Laced with Lust

(a commission for FriskeCrisp)

"I feel like a stupid penguin." Chrisp said, kicking his black 'flipper' shoes off of his paws with some difficulty and onto the shop floor. 

"Don't be racist." His mother replied, dutifully picking the shoes back up. "Your uncle Holt is getting married, and that means looking smart. Besides, you're back at school in a few days and you don't want to be the only one there not wearing fancy footwear, do you?" She asked, showing off her patented emerald puppydog look. 

Crisp rolled his eyes. That look never worked for him, and the idea of being the only one with different footwear at some stupid formal get-together didn't bother him in the slightest. He'd always been good with embarrassment; as in, he never really felt it. Even at school, he had always felt confident, but never embarrassed... What he was feeling, however, was a pair of oversized yet somehow cramping dress shoes being subtly nudged against his maw. 

"Alright, fine!" He huffed, snatching the 'sensible shoes' from his mother. For this he got a soft pat on the head. He heard a nearby salesman snigger, and shot him a Look. 

With the shoes finally fastened painfully tight across his delicate paws, the two wolves walked over to the glass counter of the shoe shop. Crisp idly looked around. There weren't any other customers in at this time; he reasoned that this was probably because they sold crappy, way-too-posh footwear. His attention was caught when his mother spoke up in surprise.

"Really? But if they're not for sale, why would they be on the racks?" 

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but I can't sell those to you." Replied the otter behind the counter, his face clearly confused and slightly concerned. "I mean, maybe another customer brought them in." 

"Nonsense!" She exclaimed, pointing down at the offending feet. "Look at them, they're brand new! Well, if you won't sell them to us, what do you suggest?" 

"W-well... I suppose..." 

'Carl', as his nametag helpfully pointed out, stroked his chin. He eyed up the two wolves, and while one clearly wasn't happy about the arrangement, the other seemed far more trouble than his job was worth. Finally, he seemed to come to a conclusion. 

"I... suppose you could just... take them?" He offered, holding up both of his webbed paws.

"Well... er..." Crisp wasn't accustomed to seeing his mother taken aback, and it was truly a sight to behold. Even if it was ultimately brief; she cleared her throat softly, treated the working otter to a bright, toothy smile, and began toward the door. 

"Thank you for your service!" Crisp heard. It was weird, though; he could have sworn  a soft chuckle had followed... but who could blame them. The shoes were ridiculous.

"This is ridiculous." He said out loud as he walked uncomfortably hand-in-hand with his mother down the street. "These shoes feel like they're sucking the life out through my paws." 

"They're flattering, dear. They'll break in, don't you worry. Just keep them on!" His mother chimed in, totally content in her victory. His old sneakers, a pair he'd loved for two long, faithful years had been thrown away when he wasn't looking. That was cunning of her, he thought to himself as his new squeaky shoes rounded a corner. She knew he'd never let them go of his own free will. They weren't perfect, sure, and a couple of the seams were coming loose, but that's what made them cool! 

Crisp looked over the landscape of his town, if you could even call it that. He had spent a lot of time in those old shoes, wandering the streets; to the point where he could tell where he was by the feel of them under his toes. Cracked brick with a semi-square repair block? That was south of the town, near the industrial complex. Light grains of sand with tufts of the occasional overgrowing turf? That'd be nearer the beach. 

As he glanced around at the sun-bleached sands off in the distance, he thought through all of the amazing memories he had in that area. The benches he'd walked over, the railings he'd jumped, the fences he'd climbed... all of those happy images slowly melted away as the soft squeaking of his new paw prisons filled his ears. 

This was going to be a looong day. 

Finally back home, the young wolf jumped onto the stairs and immediately began to untie the bindings of the shoes... at least, until his mothers paws pinned his arms back. 

"Ah ah ah! Not so fast, young man." She said, grinning down at him with planned precision. The boy began to complain, but she cut him off.  

"Now listen, Crisp, these shoes will be painful, and yes, they will emit that oddly irritating noise, but if you keep them on until your first day of school..." Finally letting him up, the older wolf crossed her arms across her chest and tilted her head to one side. 

"I'll let you hang out with Ron outside of school again." 

"R-ronni? Y'mean it?" Crisp asked, genuinely excited. He had been banned from seeing his best friend since that whole 'mad scientist' thing at the school. He didn't even know the juicy details; the adults were being super stingy. The prospect of seeing him again brought light back into this otherwise cruel and unforgiving day. 

"That's three days, Crisp!" His mother reminded him, essentially introducing a lead brick into his silver lining. His smile faded, but did not vanish; he knew, deep down, he could accomplish this. For his friend... and for Science. 

He looked his mother in the eye and stood up, his chest puffing out slightly. With one confident, deliberate breath, he gave his answer. 

"You have yourself a deal. I can do this."

3 Hours Later

"I CAN'T DO THIS!" Crisp yelled, clawing at the socks just above his shoes. "I swear they're eating my socks! My paws are gonna be BALD!" 

"Oh come on, Crisp." His mother muttered as she scrubbed the work surface she'd used to prepare dinner. "You've barely gone a day, give them time to break in!" 

"They'll break me before they break in." Chrisp replied, stamping his feet a few times. That only seemed to pull the socks in lower, however, and now one of them had completely disappeared into the neat folds of stiff leather. 

