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"You really want to stay locked up like that?" Thrad asked. My instinct was to immediately affirm that I did, in fact, wish to remain in chastity. But I checked myself on that first, in part because I wanted to make sure it was the right decision. I didn't want to blow my opportunity to have a normal orgasm with Thrad, and our evening was coming to a close. It'd been hours and hours of being teased - did I really want to take it even further? But it was Thrad's mixture of concern and incredulity that made me question myself. I supposed my behavior was more than a little atypical, where most guys would be concerned. Especially someone like Thrad, who was sort of a man's man, through and through. Regardless of the occasional fairy he liked to keep on retainer for company now and then.

The thing was, I was perfectly satisfied. The cage around my cock, sheath, and balls, had certainly been a tease these past several hours. But it had been comforting, too. I felt safe in the presence of Thrad. Being with him felt natural. I looked forward to our sessions with bated breath, to call them the highlight of my week would be a vast understatement. So sure, when I was playing by myself wearing the chastity cage was a wonderful tease to myself. But I could legitimately forget all about it when I was at Thrad's place. Because our nights together had become increasingly about him. This was certainly not any of his doing, he was still ever the gentleman. My pleasure and comfortability came first, without fail. But I wanted to feel him in me, balls deep. I wanted him to stay that way inside me. But I also wanted him to furiously pound me, and shoot cum inside me, or on the outside of me - wherever he wanted it to go, really. Because I wanted my bull to be satisfied. Both in a general way, but more specifically, lately I wanted him to be satisfied with me.

And on this level, the chastity cage sort of didn't factor in at all. Whether or not I was locked up in a small, knock-off chastity device or not, I was still focused entirely on my bull. And if anything the cage helped on that front. It cemented that I wasn't here for my own pleasure, but for Thrad's. I was here on his whim, my pleasure was at his mercy. I was his plaything. Yet more simply, I was his.

But again, Thrad was ever the gentleman. We had just fucked for the upteenth time, and we were mutually worn out. Amazingly I think he still could have gone again, given a bit of time to work back up to it. But I was spent, absolutely spent. My throat couldn't take any more abuse. And my ass was just sore. It took me a long time to reach that point, but we had hit it. In fact we hit it a fuck or two ago, so pushing beyond that probably wasn't all that wise. And that, I can admit, was largely due to the cage around me. It put me in just the right headspace, that I wanted to be his submissive twink, through and through. I wanted to feel well used for tonight, I wanted to feel the aftermath for the entire week to come. So I used Thrad's dick to sort of abuse myself, and take me deeper into that fantasy. And it was lovely, don't get me wrong. I was just hella tired from it all.

This is to say, Thrad picked up on my state, and he was giving me all the space that I needed. I was flopped uselessly against his legs, breathing heavy, still in in the throes of deep, satisfying orgasm. "Satisfying" is probably the least adequate word I could have possibly used, by the way. But it's simple, and honest, and to be honest it would be impossible to exaggerate the way I felt after tonight. So I figure I might as well understate it, and the idea would come across all the same. But he didn't have his hands on my junk, and he wasn't anywhere near my ass. I probably would have fainted if he'd tried to finger me again. But even then it was a toss-up. My sex drive had never taken me this far before. I honestly didn't know if it would have me keep going or not. But I was at the verge of collapse (I practically already had collapsed), and so we rested. Thrad was gentle with me. And I tried to be respectful of him.

Did he want me out of my cage? Then I thought to myself, no. If I wanted to keep my sex toy on, it stayed on, simple as that. And there's no way Thrad would decide of me what was in my best interest. If I wanted to stay kinky all through the night then who was he to say otherwise? But again, to me it had stopped being kinky. A few fucks into tonight and it stopped being kinky. It was just that I belonged to him, as fully as I felt I could. The cage was a symbol of that. So to be sappy, it was more like a symbol of love than a symbol of sex. And that thought lingered far longer in my mind than it ever had before. I took great care not to think of Thrad that way. I did not want to be that young twink who fell for some dude he met online. It was called casual sex for a reason, and emotional attachment might fuck things up. I wanted that least of all. I'd keep my dick locked up forever before this thing with Thrad came to an end. But actually, on at least some level I'd probably get off on that. It was more like I'd forego ever being locked up again.

Even that was an emotionally attached thought, and I shook it from my head, even though it took tremendous energy to do so. Remember, Silver, this was about the cage. Nice and simple, do you want your dick jerked off or not? Make the choice now, because you're spent and sleepy as fuck, and you might not get another chance. There's no questions of love in that (or like like, depending on how honest you wanted to be about things). It's just sex. It's only been just sex, and it'll stay that way. At least, I tried to convince myself of that. It was just hard, after the intense orgasms I'd had throughout the night, and how gentle Thrad was with me, and how caring and sweet and-

Fuck, Silver, Just, fuck. No, you do not want your dick jacked off. You are spent and completely satisfied, and sexually fulfilled for the night. You want to stay in chastity. There, that's your answer. Was that really so hard?

"Yes." I said, finally. "I would like to remain in chastity." "You're joking."

I looked up at Thrad with questioning, bemused eyes. I knew what he meant to say was "Okay, I respect that fully considered response, and your wish is my command". So it was extremely charming for that bit of incredulity to slip through. He didn't often break composure, but then again, he made a point of being sexually honest, through and through. He just usually wasn't this honest, and even those two words betrayed him. It spoke to how tired he had become as well, that his guard was a little down. He never kink shamed me, that was practically his first rule. Or, at least in his top five - he governed himself by a lot of rules, hence the gentlemanly nature. But he was a dom, through and through. He couldn't imagine even a tiny bit being locked up during an entire evening of sex. What more, there was no way on planet Earth he could ever wrap his head around choosing to remain locked up. It was the antithesis of chastity play. The submissive, horny slut was supposed to beg for release. Then the key holder could deny him for torture, or release him for reward, and it was a sexual power play and it was fun for both parties. The submissive wasn't supposed to deny his own freedom on any grounds. And I couldn't tell if Thrad was picking up on the same emotional strands between them that he was. Did he realize that I wanted to stay in chastity because I wanted to remain emotionally his, opposed to just sexually? Did Thrad want me to be his as well?

