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Some couples, I'm told, sleep in the same position every night. They each get used to a side of the bed. Sherman and I aren't like that. Sometimes, we're side by side. Sometimes, he curls up at the foot of the bed, above or beneath the covers. Sometimes, he falls asleep on top of me, or resting his head on my belly. On this particular night, I had more specific plans.

I retrieved the plug he'd worn, lubed it up, and slid it back inside him with a wet popping sound. I turned it to a low setting, just enough to rile him up a bit, remind him of his arousal, his deep need, but not enough to send him into spasmodic fits again. Using an old muzzle-harness, I fastened the precum-soaked rags from Sherman's long day of begging over his sensitive pink nose, allowing him to take in the rich scent of his own arousal with each breath. I arranged us in an almost 69 position, our heads resting on each other's inner thighs. Under the blankets his cloth-covered nose just brushed my well-satisfied balls, while at the head of the bed, my own muzzle faced his needy ones. My shaggy cheek rested on the fine, white softness of his right inner thigh, while his left leg extended over my head. I wanted him to smell his own need and my musk, to dream of arousal and lust and me. Before long, despite his condition, the exhausted rabbit fell asleep, his body moved only in soft, regular breaths, broken only by tiny occasional twitches in his plush pelt.

I had quite a pleasant view of his caged bunny bits, and the base of his gently rumbling plug poking out between the soft mounds of his rump. Each breath took in the scent of his pre forming in occasional beads on his cage, an endless font of the stuff due to the desperate, unsatisfied flesh within. He smelled of bunny, of Sherman, of need. It mingled with my own scent, cum escaping from around his plug, leaking into his fine fur. I fell asleep with a faint smile on my face: he even smells like he needs me.

~~~~~~~~~~

"Sherman? . . . Sherman?" I called to him gently, running the fingers of my right paw through the rich fur of his chest, rising and falling gently with each breath.

His eyes fluttered open. "Oh-ish? Ash-uh?"

It must have been strange for him, to awaken gagged and bound, fully exposed on the bed. The blankets were gone, his plug was gone, and each limb was bound to a different corner of the bed. If I'd tied him any tighter it would have hurt him. I almost never gag my Pet. I want to know what he has to say, and even when I do tie him up, even when I punish him, I want to know if he's reacting appropriately, or if he's hurting. This morning was different. I had filled his mouth with a plug, a smaller scale model of my own member (another of Sherman's little toys for which I'm not sure he knows the full expense), narrowed just before the base for comfortable wear, and closed his jaws around it with the muzzle harness. I usually only use that for attaching blindfolds, scents, or occasionally a leash. I calmed him, smiling down into his sky-blue eyes, stroking a long ear with one paw.

"Shh-shh-shh, my Pet, no need to worry. It was quite a job tying you up while you slept. I was afraid you'd wake up long before I was ready."

It was true, although I've noticed that as he's grown used to sleeping by me, he's slept through more and more of my movements, even when I move him. Nevertheless, it had been a long and slow process, beginning with my own exceptionally early morning alarm (we have separate alarms for work, and pretty much always sleep through each other's).

He was still struggling, testing the straps binding each limb, wiggling his neck and his hips, discovering that there was very little he could move, and the plug wasn't leaving his muzzle.

"You've been such a perfect Pet, Sherman: so very, very good to me, and now it's time for your reward."

His ears perked up at the mention of his reward. His eyes became questioning. Hadn't I promised his reward yesterday? Hadn't he sacrificed it to please his Master?

"Ash-uh?" His question was muffled by the gag.

"I know, my Pet. You're so eager to please me, so ready to sacrifice your own pleasure for mine. Even at the brink of release, you'd be worried about what I wanted, whether you were doing right by me, if you should hold a different pose or say something differently." My big green bear-eyes softened: "But I want you to let go, my beautiful bunny boy, to release, at least for an instant. I need you to know that no move you can make, nothing you can say is going to stop me from pleasuring you, from rewarding you. I want you to accept this, wholly, and without worrying about doing or saying the right thing, without regretting somehow having avoided sacrificing your needs for mine yet again. With these bonds, I set you free."

I know the last line was cheesy. I'd thought for a long time about how to explain it, and that's the best I could come up with. The pleading gratefulness in his eyes was enough: he understood. I bent to kiss him on the muzzle, his lips being blocked by the gag, just above where the cloth drenched in the scent of his own arousal still covered his nose. The key dangling from the loose chain around my neck fell into the ruffled fur of his chest.

As I drew myself down his form, paws savoring every last helpless inch of him, I drew my head through its chain, leaving the key on his belly. I took up a position kneeling between his spread legs, reached for the key, and unlocked his chastity cage, still leaking copious precum. As I lifted his steel prison away, his full seven inches of throbbing desperate cock leapt to attention, eliciting a gagged gasp of surprise on his part. The scent of his bunny desire, marinated in its own juices all night, wafted to my nose, igniting my lust.

