For those who have read my story "A Sweet Lesson," this is sort of a sequel. Some little time has passed, and Stripes (a Sonic-world based character owned by Stripes-the-Raccoon on FA, and who asked me to write this story) has become more trusting and even more fond of his lover/mentor, Taylor. True to his "teaching" nature, Taylor has a surprise in store for his young 'coon ward... a surprise which could have some dangerous consequences...

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A Binding Agreement

If there was one thing that Stripes had learned over the past several months, it was that luxury is something to be reveled in at every opportunity. The young raccoon lay back against the sloping, smooth marble-like side of the oversized tub, feeling the hot water soak his muscles and joints into a relaxation that was deliciously decadent. He hadn't been one of those kids who hated taking baths, but a life on the street made bathing problematic at best. His small hideout had the basic amenities, and showers could get the job done and be invigorating as well, but this...!

He shifted slightly, felt his spine offer a slight crackle of gratitude, and settled himself into an even more comfortable position. Minutes drifted away as he let himself feel gratitude as well to his mentor. Taylor Pershall - a master thief known as Weisspranke, the White Lion's Paw - had proven himself a dozen times over to be a true friend... and more (Stripes' tail twitched involuntarily at the happy thought). This hideout of his - to Stripes, it might as well have been a mansion, given its appointments - was safe, secure, and filled to the brim with things that made life so much more sweet. He'd given thought to Taylor's invitation to move in and call it home, but something in him hesitated. In some ways it was home, but a sort of second home, a place to come to for rest and pampering, not the place where you hid quietly, perhaps cramped but out of danger, less than luxurious but familiar and comforting, where you knew all the exits, all the ways to get out quickly if need be.

Rousing from his light doze, Stripes figured that he'd probably be wise to get out of the tub before his skin started to resemble a prune underneath his fur. Somewhat reluctantly, he let the water drain out, then stood and shook himself vigorously before reaching for one of the supremely absorbent, fluffy golden towels stocked near the tub. After a few moments, he felt warm, reasonably dry, and quite happily relaxed from tip to tail. He stepped into the bedroom that he usually used and was surprised to hear a voice greet him.

"Hi, sexy. Feel like getting all dirty again?"

Taylor's muzzle grinned ear to ear. The pure white German shepherd lay naked upon the bed, sprawled in as evocative a pose as Stripes had ever seen. Forepaws behind his head, Taylor's lean, muscled body seemed to take up an impossibly large space on the huge bed, one leg propped up with knee pointing to the ceiling, and the tip of his red canine cock peeking out from his sheath.

Grinning, the 'coon stepped toward the bed, dropping his towel. "Let's see if you're clean enough for me." In a swift move, he dove nose-first into the shepherd's crotch, inhaling deeply of the pup's powerful musk. The scent intoxicated him instantly, as it always did. Stripes felt himself carried away on a great tsunami of lust, his tongue flicking out to taste the sweetly salty ball sac, the base of the sheath, and the swiftly swelling slippery cock escaping its confines. He could hear Taylor's grunts of pleasure, his whimpers and moans, intensifying his desire with every sound. The shepherd, laughing, had to wriggle away and hold the 'coon's head and muzzle in order to get him to quit for a moment.

"You're always so intense," Taylor said, chuckling. "Not that it's a bad thing, mind! C'mere, you, cuddle with an old dog for a minute."

Stripes crawled upward, rubbing his body across his lover's, both of them well aware of each other's arousal. Grinning, the 'coon kissed Taylor long and deep, feeling the shepherd's forepaws rubbing his back and arms gently. The pup broke the kiss tenderly and smiled. "You smell delightfully of juniper and cedar," he said.

"I'd never even heard of that before I met you," Stripes said. "Now you've got me hooked on it." He nuzzled Taylor's neck gently. "Among other things."

"Mmm," the shepherd hummed approvingly. "As eager as you are today, perhaps I need to restrain you a bit."

