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For the most part, the week went on as normal. Each day, we met for lunch, and a quick diaper change, and Sherman got increasingly used to the . . . additional secret around his waist. Regular social events: games night, drinking with friends, proceeded with less worry than our brunch at Evelyns, although he always kept close to me.

Changes, and any fun thereabouts, became another of our little rituals, and he knew what to do without prompting or asking: another intimate moment in our day. As his second week of chastity wore on, I could see his balls becoming firmer, his cock drooling more and more desperate pre from his cage, with each change.

It was the final night of his punishment, and with work in the morning, we were showering before bed. Although I always do my best to run soapy and clean water through his cage, my rabbit's poor, trapped cock was long overdue a more thorough cleaning.

"Alright, my Pet, I'm going to have to clean under your cage. You know what that means."

He whimpered, drawing his paws to the small of his back, clasping hands tightly around wrists. I stood behind him, arms enveloping him. I drew the chain from around my neck, and reached down to unlock his cage.

Almost immediately his cock sprang to attention, seven inches of pink, throbbing flesh broke free at last. Carefully, gently, I set his cage aside, and drew the ring that fastened it to his sac away, moving one lime-sized orb through at a time.

My Pet shuddered, and closed his eyes as the water trickled through his fur and onto his freed genitals, the shower spraying warm streams onto his length.

I soaped up one paw, and began to stroke his cock, just enough to coat it in soap, enough to scrub it free of any grime built up in the cage.

"Ooooohhh. . . . please . . ." he moaned. I could feel his rapid heartbeat pulsing through his flesh, his paws straining to release each other, and take hold of himself, draw himself just that last inch to release. He was so close already.

But my Pet is a good Pet, a well-trained Pet, an obedient Pet. Teasing as I may have been, and though he shook and shuddered, he did not break his pose. My broad, strong paw cupped his balls, checking his skin for chafing, making sure it was clean and soapy.

"They're so wonderfully full, so pent-up with your need for Master," I praised him softly, my paw grinding them gently against each other.

He could only whine in response.

Slowly, teasingly, my paw returned to his shaft, gliding up and down his length in a gentle rhythm, feeling his beating heart and twitching muscles, guiding him just to the edge, but no further. His self-restraint was impressive. His muscles twitched, his limbs writhed, his legs nearly faltered, and his voice let out pleading whines, but he did nothing to stop or force his Master. At last, I let go, and kissed him softly between the ears.

I rinsed him thoroughly with the detachable shower head (those things are wonderful), and then turned off the water.

"Mhmhmhmhmh" he whimpered. He knew the agonizing teasing was over. Leaving him damp like this, he soon grew cold. With deep breaths, he tried his best to relax, as I slickened the inside of his cage with soap. Some people will tell you to use lube to ease it on, but you don't want most lube against your skin long-term.