"No, I'm not joking." I said back, maybe a tiny bit playfully, or even bratty. It wasn't a tone I often used, and it was a cover up. I wanted to get those lame thoughts out of my head. Even though part of me knew that they were here to stay. They were on my mind a lot lately. It was just whether or not I pushed them away in any given moment. But that just put them back in the background, ever processing, and wanting. But I was tired, and I'm that deep level of trust simply had to be displayed on my muzzle, or at least a hint of it. But my bull was hard to read. The most emotionally connected thing we'd ever opened up to was me spending the night in his bed. That had been a huge step for us, and at the time I sensed it was a breach of his personal protocol. But he'd brought it up, and affirmed to me that it was something he would like. But then it had fallen into our routine, and I forgot its emotional connotations. When we fucked I almost always stayed the night. I told myself that didn't necessarily have to mean anything. But a large, growing part of me wanted it to mean a lot.

"And that's fine." Thrad said, hastily. "I'm into it. Like, extremely into it. It's just surprising, is all. You surprise me." Then he looked at me again in that proud, sex-dad sort of way. Was I imagining that look? Hopefully not, and- dammit, Silver! Stop already!

I sought to cover up my exposed thoughts and emotions again. So I mustered the strength (and I really did have to summon it from seemingly nowhere) to turn onto my side. I was facing away from him, then. I nestled deep into his lap, and I made out like I was getting good and comfortable up against him. And that was true. His leg was firm, but his fur was reasonably soft for a bovine. It made him a little like a soft pillow. This was not to mention that I was exhausted enough I could have slept on concrete and been one content kitty. But now I couldn't look into his eyes, and he couldn't look into mine. It wasn't all that much different from my extremely sore ass, actually. I couldn't handle any more dick in me tonight, no way no how. And I couldn't handle more of those emotional thoughts, either. It was overwhelming to me, and I felt like I needed to sleep it off.

"Come on, kitty." Thrad said. It wasn't a question at all, nor was it a command. It was more like a statement, and he picked me up so easily, like that was simply a statement as well. I was less than a sack of potatoes, then. He might as well have been picking up a tangled pile of blanket. I flowed into and around his arms, little more than a deeply exhausted (and contended) rag doll. Usually I got off when he man handled me like that. But I was too tired for that. I couldn't even be grateful that he was carrying me to bed for that slumber I so desperately craved. I didn't just feel like I could fall asleep in his arms. I think that for a little bit I did.

He still held he easily in just one arm while he drew aside the covers, and set me gently in his bed. I scooted over instinctively to my side of the bed, and was only a little distraught when he didn't climb in next to me. But he wasn't gone for long, and he came back with a glass of water for me. We hadn't been drinking all that much, but he wanted to make sure I stayed hydrated, either from the alcohol, or from our exhaustive night of furious sex. I drank what I could, set the rest on my nightstand, then scooted back into his arms as he laid next to me. Just like his furred, well muscled thigh made for a phenomenal pillow moments ago, his arm made a phenomenal pillow now. It was firm and arm, and all the better because it was his. He wrapped his other arm around me, and his entire embrace was warm and comforting. I lasted moments at most, then I was asleep.

That lasted for about an hour or two.

I had known what sleeping in a chastity cage entailed, I had just forgotten about it. But then, even if I had remembered, I doubt I would have cared. I did care a little bit about it now, however. My body had tried to give me a nighttime erection. It was just doing its due diligence, to make sure I stayed sexually healthy or whatever. But what it really gave me was a cock trying to get hard inside its plastic enclosure, and an uncomfortable tug against my ballsack. By now not even silicone lube on the base ring could keep me slick enough to minimize discomfort. It pulled awkwardly against my fur, and together with my uselessly hardening cock, I was agitated into being well awake. It was like I'd taken a deep, restorative nap. It was the sort of nap you wanted to resume right away, because I was still really quite tired. If only my idiot junk would quiet down.

Then I was aware of Thrad's embrace around me. I typically tossed and turned in my sleep. In my own bed I was a bit of a storm of blankets and, shamelessly, a stuffed animal or two. But call it biology, but I always behaved in my sleep when I was staying the night with Thrad. I fell asleep in his arms, and I woke up the same way. I didn't have much concern then for emotional thoughts of growing or being attached. I was extremely comfortable in his arms and I'd be damned if I messed that up just because of a plastic cage around my junk.

I adjusted it as best as I could, but unfortunately that seemed to agitate me a little more. The walls of my cage moved against my shaft and sheath in just such a way, like inadvertently teasing myself that getting off was right around the corner. I did my best to ignore that, and sort of rearranged my ballsack through the ring which encircled it. I tried to reduce how much it tugged against my fur and reset the cage comfortably around me. At home I'd only ever lasted part way into the night with the cage on. The first time I tried I took it off when I first woke up. The second time I tried to go all night, but took it off the third time my biology woke me up. Then I stopped trying altogether.

The fantasy of permanent chastity was a pleasant one. Or if that was too extreme, it still sounded nice to be locked up for a few days at a time, or maybe a week or something. Being truly at the hands of a key holder, with complete inaccessibility to my own cock. After all, that was why I surprised Thrad with my chastity cage in the first place. But fantasy was one thing, and the stories online were of course glorified in order to best get a horny teenager off. But, that went for anyone, really. And I always skipped to the best parts of the stories I read. Call me expedient when I masturbated, but I knew what I needed. Just like my crotch knew what it needed now. It either needed to get off (because I was starting to get a little horny for sure), or it just needed to get my junk erect so it could fall asleep in peace.

