“This,” Grant motioned to the unassuming fur beside him, “is Jack. Jack, This is my husband, Freddy.”

Freddy took a swig of his beer before setting down the perspiring bottle and letting his eyes drift over his new acquaintance's form. He was a chipmunk, and a good few inches shorter than Freddy’s own six feet. Far less bulk on him too (the white tiger was by no means a bodybuilder, but he went to the gym regularly and paid careful attention to his physique). Jack smiled and held forth his paw. The cat took it and was surprised at how firm his grip was. The rodent exuded an air of self-assurance that, despite his stature, Freddy found inexplicably intimidating. He pulled out a stool and sat directly across from the tiger, ordering a whisky, neat, from a passing server without ever breaking eye contact with the feline.

Grant took his own seat next to his mate, pausing briefly before he sat to give the feline a quick, comforting hug with one arm across his shoulders.

“There’s probably no way to not be awkward about this-” the otter began, smoothing some ruffled fur on his forearm to busy his paws as he spoke.

“It’s only as awkward as you make it. A lot of furs are into this. I’m more than happy to help out,” Jack interjected confidently.

“We can discuss everything tonight over drinks, try it out once, and if we like it, keep it up for a while,” Grant offered, glancing toward his lover.

It was a dynamic that Grant had been eager to try out for a while. Freddy had been intrigued by the idea, though not initially sold. The pair had approached exploring kink clumsily, looking up ideas of what to try on the internet and replicating them as best they could. Most of their endeavors had been some variation light bondage and spanking. While they had experienced nothing close to extreme, the couple had gradually sorted out their most of their true wants from their passing curiosities. The masculine Freddy enjoyed the taboo of being dominated and humiliated, and Grant liked to be desired and lusted after while providing what sexual gratification he could to his partner.

Unfortunately, the pair had hit a brick wall. Inexperienced as they were with BDSM, they needed a mentor. Someone willing to engage with their desires on a comprehensive level and able to show the mustelid how to debase his mate in new and unexpected ways, while still being someone for him to support and care for. Maybe not a fur that he would “love” in the same way that he did for Freddy, but an emotional connection needed to exist.

Enter Jack. He was a previous coworker and long ago sex partner of Grant’s from before the otter had ever met even Freddy, so there wasn’t much to there to cause jealousy and tension. He was also very much a sex-positive anthro and had been in the kink community for a long while. He knew his way around a variety of fetishes and was more than willing to help his former flame explore some new ways to enjoy sex. A couple of text messages later and they were already planning on all meeting up at a local bar to discuss how things would play out from there. The bull/cuckold dynamic was definitively Grant’s idea to explore. The feline was willing to try out most things at least once, but he wasn’t completely sold on the idea of watching his mate have wild sex with somebody else while he passively watched, listened, or was utterly ignored.

“This will only work if you are both invested in the fantasy,” Jack explained by the time they were on their third round and deep into the discussion. “Once we get started, there will be a safeword and I won’t stop doing whatever I want to do unless I hear it from one of you. But If I hear it, I’m out and I’m not coming back. So before you say it, make sure that you really want what we are doing here to be over.”

Freddy and Grant looked at each other and nodded, the tiger with notably more trepidation than his husband.

A few days later they had met up again to lay down limits and test the waters. After hammering out the exact boundaries (along with which to push and which to let be), Jack ordered Freddy to strip. The cat felt his ears warm and redden, and after a moment’s hesitation rose to stand. He peeled away his clothes while his lover and his new friend watched him.

“From now on, when I tell you something, I expect you to answer ‘Yes, Sir.’ Understood?” The chipmunk prompted with a raised brow.

“...yes, Sir.”

It felt strangely immature to speak like that. “Sir” and “Master” were words occasionally thrown about in the bedroom during a short-lived kink scene. Regularly calling another male “Sir” and granting him that level of social and psychological authority over him left him with an uneasy feeling, but he couldn’t quite place yet if it was a fully unwelcome one.

“Good boy. That goes for when your sexy husband orders you about too. If you are beneath him enough that he can give you to me to play with, then you should do what he commands without question and refer to him with respect- I didn’t say to stop!”

The cat had disrobed to his underwear, and was now standing in only his green trunks before the two other sitting furs. His tail lashed about self-consciously. He was fit, with his snowy fur shorn short across his tight, athletic form. From the back of his neck to the tip of his tail his pelt was lined with jagged black stripes, miniature versions of which adorned his biceps and thighs. The contours of his physique were just visible beneath his coat, complete with muscular V of flesh disappearing into the elastic of his waistband. He had no reason to be embarrassed of his body, in fact, he shamelessly flaunted it in the gym, but the chipmunk’s keen, assessing gaze made him acutely aware of every bit of himself.

“Hesitation like that would normally earn you a beating, but since you’re new to this you can get off with a warning. Lose the underwear. I want to see what I’m working with.”