Without warning, Stripes found himself rolled over onto the bed, Taylor above him and pinning him to the mattress with his forepaws on the 'coon's wrists and his legs holding down Stripes' legs quite firmly. He struggled a little and found that he wasn't going to get away easily.

"Ah, now I have you helpless!" Taylor chuckled. "Whatever shall I do with you?"

Stripes pulled harder with his arms, tried to get his legs to maneuver around the shepherd's, but he couldn't gain any purchase. He spat a short laugh and said, "Okay, you win, let me go."

"Oh, but I don't want to!" the pup feigned his disappointment, still smiling. "I want you all to myself, all tied up and nowhere to go."

"Funny," Stripes said, the smile on his face feeling less genuine by the second. "C'mon, Taylor, let me up."

"You know, I do have a few available restraints here... some cuffs, or nice velvet rope..."

The 'coon set his teeth hard, yanked his arms harder. "I said...!"

Before he could finish speaking, Stripes became aware of the sudden change in the look on Taylor's face - eyes widening, smile gone, ears forward... Taylor moved off of the 'coon, off of the bed, falling to the floor in a completely subservient pose, kneeling on his forepaws, head down, ears back, tail curled around his paws, looking at Stripes with an unreadable expression.

"Stripes... are you all right, my little one?"

Slowly, the 'coon sat up and looked at his mentor, completely confused. "Taylor, what--"

"I overstepped. Badly."

"I'm fine, what are you--"

"No, you're not." Taylor's eyes were wide open in a candor Stripes had not seen before. "I have no idea how deep it must run."

Stripes moved down the bed to sit on the floor in front of Taylor, tucking his tail around himself. "What are you talking about?"

The shepherd breathed slowly. "Your eyes. It's not something you would know about yourself unless someone else told you. You can't look into your own eyes, after all." Taylor peered, holding Stripes' gaze. "What color are your eyes, Stripes?"

"Blue," he said instantly. "Very blue, someone once said."

"Bright and deep as a summer sky, I would have said." Taylor shook his head. "They're a dark forest green right now. Getting better, but still much darker than usual."

The raccoon shook his head slightly. "I... I don't--"

"Eyes don't change color randomly. Many people never have their eyes change. Usually it happens because of something extremely stressful." The shepherd still hadn't moved. "Where's your tail, Stripes?"

"What, you can't see it?"

"Yes, I can. Curled around you. Protective. Holding close. As if you're frightened."

Stripes considered briefly, shook his head. "Nothing here to scare me, Taylor."

Even as he said it, the raccoon felt something turn over lazily in his mind, something about being afraid, of being withheld, of being... caught.

Taylor seemed to sense the change. "I was playing a game, Stripes. There can be a lot of fun in being gently restrained and having your partner tease and play with you. It never occurred to me to talk about it first, and that was my fault. I thought I'd built enough trust with you."

"I trust you, Taylor."

"Perhaps you do," the pup smiled softly. "But you don't trust being restrained. You welcome my embraces, but I think I frightened you just now. I felt your struggle and thought it playful at first, and then I saw your eyes... Stripes, love, I'm very sorry."

"You don't have to go through all this," Stripes chuckled softly. "I'm okay, really. Look." He reached out his forepaw to touch the shepherd's face gently. It took him a moment to realize that his paw was trembling. He looked at his paw, shaking gently in the air, then looked back to Taylor, feeling the confused look on his face.

"It runs very deep," Taylor said softly. "I truly had no idea of it."

"Maybe..." the 'coon replied, his voice cracking slightly, "maybe I don't either."

"May I hold you, love?"

Stripes felt his heart flutter slightly, was deeply hurt to realize that it wasn't love but fear. "Taylor, I... what's happening to me?"

"It's old, old fear, my love. Do you have any memory of it, of what might have happened?"

"No."

"Can you tell me what you're feeling now?"