Point being, I'd never have tried sleeping in my cage if I was home alone. It kind of sucked. And if I'd had more wherewithal I might not have tried sleeping in it tonight. But sharing the experience of being locked up with Thrad was more intoxicating than sense would allow for. For instance, on any other occasion I'd remember that it was useless trying to get sound sleep with a cage on. And I'd have woken up uncomfortable, and taken the damn thing off. If you weren't in the middle of play with a chastity device, or if you trying to wear it at work or whatever, it just got in the way. It was annoying and impractical more than it was sexy. That's why I'd stopped wearing it to bed pretty swiftly, and I'd only worn it to work once or twice before I gave that up as well.

But this night was at least a little different. I didn't get to sleep with Thrad terribly often. We'd only recently opened up to me staying the night with him, and that made Thursday nights that much more appealing to me. I relished in them, and each time I relished them a little more than the last. I didn't want to disturb our night together, I didn't want to bother him in my sleep. But I had selfish motives, too. I was warm and cozy in his embrace. And the blankets were a warm and cozy nest, and it didn't matter how well my fur insulated me against the cold (which wasn't all that much, really), but outside of the bed was unquestionably colder than inside the bed. And I didn't want to deal with that. I'd have to get up, go to my bag, unlock my cage, stumble back into bed, get warm again, and fall back asleep. I'd rather just suffer through the uncomfortable sensation on my package, and fall back asleep as soon as I could.

It might have been something like twenty minutes until I fell back asleep, warm and in my bull's embrace. And it was nice. And, for how long it lasted, it was a deep and restorative sleep.

And that lasted for about an hour or two.

Are you fucking kidding me? But I knew it would happen, because it always happened. I had to debate with myself if I wanted to get up or not, and if I wanted to deal with this for the entire night. But then I had to pee as well. And I could maybe ignore one or the other. After all, you never wanted to get out of the covers when you were nestled in and sleepy and warm. But the two at once were frustrating and annoying, and I just had to address it.

Grudgingly I stepped out of bed. It probably wasn't all that cold in Thrad's place, but comparative to the bed it was freezing. Still, I stumbled to his bathroom to pee first. That was the more urgent of my tasks, and besides, I always did like peeing with my cage on. It felt humiliating, and extra feminine. I had to sit down, and sort of angle the cage down so I didn't just pee all over the toilet. Because of how most sheaths positioned the head of the cage had to point a little upward, otherwise your junk would be absolutely angled an awkward way, and just more uncomfortable than pleasurable. At least, that's what I'd read online.

It did make me feel feminine though. It was a fun little treat for myself late at night, and a great way to send off my chastity play for today. I wiped the tip of it dry (again, just like a girl has to wipe her sex after peeing) which helped get me just a little bit more horny than I was before. I really did know no bounds, and my sex drive never ceased to amaze me. But it was high time to be done with the thing. I unlocked it in the living room and blessedly set myself free. I didn't get immediately hard, but I popped a semi right away (not that that meant a whole lot, given my naturally small size). And god it felt good to be free.

I massaged my sore balls a bit. They retracted pretty immediately, like they were just as glad to be free of restraint as I was. But I didn't want to go getting too horny again, otherwise I'd never fall back asleep. So I locked the cage together again (otherwise I'd risk losing any of the individual pieces), and set it down politely next to my bag. As an afterthought I sought my buttplug I had from earlier, and set that next to my bag as well. I'd nearly forgotten it given how quickly we'd discarded it when our sexy night began. And it wouldn't be unusual at all to forget something at Thrad's place, it had happened plenty of times. And he wouldn't care at all if he found my small buttplug somewhere in the living room, long after I'd gone back home, already excited for the same time next week. He'd find it amusing, in fact, and teasing and horny as well. I idly toyed with the idea of putting it back in me before returning to bed. It was easier to sleep with a (small) plug in than it was to sleep with a cock cage on. But that would get me horny for sure, and I was still a tired little guy. So I headed back to bed, just regular naked, with no sex attachments of any sort. Practically for the first time all day.

Problem was, I managed to get horny anyway.

I nestled back into Thrad's arms, and got real comfortable - but then my mind started to race. I couldn't stop thinking about the night we'd just had. It was like freeing my cock and balls finally gave my mind the room to breathe. I'd been in a sexual haze for hours now, definitely for the majority of my day. And in such a haze it was always hard to notice the present in any sort of meaningful way. I'd lose myself every time (or nearly every time) in the motions I was experiencing. Every time I'd played with the cage before tonight was just on my own. And it drove me deep into a submissive fantasy, and escalated pretty much any play session with any of my dildos or plugs. It wasn't until after I was done that I came to, and realized how long I'd been playing, or how deep into it I got. But this time I was with Thrad the entire night, and that got me deeper into my submissive mindset for the whole night. So now the clarity of the evening came to me in full force. And it was just about the horniest events I'd ever recalled.

I'd taken his dick more times tonight than ever before. We'd fucked relentlessly. And each time the refractory period grew, so we spent a little more time cuddling and feeling each other up every time. He'd finger me to keep me agitated, and my hands or muzzle were always on his dick or around it, perhaps massaging his balls, and we kissed a lot. Then we maybe had another mixed drink, and had sex again, and put that process on repeat for hours on end.

Come to think of it, my ass was still remarkably sore. But now it wasn't as prevalent as it had been earlier. It was a comfortable sort of sore now. I didn't hurt down there - I just had a near permanent reminder of the night we'd had. It was like an imprint within me, a shadow of his tremendous size which I could feel within me still. Like the negative space he left had the exact dimensions that he did. Like I could still feel him within me.

Just like that I was horny all over again. The night had grown so vivid now that the cage wasn't clouding my senses. I couldn't help but grind against Thrad's groin as I recalled the night's events. I didn't even realize I was doing it. But it had been a horny night, and I was horny, and Thrad was right there. I could feel his flaccid cock against me. Even when he was soft he made his presence known, and it didn't matter what time of night it was. I wanted him again.

Part of me was remiss to disturb his sleep. He was a big guy, and sweet to me, and he deserved his sleep. But I remembered what the rule was when we slept together. He was emphatic about it during our first night together, and on so many night which followed. Until finally it was drilled into my head, and then our nighttime fun could really begin.