Freddy dropped his last remaining garment. He certainly had nothing to be ashamed of that department. Even soft, his uncut length hung heavy and long between his legs, accompanied by a hefty sac. When it was erect it curved out and up an impressively thick nine inches from his body, the pale peach of his flesh darkening as it approached the tip, where his foreskin would retract to reveal his rosy crown. He preferred to bottom during sex, but more than a few past lovers were eager to have taken his enormous cock inside of them.

The rodent leaned over and with casual confidence fondled the feline, rolling his heavy orbs about in his palm.

“Definitely going to have to make sure this monster doesn’t see anymore use,” he commented, giving the plumping maleness a gentle squeeze. “Lucky for us, I brought the perfect solution.”

Jack reached over into a bag he had brought with him and withdrew a small, steel apparatus. He held it up and Freddy could see that it was chastity cage. Those few metal bars could make one’s life incredibly frustrating after a while, or so he had heard. It was rare for the cat to go more than a day or two without either having sex or pawing himself off.

“Let’s get this on you. I bet you’ll just squeeze into it.”

The curiosity started to arouse Freddy, and he found himself half-erect while their new bull handled his junk, making it impossible to fit the cage over. Unperturbed, the chipmunk simply gave his testicles a flick. The tiger yelped as he rapidly softened and felt his shaft be stuffed into a small tube of cold, steel bars. A ring slipped securely behind his sac and with the click of a miniature, shiny brass padlock on the top of the thing, the device locked into place. The now chaste cuck looked down and examined himself. Used to seeing his gifted endowment, it was unsettling to see his maleness compressed to fit into its unyielding confines. Despite its small size, the cage had some heft to it, and he felt it tugging downward on him.

“Don’t worry if it is an uncomfortable fit. I’ll keep you in it long enough that you’ll naturally shrink down to fit it. And we’re going to switch you to underwear that support its weight a bit better too,” Jack announced as if reading his mind. “We’ll throw out your current underwear in a moment. You’re my boy now and boys don’t wear anything more advanced than tighty whities.”

“S-shrink, Sir?”

“It’ll take several weeks. Maybe a few months before it’s very noticeable. But it will happen before you know it.”

The chipmunk smiled, vaguely menacing.

“A few months,” the submissive whispered to himself, suddenly rethinking consenting to their new dynamic. Just how long did they intend to keep him from having an orgasm?

“Also, I brought the only two keys to that lock.” He dangled them on a pair of thin silver chains from his claws. “One for me and one for your mate, so hope we don’t lose them. You’d be surprised how easy they are to forget and leave behind someplace. You’ll get released when, and only when, one of us says you do. Not a moment earlier. We’ll start you off with one orgasm a week and slow it down from there. Disobedience at anytime forfeits your next orgasm in addition to whatever immediate consequences I feel like implementing.”

Freddy gulped, it seemed like a lot was coming at him really fast and he wasn’t sure how to handle it. Despite being a head shorter and much less imposing than the tiger, Jack had a natural magnetism, intensity, and control about him that made it easy for the submissive to fall into a rhythm of listening and obeying even when he was uneasy. He glanced over to his husband who had the ecstatic look of a cub on his birthday, eager to see where the new conditions led.

Both of the feline’s doms slipped a key around their neck. The chains were short, letting the dangling bit of metal hang just beneath the collars of their shirts.

“With all of that out of the way, I could use a solid fuck. I’m pretty sure I remember how you like it,” Jack leered over at the otter, who smiled giddily back.

“I guess you should find a way to entertain yourself for a while, love. This could take a bit,” Grant suggested. He tried to emulate the rodent’s relaxed authority, but obviously had less practice with it.

“No, I’d rather my new boy watch. He should see you getting taken,” the rodent said, pulling off his shirt as stood. 

His fur was sleek, glossy, and finely kempt (not unlike Grant’s), and was a chestnut brown with a couple of vertical chocolate streaks going down his spine. He had a tan underbelly and his mask was the same shade as his front with a few white and black highlights around his eyes. His body seemed so average in so many ways. He was neither nor short nor tall, not too heavy or thin. He carried himself with the poise of a champion prize-fighter despite not having the muscular form of one.

Grant scurried toward the bedroom, followed by Jack who was down to his charcoal boxer-briefs. The rodent smiled broadly and motioned for the naked tiger to follow. 

“Kneel here and watch,” Jack ordered.

Freddy dropped to the floor near the wall as Jack finished undressing. Grant quickly shucked his own clothes until he was down to his underwear. His fur was so dark it was practically laquered to a sheen with blackness and disappeared into his low-cut periwinkle briefs with plum elastic. His bulge was obvious and the growing damp patch near the tip of his half-erect length was readily visible. Wasting no more time, the chipmunk was naked and pressing the otter back toward the bed. His shaft extended only six and a half inches from his pelvis, but seemed longer to the obedient tiger due to his swagger and energy. 

He flashed a condescending smirk down toward the feline, his dark, glassy eyes lingering for a moment on the cat’s caged cock. The key was the only thing the rodent was wearing, and it glinted in his plush chest fur.

