Holy shit, he was gorgeous. My little cock hardened instantly, my muzzle hanging open as I stared at my phone. Bulgin, his username was. A big, beautiful bull, more stunning than any I had ever seen. He smacked his thick cock back and forth in the gif, his round belly jiggling.

Since I turned 11, I've been jerking off to men like him, big and confident and loving. So when my mom got me this phone for my 12th birthday and I could join some local chats, I dreamed of finding a dad who would stroke my face and call me a good pup, like they did in the videos. But when I joined the Dad4son group, I hadn't dreamed a dad this hot could be local. 

“Hot dad alert!” I typed. I knew I should stop there and play it cool—that's what all the more experienced folks did in the chat—but couldn't keep myself from adding, “Pls call me a good boy. I'll do anything.”

Ah, yes. Desperation. I lay back on my bed and stared up at the low, white ceiling. You weren't supposed to show desperation. But deleting the message might make me look more desperate. Argh.

My problem? I was desperate. I needed this so—

My phone buzzed, and I almost smacked myself in the face in my rush to see if he had responded. “Thank you, Scout,” he said. “I don't think we’ve met before. Are you new?”

“Just turned 18!” I lied. Thankfully, my test scores showed I had college level reading skills, so I could pull off the lie. All those big fantasy novels paid off.

“Happy birthday!” he said. “And a good boy would show Daddy a picture.”

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. I couldn't send a photo of my face—what if someone recognized me? Knew I was only 12? I'd be kicked out, and go back to my lonely, dad-less life. I love my mom, but with just me and her… there was this hole in my stomach, gobbling every ounce of joy and fulfillment, and no matter how much I ate—and I ate a lot—I still felt empty. Even at school, I read my book in the corner while the other kids played. 

I was sick of being lonely. I needed to be held, to make someone happy. And I really wanted that someone to have a big belly and thick cock and split me open and tell me how good I made him feel. To be needed back.

Tears welled in my eyes. I was freaking out. Breathe, my mom always told me. Just breathe. I did, inhaling through my wet nose. My eyes cleared—a little—and my thoughts cleared. Lots of people didn't show their faces in photos. Many of them wore pup hoods, but some just put a sticker over their face. Or didn't include it at all.

Ok. Ok. I could do that. I lifted the camera over my head and angled it down, capturing my neck, my puffy chest and chubby belly, and the tent in my white briefs, still so small compared to the big bull cock that still had me hard. I looked young, my white and black fur short, soft, and fluffy, but without my face, I could be 18, right? 

Before I could talk myself out of it, I took the photo and hit send. 

“Damn, son,” the bull said. “Such a good boy for Daddy. Though a really good boy would take the tighty whities off and show Daddy my cocksleeve.”

Cocksleeve? Wait, did he mean my… ass? My heart fluttered from his praise even as I started to sweat. He liked me! And he wanted to see my ass!

My free paw hooked into the corner of my underwear, then froze. Could I show my ass? Me, naked for everyone to see? No. No way. But it felt so good when he called me a good boy. Even through text, the words had rubbed against the hole in my stomach and remained intact. And if I didn't do it, and he grew bored and went for someone who wasn't too scared? If he forgot about me? 

I pushed down my underwear, my little cock bouncing free, then rolled onto my belly, gasping as my mattress flattened my quivering cock against my soft belly. Then I raised my phone over my head and took the photo. 

There it was, my chubby white ass. Send. 

“Such a good boy for Daddy,” he said, and I shook with delight. My cock ached so much, I rolled onto my back and started stroking it. I needed to cum or I was going to explode.

A few other Dads in the chat said it was an ass they would love to breed, and I was about to respond to them when a chat bubble popped up. The big bull DMed me. With a video! 

I opened it, and holy shit! His massive cock was leaking as he stroked it, his keratinous fingers running along its underside, that big round belly above it, and his white horns towering over his head. “Daddy's getting so horny, son. And I know you don't want to leave Daddy hanging. Show Daddy more, son, and you'll be such a good boy that Daddy's gonna have to reward you.”

My cock jumped in my paw, my tip quivering, tingling, my hips bucking. Fuck, I was gonna cum. I tried to stop myself, but my paw stayed wrapped around my cock, smacking against my knot, my claws brushing the underside of my cock. Would he be disappointed if I already came? 

I squeezed my pelvis, trying to keep the orgasm back while swapping to my camera app, and hit record. Then my whole body shook as I came, spurts of white shooting over my fur. I squeezed my muzzle shut, tamping down the scream that wanted to erupt from my mouth, turning it into a growl that still sounded far too high-pitched. My cock ached so good, electricity arcing from it deep into my stomach, my paw squeezing out more pleasure then I ever thought possible. 

