F.A.P.S.
Hey guys,
This is a (long overdue!) commission for Dotbat, featuring his original character, Taw Echo. I've never written about battos or chastity before, so definitely some new territory trod with this one.
Let me know what you guys think, and be sure to send through ideas as you have them. I'm actually working on a few more projects when I find the time, including Blood of Predation, a The Guy in Charge sequel, and another as yet unnamed piece about gangbanging. Fun times to be had, certainly.
Keep your eyes out for another post as well, highlighting some changes to commission format. I'm finding I don't exactly have as much time as I'd like to crank out smut anymore, so it should (hopefully) help improve my production times.
Enjoy~
As the bell rang, the students of Furrington-Animalia Practitioner School's Biochemistry II class hurriedly gathered their things in a chorus of zippers zipping and folders folding.
Doctor Wright, the golden labrador of the science wing, pinched the bridge of his snout with a paw.
"We have a test on nitrogen-fixing bacteria Monday - I hope you're all prepared for it with how quickly you're leaving," he chided, but to no response.
Rivers of students flowed past him in complete disregard. It was Friday, after all - who cared?
"I won't be curving any grades this time," the dog-professor warned as a few stragglers zipped by. "Study, study, study!"
Taw, a young bat in his first year of college, slid his books gingerly into a bag. His head spun with chemical names and the biological processes of squirmy things in the dirt. He muttered mnemonic devices to himself as he packed up; he simply couldn't afford to do poorly on this next test.
His desk creaked suddenly under the weight of his professor's hip.
Taw jumped.
"Mr. Echo," the Doctor addressed him sternly. His arms were crossed, and his face drawn into a disapproving frown.
"I, uh--" he squeaked. "Uh... yes, professor?"
He knew perfectly well what this was about.
"I'd like a word with you at my desk, if you don't have any place to be in a hurry." Doctor Wright invited him with a gesture toward the front of the class. His deep, brown eyes set into Taw's; they left no room for refusal.
"Uh, yeah, Doc..." Taw said. He shrank into his desk, ears folded. "I'll... be right there."
Slinging his backpack, heavy with textbooks on the miracles of amoebas, over his shoulder, he followed meekly behind his professor, where the professor's behind was anything but meek.
See, for an older guy, Doctor Wright had a pretty nice ass. That's kind of what he liked about him.
It was also kind of the problem.
But this guy with a nice ass was about to give him a pretty real talking-to - he could feel it in his batty ears.
The professor flopped into a spinning chair and sifted through a small stack of papers on his desk. He sucked his teeth. "Echo, Echo, Echo..."
Thumbing through a litany of names, he selected a page which he had marked specially with a sticky note. He laid it out, in all of its barren glory, to openly bear Taw's shame.
The only writing on the test was Taw's name in delicate hand at the top. A vast expanse of empty, virginal paper stretched the rest of it.
"You got into FAPS on a scholarship," Professor Wright said flatly. He tapped a claw against the desk emphatically. "You were my favorite student last semester. Can you explain this to me?"
Taw's eyed the blanks with the same timidity as the day of the test. "I, uh... I didn't know it."
Professor Wright snorted. "Taw, I could have told you that. I thought maybe this was a joke of some sort, but I find you've been falling behind on the online work, too."
The batty boy stood, shoulders slumped, unresponsive.
He sighed. "Are you struggling with your course load, Mr. Echo?"
Taw pulled on the green tie of his uniform. Gosh, it was hot in here.
"No, sir."
"No?" The professor made no attempt to hide his surprise. His graying muzzle curled into a grimace as he tried to make sense of this. "So you're fine, then? You hand in an empty exam, you claim you don't know any of the material, and... you're somehow fine with your course load?"
The bat's cheeks burned bright red.
"Yes," he squeaked. "I'm fine, Professor. I'll try harder, that's all."
"I would believe you if you were trying at all," he answered, tossing the empty pages into a wastebasket. "You know I can't let you re-take that, right?"
Taw gave a small nod, ears folded.
