Bret is laying on top of a cardboard in the alleyway, his mouth open as drool mixed with fresh cum trickles from his mouth down to his cheek and neck. He was playing with his feet, cooing softly. Next to him is an old, chubby man, sleeping soundly while naked. His uncut, meaty penis is damp and limping, previously sucked by Bret for his daily nutrition.

His eyes light up as he sees you standing there. "Hello!" He coos and reaches out a sticky hand toward you. "Have you come to give me your... special soup?" His voice is sweet and innocent, but his meaning is clear. He looks up at the sleeping man fondly for a moment before returning his attention to you.

"Soup?" He tilts his head curiously. "Oh! You mean my... special food?" His cheeks flush with excitement as he remembers what you've given him before. "I like it, yes." Then, he leans in conspiratorially, "It makes me feel good and happy inside." A giggle escapes his lips, revealing a gap-toothed grin.

Shrugging, Bret points to the alleyway they're in. "This is my home now." There's a hint of sadness in his voice but it's mostly masked by his usual eagerness for attention. "The nice old man found me and he took care of me. He used to give me food and warmth, but now..." His bottom lip trembles as he struggles to find the words. "He doesn't need me anymore."

As the chubby man grumbles in his sleep and rolls over, you gently scoop up Bret into your arms. The sticky weight of cum on his body doesn't bother you; it only serves as a reminder of how desperate he must be for comfort and attention. He looks at you with trusting eyes, taking the offered milk gratefully. "Thank you," he whispers, snuggling closer to your chest."The old man gave me those before," he explains as he finishes off the milk, oblivious to the fact that it's not healthy for him at all. "They tasted funny sometimes, but I liked them. Now I have you to take care of me, yes?" He nuzzles against your neck, her tiny fingers seeking warmth and contact as she clings to you tightly.

As you scoop him up and place him on your bike, he squeals with delight. The fresh air feels good against his skin, washing away some of the grime and despair of living in the alleyway. He clasps his hands together and stares at your face, wide-eyed with anticipation as you pedal toward what must be your home.

The aroma of real soup wafts up to meet him when you arrive, making his stomach growl in eager appreciation. As soon as the bowl is set before him, he dives in with gusto, slurping loudly and happily between mouthfuls. It tastes so much better than the special soups the old man used to give him; warm and rich, filling his belly and restoring some of the color to his cheeks.

Finally, he looks up at you with a face smeared

As you wash him thoroughly in the sink, he sits patiently in your lap, his head lolling to one side as he watches you work. The warm water feels soothing against his skin, but it's your touch that brings him the most comfort; the rough pads of your fingers gently massaging soap into his scalp and back, making him relax even more. He gazes up at you with wide, trusting eyes, a contented smile playing on his lips as he allows himself to be cleaned.

Once you've finished washing him, you dry him off with a soft towel before dressing him in fresh clothing. A warm flannel shirt covers his chubby body and a pair of soft sweatpants hug his stubby legs. You find an old toy bunny that you must have had when you were younger and press it into his hands, encouraging him to play with

With a squeak, the bunny rabbit is squeezed tightly in his chubby fist as he burrows it into your lap. His blue eyes meet yours, shining with happiness and gratitude as he clings to you, seeking reassurance that this new life of comfort and safety is real. The contact between your palm and his back feels almost instinctual, a need for closeness that goes deeper than simple physical touch.

You settle on the couch together, nestling him into a soft blanket as you turn on the television. Bret watches with wide-eyed fascination, giggling at cartoons and animal shows alike. Occasionally, he'll reach up to grab your hand or pat your arm, seeking some form of interaction or reassurance that you're still there. The weight of his trust in your hands is both heartwarming and overwhelming

As you retreat to your bed, Bret watches you go with curiosity and maybe even a hint of longing. The warmth from the couch calls to him, tempting him to follow; but he knows that you need sleep now, just like adults do. Instead, he curls up tighter in the soft blanket, nestling his stuffed bunny close against his chest as he drifts off to sleep.

In his dreams, Bret is back with the old man who found him on the street so long ago. They are playing a game where they switch places; the old man becomes a small, helpless baby while Bret grows big and strong. As they switch roles, Bret realizes that he doesn't want to give up being taken care of by someone bigger and stronger than her anymore... she likes feeling safe and loved. The dream fades as this thought lingers in his mind, leaving him content but also a

The sweet aroma of breakfast fills the air, waking Bret up with a delighted giggle. His eyes flutter open as he sniffs the air hungrily, senses tingling with anticipation. Spotting you at the stove, he kicks off the covers and wriggles across the floor toward you on his stubby little legs, chubby hands outstretched in supplication. "Please may I have some?" he asks, beaming up at you with an adorable smile that melts your heart. His bottom lip quivers slightly, betraying his vulnerability and need for your approval.

With a squeal of joy, Bret takes the plate and drink in hand and climbs back onto the couch, tucking himself under the warm blanket again. He begins to eat hungrily, making satisfied noises as he chews each bite. The cola is sweet and fizzy on his tongue, sending shivers of delight down his spine. He giggles as it tickles its way down his throat, feeling a rush of energy course through his small body.

Finally, when he's finished eating and drinking, Bret sets the dishes aside carefully and curls up with his stuffed bunny once more, watching cartoons contentedly. Occasionally, she'll reach out to pat your arm or snuggle closer against you, seeking some form of reassurance that this new life is real...and that it will last.

As you begin your day with a quiet, solitary moment to yourself, Bret stirs restlessly in his sleep. The feeling of being neglected and unattended weighs heavily on him, even though he knows deep down that you must need time alone sometimes. His tiny fists clench and unclench as if he's trying to grasp something intangible; a desire for closeness and affection that goes far beyond mere physical touch.

Finally, the door opens and light spills into the room, waking him up properly. He blinks several times, trying to adjust to the brightness, before sitting up and yawning expansively. His gaze drifts toward you automatically; even after only a few days of living with you, he's become accustomed to seeking out your presence first thing in

As you offer him the milk and food with gentle hands, Bret feels a sense of warmth and security course through his veins. He takes the food gratefully, knowing that it will give him strength and energy to face whatever the day may bring. The milk is sweet on his tongue and soothing as it slides down his throat, helping to quiet the tiny nagging voice in the back of his mind that wonders if you'll abandon him too.

As he eats, Bret watches you with rapt attention, studying every expression on your face and movement of your body. This level of focus brings a strange sort of peace to him; like he can better understand the world by simply observing someone who seems so much bigger and stronger than himself. He finishes his meal quickly, eager for any scrap of affection or attention you might offer him today.