Then I collapsed on my bed, spent. I barely had enough energy to hit the stop button on my phone. But I didn't want to leave Daddy hanging. I hit send, then said, “Daddy got me really excited.”

The preview of my video popped up, and my cock was so tiny compared to his. Everyone said it'd get bigger with age, but I'd seen younger kids getting changed with bigger cocks than mine. I had to say something. “Sorry my cock is a bit small.”

“It's a perfect little cocklet on Daddy's perfect little boy. You're getting Daddy real excited too. You free this weekend?”

My mom worked Saturdays, and I was old enough not to need a babysitter. And what else could keep me busy? It's not like I had friends to hang with.

But oh God, could I actually plan to meet this big Daddy? That massive cock? I joined this group looking to chat, get some attention, fill the loneliness in my heart. I wanted to meet a big Daddy, wanted to take his cock—when I was ready. This weekend? No way was I ready.

I stared at my phone, heart pounding. What should I do? Mum told me stories of kidnapped boys. But that cock. Belly. Chest. Fuck. He could kidnap me as long as he held me against his perfect body.

My phone told me he was typing. A second later, “It's ok if you're not ready. I'll be sad, but I can live with disappointment and find another boy.”

“I'm ready!” I said, breathing in shallow, panicked gasps. “I'm free Saturday.”

Thankfully, Bulgin responded immediately. “Daddy's excited. Let me show you how much.”

A video popped up, and there his massive cock was, his black fingertips running over the head of it. “Daddy's gonna cum deep in you, son,” he said, then, lowing deep and guttural, he came. Like a geyser. Cum splattered over the camera, and I grew rock hard all over again. Fuck.

“So hot, Daddy. Your son is hard again.”

I reached around my belly and between my legs and started playing with my hole. Could it take that cock? That cock was so big. God, what had I agreed to? But even as I thought that, I grabbed my Vaseline and scooped some into my paw, then pressed it against my hole. I had to be careful; my claws weren't sharp, but they didn't feel good against the tender flesh of my rectum. Once my pad hit the spot, though, I didn't care about the discomfort. I just wanted more.

“Yeah? Show me, son.”

I hit record again, but the camera couldn't see past my belly. Just my hard little cock and my paw between my legs. But I didn't want to bore him so I whispered, “Breed me, Daddy,” then hit send. Then kept playing with my hole, wishing it were his cock. But maybe a bit smaller.

“Fuck yeah, son. Daddy's gonna breed you so good. Daddy's gonna make you mine. See you on Saturday, son.”

His? The word slammed into my chest, and my paw stilled even as my ass clenched around it and my cock quivered. For my whole life, no one wanted me. Mom loved me, supported me, but it wasn't the same. It didn't help when I sat alone at lunch with my book. 

But the most beautiful Daddy wanted me—as his. A place, where I could make him happy. Where I could belong. 

My paw pressed against my prostate while my other paw grabbed my cock and stroked furiously. I had just cum a few minutes ago but I was already close again. Just knowing I could be his. Belong.

I came, biting my own tongue to keep from screaming. Cum shot over my chest and my ass clamped down on my paw. My hips bucked. My body shivered and quaked and I was just along for the ride in this intense, overwhelming pleasure. 

Finally, the orgasm subsided. I gasped for breath, my body limp, leaden. My paw fell off my cock, smacking my phone beside me. Right. Phone. I hadn't said goodbye yet. The thought floated through my mind like a cloud. My paw slowly turned and grabbed the phone, then brought it up. 

“Yes, Daddy. Came again thinking of being yours. See you Saturday.”

I put down my phone, closed my eyes, and passed out.

________________________

After a week of furious masturbation, then sleepless nights worrying that he was going to kill me—or worse, see me and lose interest—telling myself I shouldn't message him and seem needy then doing it anyway, and daydreaming in class of that beautiful belly and cock and chest… I was here. In front of this house. This house that looked… pretty normal? 

The grass was mowed, the fresh lines a darker green. A truck sat in the driveway, an older model, but no rust peeked through its blue paint, and, past it, a car that sat on blocks, polished so bright it shone. The fence was not perfectly spaced and the brushstrokes showed, but there were no gaps in it. And the house itself was bright white in the autumn sunlight. If it had been on my street, I wouldn't have looked at it twice. 

