Pet's Reward (Part 3 of 5): Pet's Needs
#3 of Pet's Reward
It had been a long day for Sherman, without any breaks. I lead him to the bathroom, and waited a long time while he emptied his bladder. When he was done, and I followed him in, the relief on his face was obvious. I got out the enema kit, removed his plug, and without getting in to too much detail, cleaned his insides thoroughly. He was too tired to do much besides enjoy the intimate attention.
We showered together, making sure as always to run soapy and then clean water through his cage, cleaning as best as is possible the needy bunny cock imprisoned within. I scrubbed the scents of sweat and arousal from our fur, making sure to work his favorite conditioner through every inch of his pelt, kneading my broad paws over each of his sinewy muscles.
Before long, I was preparing dinner while Sherman napped, a clean ball of fluff curled up in an armchair. I smiled to myself as I thought over my plans. He would be rewarded.
Dinner was a butternut squash soup, beet salad and mushroom gnocchi, with raspberries and cream for dessert. I'd done most of the work the day before, while he was out. Sherman awoke to find the table fully-laid. I even lit candles. It might even have been formal if we weren't both clad only in fur. I wanted to show that I cared for him, that I wanted to provide him with the best, that I'd see to everything for him.
He blushed again, just sitting down to dinner. We shared some wine, ate, talked for a long time about work, friends, and plans. He offered to do the dishes when we were done, but I told him they could wait.
We watched an old movie, and some late-night comedy shows on the television. I sprawled at one end of the couch, while Sherman curled up next to me, his head in my lap. I'd scritch him between the ears with one paw occasionally, the other just resting on the soft fluff of his rump. It was such a perfect feeling: his loyal devotion and my protective, caring, gentle embrace.
It was getting late when Sherman finally got up, stretching his arms and ears in a yawn, and announced that he was going to bed. There was a lascivious glint in his eye.
This is a subtle difference between a Pet and a slave: a slave does not make these decisions. A slave does not leave his Master's side unless commanded. A Pet is free to do whatever he wants (well, within certain bounds). He can sleep when and where he chooses.
My eyes followed that perky poof-ball tail poking out over those two taught rabbit buns as he padded into the bedroom. I knew what he had planned. I turned off the TV, my sheath already beginning to fill, and followed him, ready to see to my Pet's needs.
I turned into the bedroom doorway to find him already on the bed, on all fours, waiting for me. His rump was in full view, his tail held as high as he could lift it, the pure white fur of his heart-shaped bottom perfectly framing his puckered pink tail-hole, almost stretched as he tried to arch that stubby tail over his back. The steel band securing the chastity cage around his sac drew it tight, displaying his perfect pair below his perky rear. His face was turned around his left shoulder, ears lowered and cheeks bright pink under his short, white fur. His eyes held that begging, needy stare again. He was presenting to me.
The tip of my fast-growing black arousal began to spill from my shaggy brown sheath as a grin broke out over my muzzle.
"I think I know what my bunny Pet wants," I teased as I padded across the room, running my fingertips gently down his back, feeling the fine fur along either side of his spine. I was going to tease him, just a little, first.
Placing my forepaws on the edge of the bed behind him, I brushed either side of my muzzle with his soft tail before pressing my face between his fluffy buns, nose downward toward his swollen fuzzy sac, luxuriating in the plush warmth of it, the welcoming embrace as he pressed gently against me. I inhaled deeply, smelling his clean fur, his renewed arousal, the need in his balls and the pre already forming in his cage. This warm, fluffy rear wanted me. He needed me to take hold of him, to mount him, to fuck him.
I drew my muzzle upward between his furry mounds, drawing slowly away from him, savoring the feel of his tail over my forehead, mingling with my own longer, coarser fur. My black cock had pulled free of my sheath, and waited eagerly. I gazed over him, my own green eyes meeting his pleading blue ones.
"Does my Pet want his Master inside him?" I asked with the tone of a Master to a Pet. He didn't need to answer, but he wanted to.
"Please Master, oh please," he whined softly.
I reached over to the bedside table, extracting a bottle of lube. He moaned, closing his eyes and writhing a little as I worked a well-lubed finger under his tail, pressing in each digit carefully, wiggling into every space I could reach. I extracted it just as slowly, applied plenty more lube, and started again with two fingers.
There is something magical about Sherman's behavior when chaste. After a while (and a month was more than long enough), he becomes so very eager to please. He still could be obstinate, insist on doing things his own way or getting what he wanted, but he wanted so desperately to please me. Of course, he always wanted that, but the chastity enhances it. He also becomes so very receptive to sexual pleasures beyond his own locked cock. Even stroking his back or ears could ignite his arousal. The way he moaned and writhed, clenched and rolled his hips against my two probing fingers, you'd think he was nearing orgasmic bliss already.
"I know the cage must be uncomfortable, but the way it makes you so eager, and the way it makes you move your rump . . . " I pressed into his prostate, eliciting a breathless gasp, "you give me such pleasure." I intone the last word with a low, carnivorous growl, extracting my fingers from the bunny, and taking hold of my own throbbing cock.