Slowly, silently, patiently, I waited for him to soften. When at last he had shrunk enough, I eased the steel band back onto him, and slid his tube over his flaccid length, locking it tight. I restored the key around my neck, and turned the water back on, so we could rinse out his soapy cage.

~~~~~~~~~~

We took an hour or so, after the shower, to dry off in front of the television. As we made our way to bed at last, Sherman froze in the doorway. I knew what that look on his face said. He was wetting. Then, as if nothing had happened, he resumed his course, snuggling up against me on the sheets.

"It's such a shame I don't get to see those cute bunny balls, swelling with their need for Master," I teased, gently shifting the front of his diaper up and down under one broad paw. He was a little damp, but nothing that couldn't wait until morning.

At the remark, Sherman's face fell. He tried to hide it, but I could see the corners of his mouth falling, his gaze sinking, his ears drooping. Without meaning to, I'd struck a nerve.

"Do you want to talk about it?" My tone dropped from salacious to supportive, my paw slid to one side of his waist: reassuring, not teasing.

"I'm sorry Master, it's just . . . I failed you, in the airport, and in the hotel room, and I've been thinking about what you said about trusting you, and . . ."

I could see the tears welling up in his eyes, and I drew him to my chest, placing both paws on his back, speaking in low tones: "You made a mistake, my Pet, and you've accepted your punishment. I forgive you. You're learning your lesson, and you've been a very good bunny." I pulled away from him just enough to plant a kiss above his nose.

"Thank you, Master, and I'm sorry . . . I just keep going over it in my head."

"Would it help to go over it with me?"

He drew a deep breath, pulling up into a sitting position on the bed.

"After a week in the cage, I can feel . . . pressure . . . all the time. It makes every moment just a little more anticipatory, like I'm eager for whatever it is that's happening next."

I sat up next to him.

"It also makes me long for . . ." he brought his cheek to my shoulder, nuzzling into my fur, drawing my scent deeply into his pink nose. I wrapped my arm around his shoulders, holding him against me.

"It makes every touch feel like much more, especially when it's yours."

He'd described this for me before. We spent a long time experimenting with chastity, getting to this point. I could never force him to do something like this, all the time, if it wasn't something he wanted.

"So just my clothing, just walking around in public, uncaged, was so . . . arousing, and counting down the seconds until I had to put the cage back on . . . my heart was pounding, my paws were sweaty, and . . ."

"You were too stiff to get it on." I remembered from the phone call. My other paw moved to rest on the front of his padding.

"Master, it was throbbing. I tried everything, thinking about calming or painful things, cooling it, pinching myself, but the plane was going to take off soon, and just the anticipation, knowing there was a deadline, knowing anyone in another bathroom stall might hear me or someone might come looking for me, it got blood flowing. I slicked-up the cage and tried to force it on, pushed until it hurt, but I couldn't do it. I'm sorry, Master."

"I know I should have put it on after landing," he continued, "but even on the plane, it was starting to feel . . . good, and I thought I could control it, I thought it would be like those times when you let me out just to tease, make me feel so excited, so needy, so good, but . . . slower. Even the thought of being so aroused by just . . . walking around, in public, without anyone knowing, it was exhilarating."

The fingers of his right paw were digging into the deep fur of my belly, stroking at my skin teasingly. I know the way my Pet thinks, the kick he gets out of wearing his collar everywhere, even if the world can't see, knowing what it means. I waited patiently for him to continue.

"And it wasn't a problem the first night, but the second . . ." he lowered himself out from under my arm, lying down on the sheets, staring up at the ceiling while I watched him. "The second night I wasn't tired enough to just conk out, so I was just lying down, trying to relax, and well I already said how anxious I get by the second week, so it was tough, and my, my cock was throbbing against the sheets. I'm not used to feeling it touched like that, not unless you're touching it."

He looked up at me, his eyes longing for understanding. I returned his gaze with a warm smile, keeping my smirk inside as I imagined his seven inches of leaking, throbbing bunny cock caressed by soft sheets, begging for the touch of his Master. The same cock no doubt thickening with the memory in its steel confines.

"So I rolled over," he turned onto his belly, and as I was reaching to adjust the pillows," one arm arced up to shift the pillows at the head of the bed, lithe muscles stretching under fine, plush white fur, "I felt myself stroke against the mattress." His hips bucked against the sheets, pressing his confined cock into his damp padding, squishing his waist forward, plastic underwear rubbing against the bed.

"It sent hot need through my body, like it flooded from me through every muscle, every inch of skin, drowning any other thought in my head until I could feel the pressure, the same pressure that builds up as I wait in chastity, in my hips and fingers, my belly and behind my eyes, like I was going to burst."