Now, I couldn't look away. God, what was I doing? My cock was already hard, pressing against my shorts. And not only that—my heart fluttered even as it ached. I loved him already, even though I know you're not supposed to say that. The books always say that love is deeper, earned. “Love wasn't about being right or wrong, but about standing up and helping when your partner's back was bowed.” Would he stand up and help me? 

But, this feeling. Like I weighed a million pounds and still floated on the breeze. Nothing had ever been like it. My mom loved me, helped me when my back was bowed—but when had she needed me? Not because I was her son, but for what I did? Who I chose to be? 

I wanted that. That yearning—for me. Needed that so bad that I was here, outside the house of a man three times my age who I had never met, and hoping for him to—these words of his were imprinted in my skull—make me his. Fuck. Fuck, my cock ached. But I should go home. I would go home. Just walk home, and come back when I'm ready. 

My feet didn't move. I stared at the door, a dark brown accented with a silver bull knocker that reminded me of him. If I walked home and he made another boy his…?

I stepped forward, my foot slow, heavy. My next step took me off the sidewalk and onto his driveway. The gentle slope felt like a mountain, and I climbed past blue truck peak, around unweeded bush summit. And to his door. 

I panted, exhausted already. Now I needed to push the doorbell. If I should. If I—

The door opened, and I was staring at his crotch, that massive cock bulging in his shorts. At eye level. Because holy shit he was big.

I knew he was big from the photos and videos, but I had imagined him regular tall. He must be 6’6 even without the horns, and so wide he took up the entire doorframe. Chubby, yes, deliciously so, the sides of his belly sticking out from his torso, his shirt barely covering his belly button and leaving the dark curve of his underbelly exposed to air and my hungry eyes, but muscled too, for his sloped shoulders towered over me, and his massive arms seemed as wide as my entire body. 

“You made it!” He shouted, his belly jiggling right in front of my face as his deep, resonant voice boomed over me. “Daddy's so happy you did!”

I made him happy. Despite the nerves telling me to turn around and run, my cock jumped. And then jumped more when he wrapped me in a giant hug, squeezing me with gentle strength against his belly and oh God that was good and warm and he smelled like sweat and strength and beer and his belly was soft enough to engulf me in it but through that yielding fat my muzzle pressed against his powerful abs and I was so hard my little balls ached and I never wanted him to let me go.

“Come on in!” he said, never putting me down. He held me with one arm while he grabbed the door with the other and stepped inside, the door closing behind him. Then locked behind him. He put me down and looked at me, a smile on his face. It was kind and welcoming but also….

Hungry. Like a starving man at a buffet, he gazed at me, from my belly up to my face. “You're 18, eh?”

Oh, God. Did he know? “Yeah,” I squeaked despite my effort to keep my voice steady. “I just look young for my age.” If he found out I'm 12, he'd kick me out. And find another boy. And I couldn't handle—

“Nah, you look just your age,” he said, his smile turning hungrier. And I relaxed a little bit—he thought I was 18. He wouldn't kick me out. Now, I just had to not get murdered. 

But this didn't look like the house of a murderer. The floor was swept clean, though the smear of light on the hardwood meant it hadn't been mopped in a couple weeks. On my left, the living room couch was faded and worn, but none of the snacks that adorned the coffee table had made their way onto the cushions. 

But would a murderer be dirty? I had never met one before. Maybe murderers were meticulously clean.

“First time?” he asked. 

I looked up at him, my face blank. How could I be murdered more than once?

He blinked, then laughed. “First time hooking up,” he clarified.

“Oh,” I said. “Yes.” Was this just a hookup? Just fuck and never see each other again? The hole in my stomach roared, devouring.

He wrapped his arms around me. “You must be so anxious,” he said. “Come on, let's cuddle, no pressure.” 

He took off his shirt, revealing the beautiful body I jerked furiously to all week, big and powerful, a few strands of grey mixed in with the short brown fur of his belly. As I stared, he grabbed my hand and pulled me through the hall.

My feet slid along the floor, my body hanging from the limp arm he held. Belatedly, my legs moved, but never fast enough to get under me, and I lurched after him. He turned left at a door and entered a bedroom with black leather straps hanging from the walls. I recognized some of it from porn—harnesses, cuffs, hoods, jocks, canes, whips, and floggers. Some of it I didn't recognize, and that just made my already ragged nerves more raw and my heart beat faster. What wasn’t he into? But it was the large bed in the middle of the room that Bulgin dragged me to.

