Jeff’s dreams that night left him shuffling from scene to scene in a haze of barely lucid consciousness. He’s riding a horse. A party at the frat house is going great, but Finn keeps asking where his dad is. He has to leave Finn behind, but he’s sure it’ll be fine. *PING* He takes a drink from a solo cup, and a hot and handsome stud winks at him. He flexes his muscles, as strong as he remembers, and the two move to a bedroom.
He’s riding a horse. Pounding the chestnut furred beauty, he finds himself roaring, over and over. He closes his eye, roars becoming weaker, each piston of hips making his powerful body feel smaller and smaller. Roars turn into mews as he looks down. *PING* He’s not fucking anyone.
He’s riding a horse. The Stallion is so much bigger than him now. Ramming him hard, the feeling is familiar. He looks around, panic sets in as he’s not in a frat anymore. The room is pink, frilly, built for a princess. He looks down at himself, his fur is pink. *PING* That seems right, he mewls in relief. He’s riding a horse, like a good princess.
The bed breaks, as does the floor, the walls, and all of the reality. He falls through the nothingness, until the darkness seems to coalesce around his ankles, slowing his descent. He’s stopped falling, but he can’t move. The darkness has turned into a muck, a slime. As he sinks into it, he feels an arm reach around him. He looks up to see his father, as faceless as he remembers. *PING* “I love you Pops.” The words are heard, but don’t leave his lips. “I love you too, son.” The sentence forms all around, reverberating as the two embrace, and submerge into the dark.
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Jeff wakes with a start, breathing and sweating equally heavily. Mind spinning, he feels mentally like he’s grasping at air, trying to remember his dream to no avail. He sighs and looks around. The room is messy, with dirty underwear and empty boxes of delivery food scattered around wherever they please. If anyone ever said this place was a barnyard, they’d be right. But it’s home, and a familiar environment for Jeff. A thought pauses in Jeff’s mind, before dissipating. Yeah, maybe he’d clean someday, but there was no rush. Hell, it was actually kinda homely to wake up with his muzzle six inches from one of Finn’s used jocks.
Jeff quietly purred at the thought, and looked around the bed pile. He checked himself, still the twunky white tiger he remembered being, though that feeling that something was lacking was hard to displace. The twins had found themselves wrapped in each other, a comfortable position for them as chest rest against chest. That was a long lasting bond nothing could compare to. Finn slept soundly, the twunky ram having rested his face in Jeff’s pit before the tiger had woken up. The odd thought the ram could use to be smaller crossed his mind, before fading into the background. Cum was still leaking out of the ram’s well used and loose tailhole, which the tiger couldn’t resist a sniff of. Chuck had really done a number on him… or was it Buck? The tiger’s head swam for a moment, before settling. It didn’t matter who was who, nobody ever remembered, least of all the two dogs. The twins weren’t all that bright, but neither was anyone else in this house.
As Jeff had his contemplative moment nose deep in Finn’s ass, the ram stirred awake, before looking over at Jeff. “Morning, slut,” Finn said with an affectionate, flirty tone.
“Morning, babe,” Jeff answered back. “How’re you feeling?”
The ram rolled over in bed, and kissed the tiger on the nose. “Pretty good, as long as you’re around.” Jeff smiled, and gave a loving peck on the chin in return. “Whatcha thinking ‘bout?” Finn asked.
Jeff had to process the question. Not much, apparently. “I feel like taking a shower, wanna join?”
Finn smiled, “Absolutely, I feel like a mess.” Jeff nodded in agreement, it turns out orgies have a way of wiping folks out and making them disheveled messes, with or without fur. Jeff looked around, ready to walk into the bathroom, before noticing the Chronivac. It had… a lot of notifications on it. A lot of changes had happened, but as Jeff tried to read it, he felt his eyes go cross as everything blurred together.
“Oh, did you just try to read that thing again? You really should stop trying, you’re just gonna get a headache,” Finn pet the tiger’s head, as a feeling of confusion rushed over him. He… couldn’t read? He tried to process the thought before a cooling wave of contented bliss washed over. Yeah, he was just kinda a dumb tiger who couldn’t read. Lots of folks can’t, Finn mostly can’t either. Pops’s the only one who can really read much of anything in this house, with Pa a distant second. And only Pops even knew how to use the dang computer. He smiled, thinking about how smart Pops is. Of course, that also made Pops kinda sad, since the rest of the house was dumb and happy.
Jeff’s happy smile melted away as he shook his head, “…Chronivac made us dumb.”
Finn shrugged, “Yeah, but we can’t do much ‘til Pops gets back. Let’s just take that shower and worry ‘bout it later.” Jeff nodded, unable to conceptualize another plan, as the two of them entered the bathroom. Surprisingly, the shared shower was fairly chaste. Memories flooded both of their minds of shower sex that… didn’t go well. More chafing and pulled fur than either ever wanted to deal with again. Better to keep that sort of thing separate from hygiene care. Still, the two washed each other off with a familiarity that suggested that they’d done this before, plenty of times. Each cleaning off every hard to reach crevice of the other, knowing how to move around each other’s bodies seamlessly in the cramped shower space.
“You stay here a lot?” Jeff asked, before receiving a bleating laugh from Finn that was… a little harder than he expected. Soon, the two finished up, spending the time to dry their fur, stepping out of the bathroom nude as can be.