Grant bounced back onto the bed on his rump excitedly. Jack stepped before him, his groin level with the otter’s face. The mustelid blushed as he inhaled the other male’s intoxicating scent and took his shaft in his paws. He gave the tip a teasing flicker of his tongue, eyes lighting up as it pulsed with pleasure at the attention. 

Freddy felt intense pangs of jealousy at seeing his husband eager to please another anthro. And yet, at the same time, he also found the scene arousing in a way he had difficulty reconciling with himself. It was erotic. Pornographic. He briefly began to harden until his maleness fought a painful and losing battle against its confines, and leaked a slow, glistening strand of pre to the carpet. Though it rapidly subsided, he was shocked that the tumescence had occurred at all and even felt slightly guilty that some deep part of him might have found some sliver of enjoyment in what was happening. He was, after all, doing this for his mate’s benefit. 

Confused, the tiger wanted to look away, but something about the tumult of emotion, the enticing view, and the simple command he had been given compelled him to continue watching.

The mustelid cupped Jack’s sac with one paw and wrapped his fingers more tightly around the erection with his other. He began to take his tip into his maw, tasting the salty bead of pre that formed at its tip. He greedily bobbed up and down, running his tongue along its thrumming length, beneath its slick foreskin. Freddy knew from experience just how much of an expert the otter was at giving head and almost whimpered with need as he helplessly viewed his partner suck off their friend.

The chipmunk bull didn’t seem to want to waste too much time. He stopped the Grant shortly and motioned for him to turn around and get on all fours.

Grant arched his long, slinky spine and wriggled his hoisted hips expectantly. Jack quickly hooked his claws into the waistband of the other fur’s underwear and pulled them down until they were stretched taut between his knees. He reached over and pumped some lube into his paw from a container on the bedside table and greased his fingers. With a practiced ease, he glided a digit into the otter’s hole, feeling the tight heat press in and squeeze around his finger. He pulled it out and repeated the motion several times, twisting and beckoning inside of him before eventually adding a second and scissoring his fingers to stretch the entrance enough to accommodate him.

Then, the rodent positioned himself and slid forward on his knees until the tip of his cock pressed up into the Grant’s cleft. He quickly slathered his penis with a slick coating of lube and began to force himself in, inch by inch with a slow, deliberate thrust. Freddy gasped, suddenly intensely torn at seeing his husband truly taken. The mustelid quivered and moaned as he was penetrated, his face blurring the line between pain from being pried open and ecstasy from the same sensation. Jack grinned predatorily as he slid himself almost free before forcefully slamming himself back in, his hips audibly smacking against his lover’s ass, sac bouncing against sac. He started to buck and thrust and piston, reveling in the otter writhing with bliss beneath him. Their keys swung from their necks like pendulums in unison.

Jack bent forward and stage-whispered in the Grant’s ear, loudly enough for the feline halfway across the room to make out, “I’ve missed this.”

He didn’t slow his fucking at all to move a paw to his submissive’s cheek and turn his face toward him. He pressed his muzzle against the other anthro’s and they kissed deeply and passionately, tongues dancing along one another’s as they groaned. Mesmerized as he was by the display of his mate being roughly fucked in the ass and making out with another male, Freddy became acutely aware of the envy welling within him. 

Soon, they both drew close, and enunciated as much in raspy voices between exhausted pants.

Grant’s sac drew tight and his breath hitched. With one final twitch of his cock he splattered several sticky ropes of seed across the bedspread. His orgasm caused him to clench down tightly on their bull’s shaft and push him over the edge as well. With a throaty grunt Jack hilted himself and pumped a hot spray of spunk into his lover. His gut visibly spasmed as he unleashed his load. A brief moment of heavy breathing and basking in the afterglow followed before he withdrew his softening member. Chipmunk essence gushed from the otter’s used hole. 

Freddy looked satisfied as he examined his work, kneading the flesh of the otter’s ass. He glanced over to the neglected cuckold almost as an afterthought.

“Oh, did you want to be involved?” He taunted.

Freddy didn’t answer, assuming it was a rhetorical question meant to tease him.

“I asked you a question, boy.”

“Yes, Sir,” he stammered quickly. It was an instinctual answer, wanting sex with his mate, especially since he was deep within the throes of jealousy.

“Lucky for you I can always summon reserves. Come here.”

The chipmunk climbed off the bed while Freddy shuffled forward on his knees before him, smelling the heady aroma of sex and sweat that lingered in the air- the familiar pheromones of his husband, and the tangy smell of a new, masculine presence. From where the tiger ended up, he could see the cooling seed slowly leaking from Grant’s opening as the otter lounged in his post rut lethargy. A small river of cum oozed down the back of his sac, wetting the fur there. It was a strange torment to see. 