Professor Wright tapped a footpaw against the edge of his desk as he regarded the bat boy for a moment. Sitting forward, he motioned to the boy's bag.
"I want to see your notes, Taw," he said.
Taw swallowed and gripped his bag tightly. "That's not necessary, Prof--"
"Taw," Mr. Wright repeated, "your notes."
The bat shook his head and went bright red.
"No, sir."
Again, the Professor was smacked with surprise.
"Alright, Taw," he said, leaning back into the spin chair. "That's fine. But if you don't let me see your notes, I'll fail you. You've certainly got the grades for it."
The bat whined. "That's not fair, Professor--"
"Just give me your notes, Echo."
Timidly, Taw reached into his bag and retrieved a blue-splattered notebook. He held it up to the professor's view and, after a moment's hesitation, offered it to him.
Professor Wright opened the notebook to the first page. It was written in a clean, precise hand in different pen colors to differentiate concepts. Small, meticulous footnotes filled the spaces from top to bottom.
His eyes snapped to the boy.
"First semester's notes. Perfect, I have to say. Not surprising..." As he turned the pages, small doodles began to appear in the margins.
The instructor laughed. "You're quite a talented cartoonist, Taw," he remarked. "Who knew?"
The batty boy pulled his ears down to hide his eyes. A small whimper came from him.
As he progressed through the notebook, the notes became fewer, and the doodles more elaborate. His eyes squinted as a realization came over him.
"Taw, is that supposed to be me?" he asked, pointing to a particularly detailed drawing of a dog-fur with a tie.
The bat nodded without saying anything, tucking his face further into his ears.
"Well, I... I suppose that's flattering," he grinned. "You really get my jawline, yeah? But you know, I don't think--whoa--"
The doodles took a sudden turn into lewd territory. Mouth agape, he flipped page after page of small bat boys bent over desks, dogtors hilted to the knot inside them, maws full of dog dick, scenes of paddles and chalkboards with "I am a slutty bat boi" written on them.
His eyes flicked over to Taw for a moment, burrowing into him, and then back at the pages. Slowly, methodically, he turned the pages and took in each picture.
"This is..." he paused, searching for the words, "...unexpected from you, Mr. Echo."
Taw tapped his forehead against his professor's desk and let out an anxious whimper.
"Professor, I really didn't want to--"
"I want it, too."
Taw looked up as if he had just been smacked in the face. What?
Doctor Wright repeated himself. "I want it too, Taw. You're an attractive young bat, you're a good kid. Most importantly, you're over 18."
His little batty heart leapt into his throat as he processed his dog professor's words.
"I-I-" he stammered.
"Tell you what," the professor said, slapping the notebook onto his desk. He leaned back into his swivel chair and steepled his paws in deep thought. Considering him with sharp eyes, lips pursed, he began, "I'll work with you. I don't want to see a rising star at FAPS go to waste, you hear me?"
Taw nodded, cheeks burning red.
"I will control your habits from now on, with a view of improving your lifestyle and, therefore, your grades. I'll give you the outlet you so clearly need," he said, picking up the notebook and giving it a demonstrative shake. "But you need to perform. You're a smart kid, Echo. I'd hate to see a good mind go to waste."
The bat boy swallowed, hard. "Yes, sir."
"No, no; I'm not 'sir' anymore," he said, sliding opening a compartment of his desk. "Nor am I 'professor,' or even 'doctor.'"
Taw stared blankly, fidgeting with his paws.
"What should I call you then, uhhh..."
"'Daddy,'" he said simply. From the depths of a deep, tin drawer, he drew out a folded, white square, and plopped it right over the blue-spattered notebook. "You will call me 'daddy.'"
Taw bunched his paws over his mouth, which had broken into a massive grin of disbelief. His eyes disappeared into his charcoal cheeks.
"I'm... sorry?"
"You'll call me 'daddy,'" he repeated, "And you'll wear these until you've earned your A."
"What are 'these'...?" Taw asked, patting the strange square. It was made with a soft plastic. He turned it around, and the words "baby" in child blocks told him everything he needed to know.
He gasped. "Sir..."