With some more lube and a few stokes, my own arousal is rock-hard and dripping. I return the lube to the bedside table, and grip my rabbit's soft waist with my broad paws. I press my length between the soft, tight mounds of his rabbit rump, sliding it gently up and down, savoring his plush fur against my shaft, his poofy tail teasing my glans.
"Please . . ." my Pet breathes, oh so softly, desperate for what's to come.
Achingly slowly, fighting my body's instinct to rut him like a bitch in heat, I align my drooling tip with his slick pucker, and begin to press into him. He stretches slowly to accommodate my three inch girth. The plug and plenty of experience have kept him able to take me without much discomfort. He still whimpers slightly, more out of anticipation than pain, as my cock head pops into him. Prepared or not, that bunny butt is tight. We both wait there for just a moment, adjusting, feeling the heat and the pressure. Lust floods my mind, making it harder and harder to resist my thighs' pleads to thrust with all my might.
When he's ready, he squeezes around me, just briefly, wriggling his eager rump just a little bit. It's like a pulse of arousal through my body. I must push into him.
As slowly as I can manage, I feed my throbbing, desperate length into his tight, heated tail-hole. His breathing is heavy, his face tight in concentration as he forces himself to relax, taking in his Master. He gasped as I grazed that nut deep inside him, his prostate grown so sensitive with his long denial.
For the last few inches his quiet whimpering returned. I am always careful not to hurt my Pet, but it's always a stretch for him to take my broad bear cock a full eight inches deep. When at last I hilt him, my wooly crotch fur pressing into his poofy, almost painfully lifted tail, my low-hanging shaggy balls resting against his taught, fluffy sac, we pause again. I want to make sure he's ready for what's next.
I bring myself down over his back, my forepaws on the bed, my broad bear frame enclosing and containing his more delicate one. I'm careful not to crush his tail as it folds gently to one side. My stomach and chest presses into his back, our fur brushing into each other's skin. He lets out an "ooh" of anticipation. With my upper-arms pressed against his shoulders, I begin to rock my hips.
I pull out of him, barely and inch at first, before pressing back to hilt him. My balls swing into his, his rump fits into my crotch. With each thrust I draw a little further, a little faster. His appreciative little squeaks as I hilt him again and again grow more desperate. The fur between his back and my belly caresses us both back and forth as the roll of my hips becomes passionate thrusting, falling into an unrelenting rhythm as I give in to the longing in my loins.
My body, big and strong, pins, mounts, surrounds, and fucks his smaller, weaker one. With each thrust, the sliding of fur, slapping thud of increasingly wet balls rings out. He squeaks and moans, and my pants turn increasingly to growls. As my cock ravages his insides, he writhes and squeezes, clenches and bucks into my hips, yearning for the sweet grinding of my girth against his prostate, that stretching, filling feeling with each thrust. The air fills with the scent of sex: of sweat and breath, of the precum dribbling from his hole and from his cage, of lube and of testosterone, of bunny and bear.
Our pace quickens as we give in to instinct, to animal lust. His right leg spasms again, jerking against my inner thigh. I love it when he does that. I can feel myself unlocking his most basic desires. My sac draws my balls against my body, slamming now into his rump with each plunge into his tail hole. He squeezes and clenches, throws himself into each of my thrusts, desperate to draw pleasure out of me, to experience my own orgasm deep inside him, the only orgasm he can feel.
My heart is racing, my breath a series, of heavy, ragged low animalistic growls. Each thrust washes my skin in pleasure, sends jolts of lust through my spine. My rabbit Pet's arousal has reached intolerable levels, his eyes closed, his humping frantic, out of control. For a moment, I bring my right forepaw up, under his belly to steady him, before he thrusts his cage and over-eager balls helplessly into it, desperate for a reach-around he can't experience.
Returning to all fours, I give in totally to my need, hips pounding away, pumping my length in and out of that needy, clenching, slick, hot tail-hole. My balls are so tight, and I can feel the pressure welling up inside me, the muscles beginning to clamp down. My head rolls back in one mighty roar, punctuated by two deep slams into my Pet before I place my jaws over his left shoulder, just to hold him, as I push into him one last time.
I erupt into his writhing, clenching rabbit-hole. My jaws, my arms, my whole body pin him, force me into him as he jerks with need, unable to bring himself over the edge, no matter how close he feels. I let out a long, deep growl into his shoulder as I fill him with blast after blast of rich, hot bear seed, hips bucking slightly in their prolonged thrust as each rope pumps into that white fluffy bunny rump. His breaths are ragged gasps and moans, his wriggling body still desperate for an impossible orgasm, still drooling pre from his cruelly confined cock, still serving mine.
I held him there for a long time, enjoying his tight, needy embrace as I finished, drooling into him. I lifted my head, and rested my chin on his now damp shoulder as I waited for him to relax too, or at least to adjust to his yet-higher state of unending, unsatisfied arousal. His right leg still spasmed, his frame shook, he still panted and "oohed" and squirmed under me, but I am patient.
"Thank you, Master," he whispered, when at last he regained enough self-control to do so.
I let out an appreciative "murr," taking in the scent of him.
"I'm glad you enjoyed it. I know I did," I whispered back.
"Did I ever tell you," I said, head still resting on his shoulder, "that I can't imagine a better Pet?"