Hazel's Brave Teddy-Terry Knight (3) Tiny Terry chapter 6 by KoroKoroAi

Hazel Rose slept better than she had in years.

It was a deep, dreamless, perfect sleep. The kind where you wake up and your body feels like a warm, happy puddle. No nightmares about ruined teddy bears. No loneliness. Just soft, pink, protected darkness, nuzzled into endless soft perfumed clouds.

She stirred as morning light, soft and golden, filtered through her pink curtains. She let out a long, slow yawn, stretching her arms high above her head. Her back arched off the mattress, a long, luxurious stretch that made every joint pop pleasantly. She rubbed her eyes with her knuckles, blinking away the sleep.

“Mmmph… good morning, world,” she mumbled, her voice thick and sweet with a full, deep, restful sigh.

She felt so good. So safe. She smiled. Then she remembered.

Terry! Her brave, tiny knight! He’d protected her all night long!

A giddy, love-drunk rush filled her chest. She pushed herself up on her hands, her long, messy brown hair tumbling around her shoulders. She looked down at her chest, her expression one of sleepy, innocent curiosity.

Her breasts lay heavy and full against her chest, pale in the morning light. There was a slight, pleasant soreness in them, like she’d slept on them funny. But no Terry.

“Huh? Terry? Where’d my little knight go?” she cooed, her voice a singsong whisper. She patted her chest lightly, as if he might be hiding in them. “Come out, come out, wherever you are…”

She sat up fully, the blankets pooling around her waist. She peered down at herself. That’s when she saw it.

A tiny, nude, pink dot, stuck fast to the very tip of her right nipple.

Hazel’s eyes went wide, and then her face split into the most adorable, doting grin. She lifted her breast and tilted it towards her, and brought her face closer, her breath washing over her own skin. “Oh! There you are! You silly little thing!”

There he was. Terry. Her brother. Totally naked, stuck to her nipple like a little piece of lint. He was completely out cold, his tiny limbs splayed awkwardly, his face smooshed against the pink, puckered nipple. He looked so helpless. So adorable.

Hazel felt a surge of overwhelming, sisterly love. He’d been so brave, and now he was just stuck to her! It was the cutest thing she’d ever seen.

“Aww, did you get glued to me, you goof?” she giggled. She shimmied her shoulders a little, making her breasts jiggle. Terry wobbled on the nipple but remained firmly adhered. A faint, pearly sheen of cum on her nipple caught the light for a second, but Hazel didn’t register it. “Stuck fast! Okay, hold on, big brother. Let me help you.”

She reached down with her thumb and forefinger. With the utmost care - the care one uses to pick a stray eyelash off a cheek - she pinched the tiny speck of his back. She peeled him off her skin. There was a tiny, almost inaudible pop as he was released.

She lifted him up, bringing him to eye level. He dangled limply from her pinch, a nude, unconscious doll. His little body was covered in a fine sheen of her sweat and oils, making him glisten. She had forgotten completely about his little knight outfit, which lay torn somewhere in the bundle of blankets.

“Wakey wakey, tiny Terry!” she sang. She nudged him. She shook him. Back and forth in the air, like he was a tiny rattle or a stubborn ketchup bottle. His head lolled, his limbs flopped. “Come on, sleepyhead! It’s morning! You survived the night! You protected me!”

The violent shaking finally pierced the deep, concussion-like fog of Terry’s unconsciousness. His world was a blur of motion and light and giant, blurry features. A colossal, beautiful face with sleep-softened eyes and a loving smile swam into view.

“H-hazel…?” he croaked, his voice a tinny, distant squeak. Everything hurt. Everything was sore. He was naked. The memory of the crushing, the rubbing, the… the other thing… flooded back, and humiliation burned hotter than any physical ache.

“You’re awake!” Hazel squealed with delight. All thoughts of his nudity were irrelevant. He was her Terry. Her toy. Her brother. Her knight. Her gratitude and affection were too big to contain. “Oh, Terry! Thank you, thank you, thank you! I slept so good! You were the best knight ever! You must have protected me so hard!”

Before he could protest, before he could even fully comprehend his orientation, she brought him to her lips. Her lips, still soft, full, glittery and still sticky with yesterday’s lip gloss, barreled into him.

She planted a huge, wet, smacking kiss right on his entire front. The force of it flattened him against her lower lip. He was engulfed in the hot, damp cavern of her mouth for a split second, then she pulled him back with another loud mwah!

“My hero!” she cried, her morning breath washing over him in a hot, stale cloud. Her morning breath. It smelled horrible.

She didn’t stop. Elated, she began nuzzling him against her cheek. She rubbed him back and forth on the smooth, warm skin of her face, cooing and sighing. “My brave, strong, tiny, tiny big brother! I love you so much! You’re the best!”

Terry was a ragdoll. Saliva and pink lipstick smeared across his chest, back, and legs. He was pressed into the softness of her cheek, then smooshed against her nose.

“Hazel… stop… can’t… move…” he managed to wheeze, his words muffled by her skin.

But she either didn’t hear or chose not to. The nuzzling reached a fever pitch, and she finally held him still, cradling him in both hands now, and planted a dozen more tiny, wet kisses on him. His morning wood strained uncomfortably as he was smushed by her lips and drenched in her saliva with each kiss.

“I’m just so happy!” she sighed, finally pulling back, her eyes sparkling. She held him in her cupped palms, looking down at him with absolute, smothering adoration. Not noticing his throbbing embarrassment down there.

Terry lay in her hands, panting, covered in a slick mixture of her saliva, her lipstick, and his own shame. He was a mess. A nude, trembling, sticky mess.

He was no knight. He was a used toy. But Hazel, beaming, innocent, and utterly in charge, saw only her adorable, strong, beloved big brother. She had a new teddy-terry now. And she wasn’t ever going to let him go.

“Now,” she said, “What should we do today? I think my brave knight deserves a whole day of thanks for his bravery last night! Maybe a bath? Ooh, I could give you a bubble bath in one of mom’s coffee mugs!”

“I… I have school today...”

But Hazel didn’t even hear him. She giggled, already imagining it, her thumbs stroking his slick, tiny body absently. Terry closed his eyes, a fresh wave of humiliated powerlessness washing over him. The night was over. But a new day of helplessness was just getting started.