I couldn't help myself. With the faintest possible grip I ran my right paw along his length, feeling the heat of his arousal, his heartbeat quickening, pulsing through it.

"Ahahahaa," he moaned, already so very sensitive after his long denial.

I brought my paw down to his fluffy sac, its short downy fur dampened in places with the constant dribbling from his cage, a narrow band still pressed down from where the cage gripped it. I held his balls gently in one enormous paw, like heavy rock-hard limes, swollen and desperate in their loose, fuzzy sac.

My own sheath was filling rapidly, my black tip just poking out, eager to satisfy my arousal. This moment, however, was not for me. It was for my perfect Pet. I got onto my elbows and knees, my stubby bear tail and broad, shaggy rump high in the air. My nose brushed the underside of my rabbit's pink cock.

I pressed the thick fur of my right forearm into my Pet's plush right inner thigh, my right paw gently cupping his balls. My left forearm pressed into his left thigh; my left forefinger dug under his tail to trace tiny circles around his well-lubed pucker. His breathing was heavy, expectant, like he was still trying to hold his body under control.

My own arousal was building, my cock extending between my legs, hanging beneath my belly, excited with the vicarious pleasure of what I planned to do for my bunny.

With short, quick laps I began to taste his length, licking at first at the wet patch in his fur at the base of his pink pulsing cock, working my way upwards along the sensitive underside. I could taste his sweat, his musk, his lust, his frustration, feel his heart in each throbbing vein, the tension in his muscles in each involuntary twitch. He let out muffled whimpers of anticipation around his gag. He was still holding back.

Dragging the tip of my broad, rough tongue slowly, oh so achingly slowly down the length of his arousal, I began to work my left forefinger into his pucker. Already lubed and stretched from a night with his plug, it slid in easily, digit by digit, squirming to stretch and excite every corner of his insides. With my right paw, I gently rolled his overfull balls against each other, grinding them slowly this way, then that: nothing painful, but more than enough to remind him of my grip.

"Mmmmmmhhhhhhh . . ." he moaned, lips wrapped around the plug fastened after my own cock, no doubt tasting and sucking at the replica in the desperate hope of spurring me on.

With one long, lingering lick I pressed the full width and length of my wide, wet bear tongue to the base of his arousal, dragging the rough surface up his length millimeters at a time. I could feel pre working its way through his shaft as it dribbled from his tip. I began to press the tip of another finger under his tail, alongside the first, writhing both fully inside him, tickling, stretching, twisting his muscular passage, prodding, pressing, teasing his prostate by the time my tongue reached his tip.

I squeezed his sac firmly, pressuring his pent-up orbs harder than before, just as I brought my lips to a kiss upon his tip, sucking in his sweet dribbles of anticipation, so ready for what was to come.

At last his control slipped. His hips bucked, spasmed, beyond his control, forcing his tip into my muzzle as my lips locked behind it, suckling, nursing on him as he brought his thrusts to a gentle roll, my head bobbing up and down with his pelvis.

"Uhhh . . . ahh. . . ." he moaned with each thrust, as if he feared he might be doing something wrong.

I could taste the salty, needy slime of his pre beginning to squirt, more than dribble onto my tongue as I alternately lapped and ground it into his glans, pausing between each, careful not to bring him too far, too fast. My right paw returned to grinding his balls against each other, a little firmer, a little faster now. With each roll of his hips, my fingers thrust into him, barely by a digit or so, a gentle fucking rewarded with passionate waves of clenching pressure.

I am not nearly so experienced at this as is my beautiful bunny Pet, but there's no way he can advise me now. His moans are pierced with occasional squeaks of delight, his rolling hips growing into thrusts. My own arousal is raging, beads of precum forming from my tip, ignored between my legs as I focus on my Pet.

With each buck of his hips I let him further in, nursing on more and more of his shaft, running my tongue along it, welcoming his raging cock head deeper into my muzzle before drawing it out again to suckle upon his tip. Sometimes I can feel his balls begin to tense, his tail hole clenches down, and I wait, lips just touching him, as his body retreats from the brink.

Finally we've worked our way into a rhythm, his thrusts growing wilder, needier as he pushes himself into my muzzle farther and farther. I let less and less of him out each time, working him deeper and deeper, my tongue rolling up and down along his length, my throat accepting and swallowing his tip (I have at least enough experience to manage that much) until at last my nose presses into the sweaty, silky fur of his crotch.