I knew what he could be like: a rabbit in heat, when his body, beyond his control, moved by lust, was so marvelously submissive to my pleasure, but in this case he was without me.

"I couldn't stop." His back began to undulate slowly, his thighs drawing apart and squeezing together, his fingers grabbing at the sheets. "It began as slow waves, just moving my whole body against the bed, but it got faster and faster, in spasms, waves of desperate lust." His crinkling rump bounced up and down as he smushed his caged cock into the front of his diaper, damp padding and plastic cover rocking with increasing speed against the bedsprings.

"Every thrust went . . . mmmmhhhh . . . a little further, a little faster, I could feel pre drooling against the sheets, making them sticker, clinging to me, but I didn't care." No doubt he was drooling pre now into his diaper, his arousal building with the memory, his muscles shaking as he fought to control his thrusts, more real than acted now, driving himself towards a remembered orgasm he could not now reach.

I couldn't help myself. My cute bunny's padded rump writhed under my watchful gaze, his stubby puffball tail arched high, an invitation, conscious or otherwise, brought on by his rising and remembered lust. His pelt twitched as his muscles pulled his form into ever more rapid thrusts. I could smell his sweat, hear the rustling and crinkling, the sliding of his fine fur against the sheets. My own sheath was swelling, my tip just poking out, urged on by my Pet's display.

"Mmmhhh . . . ooohhh . . ." he called out, trying to bring himself under control, "a voice in the back of my head, the part of me that wanted to be a good Pet, cried out for me to stop, but I didn't listen . . . mmmmhhh" he whined, pressing his hips hard against the bed, "it was drowned in the thundering chorus of my own pleasure, instead of my Master's."

"It's ok, Pet," I ran the fingertips of one paw down his writhing spine, feeling the tension coiled up within him, "you're safe here, safe in your cage, and I'm watching over you." Eight inches of black bear cock stood proudly from my sheath, eager to join my Pet in his remembered pleasure, but I wanted to let him finish his confession, first.

"So when I felt it, drawing inevitably closer, without the chastity cage, without you," his pace redoubled, his tail raising high before clamping down with each deep roll of his hips, pressing his padding into the bedsprings, my bunny bouncing so fast and hard he gripped the sheets to hold himself down. "Oh, oh!," he cried out, as I imagined his bright pink cock, fully engorged and flaming with need, sliding through pre-slickened silken sheets with each thrust, the soft, fluffy, uncovered buns of his rump presented under his flagging tail with each roll of his hips, and no Master to enjoy them.

"It was like a freight train headed for a broken bridge. No matter how much I wanted to, I just couldn't stop, I couldn't stop . . ." his body was shaking now, his pace erratic. As much as I'd enjoyed watching my Pet act out his memory, as much as his body writhing before me was pleasing, I began to share his worry. I knew he was feeling it again: he couldn't stop. This time, however, the cage would permit no orgasm to bring his helpless state to an end. This time, he had his Master.

Wrapping both arms around him, I picked him up, bringing his head over my shoulder and one broad paw under his padded rump. He continued convulsing, pressing his diaper against my engorged shaft. I gasped at the unexpectedly pleasant sensation of my Pet making love to my length, his thighs clenching around my waist, his arms wrapping around my neck.

He spoke in pants: "It squeezed, it forced its way out, burning through every muscle, blasting the sheets, soaking my fur" his whole body clamped down on me, pressing into my belly, my neck, my shaft . . . "and first if felt so good, relief taking my body as the tension and frustration drained away, but then, when I realized, it was like a bucket of cold water, soaking my fur, and the smell . . ."

Slowly, patiently, I waited for him to regain a grip on himself, to get a grip on the new and powerful height of lust he'd reached, his arousal unsated, building as it always does while he's chaste. It was like the moments after sex, when he's rejoiced in my pleasure, but reached no climax himself, and needs time to adjust.

When at last he could hold himself still, clutching me tightly, he continued in a low, defeated voice: "When you reward me, when you bring me to orgasm, after a while of . . . waiting, it feels amazing. It's an incredible gift you can only give me when I've been so devoted, and that makes it all the more special. This didn't feel anything like that. It felt selfish and even with the wave of relief, it felt . . . awful. I'd been a bad bunny, a bad Pet, and I knew it."

I waited for him to collect himself. He was taking deep breaths. When he was calm again, I asked: "What did you do next?"

He paused before explaining: "Sometimes, when you've rewarded me with an orgasm, you've let me lap up the . . . results." I couldn't help but chuckle at the memories of my bunny happily licking his food dish clean, after filling it with weeks of pent-up seed so pleasurably drained. "It always tasted so good, a treat for a good Pet, a well-behaved Pet, tangy and musky. I thought maybe, for some reason, that would be an appropriate way to begin cleaning up after my mistake, to bring it back inside me, or . . . I don't know . . ."