“Arms up,” he said, but he lifted my shirt before I had a chance to comply, and I was a doll in his hands. Then he pulled me down onto the bed, and oh God I wasn't ready to fuck, wasn't ready to be here at all—but he simply wrapped his arms around me, stroking my body softly. 

“Everything's ok,” he said. “Daddy's here, and you're safe.” His hands went down my chest, over my moobs and the rolls of my soft, round belly. I tried to relax, but how could I, staring at the wall of kink, wondering if that paddle was going to be used on me?

“Feel Daddy's touch on your skin, my warmth surrounding you.” When he said the words, I realised I was surrounded by him. His belly engulfed my back, his muzzle drooped over mine, his legs wrapped around my hips and yet still going well past my paws. How could I get away, if I had to?

“A tiny little speck, helpless in Daddy's massive arms, and yet so safe, relaxing more with each stroke of my hand against your belly.” I was helpless. But his hand stroked my belly so gently, and he whispered in my ear so soothingly. His voice rumbled, deep and powerful, but calm too. A steady rhythm. And the helplessness didn't terrify me as much anymore. If he wanted to hurt me, he wouldn't hold me like this.

“And with every word I say, you relax deeper and deeper, letting all other thoughts fade away. They don't matter, so you can let them go and focus on my voice. Only my voice.” He kept talking, his hand stroking my belly, and his words blurred together in my mind. They were a warmth that filled me, my entire body snuggled into him, and my mind filled with his voice. 

“Now, I'm going to count down from 10 to 1, and with each number I count, the rest of the world will fall away, and there will be only my voice and touch and warmth, relaxing you, filling you in the way you've always needed, always yearned for. And when I say 1, you'll feel so good, so happy and grateful and lucky. You'll know you were born for this, and now it's here. You're complete.”

As he spoke the words, they came true. That hole I tried to fill with video games and food? His words—no, his voice—warmed it, filled it. And as he counted down, I felt complete. I had longed for this my whole life, to have a place in the arms of another, and here I was. 

“1,” he said, and it was like I put on headphones, like he was speaking right into my ear with nothing between us. Like I was His. My thoughts just seemed to echo his words, slowly, distorted by distance. 

“Feel my voice fill you, becoming your world. Your everything. You were so empty before, and listening to me, my voice pouring into you, you're full. Whole.” His voice was everything. Just everything.

“You would do anything to hear my voice. Anything to repay my generosity. Anything to earn my praise.” I would. 

“Good pup. My praise fills you to bursting, joy stuffing you full. Good pup. You were born to serve, worship, and obey me. Good pup. Earn my praise. Good pup. Serve, worship, and obey me, and be suffused with my praise. Good pup.”

Serve, worship, and obey. 

“Now, are you ready to be a good pup for Daddy and take Daddy's cock?”

Was I? Would it fit? Those fears seemed far away, muffled. I wanted to be a good pup. Needed. Slowly, my mouth opened. “Yes,” I said, my voice soft and quiet. 

“Good pup. It's going to hurt, but you're going to make Daddy so happy. And that's what you need. To make Daddy happy, and have Daddy fill you.”

Daddy happy. Filled.

Then the world careened back to me as he grabbed my shorts, his hard black fingertips digging into my flesh. He lifted my thick body into the air like a doll and pulled down my shorts and underwear off and flung them against the wall, hitting them hanging off a black cane. My face fell against the bed, and I moved my hands to push it up, but they responded slowly, leaden. I managed barely an inch.

Daddy held my hips up with one arm, and his fingers pressed against my hole with his other, slick with lube. “Feels so good to have Daddy inside you, filling you.” And it did. “When Daddy's raw cock is deep inside you, you'll know this is what you were made for. This is why you exist. To serve me. Take my cock.”

My arms quivered, then gave out, my face slapping against the bed. I was made for that—but could I do it? Even with the lube, my ass hurt as he put another finger inside. But electric pleasure shot up my torso from that finger, and I gasped. 

His fingers pulled out, replaced by the heat of his cock. Its flat head pressed against my hole, and I opened up to it without thinking. But it was still too thick to enter. There was no way I could take it.

“You ready, pup?” he asked. His voice was no longer the soothing rumble of the cuddle. It was firm, unyielding. “Because once I start fucking you, I'm not stopping until my seed is deep inside you.”

His voice was hot, but the question was cold, chilling. But the terror I had felt as I entered the house did not return. I wanted this—my paws flexed thinking of Daddy's cock and cum inside me. But if I couldn't handle it? Could I end up in the hospital, hurt? 