I hold there for a moment, my big brown bear head keeping pace with his bucking bunny hips, my right paw gripping and grinding his balls, my left fingering and fucking his hole while my forearms press into is clenching and rolling inner thighs. I let my throat adjust, get a feel for his length in my muzzle, swallow his desperately squirting pre.

"mmmhh . . . Mmmmmmmhh . . . MMMMMHHH!" His gagged moans scream desperately for renewed pleasure along his length, and I have every intention of giving it to him.

As he pulls his hips from my muzzle, impaling his rump upon my paw, bouncing against the now creaking bed-springs, I lift my lips, letting all of him out, until we barely touch, before bringing my muzzle back down again as he rises to meet me. We resume our rhythm, his frantic thrusts bouncing against the bed as his arms and legs writhe, pulling desperately against the restraints, his right leg spasming, trying to stamp against the air, his whole body throwing itself into my maw.

I squeeze and clench at his fuzzy, frustrated balls even as he squeezes and clenches upon the writhing fingers fucking beneath his tail, my whole head bobbing along his pink seven inches, thudding into his soft silken crotch-fur with each thrust.

I can feel the pressure, the muscles coiling up deep within him. I can feel it in his thighs, in his rump, in his balls, in his cock. I can hear it in his breath, his squeaks and cries. I can smell it in his sweat, taste it in his pre. He's almost ready to give in. His iron self-control nears the breaking point. He's so close to letting go, to accepting it, to release.

With as much suction as I can manage I lift my muzzle, slurping, drawing him completely out of me before slamming back into him with the next thrust, pressing, squeezing, slurping at him with my tongue, my lips, my throat. His balls are so tense, his sac so taught, drawing in for the climax.

I ram a third finger under his tail as he lifts his hips for the next thrust, forcing all three deep inside him as he falls back. I grip his balls, squeeze them hard, enough that it would hurt if he weren't to enter orgasm soon, so very soon.

With one final thrust I let his cock fall until I'm just kissing it again, drawing one final deep breath before I make him force his way in, lips and cock slick with pre and saliva, past my resisting mouth, my pressing tongue. Just as his tip breaks inside I resume sucking as hard as I can, drawing all the way in, driving my nose into his fur until he's all I can see, all I can feel, all I can smell, all I can hear, all I can taste.

I clench my fist around his sac and drive my fingers under his tail, prodding, writhing, enraging his prostate, lifting him as he thrusts upwards into me, his hips forced off the bed as he pushes himself up on his spread-eagled limbs, back arching, toes clenching, screaming through his gag.

A blast of arousal, of need, of frustration, a month's pent up desire and long-delayed pleasure, an incredible, forceful, rocket of searing hot, rich, white bunny seed fires into my throat.

"AAAAAAAAAHHH," my Pet screams through his gag until his lungs run out of air, every muscle in his body squeezing and clenching, as if a molten core of rabbit essence had to be drained from every inch of him, forced through his length, pumped into my eager muzzle as orgasm wracked his body.

I tried, I really did, to swallow each drop my Pet had to offer, but I haven't the skill, and he had so much to give. By the time his first great orgasmic spasm was over, before he could even draw in breath again, cum poured from my mouth: over my teeth, down my tongue, dribbling from my slurping lips into our mingled fur. Its heavy, salty flavor carried a month's concentrated musky potency.

He came in wave after wave, pumping rope after rope with those great, whole-body heaves, emptying a month of denial into his willing Master. I held out as long as I could, resisting my own need to breathe, sucking, slurping, swallowing, working his length with my tongue. When at last he slowed to mere spurts, his orgasmic screams to breathless squeaks, I allowed a couple of inches of him to slip out, just enough for a deep breath through my nose before drawing him back in again.

I sucked and swallowed, drawing every last drop of bunny cum from him until he had utterly collapsed. He lay on the bed, chest heaving, heart still racing. My fingers ceased their teasing under his tail, merely resting there. My paw let up on his sac. His fuzzy orbs were softer, more tender, maybe even a little smaller. His still dribbling cock began at last to soften in my muzzle. I let him rest, waited for him to be ready, knowing that his ass, his balls, his cock would ache from such a monumental release. When his breathing at last slowed, his cock fully flaccid, I gently removed my paws from him, and lifted my head, letting him slip free of my lips.

He was so beautiful, finally satisfied. His eyes were closed, probably just barely asleep, ears relaxed in contentment. His chest and belly rose and fell in slow, even breaths, his pelt unmarred by tense twitches. He was still bound, still spread-eagled, still so helpless, but so indescribably happy. For the first time in so very long, even his cock rested, placated, upon his finally satiated balls.

I undid the muzzle-harness, freeing his nose from its precum-soaked rags, easing the plug from his muzzle. I beamed down at his sleeping form, so very glad my reward was pleasing my Pet.