Freddy’s bull started to languidly stroke his still well-oiled length, coaxing his hardness into returning. Moments later, he was humping into his fist and rapidly approaching his second orgasm of the evening. He suddenly reached for a bowl on the nightstand. The feline hadn’t seen either of his keyholders bring it in, suggesting that it had been a preplanned endeavor. Huffing, Jack angled his length down toward the dish and rolled his head back as he came a second time, pumping a fresh torrent of spunk into it. The pearlescent strands splattered into the bowl, sloshing against the side before pooling in its basin. Some of his climax missed the vessel and peppered the cat’s face, splashing across his snoot and further suffusing the air with his powerful scent. He set it down at his footpaws.

Suddenly rodent’s paw was behind his neck, claws gripping his scruff and forcing him prostrate, his muzzle hovering just above the bowl of cum.

“Lap it all up. I want that bowl spotless.”

The cat opened his muzzle and tentatively stuck forth his tongue. Just as he was resolving himself to eating the seed of the male who had just taken his mate in front of him, Jack unexpectedly pressed him down so that his tongue plunged into the ceramic bowl and made the decision for him. 

“Remember, boy: No hesitation.”

He dragged a mouthful of the warm fluid into his maw with his tongue and swallowed. Followed by another and another. The task got more difficult as he went along and the semen started to be pushed around rather than licked up, but eventually he managed to gulp down the last bit that remained. He felt some of the cum that had dribbled down his chin starting to dry and mat into the fur there. He wiped it away as best he could with his forearm, but found himself absently licking his lips. The salty flavor that danced across his tongue was a keen reminder of what he had just witnessed.

“Get dressed. You need to go to the store to buy your new underwear. Tighty whities only. No self checkout. Let the cashier see what you wear now. I’ll stay here and enjoy another round with Grant. Especially since I haven’t been mounted in a good, long while myself.”

Freddy did as told. The weight of chastity cage was strange as he walked the aisles of the store, and it set his gait askew as he got used to the added bulk. While running his errand he tried and failed to not think about his husband having sex without him, still uncertain if their experiment was going to be worth it. However, when he returned, the provocative odor of the apartment told him that his husband and their bull had recently finished another mating. Traffic had been rough, and the tiger was gone for longer than he wanted to be, meaning they had either coupled for a long time or had taken a break between sessions. He set down his purchase and wandered into the bedroom were his nude lover and the newest addition to their relationship were entangled in bed.

Jack glanced at the clock.

“Took you awhile,” he said, grinning.

“There was traffic and-”

“New rule. I want you in home by eight every night. No exceptions.”

“But what if-”

“No exceptions. Anymore backtalk and it’ll be a bedtime instead.”

Chastity? Curfews? Bedtimes? His newly required choice in underwear? Freddy was beginning to realize that Jack didn’t just intend to fuck his husband while he watched and degrade him alongside. He wanted to emasculate the tiger. Break him down to a whimpering cub while Grant got to enjoy a strong, confident bull taking him. The thought of submitting to the humiliation appealed to him, even if his feelings about the relationship remained to be seen. His encased cock gave a brief throb. The bars fought back and successfully restrained his hardon, which somehow aroused him further.

“Yes, Sir,” he dutifully responded.

“That’s what I like to hear. Now go fetch us some drinks.”

Jack ended up staying the night. With how things had transpired, the white and black feline was worried that he would be relegated to the couch or floor, but as they prepared to sleep, the chipmunk patted the bed beside him with one paw, his other winding beneath the otter’s shoulders. Freddy stripped down to his underwear (how he normally slept), only now he was clad in his new, pristine white underwear, rather than the expensive, sexy garments he normally wore. The outline of his locked cage was plainly visible in the taut fabric. Beside the two other males, despite outsizing them, he felt small. Not quite lesser, but definitely in a subservient place. To his surprise, their bull wrapped an arm around his waist as well and snuggled briefly into his collarbone. The tiger inhaled deeply, smelling his musk and the persistent scent of spent seed.

Freddy felt undeniably vulnerable and raw after seeing his husband being taken by another anthro, but just then, in Jack’s arm, he also felt oddly comforted. Almost sheltered. Wanted. Pre leaked into the pouch of his underwear as he drifted off to sleep.

The rodent departed the following morning after enjoying a pot of coffee brewed and served by his “boy.” He gave Grant a passionate kiss before leaving, causing Freddy’s ears to droop despondently, and paused once again on his way out to tease the tiger by drumming his claws against his locked maleness. The feline had woken to the strange and painful experience of his morning erection fighting a losing battle against the bars of the cage. It had only recently subsided and the renewed focus on his groin didn’t help matters.

“How are you feeling?” The mustelid probed once Jack had driven off.

“I- I honestly don’t know.”

“You didn’t use our safeword, so you must not have hated it,” his spouse offered.

“It was different. There are things I don’t hate about it.”

“Like what? Talk to me.”

“I like the way he-” Freddy’s ears folded back and his whiskers twitched with embarrassment as he forced himself to say it- “told me what to do. It was so...effortless. Like it came naturally for him to get whatever he wanted.”