"You're not catching on very quickly, are you, Mr. Echo?" the professor said dryly.
"...d-...daddy..."
"Yes," he said, unfolding the thing. "This is a diaper. I meant it when I said I would control your habits. You will not be able to so much as stand at a urinal without my say so. Am I clear?"
"Yes, Doct--er, daddy."
The lab grinned broadly. "Very good; you can learn. Now, drop your pants."
"Excuse me--?"
"Drop them, Taw; I have a class in 20."
Taw stood, timidly, fingering the pockets of his uniform slacks. He looked into Doctor Wright's deep, brown eyes, and found not an inch of insincerity in them. Gingerly, he shuffled them down, and cupped the bump in his boxers underneath.
"Oh, you wanted to be bent over, boy," the dog chuckled, bopping the little bat on the head with the pamper. "Don't hide that from me. Take off those undies - which you are _clearly_not big enough to wear anymore."
"But sir--"
"And we were making progress, too!" The lab held balled paws at his hips.
"But - but - daddy, I--"
"Oh, give me a break--" the professor said, rolling his eyes. With a single paw, he tore the boy's underwear down, exposing his little breeding tool. The little bat it held in his paws with a deep blush in his face.
"Look at that thing," he joked. "You've got a third pinkie, batty boy."
Taw's ears swooped to touch his shoulders. He gripped his meager package tighter.
"Now lay out the floor, before my students get in here," he said, snapping his fingers and pointing down at the tiles. "Come on."
Taw obliged, his buttcheeks tightening against the icy floor. "It's cold--"
"We'll only be a minute, kiddo."
True to his word, he slid the diaper under the bat's bum, with great care for symmetry and all the deftness of an expert parent. Taw marvelled at the thickness of the padding under him as his professor shifted it meticulously under him.
From the compartment in his desk, the professor drew a few more items:
Lotion, which he used to give Taw a good rub-down. He took his little piece - a thumb, if anything - into the tube of his paw and gave it a good slick of baby lotion, for freshness, and then rubbed down his balls and little butt.
Baby powder, which he spritzed over his crotch, and gave an equally suggestive rub-down over his crotch and balls, handling them with great care and firmness. Satisfied with the dusting, he produced...
A strange, pink device. It looked like a...
Oh.
"Prof--Daddy, I don't--"
"Shh, batty boy," he crooned. He unclasped the cage and set it over the boy's small member, which he closed in with a click. At the turn of a key, the cage tightened and could not be moved. Satisfied with the tightness - and with a squeak from the bat - he gave a small smack on his rear. "There we go. And one more thing..."
Taw knew better than to protest further at this point. His eyes turned upward at his 'daddy,' quivering with a mixture of anticipation and anxiety.
He gloved a paw, snapping it emphatically, and tore open the corner of some nondescript packet. A puddle of clear ooze splashed into his paw, which he promptly slathered over an object - like a purple banana - until it shined with...
Lubricant.
Ah, boy.
With great care, the care known only to doctors of microbiology, he slipped the thing into Taw's puckered star, and with no small resistance.
"Ease up, batty boy," he ordered. "It's going in whether you want it to or not."
"Yes, si--daddy."
The boy's uniform tie, a deep green, pushed into his face as his professor slid the toy further into him, spreading his virginal cheeks, driving them open like a wedge. He let out a groan as his backdoor was violated and grimaced pitifully.
"That's it, baby boy," the professor reassured him, rubbing his little tummy with an un-gloved paw. "Almost there."
Finally, it hilted at a cross, and the device was set. A knob of rubber was all that protruded from his little hole, and even this was pushed into him as the doctor drew up the diaper and pulled it taut against him. With expert placement, he folded the tapes over the front panel of the diaper and tested the legholes with a claw.
"There we are!" he said at last, giving the batty boy a pat on his dildo'd bum.
Taw let out a small squeak of discomfort and blushed fiercely. "How long am I--"
"--Until your grades improve," the professor said matter-of-factly, drawing off his glove and disposing of it in a lab waste bin. "You'll be under my control until I feel your scholarship was actually worth giving."