Stepping down stairs, the smell of musk washed over them, as the two bottoms felt their cocks stir. They smelled men, big strong powerful sexy men. The urge to be dominated slipped into and spread over their minds, quickly washing over their minds. They smelled their dads.
The big chubby ram was barely in view sitting on the couch before Finn shouted “Daddy!” His voice was higher pitched than he’d used all morning, and he rushed over to give the man a hug and a kiss. A deep kiss even, on the lips, tongues dancing with each other. Jeff watched, that odd bit of confusion appearing before vanishing again. Finn sure did love Daddy. Hell, he loved Daddy too, but Finn usually got first dibs on the big guy.
“Hey, kiddo!” Daddy chortled as he broke off the kiss. “Wanna sit on my lap and watch TV?” Finn nodded ferociously as Daddy adjusted himself on the couch, cock straight up. “Hold on, gotta get you ready. Don’t wanna hurt you,” he said, as he took a bit of lube from a bottle by the side of the couch. (A memory floated in Jeff’s head: They had a lot of those in this house, for any place the mood strikes). The big ram fingered the smaller one’s loose asshole for a bit, Finn clearly enjoying the experience and eager to continue. Soon, they were ready, as Finn positioned himself on Daddy’s admittedly average pole, and eased himself down. Finn let out a moan of pleasure as he lowered into the big guys lap, happy to be settled into their morning routine. The two shared a kiss once he was properly hilted and turned to the TV.
Jeff strolled over and gave Finn a kiss. “Have fun babe,” He smiled, as Finn let out happy bleats from having his ass stuffed by their Daddy.
…Their Daddy? The confusion washed over him, this time lingering over a bit longer. Jeff put his paws on his head, disoriented from the crashing of memories together. Was Daddy his Daddy? But, that can’t be, Daddy is Finn’s Daddy. Daddy and Pa live together with Finn… and…
“Having a moment, kitty?” Pa asked from the doorway to the kitchen, beer in hand to start his 10AM drinking day. The big panda scratched his gut before wandering over to the other side of the couch and planting his big fat ass on it, legs spread wide showing his own beer can cock. “You know, if you want to join Finn, I’ve got a seat open. Just let me know when you’re done, I know you catch up a little later than the rest of us.” Jeff’s pupils dilated, before settling in as the memories fell into place.
Pops was on the road a lot, and him and his two college buddies, Pa and Daddy, were always real tight since their football days. The three of them managed to graduate on football scholarships despite being pretty dumb, mostly with the help of some tutors and a few bribes. All three of them made it to the NFL, but none of their careers were particularly long lasting, Pa going the longest as a blocking tight end for a few teams. After those years, Pops became a trucker, became friendly with a woman on the road, and asked her to be a surrogate for his child. Things were good until she passed, and Pops had to raise Jeff on his own. But needing to keep working his trucker job, he turned to his old friends for help, who ended up marrying and having a surrogate child of their own, Finn. The three of them decided to pool their money together and buy a house. And so, since then, Daddy and Pa have effectively been Jeff’s step-dads since he was a kitten, with Finn his step-brother. And once-secret, now open lover.
As Jeff takes a breather, he looks a Pa, big and sexy he is, his smell driving the smaller tiger giddy. “Yeah Pa, I’d love to sit on your lap.” And, after the same routine that was familiar to Daddy and Finn, Jeff took his place on Pa’s cock. Jeff sighed with relief, feeling himself filled for the first time today.
“Feeling better?” Pa asked, to Jeff’s nodding between moans. “Pops is out on a route.” He said.
“I guessed,” Jeff said between lifting himself up and down on Pa’s pole. “He send any pictures?”
Pa smirked, “Sure did. Lemme show you,” the big panda said before taking his phone from the end table, the most advanced piece of technology he could manage, and brought up the picture Pops had sent. Jeff looked over, eager to see Pops latest escapades.
In the picture, the big tiger trucker was getting his ass ate by a fat warthog in a public restroom somewhere. The Warthog has his eyes crossed, in the heaven that is Pops’ voluminous butt cheeks. Pops has his cock out on the sink counter, seemingly offering it to the viewer. It’s a real sexy view of the tiger dominating the subby warthog.
Jeff and Pa end up laughing at the same time. “Gods,” Jeff says, “Is he still pretending he’s not getting fucked by Chris at every chance he gets?”
Pa chuckles, “He still wants to be that big bad dom pretty often, but that hog’s just got his number.”
“What, think Pops is gonna marry him?”
“HA!” Pa laughs, “Only if Chris gets him to take their honeymoon in a gloryhole. Its funny too, Chris is one of the most subby guys I know, but he gets Pops to just bend over like his personal sow.”
Something about thinking of Pops as a submissive little sow to a pit stop whore was... strangely enticing to Jeff. Pops stuffed full of boar cum like he's holding a litter, gazing adoringly at his porcine lover. He didn’t know why he like thinking of his father that way, but that twisted thought burrowed into his mind as a rush of lust, as he moans out loud.
“Speaking of subby, how’s the training going? The twins treating you right?” Pa’s question startled Jeff.
“Training?” Jeff asked.
“Oh, you’re behind. Don’t worry, I’ll wait for you to remember your dreams of being a sissy little pink princess for some lucky man,” Pa said with a smirk.
Jeff heard a *PING* from upstairs. Reality was adjusting again, was that true? Was that what he wanted...?