“Jack’s certainly good at that,” the otter mused aloud with a wistful smile. He blushed a bit himself. “He gave me some pointers on helping to ‘put you in your proper place.’”

“Like what?”

“That I shouldn’t hesitate to treat you like you like are here to serve us. That I should expect to get what I want from you, when I want it from you. Because it is a sign of respect that you submit. You don’t have to. You can stop whenever you want. I’m not putting you beneath me, I’ve earned your love and respect enough that you are willingly pushing me up. Jack put it more poetically than that. Anyway he’s fantastic at reading people. While you were gone last night he said that he could tell the instant he met you secretly want to be a true sub and have all responsibility stripped from you.”

Did he want that? Freddy wasn’t sure himself. He did obey Jack’s orders on instinct, and his fleeting erections during the event told him that on some level he enjoyed the experience.

Grant leaned forward expectantly.

“Speaking of, you haven’t been calling me ‘Sir’ this morning. I’m supposed to punish you by removing a privilege whenever you do something wrong to help solidify our roles.”

Freddy swallowed nervously.

“You’re on an allowance now. You have $20 you are allowed to spend this week. Anything you want or need to buy after that, you have to ask permission from either me or Jack. Give me your credit card.”

“Yes, Sir.”

He handed his card to his husband who offered him a crisp $20 bill. His face burned at the thought of having to call and ask permission to spend money on a lunch meeting, or while out buying clothes.

“That’s better. I know it will be a bit rough at first. But give yourself some time to wrap your little head around the new dynamic we have and I think you’ll end up liking it a lot.”

The next several weeks went by in a blur with Freddy and Grant exploring their new dynamic along with Jack’s assistance. Jack stopped by nearly every day to belittle and embarrass the cat in a million small ways, as well as have a vast array of wild sex with the otter while Freddy was forced to watch. Every once in a while, Freddy would be directed to play a role in these encounters, such as sucking or stroking the chipmunk until he was hard enough to fuck his husband, but usually he was left needful and neglected. 

The tiger grew hornier and more eager to please as each day passed due to his enforced chastity. He was unused to going more than a day or two without sex or pawing, and after only the first seven days there was little he wouldn’t do for a chance to cum. He made a solid effort to do as commanded and not lose his weekly orgasm, though he made some minor errors on occasion. 

These were swiftly punished if the rodent bull was around. Sometimes by physical means (Jack often brought a hefty wooden paddle, “just in case”), but more often via an embarrassing feat, such as not being allowed to wear pants while driving and experiencing the heart-rending fear of any fur pulling up next to him at a stoplight with a higher off the ground car who could easily glance over and see his caged maleness outlined clearly in his immature underwear.

Every so many days the feline’s chastity device came off for a few, painfully brief minutes for cleaning, and to allow him a climax if he had earned it. After each time he was allowed to cum, the amount of time he was to be kept denied steadily climbed. From one week to two. Then to three. Eventually more than a month was passing between full erections, let alone orgasms. 

Freddy’s flaccid size had begun to diminish during this time to better suit its new limitations. He was shocked to see that Jack had told him the truth. When his cage was finally removed, after wearing it for nearly a month straight following several two- to three-week long periods with only minutes reprieve at a time, his once impressive length was nowhere to be seen. Even with some gentle coaxing and hot water in the shower, any inkling of his former size had vanished. “Below average” would be a charitable descriptor for his now, and he knew that it would only continue to trend downward until his cock was laughably small. 

Freddy started to hit his stride with into his new role in life, including growing more accepting of the rodent’s increasing presence in he and his husband’s relationship. While he wouldn’t say his total subservience got easier to experience, he could admit to himself that his hesitance ebbed and flowed. He was beginning to grow strangely fond of the chipmunk’s presence as well, knowing that it made his mate happy, which in turn made him happy. Jack gradually turned up the intensity of his control, always keeping the cat on the edge of his comfort zone as he coached their otter lover to do the same. He was no longer allowed to drink alcohol. His allowance shrunk. His curfew drew earlier. A bedtime had been imposed on him. 

Sexual orders were delivered along with the mundane. He was to start associating orgasms with anal pleasure so that he could eventually be given his climax without removing his cage and be completely needy and submissive. He was therefore no longer allowed a release unless he was fucking himself with a dildo while hie pawed off. He was regularly offered larger toys to use for this purpose, and to keep himself stretched he had to start wearing a buttplug more often than not. Some of these vibrated with a simple tap of a key on either of his Masters’ phones from seemingly any distance, causing more than one embarrassing exclamation from him while at work or out shopping.

The striped anthro made his first major infraction after a couple of months. After being convinced against his better judgement to attend a coworker’s birthday party at a bar not far from his office, he arrived home very late one night obviously smelling as though he had his fair share of drinks. Jack and Grant glared at him, displeased, as he entered their home. His tail suddenly curled up nervously between his legs.

“Boy, what’s the rule your husband changed for you last week?” Jack asked sternly, cocking his brow.

“I’m sorry, Sir, but-”

“The rule?”