Taw cocked his head and set his large, blue eyes on his professor. Sure, he wanted a good time with this guy, but not like this...
"I think it goes without saying," Doctor Wright said, lifting himself by the knees, "that you will not piddle, cum, eat, or sleep without my approval." He slipped a golden paw into a pocket in his pants, never taking his eyes off the little bat.
Suddenly, the small bump over Taw's bum, the knob of the toy tented in his pampers, grew and shrank rhythmically. The little batty boy leaned forward, on all fours, as this strange device fucked him. A string of drool hung from a single, sharp canine as his eyes rolled back into his head.
"Professor..."
Doctor Wright folded his arms, phone in paw. He tapped a foot impatiently and circled over the screen of his phone, which increased the fuck-rate of the toy.
It pumped in and out of the little batty boy, crinkling the outer plastic and eliciting a long, drawn moan from him. He pressed his head into the tiles, cushioned by an ear, and hiked his rear into the air as it did its work.
"Pro... fessor..." he groaned.
And, suddenly, the fucking stopped.
"Alright, Mr. Echo," the dogtor said, gathering up the batty boy's slacks in paws. "It seems you're not picking up this lesson very quickly. I have a feeling this'll help: I want you to return to your dorm."
Taw looked up at his daddy from the cold tiles below. He lowered his rear, and held out a paw for his slacks. "Yes, si--daddy."
"No, no-no," Doctor Wright scolded, returning to the compartment of his desk. He dropped the bunched pants in and gestured to the door. "Your pants are mine, now."
"But professor--!"
Doctor Wright bristled for a moment before taking a seat at his desk. "You have my number from the syllabus, right?"
Taw, a bright red even under his deep, gray fur, nodded timidly.
"Good," he said. He opened a binder with lesson notes. "You will ask me for permission to urinate, to eat, and when to go to bed. My answers will be final; don't it make it worse for yourself by fighting it."
The little batty boy swallowed and nodded his acknowledgment.
"Yes, daddy."
The golden lab flashed a smile at the boy, who was just coming to his feet. He gave a sidelong glance and returned to his notes. "See? This isn't so hard. Now, off with you - I have a class to teach."
Taw skittered through the halls, drawing his large, batty ears over his eyes. Passing students snickered and pointed at his puffy pants as he went, and more than once, someone smacked him on his diapered ass.
"Nice huggies, bro!" one of the jocks called out.
"You in home ec?" another one said.
Taw's face retreated deeper into his ears, and finally, he arrived at the cafeteria. It was a large room, a sea of green uniforms with a buzz of chatter resounding overhead.
With little black paws over his crinkly package, the batty boy stepped into line for food.
A particularly chatty group of gator girls made a double-take at him, and, having broken their lively conversation, could only stop and stare at him as the line moved painfully along.
Taw was utterly, thoroughly humiliated. His cheeks blazed red, and he looked away, out into the vast expanse of green jackets, and pretended none of this was happening.
Then, a thought occurred to him.
He pulled his phone out of his pocket and put together a text:
Daddy, I'm at the cafeteria for lunch. Is that ok?
The text sent off with a whir and he turned his attention back to the line. The gators were still staring, and exchanged chuckles and glances at each other. Some pointed at him and whispered.
Taw turned around to avoid their strange looks, and saw a group of noisy guys in full FAPS football regalia approaching. They pushed each other, and whooped, and had so much testosterone they could send an entire kindergarten class into puberty. By the grass stains on their gear and their ruffled, sticky headfur, it looked like they just got out of practice.
The largest of them, a horse, was by far the loudest. He was talking mad shit on one of the wide receivers, pushing his shoulders and giving him rough, brotherly punches to the arm.
Taw's heart sank. Fuck.
He turned to face the wall, his heart hammering in his throat, and hoped beyond hope that they wouldn't take notice.
But this is a smut story, so of course they did.
"Hey, bro," the horse said, hanging an arm over his tiny shoulder. "I like your underwear. Did mommy forget to pack your pants today?"
