brother. 
But for me, I knew that, at the bottom of my heart, I had to do this. 
I had to let my brother's big hands travel underneath my pants and grope at my soft body when I sat with him watching that movie that night. 
Perhaps it was because we were alone together for the first time in our lives. No pesky parents to distract us, our fur illuminated by the dim moonlight, it was almost poetic, in that sense. How, at moonlight, he couldn't keep his desires for cubs at bay, and I imagine that's why he masturbated himself to sleep every night. Or perhaps my dear brother had grown tired of hiding his true self and just… wanted to unlock the inner demon. Because, isn't everyone tired of being nice sometimes? Isn't everyone tired of putting up a facade? 
One he let his desires run free, my respect for him grew. 
I could tell he was battling with himself in his head before he touched and groped me. His look of worry and sadness, yet unable to stop those hands from gliding around my body, getting a feel for how young and soft my fur was - gauging the quality of his prey, no doubt.

Many would say that I'm mature for my age, or that I think in a way many boys my age wouldn't. I only believe that I am simply a product of my environment. 
Perhaps it is because I cared for my brother so much that I never said anything to anyone else. In any case, I saw no reason to tell anybody about what happened that night. 

I must give my brother credit where credit is due. For that movie night, the first night during which he was babysitting me, he only groped me. Just that. I feel like I should consider myself lucky. But, you could also say that he's only wanting to savour his meal before he fornicates with it.
Whatever the case, once my brother touched me, it only acted as a catalyst for his further actions.

And I began to look forward to each and every night I spent with him, just seeing what step he would take next time.
He would say nothing. He would let the screen go dark as the credits rolled, drop his phone on the couch as he got bored from sexting a freshman, and sit me back on his lap.
"Do you wanna play a game, brother?" He would ask, insidiously. I felt his cock bulge beneath my thick underaged cheeks. He had a big smirk on his way, and a dark glint in his eye that can only be described as demonic.
He touched my hips and let his hands roam up my body, hooking underneath my shirt.
"Let's go for a bouncy ride…" he said, having to hold back drool.
He always salivates everytime he touches me.
He thrusted his hips upwards and moaned. 
"Ummphhh…" His cock flexed harder underneath his sweatpants.
"Your ass is so fucking thick and soft. How old are you again?"
He always loved asking about my age. Knowing that I was underage turned him on so much more. It was like a drug to his cock.
"10," I replied sheepishly, looking downward with a blush on my face.
"Ten…" he returned in a dark, growling tone.
"Fucking ten years old…" he threw his head back and let his tongue loll out of his mouth as he humped me, using his hands to keep my hips steady.
There was no doubt he was enjoying humping against my young behind more than he would enjoy having sex with a girl his age.
He groaned and unzipped his pants, getting out his fat cock from his briefs, half-hard and slapping it in his hand, seeming to be nearing the 7 inch mark.
"Damn. Of course my brother is hung…"
"I feel so pent up all the time. Like I need a hole. But not just any old hole. I need a kid."
He said with a new sense of pride, once unable to look at his little brother's ass while he was getting changed, now straight up stroking his cock before him with no worries.
I guess he decided enough was enough and he wanted to break the air.
I looked at his cock with a slightly shocked and surprised expression, my throat drying, my hands getting clammy.
"It's so fucking big…"
I was so nervous.
"You like it?" My brother said in a forward tone.
Of course I did. Boys will clamour for that cock, if it means that they only get to touch it.
I nodded and squeaked out a whispering 'yes'.
Immediately I was surprised by my brother's hands travelling under my shirt again, taking stock of my body, then pulling me up so my ass is perfectly hot-dogged against his shaft while I look face to face at him.
Curt had a look of pure lust.
"Do you wanna play 'hide the stick'?"  He said with an almost maniac smile crossing his face. I don't think I had a choice, because he was already trying to fit his cock inside of my little hole, even though his girthy monster was bound to cause great pain to me, I think he didn't care. He only cared about the pleasure, like a true cubophile would. 
Still, all things considered (as well as the unusually detailed accounts of cub rape my father would watch on the TV), my brother was a gentle soul in comparison to those 'big bad men'. That's probably because he wanted to use me more than once, and not snuff me out the first time he sticks his dick inside of a cub, as hot as that would seem, it would certainly be hard to dispose of the evidence. And besides, he's been gearing up to this for so long. What wolf doesn't want a cub slave sitting in or between their legs at all times?
So, after lots of struggling and boyish moaning by me, and no small amount of heavy grunts and exasperated sighs from my increasingly impatient brother, I managed to fit all thick 8 inches of that wonderful cub-loving inside of my tiny 11 year old hole!
I was so proud that I turned to my brother immediately to express my delight, but it seems he was already on the phone to someone with a shit-eating grin on his face.

"Hell yeah dad! I'm balls deep in that little bitch!" He exclaimed.
Of course. Daddy wanted to know how it was going.
"Oh, you're going to the restroom? You want photos? Okay dad!"
No doubt daddy was gonna jerk off hard to this later.
He moved his phone out from his ear and pointed it towards me, looking as pleased as one cub could possible be as I was fully impaled on his fat cock. 
It looked almost too good to be true; me, a much smaller cub, impaled on my brother's fat oversized dick. Even my brother's thighs were thicker than parts of my body. I have so much growing to do.
"Hehe, dad said he's proud of you."
I blushed. No doubt dad's been itching for a chance to breed my young hole as well. He might've even planned this.
"I think… You little sluts have to obey us men."
I was only young at the time, but hearing such derogatory and patronising words coming from my brother back then made me more squeamish than he realised. I guess he expected me to cry when he called me 'a stupid little whore that he should've sold out with my dad when I was much younger', but just knowing that sent me into a dry orgasm.
Fact is, I love knowing that I'm a piece of shit. And my brother is the perfect, perverted top for that.