“Be home by seven every night now, Sir.”

“And what time is now?”

“Almost midnight, Sir.”

“This will require some severe punishment, don’t you think, Grant?” The chipmunk looked toward Freddy’s husband, who nodded gravely.

“We were very worried about you. Then I saw a charge on our account at a bar. How did you even pay when I have your card?”

“I paid from my phone, Sir,” he admitted meekly, afraid the admission might lead to the loss of his phone, something wholly necessary to his day to day life.

“Out late, drinking, and spending money without asking permission?” His husband tisked. “I think you’ve proven you aren’t mature enough to handle even the limited set of responsibilities we’ve let you have.” He seemed about to continue, but then turned toward his lover who nodded his approval before Grant continued. “If you are going to act like a rebellious little cub, you are going to be treated like a little cub.”

The tiger fidgeted, wondering what his spouse and their bull had in store for him.

“Tomorrow morning you are going to the store and buying as many of the largest pack of adult diapers they have. You are going to wear and use every last diaper until they are all gone, at which point we will see about letting you earn your big-boy underwear back,” the mustelid directed, receiving an approving pat on the back from Jack.

“But...but…”

“And from now on it is ‘be home by six and in bed by nine,’” Jack interjected.

“But I-”

“And your allowance is totally cut. Here on out, every cent you spend will have to be approved by one of us. Grant can put a parental lock on your bank account to make sure it is followed through with. And don’t expect that cage to get unlocked anytime soon. Understood?”

“...yes, Sir.”

“Good, now let’s get to bed.”

Freddy stared down at his foot-paws, feeling incredibly down about disappointing his mate and their boyfriend. He was unsure of how their joint presence quickly transformed him from confident in the decision he made earlier in the evening to a submissive whelp seeking their approval. It wouldn’t be until later that he’d realize he hated disappointing them. Even with the harsh, humiliating punishments that he would have to endure, opting out didn’t even cross his mind.

The next morning, the anthro cat went to a nearby supermarket to buy his diapers. He shuffled up to the cashier with a substantial pack under each arm, heart pounding in his ears. When it came time to pay, he remembered that he had to call his husband and contritely ask him to unlock his bank account so he could buy his supply while in front of everyone in line. The otter made him repeat himself louder and more clearly several times before he allowed the purchase to be made, ensuring everyone within earshot was aware that the padding was, in fact, intended for him.

Jack was still at their home from the night before, and when Freddy returned with his newly acquired, disposable underwear, the tiger was instructed to strip off and lay down on the living room rug. His bull knelt beside him and tore open the pack. He hoisted his cuck’s legs and slid a diaper beneath his rump. It was soft, thick and plush against him, and backed with crinkling plastic as white as his fur. Completely embarrassed, the feline hid his burning face with his paws, but Grant and Jack shared a knowing smirk when they saw pre dribbling from Freddy’s captive cock. The mustelid doubted it was the diapers specifically that aroused him. It was most likely the combination of long-term denial with and the humiliation that the tiger generally craved that was having such an effect on him. With speed and precision, the chipmunk taped the diaper into place. Once he was finished and the doms had enjoyed a snicker at his expense, Freddy was allowed to stand.

Jack patted his butt patronizingly as he bent over to retrieve his jeans, but Grant took them from his paws and tossed them aside.

“No wearing pants when you’re home.  We are going to need to see when you are wet if we are going to change you when you need it,” he explained with a wink. He drummed his claws on Freddy’s padded crotch, hearing them tap pleasingly against the rustling plastic. “And sit on the floor. If you end up leaking I don’t want to have to clean the furniture.”

“Yes, Sir.” Freddy nodded bashfully.

He heard a click and turned to see Jack holding up his phone and taking a snapshot of the tiger clad in nothing but his diaper.

“This is just a little insurance. If I ever catch you without your diaper on without permission, this image goes not only online, but also directly to everyone you know. Don’t be nervous though. You look pretty cute in them.”

Pissing in a diaper for the first time was an odd experience. After a few hours the tiger badly needed to pee, but he had to overcome a mental block on wetting himself that had been trained into him since he was a young cub. His bladder ended up spasming and aching from needing to go before he was finally able to force out a stream to alleviate some of the pressure. That small jet turned into a steady flow, and soon he was unable to stop himself from thoroughly flooding his diaper. He was mortified as he glanced down to see the thirsty padding soaking it all up until it was sagging with the weight of his urine and faintly tinted yellow. It had swelled and started pushing outward between his thighs, which made him awkwardly waddle rather than walk. He became distinctly aware of the odor that emanated from him, knowing that were he to venture outside any fur with even a passable sense of smell would be able to identify the scent and its source.

He was therefore thankful that he was allowed to spend most of the day inside, even if it meant forgoing pants, with him getting soggier and soggier as the hours wore on. Eventually, he lowered his ears approached his husband and bull.

“Could you...could you change me please, Sirs?” He asked quietly, hardly able to look into his lovers’ eyes.

