[center][b]Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. All characters depicted are fictitious and not related to nor inspired by actual persons. I do not condone child exploitation in real life.[/b]

To comply with inkbunny's content policy, the characters featured in this story are anthropomorphic foxes.

If you enjoyed, please leave a comment! Thank you for reading!

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The sun had risen, and I awoke to find myself splayed out on the couch still. The TV was playing early morning infomercials as I stretched and rubbed the sleep from my eyes. I took my time waking up, and shuffled drowsily to the kitchen for a cup of coffee while checking my phone. A calm energy filled the room, and I sat in relative silence sipping on my coffee while absentmindedly staring at the commercial on the TV.

All the while, my mind fixated on Gregory. With each sip of my coffee I envisioned him, tied to the bed waiting for me to use him again. My tongue would have to forgive me for drinking so fast, but I didn't want to keep him waiting for too long. I quaffed the rest of my brew and rinsed out my empty cup, then descended to the basement.

Immediately, the smell hit me. My little boy had pissed the bed. Not completely unexpected given his circumstances, but it would take a bit of cleanup to get things back in order. 

His muffled whimpers and sobs at my approach had me excited already. I sat beside him on the bed, being careful to not touch the wet spot under him, and looked him in the eyes. They were puffy and bloodshot from a night of struggling and crying. His expression was no longer despaired, but exhausted and delirious. His hair was a mess, he smelled like a cumdump, and his underwear was ruined with what was likely multiple instances of pissing himself throughout the night. The cool basement air rushing against his damp skin as I removed the blanket must have brought him back to reality a little, since he shivered and looked at me as if to say that he was cold.

"Good morning, little buddy." Warmly I greeted him while removing his sock gag. His mouth must have been terribly dry, as his first instinct was to lick his lips and move his tongue around his mouth.

"Daddy. Why?... I didn't do anything... Let me go..." He begged in vain, not understanding my reasons for doing any of this.

I shushed him and rubbed his cheek. "Gregory, no. You're not being punished."

He searched for an explanation. He seemed to want to speak up, but he couldn't find any words.

"It's not a punishment." I repeated for emphasis. "I'm just finally treating you like you've always deserved to be treated. You're gonna keep being a good boy for me, right?" I asked him mostly hypothetically, but hoped for a favorable response and not outright rejection.

He just kept staring, mouth agape, perhaps in shock. He didn't know what I wanted really, and his thoughts must have been racing to find any way out. But in the end, all he could do was freeze in bewilderment.

Favorable enough for me. But before anything else, I had to deal with his bodily functions. I couldn't keep dealing with wet bedding and clothes every single morning. The solution was oh so simple, and oh so perfect for emphasizing Gregory's dependence on me.

Diapers. 

It was a little expensive at the end of the day, but it would serve to keep things relatively dry. Before I left to buy some, however, I needed to deal with the problem in front of me. I took the blanket off of the bed and laid it in a pile on the floor, followed by the cumsock. The sheets under him were also easy enough to remove without much trouble, but the hard part was his cold wet clothes.

Rather than untie him, I opted instead to take a pair of scissors and cut his underwear off. He whined and tensed up at the touch of the blades as they glided across his hips, worried that somehow I was going to slip and cut him. I did all I could to assuage his fears as I proceeded. His trembling, soft body brushed against my hands as I worked, and sent chills through my body.

"It'll be best to get rid of them", I explained about his underwear. "They're ruined anyway". His shirt was next, too, as he had plenty of others to replace it. That would be if I ever let him wear a shirt around me again. He started his blubbering again as I ran the scissors up the very middle of his shirt from bottom to collar, but it was over quickly enough to not cause too much fuss.

Once he was naked in his socks, shivering on the bare mattress, I lingered to admire his kiddie cock. Outside of bathing times and occasionally while he was changing, I seldom was treated by the sight of it. It was circumcised like my own, and fairly large for a boy his age. The girth wasn't too much, and the tip was a pale healthy pink color. My own penis grew in excitement at the sight.

But before any more fun could be had, I dutifully collected the laundry and made my way to the washing machine. After setting the dial and starting the cycle I headed to my own room to get ready for the day.