The football team erupted into laughter and commented on how cute his pampers were. Taw withdrew once again into his ears.
"Man," the horse said, scratching his massive length through muddied, white pants. "And I was busting for a leak, too."
Taw's eyes shot wide open, and he made to step away -
- but the horse took him by the paw, and said, turning to the other guys, "Hey, dudes, hold batbaby down for me."
Taw kicked and tried to break free of his grip, but he was significantly bigger and stronger. "Please don't!" he cried, shaking his paw feebly. Tears welled up in his eyes.
The horse turned him around with a jerk of his arm, pressing his face into a wall. A tiger in the group took him by an arm, wing membrane and all, and a wolf crouched down, holding his footpaws down with his huge arms. His other arm was pinned by the shoulder of a red dragon. It was all they could to keep him still, laughing as hard as they were.
The horse untied the strings on his football pants and slipped the crotch cup out from them. A massive, swollen dick flopped out, hanging like a pendulum between his muscular thighs.
Before Taw could cry out, the dragon snaked crimson claws between his head and the wall and wrapped them around his maw. His words came out as a desperate squeak from his snout.
"Hey, Brodie, open 'im up for me," the horse said, scratching the v of his crotch.
The wolf maneuvered one arm to pin down both of his footpaws and peeled back the elastic of his diaper. "Don't spray me, dude," he joked.
The horse leaned into an elbow on the wall just above Taw's head, and with a long, drawn sigh, a powerful stream of hot, jock piss splashed noisily against his back. With a gurgle, pungent urine trailed into the pocket of his diaper, right into the thirsty padding inside.
Taw let out a whimper as the strong-smelling piss crept into the front of his diaper, pooling for a moment around his caged and twitching cock, before absorbing into the padding.
And it gave no signs of letting up.
The other guys marvelled at how long this horse's piss lasted. The tiger held his jaw slack and guffawed stupidly, saying, "Like a fuckin' racehorse, bro!"
With nowhere to absorb quick enough, the piss bled out into Taw's white dress shirt and on his green tie. Tears rolled down his face as the torrent of jock juice slowed to a trickle, and then final a couple, stray drops. Releasing the elastic on his huggies, the horse stepped back to admire the bloated work of a long day of football and sports drinks.
"Dude," he said, quite pleased with himself. "Might wanna get mommy to change your pampers, little bro."
Taw groaned with humiliation. The swollen piss-sack between his legs dripped a couple drops, but was otherwise very well-contained, once the gel had time to absorb.
The guys let go, and by this point, the line had progressed to the food. Like the football players they were, they jostled past the poor batty boy and laughed obnoxiously, pushing, shoving and smacking each other on the asses in a show of ultimate masculinity.
Taw turned around, and a nearby table were pointing and laughing. A couple of them were texting furiously, others showing each other what looked like a video of the whole ordeal.
Fucking great.
Straightening his soggy tie, the bat boy waddled back into line. A vibration in his pocket took his attention away from his current predicament, if only for a second.
His phone read:
Yes, but I want you to cut the food into small pieces before you eat it. I want proof. - Daddy
Taw blushed and stepped up to order his lunch.
Painfully aware of how heavy his rear was, Taw stepped timidly between tables. The more he travelled, the more attention he drew to himself, and the more people laughed at him.
Finally, at the far end of the cafeteria, he took his seat with a sickening squelch of his pants. He settled into the chunky diaper-sap of another fur's piss, and it made his fur crawl.
A trio of freshmen sat there, enjoying a quiet conversation at first, but then the three eyed the unfortunate, pissy specimen that invaded their privacy.
What appeared to be the leader of them, a blond corgi, eyed him up and down. With a sneer, he remarked: "You're one of those weird furries, aren't you?"
Taw gave a dejected sigh and answered, fumbling for words, "I'm just... they're hazing me."
Another of them, a black cat, spluttered with laughter. He tossed his snout at the corgi. "Casper, they're 'hazing' him."
The three chuckled and turned to their meals. The cat snapped a sneaky shot with his camera and snickered hysterically into the screen before completely ignoring the poor bat-boy.