"I want you to feel me up." He had said, pointedly, the first time I stayed overnight. "I just feels wrong to me." "But I'm telling you that it's okay. I want it." "But you're asleep!" "And I'd like nothing more than to wake up to my beautiful, sexy kitten, massaging my massive dick like he wants it inside him. You know it feels really good to be wanted, right? And I feel wanted when you wake me up because you want to have sex."

That one had stopped me for a while, because he had a point. I had to take a page from his book, then. If he couldn't dream of kink shaming me, or decide on my behalf what sort of sex play I was into, or the sorts of depraved things that I craved - I couldn't decide for him, either. He was adamant and sure in himself, and the things he liked, and the ways he liked to play. And he was also so accommodating to me, and the sexy things that I ever chose to bring up. It was the very least I could to to return the favor, and it wasn't like I didn't want to. I loved the idea of waking him up in the middle of the night for more sex play. When we started sleeping together having midnight sex was the most alluring factor. And sure, now I enjoyed sleeping in his arms more than I enjoyed the midnight sex. But I still really, really enjoyed the midnight sex.

At the time he sensed my trepidation and gave me a last, necessary solace. If he woke up and ever didn't want it, he would say something about it, and no harm would be done. And I knew clear and honest communication was his prime tenet, and I knew he would never break it. And that's what sealed the deal for us. He'd been clear on his desires, and insistent that he'd tell me off if he was somehow, miraculously, not in the mood. So when I was growing desperately horny in recollection of the night we'd just had, I took him up on the standing offer he'd left on the table. Just like I'd done so many times before. It had become part of our sex play, even part of our routine. And we both looked forward to it, as surely as we looked forward to anything we did on our Thursdays together.

With all that in mind, I started to grind against him with purpose. I wriggled my ass about him, trying to get his flaccid cock between my cheeks. After a time I gave up on his uncooperative shaft, and reached between us to position him myself. Again I marveled at his heft in my hands. It was impossible to describe how heavy he was. Certainly it felt all the more heavier by the fact it was just a soft cock, and the weight itself wasn't all that impressive. But to me it felt like holding a small bag of rice or something in my hand. He was noticeable in my hand, is the point. He was more noticeable soft than I ever could be when I was fully hard. Speaking of, I was fully hard, for the first time of the night. Which is obvious to say, given that I'd been in a chastity cage for the past several hours. And the urge to touch myself had grown strong. And part of me tried to hold back from it. I still wanted to deny myself on some level, and to be his bitch, and to cum only on his command.

But fuck it. I was horny, and I hadn't cum from direct stimulation all night. Sure, he'd gotten me to cum hands free a few times. Sometimes it was like he just fucked the cum from me. We didn't get to that point often, and the fact we'd done it so many times through the night spoke wonders about chastity play. And lord knows I'd have mind blowing full body orgasms. But sometimes a guy just needs his dick jacked off. So while I ground my rear against his cock, which was now positioned tactfully between my cheeks, with his head rubbing right against my hole, I took my own cock in my hand. It was electric to finally feel some stimulation on myself. It reminded me of all the times in the night that I'd wished I could have hands on my junk, but couldn't. And I wanted to feel me in his mouth, and I had wanted to get off so damn bad, but just couldn't. And now was comeuppance for all that denial I'd felt. And I was grinding my rear against his cock which was starting to grow, and before long at all I was panting, and grinding against him with more purpose, and I was close to cumming in his sheets-

Then his hand took hold of mine, and pulled me away.

"You don't have permission to cum yet, little cat." He half said, half growled the words. His voice was husky and groggy, yet reprimanding, commanding. "But-" "No way. Here I thought I was holding your key, remember?" "Yeah, but-" "But what, little cat?" "I just, wanted to cum." I said lamely. "So you unlocked yourself?" It was both a question, and a disapproving statement. Even a disappointed one, and I just couldn't bear hearing that tone from him. But I knew it was all part of the scene, and it made me feel shameful, and humiliated, and weak. And submissive, and needy as hell. "... yeah." "Interesting." Was all he said. Then he nuzzled the back of my neck, then bit it. It was soft, almost like a question, and I gave him permission my squirming deeper into his embrace. I tugged my own neck against his bite, which let him know to bite me harder. He bit me with meaning, then. His hold on me was firm and almost painful, just the way I liked it. His cock was definitely firming up by now. He had to slide me up on the bed to keep his growing head positioned at my hole. If he kept growing and wasn't careful with my positioning he'd grow right past my ass and toward my lower back. And he wanted me, and my ass, to stay exactly how I was. But as hot and heavy as we were getting, I felt the need to clarify. I tapped his arm twice to let him know we needed a small break.

"The cage gets uncomfortable during the night. I woke up twice and decided to just take it off, but then I got horny. Like, real horny." "Yeah, that's totally fine. Everything good?" To specify his meaning he released my hand long enough to grope lightly at my crotch. I gasped and on instinct push my hips forward to meet his grasp. "Y- yeah, it's fine. Really fine." "Good, that's just how I like it. You good?" "Yeah, I'm good." I tapped his arm twice, then, and wriggled up against his firm hold on me. Back into it. Then he started to grind at my ass again, but then he paused. "But still no cumming." He said. He was firm, but used a plainer tone than when we were deep into it. He was making sure I was still okay with orgasm denial play. I whimpered in response. "No sir. Only if you want me to." "Good." He growled. Then he bit me again. And then we were back in it.

And not only were we back in it - but we got into it with a vengeance. It was like our combined sex drives were upset that we paused, even just for the time it took to check in with each other back in reality. So when we picked back up with our play it got hot and heavy fast. We'd gone through the pleasantries. We'd spent enough time being sexually apart. Hell, we'd been sleeping (well, he'd been sleeping) for at least half the night. There was still so much work to be done.