In answer, Stripes got up on his knees and hugged Taylor close to him, trembling gently in his arms. His gut told him different stories, one of being afraid, one of being truly loved, and he really wanted to hear the latter story. He realized that Taylor had not reached out to him, that he was still kneeling on his forepaws, and Stripes came to understand why the shepherd was in the submissive position. Turning his muzzle to the shepherd's ear, he whispered, "Please hold me."

Slowly, tenderly, Taylor shifted and placed his forepaws onto Stripes' shoulders, not risking a tight embrace but touching firmly enough for the 'coon to know that he was there. They spent several minutes together, rocking gently back and forth as Stripes made himself relax and hold and trust. Despite all that Taylor had done for him over the past months, he felt ashamed that he still withheld something of himself. Yes, he thought. Whatever it is, it's deep.

After a long moment, Taylor moved to place a kiss upon the headband on Stripes' head - his silent reassurance, his promise to Stripes, sworn on the memory of the 'coon's parents. Stripes felt a flash of shame at doubting his lover. "Feeling better, sweetfur?" Taylor asked softly.

"Just embarrassed."

The shepherd shook his head. "No need. Come on, let's get back in bed."

They shifted, never quite losing touch with each other, until they lay together, close yet free. Taylor touched Stripes' muzzle tenderly, looking deeply into his eyes until the 'coon chuckled softly. "Still green?"

The shepherd smiled, shook his head. "Coming back to normal." He kissed Stripes long and lovingly, and the 'coon felt himself opening up again, feeling the love that Taylor had inspired in him. The pup pulled back, stroked Stripes' headfur. "I want to ask a favor of you, love. I want to make sure this doesn't come between us. We'll talk - not now, later. The favor I'm asking is that we won't just sweep this under a rug and pretend it's not there."

For a long moment, Stripes didn't answer. Taylor stayed quiet, letting him think, or whatever it was that his brain was trying to do (not so much "think" as "calm down," he felt). At length, he sighed, "Can I ask you why you did that? I mean, the restraints thing? What was that about?"

"Just another form of love play, Stripes. Not to everyone's tastes, certainly. And there's a wide range of that sort of play as well. I tend to be pretty mild with it, truth to tell. It's about sensations, as well as trust."

"Always seemed to me to be about torture or something."

"For some, maybe. Not me. Here... will you let me try a sort of thought experiment with you? You'll not be held down in any way. If you feel uncomfortable with anything, tell me and I'll stop at once."

"What do you want to do?"

"Explain." Taylor smiled softly. "I'm going to tell you everything that I want to do before I do it. This sounds weird, I know; I just want to keep that fear away from you. I'm going to start just by sitting up next to you, and you stay lying down. All right?"

Stripes nodded, surprised that he still felt something like fear curling delicately in his stomach. Taylor would never hurt him, he knew that. He just didn't know... what? Something about not liking surprises? Something about being... the word caught kept hovering around him, and he shook his head to clear it.

"You all right?"

"Yeah. Go ahead."

"Okay." The shepherd grinned. "You already know that there are ways that I could hold you down yet have you doing something you liked. For instance, if I knelt over your face, so that you could use that most excellent tongue on me..." Stripes felt a matching grin on his face. "See? That, you like. However, if I knelt on your biceps, holding them down - I won't do that, love, but I want to place just one finger on each bicep, about the place where my lower legs might be. Just one finger on each side, okay?"

Again, Stripes nodded. Taylor placed his fingers just as he said, and the 'coon felt his mind fighting his gut, danger, safety, danger, safety. He wondered if his eyes were turning colors.

"You can move at any time," the pup reminded him. "Move your arms, your hands - no restraint, right?"

"Yeah, I know." He coughed a little. "I guess it still feels weird."

Taylor removed his fingers and sat back. "Okay. Can you tell me what feels weird?"

"Not really." The 'coon didn't like to lie to Taylor, but the answer that came up for him sounded so silly, and so distrusting of his lover and mentor. It feels like you're forcing me, he was thinking. It feels like I have no choice, no say in the matter, and no way of getting out. No way to escape. No way to get free...