Taw looked down at his tray. For such a prestigious school, they could probably afford to up their lunch game. He ordered a turkey and swiss sandwich, but the cardboard on his tray was little more than shrivelled mystery meat with putrid tomato on stale bread.
He eyed his phone.
I want proof.
With a huff, he set to work cutting up the gross thing, knife over fork, until it was little bite-size crouton morsels, likely unfit for furry consumption. He snapped a pic of his handiwork and sent it off to daddy.
Moments later, his phone dinged.
I want to see you in the picture, Mr. Echo.
Taw rolled his eyes and held a piece of the gross-ass cafeteria food to his open maw. Satisfied with the angle, he took a pic.
The trio of furs next to him burst into poorly-stifled laughter.
"The fuck is he doing?" one of them asked.
The bat-boy's ears flushed pink to match his reddening cheeks, and he sent off the ridiculous picture. With that out of the way, he began to slowly, thoughtfully, eat his lunch. It really was as gross as it looked.
After a time, the trio got up to throw out their trays, joking and laughing as they passed Taw. With the two ahead of him, the corgi hung back and tapped the bat on the shoulder.
"Hey," he said, voice low. "I like your pants." With that, and a weak smile, he headed off with his classmates.
Taw finished his lunch in silence and set off for his dorm.
That night, Taw sat on his bed on a pillow of fermenting piss. He really started to smell, now, and desperately needed a change. But he knew if he were to take it off without daddy's permission, he would be in an even worse position.
The bat-boy whipped out his phone and tacked away a message:
Hi, daddy. Had an incident at the cafeteria... football players kind of 'helped' me with my diaper. Just wondering if it's okay to change? I'm starting to smell like horse, now...
Agonizing moments ticked over into agonizing minutes. Taw laid back on his bed, shirtless now, and traced the flower-like shape of his fan.
Finally, a ding.
No. - Daddy
"The fuck?" he whispered to himself. "What do you mean 'no?'"
Taw rolled over onto his belly and punched out another message.
Daddy, I'm afraid to leak. I smell like horse jock and I'm cold and uncomfortable and would just really appreciate a change.
He dashed his phone against a bedside table and buried his maw into the pillow. With a groan of frustration, he punched his bed and laid his ears out flat.
Some time passed, and a response didn't come.
Taw picked up his phone again, propped up on his pillow and squinted. "What could you possibly be doing right now, professor? Answer meee..."
And then, the piece in his rear began to bob. In and out it pumped, in long, firm thrusts, like a piston hidden behind a wall of swollen plastic.
Taw blushed bright red and hiked his rear up, letting the toy work him over in his pissy pants. His cock strained against its cage as his 'daddy' teased him remotely. He reached a paw under himself, groping the squishy bag between his legs, and rocked into it a bit.
With the cage on, it was no use.
He shuddered as the toy picked up pace, hitting his sweet spot again and again and again. His pants crinkled as it went.
The bat-boy sat up and rode it as it fucked him, letting his tongue loll out of his charcoal maw. The heavy, pungent gel squished not unpleasantly under him as he rode the toy-dick, and he imagined it was his daddy's lap he was sitting in. His cocklet ached against its cage.
Then, the phone dinged.
Taw unlocked the screen, grinding doggedly against daddy's dong.
I left a present for you.
A knock at door signalled an end to the toy-fucking. Taw's large, batty ears twitched curiously.
With some difficulty, he slid off the bed and waddled to the door. Cracking it open, he saw a pack of diapers, with a note on the top that rad:
Study hard, kiddo, and you might not need these anymore.
He looked this way and that down the hallway, but Doctor Wright was nowhere to be seen. Frowning, he took the package in, and gratefully changed himself into a fresh diadee.
The weekend was a long one. Doctor Wright had a paw in everything that he did. From eating, to sleeping, to piddling, he could no longer make decisions for himself. His studies came with halfhourly updates, and his diapers quarterhourly.
Monday morning came and went.