"It's ok," I stroked his back, "you did what you did, and I've forgiven you for it. You don't have to explain anything you don't want to."

"It didn't taste good. It didn't smell good. It wasn't a treat for a good rabbit. It was more like rubbing my own nose in it. Every lick made me want to wretch, but I told myself I deserved it. I coated my mouth in it. I pressed my nose in it. It smelled, it tasted like . . . like failure."

He took two heavy breaths.

"When I'd gotten as much off the sheets, and myself, as I could that way, I found myself stuck for what to do. I knew I had to tell you, but it took me at least twenty minutes to work up the nerve to call you. You know the rest from there."

I nodded.

Slowly I laid Sherman down onto the bed, facing upwards, towards me. I ran my chocolate paws over his snowy fur, smoothing his shoulders, his arms, his face, his chest, his belly. In the thumb and forefinger of each paw I grabbed the base of a long rabbit ear, and began to slide slowly up their length, making him quiver and close his eyes at the sensation.

"I'm sorry you felt so helpless. I know you didn't want to do it, and I'm sorry you lost control." My fingers reached the tips of his ears and let go.

"I'm sorry too, Master, and I want to finish my punishment." He opened his eyes, looking relieved to have gotten the confession out.

"I know my Pet doesn't really want to hump," my paws shifted to the sides of his chest, drawing down his ribs, thumbs brushing through his fur, over his nipples, "he wants to be humped."

"Mmmhhh . . ." he whined, wriggling a little in my grasp. The smoldering arousal within him, not yet fully cooled, began to burn again. "I do, Master. I wish I hadn't been alone, I wish you'd been there, to -"

I interrupted him with a gentle tug of my paws, urging him to roll over. He more than complied, spreading his arms and legs wide on the bed, lifting his rump and his tail, presenting his thickly padded rear, whimpering in need.

With one paw, I took hold of his shoulder, just to keep him steady, to let him know I approved of his position. With the other, I undid the lock at the small of his back, and the diaper tape above his eagerly flagging tail, lowering his plastic underwear and the padding beneath just enough to expose the bright pink puffy pucker beneath.

"Such an eager Pet." I reached over to the bed-side table, extracting a bottle of lube from the drawer, and began to drizzle it on his entrance, earning a faint gasp. Slowly I began to wriggle a finger into him, feeling, stretching, caressing his clenching and relaxing walls. I slipped a second finger into him, spreading him, ensuring he was ready.

"Nnnhh," he bucked against me, hilting himself on my paw. He was more than ready. I was teasing, rather than preparing him now. Slowly I drew my fingers from his hot, silken passage, and began to work another drizzle of lube along my eight inches of black bear cock, already throbbing in sympathy with my Pet's need.

I returned the bottle to the bedside table, placed one paw on my Pet's shoulder, and returned the other to my shaft as I knelt between his spread legs.

"Are you ready, my Pet?"

"Ooooh, yes, Master!" he whined, squirming under me.

I pressed the tip of my length, beads of pre already forming, to his slick pucker, and he froze, waiting for me to begin. Sliding one paw up his back, I moved both of my paws up his arms, spreading myself over him, pressing my chest to his back, supporting most of my weight by holding his forearms to the mattress.

"Show me again what it was like in the hotel, Pet."

"Well," he began, voice shaking, unsure of my intentions, "when I reached forward . . ." he reached, and I allowed my paw to move with his, pulling me up along his back, pushing my tip just inside him. "Oooo," he called out, waiting to see what I would do next. When I remained still, he continued: "I felt myself slide up the bed, and . . ." he slid his hips upwards, his body sliding between my fur and the sheets, pulling himself until my drooling tip was just kissing him, again. "Mmh," he let out, unsure what to expect next. "Then I couldn't help it anymore, my hips just began rolling . . ."

Slowly, uncertainly, he began to rock his hips, pressing his padding into the bed before raising his rump, tail flagged, pressed to my belly, and impaling himself on my cock, eliciting a moan or grunt each time. His diaper rustled between us, crumpled and squished with each thrust, as he worked my girth deeper and deeper inside himself. His fine fur undulated against mine, his body squirmed beneath me, his breath came more quickly. By the time his thrusts took half my length, I was letting out low, appreciative growls, my own hips quivering with the desire to mount, to rut, to bury myself in my bunny.

This time, his voice was reversed: his moans and gasps came not when he pressed himself against the bed, but when he pressed himself against his Master. By the time he had fully worked me under his tail, the padding below his entrance pressed to my low-hanging, furry balls, he positively squeaked with delight. He froze again, waiting, adjusting to my girth inside him, my hips pressed to his, relaxing and tightening in spasms as we felt the heat pouring through each others' fur with each rapid heartbeat.

"It does feel better, Master, with you here."

"I wouldn't want to be anywhere else." I nuzzled his neck, bringing my muzzle over one shoulder. "Shall I take it from here?"