It was Grant’s turn to change his husband, and he did so with instruction from the chipmunk, who clearly had more experience diapering submissive boys. Freddy’s tail swished about as his mate pulled away the ruined padding and replaced it with one that was fresh, dry, and the tiger had to admit, surprisingly comfortable. Once they were finished, he was given a kiss by his husband on his monochrome brow and a supportive pat on the shoulder by Jack.

He was then directed to dress so they could all go out to dinner. Freddy had some difficulty pulling his trousers on over his diaper, which ended up bulging. At least to his own eyes, it was painfully obvious that he was padded. He started to search for less conspicuous clothing, but was hurried along by his Masters. He briefly continued in vain to try to find more suitable clothing and was promised a spanking upon their return home for his dawdling. Eventually, he gave in and left. He rode in the back of the car while the otter and rodent took the front.

At the restaurant, when the opossum server asked him what he would like, Jack leaned in and ordered for him. He experienced a deluge of emotion just then. At first there was embarrassment and annoyance that he was being belittled so publicly and being ordered for like he was a cub (which the server seemed mildly amused by). But that immediate reaction waned when he realized that their bull had ordered for him exactly what he had intended to get for himself, and he felt strangely pacified that the rodent had read him so well so quickly. His unusual mix of humiliation and gratitude continued when Grant leaned over and cut his food into bite-size pieces for him before he was allowed to eat.

“You’ll be getting ten swats for dawdling while getting dressed,” the otter explained after they returned home.

“And ten more for breaking curfew,” Jack added, glancing at the clock and seeing that it was after seven.

“But that’s not fair, I didn’t choose to-”

“And ten more for back talking just now,” his husband interjected, taking cues on regressing and subjugating his mate from Jack. “Drop your pants and bend over the couch for me.”

Freddy complied nervously, though quickly lest he incur more punishment, presenting his hindquarters with his tail raised and curling up into a spiral near his spine. Jack retrieved his paddle and smacked it loudly against his palm before handing it over to Grant. The mustelid swished it through the air a couple of times before grabbing a pawful of the cat’s sodden diaper and tearing the protection away. He crumpled it into a ball and tossed it aside. With one paw he grabbed the base of his lover’s tail and admired his tight cleft and the shiny ring of steel that wrapped behind his heavy sac. The otter was starting to get hard by just looking at the offered ass. His gaze rolled over the taut musculature of his submissive’s lower back, visible through his smooth fur, his strong thighs, and ready position. The flared base of the a buttplug was lodged in Freddy’s hole was just visible between the globes of his buttocks.

The tiger swallowed in anticipation during the pause.

With an audible whap! the paddle whistled through the air and landed against Freddy’s pert rump. He involuntarily hissed through his teeth at the sharp pain. A tingling numbness set in post strike, and just as it began to wear off, the second blow landed.

“Keep track for me like a good cub,” his husband ordered calmly. “If you lose count, I start over.”

“Two, Sir,” the feline uttered, wincing.

The next three landed in quick succession and almost left the big cat yowling in pain. Tears welled up in the corner of his eyes, and yet he was as hard as he was able to get within his cage. Wetness beaded up at his tip within the confines of his cage and dripped in a long, twinkling, unbroken strand to the floor.

“Three, four, five!” Freddy forced out.

His ass already felt hot and raw from the assault, and as more blows stated to land he knew he would have trouble sitting for a day or two by the time his punishment was over. Jack stood in front of him with an obvious tent in his pants, casually massaging his clothed maleness. He was still somewhat intimidated by the chipmunk and relieved that it was his husband delivering his punishment rather than Jack. Freddy felt strangely proud that simply by being disciplined he was able to bring the other anthro sexual satisfaction. If the heavy scent of pheromones in the room were anything to judge by, the feline’s husband would be getting fucked in front of him shortly after his penalty was served. He briefly found the thought an arousing and desirable one for the first time, rather than the well of unease that normally accompanied the idea, though his enthusiasm rapidly waned once he recognized it.

Jack had undressed by the end of the punishment, with his erection on full display. He pulled Grant into the bedroom and shut the door, leaving Freddy alone rubbing his smarting backside and hearing the muffled, primal sounds of their lovemaking.

At work the following day, the tiger winced each time he had to sit down at his desk. Even with the added padding of his new underwear, the strikes from his paddling still stung. Grant had also roughly inserted a thicker plug than usual into his hole that morning as he was dressing for work, instructing him to keep it in all day. It rubbed against his prostate nonstop, causing his dick to fight against his cage off and on for hours and liberally leak pre into his diapers. He had brought a nondescript satchel for changing at work (an event which caused his heart to flutter nervously). Freddy had been directed to send a photo of his bulging, soggy diaper and ask for permission from one or both of his owners to change whenever he required one. They took their time responding to his texts and when making the embarrassing trek to the bathroom with a nearly leaking diaper hanging tenuously to his hips he made a telltale crinkle with each step he took.