Taw had bought himself a coffee and downed most of it. It was only at the last drop that he regretted drinking it; daddy was serious, after all, about his diapering.
Taw tapped his pen against paper. He knew this: nitrogen-fixing bacteria are useful! They're good! They're...
As he fidgeted, a rivulet of warm urine slipped down his leg and pooled at his footpaw. Frightened, he felt his calf to make sure no bugs were crawling up its length, and squeaked with realization.
"Daddy--Professor--"
His face went bright red as he struggled with how to name his caretaker. On the one paw, he had his orders - on the other, well: they were in public. Doctor wright looked up at him from under a heavy brow of blond fur.
"Mr. Echo, do you have a problem?"
"May I use the bathroom, sir...?"
The labrador gave no answer and resumed reading essays from the very students that sat in front of him.
Taw's ears flicked in anticipation as his member fought against the confines of his cage.
"Sir, I--"
"This is a test, Mr. Echo," the professor said at last. "No; you are not excused to use the restroom. I count on my students to have the foresight to use the facilities before grade-defining exams like this."
"But dadd--sir, I--"
A vibration inside him stopped him in his tracks. His peers cast glances at him, snickering to themselves and each other at the spectacle he'd made. Daddy? they imitated. Daddy, daddy!
The piece rumbled inside him in sharp throbs. Suddenly, he felt the purple banana curve outward, slithering through the mass bloated with piss under him, before driving its quivering self back home.
Taw lifted himself in his seat, chittering in a panic, as it tented outward into another bulge in his dripping rear before sinking with a slow, inexorable pulse. Through his darkened slacks, the shape of a well-used diaper showed through, like a rising loaf of bread pinched at the twine of his legholes. He pressed little paws into his forehead, wrapping himself in the membrane of his wings, as the toy beat inside him with a visible rhythm, fucking him as he longed for daddy to do.
Whatever quiet Dr. Wright intended to keep in class at this stage was no longer possible. The room erupted into laughter. Wads of paper brushed against Taw's enormous ears as they sailed by; larger furs - jocks - pointed and jeered, saying 'Taw, your tampon's slipping out!' Those closest to him tousled and pulled his headfur, picked at his clothes, stuck notes to his uniform.
Dr. Wright shot up at his seat and slammed a paw into his desk.
'That's enough!' he snarled. 'All of you - submit your exams as they are. I will not be disrespected like this.'
The room cleared out quickly. Taw was shoved as the larger guys moved past. He picked paperclips out of his headfur and a staple out of his collar.
He shrunk as he was the last student remaining in the room. The vibrating stopped.
Daddy Wright seethed.
'The whole point of this exercise, Mr. Echo,' he began, ruffling the stack of exams in a golden paw, 'was so that you could improve your grades.'
The little batty boy lowered his head and said nothing.
'I'm afraid we're going to need to extend this arrangement.'
Taw looked up at him with huge eyes and squeaked. 'But sir, I did everything you've asked me to--'
Doctor Wright waved him off. 'We'll let the grades decide. Now, if you'll excuse me...'
The lab slunk into his chair and put on a pair of bifocals. Large, skittering notes ripped angrily across the pages of his students' exams.
Gathering his exam and his belongings, the diaper-heavy bat lifted himself from his seat and gingerly lay the documents on his daddy's desk. He gave a sheepish smile, ears twitching, and turned for the door.
'I have not dismissed you.'
'Sir, I really--'
'Sir?'
Taw sucked in a breath and snapped, 'Daddy, I need a fucking change.'
The lab's brown eyes flicked up at his student. He regarded him coolly before setting his glasses to the side.
'Come here, Mr. Echo.'
His heart sank into his stomach. Ohhh, he did it now.
The little bat-boy did as he was told. Waddling carefully around the desk, he stood at the lab's side, dwarfed by his size even as he remained seated. His head hung shamefully.
Doctor Wright patted his knee wordlessly, and Taw obeyed.
Delicately, he lowered his heavy rear onto daddy's knee with a noisy squelch of diaper-pulp. Rivers of dark urine showed on his slacks as daddy felt him with a paw.