I dressed myself efficiently and decided to check my appearance before leaving. Looking at myself in the floor-length mirror, a child abuser stared back at me. I knew what I had done and what I was capable of now. My own son was tied up in my basement, naked, and I was about to keep him there for who knows how long. I would have to keep my cool and not get too paranoid while in public, I thought. As long as I didn't act weird I'd be fine.

Just as planned, the shopping trip was uneventful. As I perused the baby aisles, I reminisced about Gregory's younger days. He was potty trained late, and he used his pacifier until he was five years old. Gregory was diagnosed as autistic shortly before starting school, and his classmates always treated him poorly for it. That and his small stature. 

I always coddled him. Sheltered him. Loved him. His mother... My wife, not so much. She reprimanded him for acting out, and hated the idea that any child of hers could be imperfect in any way. In her mind, she always did the right thing for Gregory. That she was preparing him for the "real world". It was all nonsense.

The passing of another shopper brought me back to the present. I needed to stop lingering in this department, or I'd start getting strange looks from people. Placing the largest box in my cart, along with powder and lotion and other amenities, I made my way to checkout. I had chosen the thickest, most absorbent type available; meaning that I would only need to change them once or twice per day. Gregory wouldn't be pleased.

Arriving home, I immediately descended to the basement to find my boy asleep. My absence must have given him enough peace of mind to finally relax.

Rather than wake him, I silently opened the box of diapers and retreived the first of many. The soft cloth-like material in my hands crinkled in anticipation as I glided toward the slumbering child. Ever the heavy sleeper, Gregory didn't stir one bit as I slid the diaper under him and taped it up. It was honestly an adorable sight to behold. My little boy was a like a baby again.

A short time later, I was relaxing in the living room when I heard a cry from the basement. He must have woken up and seen his new "underwear". A look of utter and pure embarrassment was writ upon his face as I approached him.

"Daddy... I'm not a baby..."

"I know, I know." I sweetly hushed him. "You're not a baby. But you are going to wear these diapers from now on. You should be thankful that you won't wake up in a little puddle again."

His eyes got even bigger.

"No!" He cried. "Daddy! Please, let me go!"

I smiled tenderly at him as he pleaded. "Hush now, kiddo. You don't want me to have to put that yucky sock in your mouth again, do you?"

He froze in fear. He knew at least that he didn't want that to happen again. Sputtering and attempting to keep quiet, he resigned himself to wearing the diapers for the time.

By then my cock was solid. I was dominating him and there was absolutely nothing he could do to stop me. "Good boy." I praised him again as I removed my pants and underwear to reveal my throbbing member to him. He groaned and his eyes darted around in response, sensing that he was about to be violated again.

He knew better than to shout or scream by now, so all he could muster in response were weak little pleas. "no... pl-ease... nguhhh... not again..."

My eyes rolled back in bliss as I took in his pitiful begging. Such sweet pathetic moans and whimpers. He was so adorable and helpless. So vulnerable and defenseless. I gripped his chin firmly, and forced his head down. His body naturally adjusted itself as I guided him towards my cock.

"Nnghhh..." He groaned at the sight of my manhood approaching his quivering maw. His eyes were wide with disbelief as I lined up with his lips, which parted slightly in anticipation. I pushed forward slowly, sliding my cock into his mouth just to get a feel for how deep I could go without him gagging. Not far, it seemed.

The slight stimulation of my cock head rubbing back and forth against his tongue was already driving me to the brink of orgasm. Seeing his tearful eyes looking up at me, beging for it to stop, my breathing wavered and I had to force myself to slow my pace. I was tempted to speed up and end this quick, but I wanted to prolong it. I wanted him to suffer a little longer.

"Easy, kiddo." I warned him as he coughed and gagged around my length. "Just breathe through your nose and it'll be easier."

There was a brief pause as he tried to take a shaky breath. I really just wanted to get him used to having my cock in his mouth, so I didn't force it down far enough to make him gag. Just enough to get a taste of it. Gently, back and forth some more.

"Mmmppphh..." He whimpered as he finally regained control over his breathing. It was clear he was frustrated, but there was nothing he could do about it.

I reached toward his diapered crotch and gave it a good firm squeeze to remind him that he was totally helpless. "This is just the beginning." I promised. "Soon you'll be begging for daddy's cock."