The orders were humiliating but gave Freddy a thrill like he had never experienced before. He was being totally dominated like he had yearned to be months before, as well as in ways that he couldn’t have imagined. He had been effectively broken down into a sissy cuck slave, and slowly but surely his apprehension had melted into acceptance of his new station. The look of satisfaction on his mate’s face as he delivered ever harsher orders and punishments, and the visage of rapture on Grant’s face as he was being fucked by their bull made every trial worth it. And he had adapted better than he expected to being cuddled by his mate and Jack after watching them fuck most evenings. The temptation to opt out of the experimental arrangement had diminished and he scarcely thought about using his safe word anymore. 

After he got home from work, the striped submissive was quickly ushered into the bedroom where Jack was lounging in his underwear on their bed.

“You’re probably really horny by now, huh?” Grant asked him with and impish smile.

“Yes, Sir,” Freddy replied honestly. He couldn’t remember the last time he had gone so long without cumming.

“Too bad that cage isn’t coming off anytime soon,” the otter teased. “But we can play a game. You’re all stretched and ready from keeping that giant plug in all day. I’m going to have you toy with one of our dildos while you watch me and Jack blow each other. If you can manage to cum in your cage before I get him off, enjoy it. If not, well...too bad. We’re going to ramp up your training to associate all orgasms with anal pleasure, so you are going paws-free today. Jack has been trying to convince me to rivet that cage one entirely. Take off your clothes, but leave your diaper on. We don’t want to make a mess if you actually manage to cum.”

Grant knelt down behind his mate after the tiger had shed his attire and poked one claw into the plastic backing of his wet diaper. He sliced it down until there was a slit a few inches long starting just below Freddy’s tail. Several bits of damp fluff fell from the padding, but otherwise the garment remained largely intact. The mustelid then wriggled his fingers into the gap and found the wide anchor of the buttplug. He withdrew it with a swift and none-too-gentle tug, causing Freddy to yelp. Cool air caressed his stretched hole. His husband then provided him with a large dildo from the bottom drawer of their dresser. It was modeled after a horse fur with realistic veins and a medial ring, and was mottled with various shades of brown and tan. The tip was flared as if the anthro it was cast from were at the precipice of orgasm, and its base was ladened with a pair of heavy testicles to keep it pointed upright, even if it curved under its own weight. The beast was a thick eleven inches long.

Jack and Grant watched as Freddy pumped an excess of lube into his paws and ran them the length of toy, liberally greasing the shaft. He was anxious about taking cock that size, being used to what the otter had to offer. His husband was by no metric small, but the dildo was alarmingly large. He positioned himself on his knees over the silicone phallus and aimed its head at his cleft. His legs shook as he forced his body onto it, huffing with pleasure as it spread him open. The cat was able to take several inches before he needed to ease off of it and allow himself a moment to adjust before having it penetrate him again.

Satisfied with the show, the mustelid and chipmunk turned their attention toward helping one another undress. Once naked, they laid opposite each other, their erections playing at the others’ muzzle. They licked and nipped and suckled and groaned. Their paws ravished the flesh of their lover’s hips, thighs, balls, and buttocks. Freddy watched the erotic spectacle as he continued to impale himself onto the massive toy. Pent up as he was, each time the splayed crown forced its way along his prostate he felt himself unleash a splatter of pre into his diaper. His body quivered as he moaned with need.

It didn’t take him long at all to approach climax. Weeks locked in chastity while facing daily debasements caused him to whimper with want. As close as he was to filling his soggy diaper with tiger spunk, he was also frustratingly far from completion. His stifled hardness ached in its restrictive confines and he had never before came without the assistance of a paw or mouth, or the tight heat of an inviting hole. If he couldn’t make it happen soon he would lose his chance, but the ecstasy of each long thrust of the dildo was just not quite enough to get him there. The pleasure of fucking himself with the dildo was immense, though, and before long he had his paws flat on the floor between his knees in front of him to steady himself so he could do so more forcefully. His breath grew ragged and he was practically feral with his urge to cum.

The sounds of his his mate and their bull rapidly approaching their own blissful surrender sent him into a frenzy. Finally, his breath hitched and he felt his sac draw tight. With a throaty growl his body spasmed and he felt a gush of feline seed pour forth from him while he clamped his ring around the toy. It was a strange sensation to have an orgasm while flaccid, with semen oozing from his restrained cock. The viscous essence pooled in his diaper, making his sensitive, spent maleness warm and sticky.

The scent of it was unmistakable. The rush of pheromones in the air clearly had an affect on Freddy’s Masters as well. Each gripped the other’s hindquarters firmly as they moaned in unison and shot their loads, greedily swallowing down what the other gave. They collapsed into an awkward pile on the bend in the haze of their afterglow. Both cast their contented gaze toward the feline, who had only just summoned up the strength to ease himself off the cock lodged within him. He staggered over the bed on unsteady legs fell between them.

As limbs started to wrap around him from both sides, Freddy thought ‘I could get used to this.’