'Hmm...' he mused, as if Taw's sogginess were actually a question. 'I think a certain little boy had an accident.'
Taw pulled his ears over his eyes as daddy gave his a knee a jerk, sending the toy into his tight rectum. He squeaked.
Doctor Wright rested his chin on Taw's head and slid a paw down over his front. He squeezed the massive, pissy bulge and flared his nostrils. 'But I don't think a little boy needs a change just yet.'
He bounced Taw on his knee, fucking him with every spring.
'Little boys don't use those words,' he whispered. The gray hairs on Taw's neck stood at attention. 'And little boys don't decide when their pee-tails need to be changed.'
Taw's dicklet ached in his cage as the toy pounded him inside his squishies. He let out a low, long moan in spite of himself.
'Can you tell me who decides that?'
The batty boy moaned again. 'D...da--'
'I can't hear you, Mr. Echo.'
'Daddy does...'
'And who,' he pressed on, squeezing Echo's soggy pampers, 'is just a little, piddly diaper-bat?'
'I am...'
'You're what, Mr. Echo?'
'A little...'
Suddenly, Doctor Wright took Taw's paw in his much larger paw and pulled it behind him. The bat groped, unsure of what was happening, until he found it - the twitching contour of his dick. It was massive, he realized; bigger than he had fantasized.
The boy wheezed and continued, more for himself than for his daddy, 'A little, piddly diaper-bat...'
'That's right,' whispered the lab. He unzipped his fly and let his red hotdog of a dog member flop out. It pressed against Taw's soaked slacks.
The seams of the bat-boy's pants couldn't handle the bloated diaper-jelly that bulged out from inside it, and with the help of a claw from a certain golden lab, the stitching frayed and opened quite easily. A little hole - a pocket, really - gave a glimpse of a glistening, yellow piss-bag underneath.
The Doctor breathed heavily, and popped a claw into plastic weakened by its straining. Jelly beads rushed out into his lap, but it only drove him on. He found the bump inside the inner fabric, and tore in deeper.
The bat meeped as he pressed the knob of the toy into him, and then seized it in his claws. Quite forcefully, he pulled it out, and set it on his desk. He took his massive cock in paw and gave it a cheeky stroke before aligning it with the many holes of the batty-boy's rear.
Taw groaned into his ears as his piece met his quivering hole. He relaxed - as best as he could - into him, hoping beyond hope he could take this doctor dick.
It was slow-going at first; the little bat-boy had never been fucked before, and this was an exceptional dick, as dicks go. For an annoyed doctor, daddy was gentle, and slow, and eased his veiny, red tool into his boy-pocket.
Taw bit his lip as the dog hilted inside him. This was the stuff of college doodles.
With no need for encouragement, the bat rode his daddy's dick through a heavy layer of swollen padding, his slacks screaming as its seams struggled to contain his pissy pampers. His dick ached in its cage as the sagging piss-bag squished against it with every long, hot push.
The labrador, driven by instinct, held the boy at his hips and pushed him into his dick. His pelvis popped as he leaned back in his chair, letting his crimson pole stand alone in its assault on that padded ass.
He began to moan in a quivering tone as dog seed built in his knot. He wrapped his large, blond arms around his student and thrust his throbbing piece into him, the boy who was failing his class. Taw's ears flicked outward as he released them, and he arched his little back as his rump rode daddy's swollen dick.
With a final, exhausting groan, Doctor Wright blew load after load of his dog-spoo into his baby's rear. Paws splayed on the small of his back, he let his tongue loll from his maw as his eyes rolled into his head. He stood, finally, batty boy still on his dick, and folded him over the end of his desk. With a final, shivering thrust, he packed his sloppy dog-cum deeper into the bat at the end of his red rocket. The boy's pampers squished noisily in protest, but accommodated.
Precum oozed out of the boy as he curled a paw into daddy's. It was blissful, he thought, bent over a desk like this, letting his daddy's knot untie itself.
'Mr. Echo,' he whispered, leaning into his student, 'I look forward to seeing you next semester.'