He didn't fuck around when it came to grinding against my hole. I had positioned his cock in just the right way. I was the one who put his head directly against my hole. And I was certainly going to pay the price. He didn't go so far as to force it inside me, nor did he come especially close to it. We both knew better than to try that without the proper amount of lube. But every push he made against my ass was teasing me infuriatingly. It was more more infuriating because I knew he'd make me beg for it before he'd allow us to have sex. But I wanted to hold out as long as I could. Again, I was horny, and entirely in spite of myself I wanted to stay in it. Even though my dick was aching to be touched. It was so hard now, and needed just the tiniest stimulation to get off. But it poked out uselessly in the air in front of me. The covers were pulled away enough that I couldn't even grind myself against them. I was just helpless in my bull's arms. I was a plaything resting upon the head of his cock. And my orgasm was entirely at his control.

"Get the lube." He said. That surprised me, but also enthralled me. He liked to tease me, and sometimes he liked to make me beg for it. I thought for certain this would be one of those times. But apparently holding my orgasm at bay, and forcing me not to touch myself, was getting him as hot and heavy as I was. Maybe more so, because his thrusting was picking up vigor. He wanted inside of me, and no way in hell would I dream of putting that off.

I left him just long enough to get the lube from the nightstand. Thrad was prepared enough that just about every room in his house had its own bottle of lube. Most of the bottles he had were silicone. It kept me the most slick for the longest amount of time. But in the bedroom it was water based lube. You had to apply it more frequently, but apparently it washed out of his sheets much more easily, and I was in no position to argue. I handed him the bottle, and he wasted no time in slicking the both of us up. He used a generous amount of lube, too. We usually went in stages with lube, especially in his bed. We used what we had to, did what we needed to, then applied more as we needed. It wasn't so much for the conservation of lube, but in the interest of making a bit less of a mess. It was the sole drawback to having sex in his bed, but that drawback came with oh so many positives. So it was out of character to slather so much lube between us so readily. It added up to Thrad needed my ass around his cock. He needed it bad, and I needed him too.

I thought just the tiniest bit about trying to deny him for once. I knew I could do it, too. I could tease myself away from his cock, and given the nature of our scene he'd probably take me anyway, which would be even more hot in any other circumstance. But our night had had a certain tenderness to it. It often did whenever we introduced new elements of play. So I was in a really submissive, acquiescing space, opposed to a bratty one which always had a special place for us both. But he wanted me urgently, and honestly. And I'd be lying if I said I didn't want him, too.

But it's just that, I really wanted a hand on my cock. And I didn't care if it was my own hand, or his. He was positioning himself against my hole again, and as a question I gently slid my hand towards my crotch. He wasted no time in firmly setting it away. He didn't have to use words to tell me to fuck off with my masturbation. All he had to do was growl. It was deep and intense. I almost felt it rather than heard it. Just like that, I knew my cock was strictly, absolutely off limits. But to make matters worse, as he repositioned my hand on my chest, he moved it onto a nipple and used my fingers to massage it. He was commanding me to pinch myself, and play with myself - to tease myself.

I whimpered again, and almost melted under his command. At the same time I pushed my rear towards his cock again, and started to massage myself, just like he had commanded me to. He nuzzled me approvingly, and turned his attention back to my rear. He started to finger me roughly, urgently, and his head was still positioned right there. I pushed back against him, and was able to take his digits easily. Two slid easily in, then a third, and a fourth didn't pose a challenge at all. It was like my rear remembered well what it felt like to have his cock within me, and like it had kept itself loose over the past few hours. Like my body knew our routines as surely as I did. A night in Thrad's bed meant more sex was on its way. Best to stay prepared for it.

In moments he was near fisting me again. His hand was in me clear to the base of his thumb. It was the point we always reached when we knew it was time for me to take his head. And I expected him to pull out then. But he kept fingering me, and fucking me with that majority of his hand - and then he positioned his thumb to enter into me as well. I moaned excitedly, I hadn't expected him to fist me tonight. It wasn't one of our usuals but we both always got really into it. And in my denied state I'd have done anything if it meant finally getting off. But one thing was for sure. Whatever Thrad felt like doing to me tonight, he was definitely getting off on it.

Everything he did had urgency to it. He fingered me urgently. He ground against me urgently. His breaths around my neck were urgent, and he hardly let up on biting me save to give me urgent kisses. I wondered what had changed to get him so impossibly pent up, but I didn't bother to question it too hard. It wasn't my job to explore why he needed the things he did, or why he was using me in any particular way. It was my job to be available to him. I was his toy, good only for getting him off. And tonight even my orgasms came only at his mercy, if even then. To add to my humiliation I thought that, compared to his massive cock (and his massive hand which was trying to get inside me), my cock was small and insignificant. What did it even matter if I came or not? It wasn't like it would do me any good.

But I could hardly finish that train of thought when my full attention was put on my rear. He'd worked up to the thickest part of his hand. Here he was even thicker than the girth of his shaft, which itself was nearly too much to handle. I drew a sharp breath and he pulled back, but kept most of his hand inside me. Then he pushed it in and out of me. With each push in he worked my ass. He got it used to expanding and contracting, and every so often he'd push in as far as he could go, and held it there. When he did I wriggled against him, working on my own pace to take him as much as I could. And when I breath got sharp again he pulled back. But on one of those sharp inhales of breath I reached back and held his hand in place. I adjusted myself about his hand, angling my body to get into just a bit more of an accepting position. It so happened to set my exceedingly hard cock up against the mattress. Amazingly, even in the throes of his incredible lust, it was something Thrad picked up on.

"No cumming." He reminded me. I ignored his comment for just a moment while I finished adjusting about his hand. I got into a good position, or at least as good as it was going to get, and pushed back on him experimentally. There was just a bit more give, and that was what we needed. With just a bit more working up to it, I could take his fist like this. That's when I mustered my honest response.