Of what? Stripes had no answer, and it made him feel ungrateful, unworthy, and deep down inside, very unhappy. He didn't want that with Taylor.

"Will you let me try one more thing?" The shepherd smiled, his eyes filled with more than a little lustful intent. "I want to give you the best blowjob you've ever had, even from me. I want to give to you, asking no reciprocation, doing nothing other than focusing entirely on your pleasure. And to do that, I need to know that you're going to lie there and love every moment of it. So... lay out your arms on the bed, extended away from you. And spread your beautiful legs for me, like that old illustration, remember? I'm going to move off the bed to give you some room."

Taylor made good his word, and Stripes splayed himself wide, his dark red shaft already beginning to swell again from the anticipation. He watched the shepherd move to the right side of the bed, near his right wrist, and he held up both forepaws.

"Nothing in my paws, love. I'm going to touch your wrist gently, and I want you to pretend that I'm tying it down. You can move at any time, for any reason, so you've still got complete control of yourself. Just see if you can pretend that you can't move your arm."

The shepherd touched Stripes' wrist gently with one extended finger, and the 'coon let himself imagine that in invisible leather strap held him to the spot. Taylor walked around the bed, then touched Stripes' left wrist, and then moved to the foot of the bed and touched his ankles gently. His lover looked up into his eyes and smiled slowly.

"No green," he said. "Just a pretend game, that's all. Now... let's see if you can stay that way through my whole... treatment."

Having been promised a gift of (he might say) oral satisfaction, Stripes was slightly confused to find that Taylor began his ministrations by rubbing and massaging his chest and belly. The 'coon had always loved how the shepherd's touch could both relax and stimulate him; those were very talented paws. He found that he wanted to return the touch, and then remembered that he was supposed to be restrained, that he couldn't touch back even though he might want to. He let his mind settle itself back into relaxing, enjoying the sweetly moving paws, feeling his breathing deepen.

"You know," the shepherd mused softly, "if you really were tied down, you'd be helpless if I started to tickle you." He stopped his paws where they were, on Stripes' chest, and looked into the 'coon's eyes again. "I promised you: I won't do anything without telling you first." He smiled. "I've tickled you before, unintentionally, and you certainly seemed to laugh a lot! Not today." He reached up to touch Stripes' cheek tenderly. "This is all about you. I'm going to give everything to you today. Ready?"

"Born ready," the 'coon grinned.

Taylor looked down. "It would certainly seem so!"

Chuckling, the shepherd kissed and licked his way down Stripes' body, slowly, slowly enough to make the 'coon begin to squirm a little. The sensations were wonderful, and he wanted... oh, come ON, Taylor! His lover's muzzle kept nuzzling the fur of his upper thighs, around to his hips, the edges of his stomach, just about anywhere except his almost painfully throbbing cock. Stripes made himself lie still, wanting more than anything to grab Taylor's head and guide his talented tongue to exactly the spot he was craving to have serviced. He looked up at the ceiling and tried not to think too much about how completely frustrated he was feeling.

"Having a problem?" Taylor's grin could be heard quite clearly.

"Oh, not at all," Stripes said. "Just sort of wishing that I could scratch my muzzle; got an itch."

"So sorry, here, let me take care of that."

DAMMIT!!!

Taylor moved up the 'coon's "restrained" body and gently scratched his muzzle for him. "Is that better?"

"Oh yes, thank you." Stripes could see the grin on Taylor's face and wanted to release himself from his imaginary bonds and smack him (gently). He redoubled his determination to stay where he was and see this through. He smiled with a touch of petulance. "Much better now. You can go back to what you were doing."

The shepherd blinked. "Was I doing something?"

"Do you want to see green eyes again?"

Taylor kissed his lover's muzzle gently. "Never, love. I'm pretty well done teasing."