“I know you don't wanna disappoint Daddy. You wanna be a good pup for Daddy, don't you?” His fingers worked through the tuft of hair on my head, massaging my scalp, then ran down my back to my hips. My skin tingled.

Disappoint Daddy? That voice that filled me—sad? No. Never.

“Yes,” I said, a breathy whisper smothered by the dark red sheets my face pressed against. 

“Good pup,” he said. “Such a good pup for Daddy. You’ve made Daddy so happy and proud.”

Warmth spread through my body like a bonfire, a living pleasure that danced through me. Then pain. Shooting pain. Shredding pain. I tried to jerk away from it, but Daddy's hands held my hips in place. I could do nothing but scream as Daddy forced into me, my eyes blurring, my claws scrabbling at the bedsheets, catching and tearing them—and then He was inside. 

I sobbed. Relief and pain from the still-aching, ripping stretch of his cock. I prayed that the worst part was over. 

“Good pup,” Daddy said over my sobs. “Daddy's gonna have fun with you.”

One hand grabbed the back of my head and pushed my muzzle into the bed while the other held my hips up, and he fucked me. Hard. His hips slammed into my ass over and over, pounding right through me.

“You're mine, son,” he growled, the words piercing the haze of pain enveloping my mind. “Daddy's little pup.”

It was more than I could handle, his cock hammering into me without pause or pity or gentleness. The big Daddy who had held me and whispered in my ear was gone, replaced by this monster who destroyed me. I struggled against his hand, but my paws caught in the ribbons of the sheets, my head too deep in the bed to breathe.

“Stop,” I tried to say. But the mattress pressed my muzzle closed, the sheets wrapped around my nose. I couldn't breathe, couldn't think, could only ache from the pounding throb of his massive cock into my too-small ass. 

My lungs ached and shuddered. My body spasmed, a panicked burst of desperate energy to lift my head, breathe, tear the sheets away, push his too-thick jackhammer cock away from me, but the slam of his hips smashed through everything I had. His hard fingers never shifted from the back of my head, the keratin boring through my skull.

But, slowly, the pain in my skull and my ass dimmed, leaving only the burning of my lungs. Until even that faded, like breath in cold air. Idly, I wondered, is this how I would die?

Then he lowed, deep and roaring, his cock pulsing as he came inside me. Each throb of his cock spurted another rope of cum in me. His fingers dug through the fur on the back of my head and pulled my muzzle free from the bed, and, gasping and crying, I breathed between hiccups and tears. 

His whole body shuddered, his low deafening me, then he collapsed, half on top of me and half beside me. I struggled to get free, to get away from the pain and fear and breathe. But he wrapped his arms around me, his muzzle resting over my eyes, and whispered into my ear. His words went right into me, deep and rumbling and joyous.

“You were such a good pup for Daddy. I know it hurt, son, and I'm sorry. You're so sweet and sexy that I lost control. But you were so brave, and I'm so proud.”

My shuddering sobs continued, but they softened. The pain still wracked my body, and I still shivered, but his voice and stroking hands and still-hot body soothed me. 

“No one has ever made Daddy feel so good, son. You're Daddy's special little pup.”

No one? I craned my neck up, but only saw the side of his muzzle and one big brown eye. But that one eye was so tender, staring into me with a gentle intensity that drove his voice into my brain. 

“Daddy's good little pup. And it looks like my son enjoyed it too.” His hand stroked some matted, tacky fur on my belly. I looked down, and my fur was stuck together with cum, my little knot swollen, and some white droplets rested on the tip of my cock. I had cum. When had I cum?

Daddy's finger slid over the cum then brought it to my muzzle. “Open,” he said, and I did. Then he put his finger in my mouth, rubbing it against my tongue, his keratin hard and unyielding. 

“That's Daddy's good little pup. The best little pup in the world. So strong and brave, to take Daddy's cock so well. And Daddy is so proud.”

I sniffled one last time, then relaxed into Daddy's loving arms. He held me against him so tight, whispering in my ear so gently and sweetly that the pain didn't seem to matter anymore. I just felt so good all over, every part of me warm and loved and wanted and needed.

I looked up one more time, at the gentle intensity of his eyes. “I love you, Daddy.”

He blinked, then smiled. His hand slowly stroked down my muzzle as though he felt every single strand of my fur itself. Then he kissed me on the top of my head. His smile was hungry, but it had no less warmth for that. 

“And I love you, my son.”

He loved me? I shivered—with warmth. Pleasure
 Ecstasy. I had found my place. 

“Thank you, my Daddy.” I wriggled deeper into his belly, and sighed, warm, loved, and so very, very happy.