"You can fist me, or deny me an orgasm, but not both. It's your call daddy." I just barely couldn't catch myself in time, the word daddy just slipped out. It was almost always sir when we were in play, and I'd never called him daddy until now. It just wasn't something we'd done, that's all. But he skipped over it completely. And it didn't linger long in my mind, either. I was immediately back into my own lust, and feeling my sexual need interplay along with my bull's. It was a bold move to put my anal pleasure over penile stimulation. I didn't want him to further deny me an orgasm, but at this point it wasn't because my dick was pent up for attention. If anything that was a distraction at this point. What I wanted was him in my ass, be it his cock or his fist. Just please, god, give me something, anything.

He still wasn't convinced. I rocked up and down on his hand, then. He kept it in an unmoving position, with his fingers all drawn into a point to give the best taper he could. In a gesture of good will I took my cock and bent it backwards onto the sheets behind me. It was in his vision, and no longer grinding between myself and the sheets. It was more uncomfortable, sure. But I was trying to work a massive bull's huge hand inside me. How much more uncomfortable could I really get?

That seemed to appease him, because with my cock in view he resumed action. He still didn't force his hand inside me, but with him doing his part of the job, it let me focus on mine. As with taking his cock, I couldn't focus on thrusting and also relaxing. I couldn't readily push my body up and down without subconsciously tightening in at least some regard. If we were deep in play, or if we'd been at it for a while, then I could ride him like there was no tomorrow. But we were working up to a sort of milestone, and that took all the concentration I had.

It didn't take long, though. Especially now that concerns about my cock were out of our mind, we could focus entirely on getting his hand in my ass. I loosened against him as best as I could. It was most akin to relaxing, like you might when you were on the brink of falling asleep. I reached that point with my rear, and then he pushed in to that apex of his hand again, and then it was up to me. I wriggled my ass about his fist, and it started to go in. And I resisted the urge to tighten up against the intruder, and my hole expanded but not in a painful way, and I continued to slide back. Then the thickest part was within me, and my primary relief came from pushing myself further down. Then my hole could shrink a bit, and relax now that the thickest part was over. And then his hand was in me.

"Fuck." He said. That was all he had to say, because I knew what he meant. I was a small guy. It would take four or five of me just to make one Thrad, and lord knows it would take several of my cocks to come close to adding up to his. So for me, a small, tight-assed boy to take his fist was a feat of strength, and perseverance. It was the sign of one hell of a whore, and I prided myself on that. I liked to think that I knew no bounds. And an unexpected, midnight fisting, is where a lot of people would normally draw a line.

But not me. And not Thrad, either. He didn't waste much time before working his hand within me. He twisted it about, gently at first, then more forcefully. It worked my hole in a lot of ways, and I received stimulation from his hand stretching it in alternating ways. Since his hand wasn't just a cylinder (unlike his cock, which was almost entirely cylinder), it stretched me longer one way than the other. And when he twisted about I felt that keenly on my hole. It was an intense sensation, and it almost overshadowed the feelings I had with his hand rubbing against my prostate. But it was impossible to overshadow that swell of pleasure from within me. It was all I could do to grind back against the hand which was in me. I was trying to get that thrusting motion that I so needed. Being fisted was nice and all. But what I really needed was his cock in me, fucking me. I needed long and powerful strokes right now. Not that I wasn't grateful for his fist, and it was always a lovely challenge to overcome. It just, didn't quite fit the mood.

I tried to hint at that by exaggerating my thrusts against his fist. He took it as a sign that I wanted to be fisted more, so he worked my ass a little harder. That's when our token communication kicked in.

"Will you fuck me?" I asked. "In a moment." "Will you please fuck me?" That was code for calling attention to what was being said. "Sure thing." He gently pulled his hand from my rear. Without meaning to I'd gotten a little tight against his hand again, mainly because it turns out I just wasn't into being fisted right now, so my ass stung a bit when he came out. I grunted and sank away from his hand, collapsing onto the bed so I could recover. "You okay?" He asked. "Yeah, I just need a moment." I said.

I was apologetic, but not too apologetic. That's one thing I learned in my time with Thrad. No apologizing for anything sexual, and certainly no feeling like you were letting your partner down. The only way you could do that would be to suffer through sex when you weren't in the mood. That would be forcing someone to live a lie, and disrespect you without them even knowing it. So I wasn't into being fisted, even though he was clearly into it, and all I had to do was make that be known. No harm done. Save, perhaps, for my tender recollections of the night before us. I had felt amazing to be wrapped up in a near permanent embrace throughout the night. It had felt like I was his, truly his. But right now I felt more like a common whore than someone to be treasured.

I knew it wasn't any fault of his own. We had just fallen out of sexual sync during the night, was all. And we could still get back on track, so long as we didn't get discouraged about it. And even that thought started to bring me back to it. He trusted me enough to listen to me when I wasn't in the mood. And I trusted him enough to know my words wouldn't hurt his ego, or ruin the night, or anything like that. It was just, trust which went both ways. It sounded like a simple thing, but it was hard to find. It meant the world to me that I had found it with my bull.

"Sure thing." He said simply. He was respectful as always, but couldn't quite keep the disappointment from his voice. But that wasn't quite right. It wasn't disappointment, but a sort of hurt in his tone. He wasn't hurt because I rejected his sexual advance. He hurt because maybe he thought he had hurt me. And I could tell he was hurt, or at least concerned, when he started to tenderly scritch the fur on my back. He didn't so much have claws like a lot of mammals did, but his fingers were strong and he had adamant nails. They traced lines in my back as pointedly as any claws could, and they were comforting and reassuring with each trace he made.

"I just, didn't feel like being fisted, I guess." I said, finally. "You could have said something." "I didn't know until just now."

He didn't make a response to that, but I knew that he knew. Sometimes in sex that just happened, and it wasn't anyone's fault. What's important is that I spoke up the moment it happened, and he backed off right away. It might have soured some of the sexual air between us, but that was for sure better than letting something like that go unannounced.

After a moment he said, "I know it's not anyone's fault. But I'm sorry. I think I misread the situation." "I think you did too." I said, but it was more teasing than anything. I even wiggled my rear to signal that everything was okay, but I'm not sure he bought it. "You okay?" "I'm fine." Then I added, "Really, I'm good." "That's good."