His rump gave a cute little wiggle, working his pelt into mine, his diaper against my sac, our little signal to begin.

With a gentle rock of my hips, I pulled barely an inch from his tight rabbit-hole, before forcing my hips back into him. I pressed him down into the mattress, rolling his hips, pressing his caged cock, no doubt screaming with frustrated need within its cruel confines, into his damp padding, exactly as he had done.

He became a puppet beneath me as I moved his body in the same increasingly frantic thrusting as before, drawing myself just a bit further out of him with each roll of our bodies before slamming against him again with a wet slurping thud, plum-sized balls bouncing against his padding, his own plush hips rebounding against the bedsprings. I became his hot, writhing, thick, shaggy brown blanket, pressing deep into every inch of him. I loved the way he pressed into my chest and belly, the way his arms and legs wriggled beneath my own, the way his tail struggled, even pressed against me, to lift its invitation still higher, the way he gasped each time we pressed together, the way he rolled himself against me, the way his remembered transgression became his present service.

Each time I pressed him beneath me, I imagined his free cock burrowing amongst slick silk sheets, even as my own burrowed into his silken tail-hole. Each gasp or moan of delight was a mix of his own remembered guilty pleasure and his current joyous redemption. My low, appreciative growls resumed, and I found myself opening my jaws wide, wrapping them around his shoulder, just to hold him, just to steady him as we sped faster and faster.

At last we reached a rapid rhythm, my length withdrawing until his tight ring of muscle squeezed my tip, begging for its return, swiftly sated each time. I could taste his sweat, smell his musk mingled with my own, the crinkling, rustling, slurping, thudding, panting sounds of our love making filling the room, mixed with gasps, growls, and whimpering moans. I could feel his heart beating furiously through his fur and the clenching confines beneath his tail, his muscles working with mine until Master and Pet, bunny and bear became one. His desire to please me and my own rutting lust drove us onward, his own denied cock and swollen, frustrated balls pressed again and again into his padding and the bedsprings, fueling the desire he channeled so well towards my pleasure.

The pressure began to build in my thighs and my arms, a tension creeping over my body, tightened with each wave of electric joy my Pet pulsed through me as I pumped in and out of him, his body squirming and working with mine. I could feel the buzzing building behind my eyes, the desperate tightness in my balls as my sac contracted against my body. Surely my Pet could feel it too, our rhythm breaking down into erratic, frantic, driving thrusts. His own passage clamped and released, milking my pulsing, pumping length for the only release, the only ecstatic pleasure my Pet could feel: his Master's.

My growls became louder, more urgent, as my body convulsed, my arms, my thighs, my abs and chest pressing him down against me with each push, before pulling him from me. He shouted almost as if he were nearing an impossible orgasm himself:

"Oooh . . . mmmm . . . yes . . . Master . . ."

I could take it no longer. The roaring, burning pressure was forcing its way to my loins, boiling up from my balls and squeezing each of my muscles. With one final pull, I drew myself all the way out of my Pet, holding him against the bed as my tip once again barely kissed his pucker.

Knowing what was coming, my bunny, attentive as ever, clenched hard for my final thrust, as I forced myself into him, boring through his hot, eager passage, grinding into his prostate, pressing him into the bed as I rolled my head back in a roar.

"Aaahhhh!" my rabbit almost squealed as he felt the dam burst within me, as searing, thick, creamy bear seed forced its way through each inch of my length, past each clenching muscle beneath his tail, firing deep inside him, claiming him, filling him.

That first deep eruption into my Pet seemed to last an eternity, my paws holding him down, pulling him onto me, my back arched, my maw wide and roaring, need and arousal and lust and heat flowing from me, replaced with waves of warm ecstasy. As rope after rope followed, I could feel myself melting onto him, my vision blurred by the euphoric joy he had given me, tension and worry draining from every limb, every muscle, every follicle of fur as my Pet pleased me. He squirmed gently beneath his Master, his own hips still bucking, his rump still clenching and unclenching, milking my length as he struggled once again to adjust to his ever more aroused state.

"Thank you, my Pet. I'm very pleased," I whispered when my body finally calmed, my spasmodic spurts slowed to a mere trickle.

It took him a while to be able to form words, but he blushed as he looked up at me, over his shoulder, glad to have brought his Master joy, even as he struggled to regain control of his body. I waited patiently for him to calm as I held his wriggling form beneath mine.

"So much . . . better with you here," was all he could manage.

I kissed him, gently, between his ears, as he drifted into an exhausted, contented sleep.

I waited a long time, just enjoying the afterglow, softening within him, before I pulled myself out, and resealed his diaper, leaving him to dream of his Master while my seed seeped into the padding beneath his tail.