I continued thrusting into his mouth for a minute or two, before deciding to finish up for the evening. I grasped his jaw and held it in place as I increased my pace even more. He gagged hard at the sudden increase, but his eyes never left mine. I felt my balls tighten as they drew close to release, and I knew I wouldn't last much longer.

"Gregory... fuck... I love you... GREGORY!" I shouted as I blew my load in his mouth. Holding his mouth tight around my erupting cock, I forced him to swallow down every last drop of my seed. He could barely handle the deluge, coughing and choking as the warm semen filled his tiny mouth. "Gregory... Eat it all up... Fill your chubby tummy with daddy's cum..."

Even after blasting his tonsils with my cum, I was still ridiculously horny. I pulled away from him after I was satisfied with his swallowing and looked at him once over. He shuddered at the sensation of the sticky liquid filling his gut, unable to form words to describe the sheer helplessness he felt. He just lay there with his mouth hanging open in shock of what had just happened. It was a completely alien experience, but soon he would be all too familiar with it.

Soon after he had settled down a little bit, I decided that it was time for him to have some food and water. He had been deprived of both for over a day now, and I figured he was probably starving. I made a short trip to the kitchen to prepare something, then returned.

I sat him up and propped up his little body with pillows to make it more comfortable, all without the need to untie his limbs. He was understandably nervous as I showed him the meal I had prepared for him.

The bowl was a rainbow of several different colors all colliding with one another in a cacophony of clashing flavors and textures. There were green peas and carrots mixed together, with chunks of sweet potato mixed in. Then the fibrous meaty texture of chicken, topped by a bright squishy substance that resembled banana. Finally, there was a healthy helping of tomato ketchup on top.

My intent was simple. If he wanted to eat and behave like a lazy pig, then he would learn to love his slop.

"What is-" He tried to ask, trying to make sense of the horrendous slop.

"Hush." I sternly replied. "Eat it. What's wrong? I thought you liked to eat." I held the heaping spoonful in front of his lips as he eyed it in disgust.

Having none of his hesitation, I offered one final ultimatum. "You will eat this, or the only thing you'll have for the rest of the week is stale crackers and warm water to drink."

Immediately, he knew the value of his meal. He eagerly took the spoonful in his mouth and swallowed it without tasting it. This was a good start, but I wasn't totally satisfied.

"Chew your food." I added in full knowledge that there was really nothing in there to chew in the first place. "Show me every bite in your mouth. I want to see it all over your tongue before you swallow."

He did exactly as I asked, not wishing to incur my wrath. Spoonful after spoonful, he gagged at the scent, and the horrendous mixture of flavors and textures as they piled up in his mouth. After three or four he began to leak some out of the corners of his lips, and I quickly had to grab his jaw and force him to swallow. 

Eventually, the bowl sat in my lap, empty, and his belly was full. All that remained was to wash it all down. I returned the bowl to the kitchen and returned with his drink. Warm tap water as punishment for his hesitation.

"Drink this." I offered him the straw poking out of the cup. As soon as the tepid liquid met his lips, he frowned in disappointment. It was the only thing he had to wash the slop out of his mouth, however, and soon he took to swishing it around before swallowing.

I kept the cup in front of him until every drop was gone, watching him silently and waiting to see if he'd dare to protest. When he finally finished, I set the cup to the side and took the pillows out from under his back, laying him down again.

The silence was tense. I could sense that he so badly wanted to know why. Why was he being treated like this? It was a question that I could give many different answers to, but for today, he was being treated like this because he was a lazy slob. He was like a baby. Lazing around all day accomplishing nothing but indulgence in sloth and gluttony. He needed to be shown the end result of such behavior.

What nonsense. It was plain, stupid, poetic sophistry. I almost believed my own shit for a second there. I was becoming so desperate to rationalize my actions that I was starting to believe that I wasn't hurting him. That I was actually showing him the error of his ways.

I was a depraved kiddie rapist, no matter how I tried to spin it. No amount of excuses or justification could change that. I simply needed to use him and abuse him for my own pleasure. I thought I had gone over this with myself already, but clearly I was still deluded. I tried to convince myself that I wasn't doing anything wrong, but that was the last thing I needed to do.

Gregory was an object to be owned by me alone. That was the truth. I had to accept it. And, in the end... So would he.