Then we were silent again. He kept being tender and nice with me. He kept tracing lines in my fur, taking care not to use his offending, exceptionally lubricated hand. I was able to relax and get comfortable again, not just physically (that would be hard to do for a while, still. My ass still stung in the shadow of his fist), but emotionally as well. I started to purr, even, which wasn't something we often achieved. I usually didn't let my guard down that way. To me that signaled being just a bit too comfortable, or too vulnerable. But I felt nice in his presence. Once more, it felt like I was safe Thrad, more safe than I'd ever been. Even the occasional, mistimed fisting couldn't change that.

"What do you want?" He finally asked. "I want you in me." I said easily. "Your dick, that is." "You're sure?" "I'm positive, Thrad."

I turned to look at him. There was still concern in his eyes, which was better than seeing him be hurt. For being such a dom I could tell he was an emotional person, too, and he really did care for me. Sooner or later I needed to stop telling myself that that care was all in my head. If I was emotional about us (which I needed to start being honest about), it stood to reason he might be emotional about us as well. And choosing to ignore that was doing both of us a tremendous injustice. So I decided to lean into it. In spirit of that decision I leaned into his kiss, and it was more tender than how we normally kissed. There was minimal tongue, and more lip work than usual - and it was nice. Not carnal, but more sensual. It was just the kiss I needed to set things on the right track. At the same time I let myself lean in emotionally as well. If I could trust him completely on a sexual level, I could trust him in this, too. But on a surface level things probably didn't look all that different. We were holding each other, though I was so small in his arms it was more like he was the one holding me.

When our kiss broke his expression had changed. It had softened, and I knew he trusted me too. He trusted that I was okay, and that I did want him in me. And I knew he wanted to be in me too. But I got the impression that it was more than that. It looked like there was something more in his eyes, maybe like a reflection of what I knew was in mine.

Then the cadence of our night took a different turn. I motioned him onto his back and I straddled him. His cock had softened a good bit since our play had come to a halt. But that didn't need to be a bad thing. He was still firm enough to angle and maneuver, and in his semi-hard state I knew he'd fit in me readily. I motioned for the lube, and this time I applied it myself. I slicked him up nice and good, and slicked myself up as well. I followed the precedent he'd set for the night and was gratuitous in my application. I didn't want to have to stop to reapply later. I wanted smooth sailing. The night deserved that - we both did.

While not entirely flaccid, he was still soft enough that it was a little hard to get him in. Not because I was tight - I'd had his entire fist in me to stretch me out, after all. His dick just wasn't fully cooperative. Like maybe it, too, was a little shy that our sexual energies had fallen out of sync. But then I did get him angled right, and I leaned back on him in just the right way. And then he was in.

His dick filled me not unlike it filled my throat just earlier in the night. It's an odd descriptor, but he sort of squished inside of me, his dick filling the crevasses inside me easily. It was like when he filled my throat before he was hard. Usually his cock commanded my insides (be it my ass or my throat) to form around him. So this more measured, gentle start to sex was a nice change of pace. It wasn't something we typically did, if ever. It helped mark that tonight felt different than the other times we'd had sex. And because he was easier to take in right now, it was easier to focus on other elements of our intimacy.

I moved his hands to my chest, motioning for him to work with my nipples. He made gentle circles around them, even loving ones. It was just a light amount of teasing, and it felt exactly right. And I took care to move my body smoothly, fluidly. Sensually. I wasn't meaning to put on a show for him. Rather I was just leaning into the sensual energies I felt. Tonight was nice, this exact moment in his bed was nice. And sure his cock felt nice inside me, even though it wasn't all the way hard. But it was more like Thrad felt nice, in his entirety. His cock was in me, but in a way it felt like all of him was in me. Yes, our bodies were mingling together in the most intimate way possible. But maybe we were mingling in other ways as well, ways which were impossible to describe.

We hardly broke eye contact, save to take in each other's body. He watched my form move upon him, and he left my nipples to run lines along some of my stripes. He traced along my chest and my abdomen. He lightly groped my sides, enough to make his desire known, but not enough to be commanding about it. For the first time in our sexual career he wasn't taking me, and it's hard to say whether I was taking him or not. It was most like we were taking each other.

I took his form in as well. He was so large below me, and riding him as I was I could almost feel him in a new light. He seemed different than when we usually fucked. His chest somehow seemed soft, although it was the same black, velvety fur draped along the same well defined muscles. He was as broad as ever, but he seemed exposed now, and vulnerable. Usually his presence was so massive, and larger than life, and more commanding than anything I'd known. But he was different now, more honest, and more himself. It wasn't some impressive hunk of a man below me and inside me. It was Thrad, who was my... well, he was Thrad. I didn't want to make it more complicated than that.

I gasped then as he hit that bend inside me. He had started to get harder, and his presence in my ass was becoming known. I couldn't keep him hilted inside me without maneuvering him deeper. But thankfully I'd applied more than enough lube, and it seemed my insides were still stretched enough from our extreme fucking just hours earlier. I leaned backwards and wriggled around atop him. I felt his head moving inside me, and when it came to the right spot I pushed down just enough. Because he was still growing hard he was able to get deeper inside me with relative ease. He didn't even jerk his way inside me like it so often happened. And sometimes it was initially uncomfortable for him to be so deep. I usually had to take a moment to adjust, and get used to his thickness so deep inside me. But right now our sex was fluid. He slid into me, and how that he'd reached that benchmark inside me his dick could grow as big as it wanted to. And grow it did.

I stayed leaning back to make sure I kept a straight shot for his cock. He didn't buck against me, he still let me control the motions and the flow of our sex. So I worked upon him and felt him grow larger inside me. In equal measures I felt him grow within my hole, and that constricting bend within me. He didn't just start to fill my insides, but to truly stretch them. Especially in those deeper parts of me (you know, the parts that he didn't fist) I could feel his size acutely. But I had worked him on me enough that he had grown to full hardness, and I was comfortable with him inside me, too. Then I knew I could lean forward again, and he would stay well within me. And we could have sex just as we always did, and I was stretched and relaxed enough that we could do any position under the sun, which usually we did. But tonight was different. There was only one position I wanted. It was this one.