~~~~~~~~

By midday Friday I could tell Sherman was itching for his punishment to be over. He squirmed and whimpered more than usual during his lunchtime, and almost certainly final, change. When at last I got home from work, he was sitting on the floor, obediently, a smile on his face, waiting like a good Pet.

"I'm so glad you're home, Master." His stubby tail made an effort to thump against the carpet.

"I'm glad to be home." I closed the door behind me, and knelt to kiss him between the ears. "It's been a week, you know," I whispered, as if there was any chance he hadn't been counting down.

"I know Master, but I trust you, whatever you know is best for me."

My heart missed a beat. I almost choked. It was so sweet. A warm smile broke out across my muzzle, and I brought my broad paws to his cheeks, drawing him into a passionate kiss. He welcomed my broad tongue into his maw, suckling gently on it before I drew his own into mine, playing with each other's lips and teeth, drawing in each other's scent and breath. At last, I broke away.

"I love you," I breathed, panting after the kiss.

"I love you, too" he responded: obedient, but heartfelt.

"Wait here." I made my way to the bathroom, gathering our changing supplies before returning to him, in the very spot in the living room where his punishment began. I unrolled the mat, and he obediently spread himself upon it. Slowly I undid his plastic underwear and slightly damp diaper, rolling it up for disposal. Diligently I cleaned him up with wipes.

When at last I was done, and looked up into his face, he beamed at me, paws drawn close to his chest, almost begging in puppy-like contentment.

"It's done. You're free." I announced, with a little chuckle at his expression.

He rolled over quickly, leaping to his paws and knees, before crawling up against me, resting his head against one shoulder. I wrapped my arm around him, stroking the fine, plush fur of his back.

"So, what do you think of diapers?" I asked, hoping this week hadn't been too cruel, after all.

He paused for a moment, obviously enjoying my touch.

"I . . . understand what you wanted me to learn, and I like how they made me depend on you, and even how they granted a certain . . . freedom, security, like, you were always keeping me safe. I'm glad to be out of them, Master, but maybe, sometime, it wouldn't be so bad to try them again."

I bent my neck to kiss him again, savoring the feeling of his warm pelt against mine.