True to his word, Taylor moved back down between Stripes' legs and began licking the 'coons heavy balls, already damp with pre-cum. "Mmm," the shepherd grunted heavily, "I never tire of the scent of you."

"So glad you approve," Stripes panted. He made himself stay "chained" to the bed as Taylor lashed his tongue against the turgid, swollen cock, itself dancing from deep contractions in the raccoon's groin. He gripped the comforter and blanket of the bed with his forepaws, making himself leave them where they were, fighting the urge to break free of non-existent leather straps. The feeling was more intense than he expected, more surprising in its effects. Some part of his mind was trying to tell him that he was helpless, but another part saw differently - that Taylor was in control, but that he wanted him to be, wanted him to show this new feeling to him. He wanted Taylor. He wanted Taylor to take him. He wanted to give himself to Taylor like a present, tied up with a beautiful and perfect bow.

Tied up.

The thought tried to take him over again. He forced it away, feeling the firm tenderness, the moist heat of Taylor's muzzle wrapped around his cock. Minutes felt like blissful hours, stretching into a virtual infinity of sensation, of excitation, of sheer unmatched pleasure. He couldn't help the whimpers that escaped him, the trembling in his "restrained" arms and legs, the breath that grew faster, more excited. He raised his head enough to look past the quickly rising and falling chest, down the length of his slim, hard body, saw Taylor looking at him directly even as he hilted the stiff cock into his muzzle. The look on the shepherd's face wasn't that of a conqueror but of a devoted lover, an impassioned giver of a magnificent gift. Stripes' brows knotted slightly, gazing upon Taylor in a confusion of emotions, the strongest of which was love, of desire, of worship, of the slowly, almost painfully ecstatic building of a climax that he knew would shatter him...

He was only dimly aware that he was shouting, crying out to the gods as his body buckled and writhed with his release. He felt Taylor's forepaw squeezing at the base of his erupting cock, the shepherd's muzzle keeping only the tip inside, catching rope after thick rope of steaming seed. Stripes felt the strain of keeping his arms and legs where they were, sensing the intensity that must be part and parcel of actually being restrained. His forepaws gripped the bedclothing, his claws nearly tearing the sheet; his legs tensed as if being shot through with electricity, his toes and hind claws digging into the air as if trying to escape.

Finally, the sensations eased off, tremulous echoes coursing through his body even as Taylor pulled off of his softening member with a loud slurp. Panting, muscles still shaking gently with his release, Stripes felt more than saw the shepherd climb up onto the bed, kneeling across his hips and leaning down to his muzzle. Taylor placed his forepaws to either side of the 'coon's head, and kissed him passionately. As he opened his muzzle to his lover's, Stripes eyes popped open as he felt and tasted the warm flood of cum from Taylor's maw. The shepherd held the 'coon close, and in only seconds, Stripes felt the overwhelming sexiness of tasting his own seed, still warm from his lover's tongue. The two moved and melded their muzzles together for long moments, tasting, sharing, loving each other.

When Taylor pulled slowly away, Stripes saw the grin on his muzzle. "That's called a snowball. And it was to fulfill my promise: I told you that I'd give everything to you."

Stripes laughed, still light-headed from his climax, and nuzzled Taylor with his nose. "Say," he said, "don't you think you'd better let me out of these shackles?"

"I'd better," the shepherd laughed. "Get your arms and legs moving, or you might discover some very sore muscles by morning!"

Stripes shifted his legs, moved his arms to wrap around Taylor and pull him down to him. "I think they're already sore." He chuckled a little. "Worth it."

"Think you'd like to try it again sometime?"

"Could be." The 'coon's eyes softened. "Only with you."

A sweet hint of a smile touched Taylor's muzzle. "That's a very special honor, Stripes. I promise to be worthy of it."

"You already are. Remember?" Stripes smiled, his deep sky-blue eyes as calm as winter ponds. "You stole my heart. But you gave it back."