I leaned forward and we met eye contact again. We were loving, then, and I lowered myself into a loving kiss. Again, tongue was minimal, when our kisses were usually half tongue at least. And while we were kissing I ever so gentle fucked myself on his cock. It was small thrusts, tender thrusts. And our breathing got heavy together, and his hands on my sides got more firm, and a little desperate as well. I broke our kiss and set my forehead to his and smiled a big, goofy smile.

"Go ahead." I said. Then it was Thrad's turn to control our cadence. I wasn't sure what to expect, since his go to was fuck-this-boy-to-hell-and-back. I recalled so many times that he lifted me upon his dick like he might lift a sex doll of some sort. But he didn't manhandle me like he always did. Instead his hands just held me in place, but not even all that forcefully (I could have moved myself about if I wanted to). He did the work with his hips, just like I'd been doing the same. But I had focused mainly on gyrating atop him to achieve those small thrusts. Instead Thrad did actual thrusts, but still they were small ones. I was propped a little bit in the air, so he could raise his hips to meet my ass and hilt himself inside me. Then he lowered himself back onto the bed, and raised himself again.

The effect was that minimal effort was spent on our physical fucking. The rest of our attention could go to each other, and it did. We kissed a lot, and felt each other up. I couldn't get enough of his fur in my hands. I wanted to feel his entire chest in my grasp, though of course I couldn't get more than a small section at a time. So I took my time with each section in turn. I felt his entire body below me. I became acquainted with each curve. I felt where one muscle gave way to the next, and through my hands I could feel the workings of the machine which was pushing his dick within me. I was noticing him in his completeness for the firsts time. He had always been just a huge wall of bull to me. On the hornier of days he was little more than a massive, walking cock. And I was his itty-bitty twink. His "little cat" he liked to say, or kitten, depending on his mood. But I could tell that right now I was more than that as well, just like he was more to me. He was taking in my form alright, and his hands were exploring me as well. But he wasn't noticing just my body, or the parts of me which bucked against him. He saw me for all that I was.

Then we were kissing again, and together our bucking grew more intense. His breath got heavy and I couldn't help but moan. I sounded different to myself. I wasn't moaning like a needy bitch in heat. I was just, moaning. Because I moaning in time with Thrad's panting and grunts (or was he moaning as well?), and we were together. Not just together in impending climax. Just, together, in so many ways, and for better or worse.

I had to pull myself up from his embrace then. He was so deep within me, and filling me so completely, and he felt so amazing with his strokes, and I was so very close. I just needed him at the slightest different angle. I had to lean back to achieve it, then I started bucking against him as he was bucking against me. Still he didn't force me down on his cock, his hands were more exploring than commanding. Then they explored to my groin, and for the first time in the night I felt his hands upon me.

I didn't cum instantly, but I nearly did. What stopped me was the flood of emotional energy which came with his hand on my member. It felt like a circuit was made complete. He was in me, tenderly in me, and taking me as surely as I was taking him. At the same time he was so gently stroking at my cock, satisfying me in two ways at once. I felt more sexually complete, then. I felt like he wanted me the way I wanted him. And he wanted to take care of me. Somehow, with his tender cock inside me, and his hand wrapped gently around me - I felt like he loved me.

I looked at him in a way I can't describe. And he returned the look, and my moaning escalated, and grew louder and then breathless. I knew he was moaning as well, and I knew that was atypical but I didn't care. Thrad came explosively, his orgasms didn't come quietly in the night. But I knew he was close to climax, in a needing and loving way. And I was on the threshold too, and I might have beat him to it, but I couldn't hold back, and even if I could have I wouldn't have tried. I arched my back in a full bodied orgasm, and my dick was shooting cum as well. My eyes were closed in ecstasy so I couldn't tell if I'd landed cum on his muzzle or not (but the angle was right for that, and I'm sure I had enough cum in me to do it). But again, I didn't care. I couldn't possibly care, because I was taken with emotion. I wouldn't call it sheer orgasm, or ecstasy. I was taken, entirely. Taken by the only man I wanted to take me.

Thrad released my cock which was still throbbing a bit in post climax, and he held me close. It was almost impossibly close, even though the grip wasn't nearly as tight as it could be. He was just hugging me, and thrusting into me. It was similar to when he took control of me, and fucked me mercilessly, but it had a different flavor, a different tone. I could swear there was more love than lust in the way he thrust into me.

He didn't last more than a few additional pumps into me when he pushed up with his hips, and hilted inside me, and groaned in time with his throbbing cock deep within me. Typically Thrad roared, or yelled, or if it was a smaller climax he might do a few grunts. But this time he groaned, and I could feel him throbbing still. I knew his cum was filling me. Once again he was making me his. But this time it felt like so much more.

He stayed hugging me for a time, keeping his dick inside me. Although he was softening he was still well large enough to stay comfortably inside. And I didn't dare move. My knees were weak in the energy of our sex, and my cock was so spent from its release. But more than this it felt like something deep within me was fulfilled, something his cock couldn't dream of reaching. And I didn't want to risk that sensation to leave.

But it didn't leave. It stayed when he exited me. It was still there when he held me. For the rest of the night we held each other, and still that nameless sensation was there. I was in his arms, his small little cat. And he was in mine. He was my bull, and the only person I wanted to take me. But maybe that wasn't quite right. I think it was closer to say that he was the only one I wanted to give myself to.

We slept together, then. I had no more reservations on thoughts of attachment, or getting too close, or trying to hold back. I was beyond that, he was beyond that. And as we fell asleep together I was more content than I'd ever been in my life. And for the first time I had no question in my mind. I felt it in the way he came inside me. I could feel it now in the way he held me. Even the way his breath sounded as I rested my head on his chest was different.

Love was a scary word, and so I refrained to use it. But I would reach that point in time. And, given enough time, I knew Thrad would find that word as well.