"Come on, dinner's almost ready. Afterward you can play in your room for a bit before bed." She said, Crisp digging in his claws under the shoe line to try and retrieve his stolen sock. 

"Absolutely ridiculous..." he muttered, giving up on the sock-hunt. With a grunt, he lifted himself up to the wooden dining room table. The shoes squeaked as he did so, making him flinch slightly in annoyance. At first it wasn't so bad; he kind of expected it from new shoes, but now it felt as though they were doing it on purpose. Even when he barely moved his tightly retained toes, they let out a low, oily sound. Annoyed at himself for being annoyed at the shoes, he huffed and crossed his legs. 

The shoes squeaked in response. 

"Mom, I can't--" He started, only to be cut off by a steaming plate being set in front of him. 

"Eat up." His mother said, sitting on the opposite side. Both of them had a rather large steak, and as he glanced up at his mother's plate he caught her ripping and tearing at the steak with the fork as if it were an extension of her body. 

Hesitantly, he picked his own instrument of eating up. He never liked how you're 'meant' to hold forks, so he often just stabbed meaninglessly at the food. This time, however, he held it as she did - with two fingers pressing down and with the knife in the other paw. Again looking up to his mother as a kind of how-to guide, he pierced the coarse skin of the tender steak and laid the knife blade down against it, ready to cut. 

"...Woops." He muttered, watching the steak skid across the table. His mother looked up with a meaty grin and nudged the steak back onto his plate without a word. 

[Oh, how embarrassing! She saw you mess up your meal... You can't even eat like a grown-up!]

Crisp blinked. His cheeks were beginning to flush, but a swift shake of his head settled them down again. That was weird, though; it was as if he'd thought the words, only he never remembered doing so. Yet, still they were there, lingering like a blazing sun on the inside of his eyelids. 

He poked the steak with his fork again, only this time his paw was trembling. Something was stopping him from trying to cut it again. It was like a burning feeling from the inside of his belly rising up his spine and making his fur tingle... 

A quick glance down showed him that his spine wasn't the only thing tingling. Now his cheeks were definitely blushing bright red, and he shoved the steak into his maw whole and bit a large piece off. 

[Aww, look, the puppy has a hard-on at the kitchen table! It's a shame your mom's here... she might see! How embarrassing for you!] 

I don't get embarrassed, Crisp tried to remind himself. Still, it was true that his new-found hard-on was indeed beginning to press against the inside of his jeans. Any longer and it'll start showing up in a more noticeable way... 

"M-mom? Can I finish this in my room?" He said after forcing a chunk of barely chewed meat down his throat. She looked up at him, down at his barely eaten food, and shook her head before continuing her own devouring of cooked flesh. 

Once again, Crisp sighed. He rearranged his trousers in a way as inconspicuous as possible, and stabbed the meat once more. Again, it flew off of his plate and onto the floor like a penguin attempting flight. Once again the voice in the back of his mind came back. 

[Oh no! You're really in trouble now. You'll have to pick it up, and everybody will see your hard-on...] 

His cock was rock hard now, the blush from his new-found embarrassment creeping it's way to his crotch at the speed of light. He felt it pulse, bulging his trousers out under the table and grinding against the cotton of his underwear. Over the table, his mother glanced at him, and pointed to the steak. 

"You dropped something, silly-butt. Pick it up; five second rule!" She said between meaty mouthfuls. 

Crips looked down at the offending steak, slumped haphazardly against the table's leg. The floor was clean, despite the mother's insistence of a 'five-second rule'. With some reluctance, and when his mother seemed most invested in finishing off her own steak, he scooted from his seat and picked up his meat. 

[She's going to see you! Oh, how unfortunate for yoouu...] 

Huffing with frustration, the young wolf hopped back up onto his seat and began to devour the food with his claws and teeth. He wanted to get this meal over as quickly as possible. Fortunately, his mother finished at about the same time he did - he'd eaten too quickly and as a result wasn't feeling well, but that came as a good distraction from his still pent-up erection. 

His mother began clearing away her plate, and Crisp slid off his seat to sneak away upstairs, only to be called back. 

"Crisp! Haven't you forgotten something...?" 

With his cheeks returning to normal and his bulge at least having shrunk to a hideable size, he quickly turned and grabbed his plate before stacking it with the rest of the washing. His frustration fueled his speed as he quickly ran out of the kitchen.

"Thank you." His mother said with a grin, watching him quickly bolt upstairs with his shoes squeaking every single step of the way. 

"You've got three hours!" She called after him.

[If only three hours were enough...] 

Immediately, the door was slammed shut and his loaded washing hamper was jammed in front of it. His hard-on was back, and seemingly with a vengeance. The front button of his jeans was seriously threatening to be dislodged from it's stitching.

"Fucking hell." Crisp softly whispered to his empty room through bated breaths. 

[Not quite yet it's not!] Said the intrusive voice at the back of his mind. Quickly turning around, he spotted... well, nothing. What did he expect to see? 

"Who... who said that?" He asked, to the room in general. 

There was no response; only the silence that was always there to greet him, punctuated occasionally by the clattering of pots as his mother downstairs washed the plates used for lunch. 

Crisp span around once more, but the feeling of pressure from his jeans almost made his legs buckle with pleasure. He swiftly unbuttoned them and tugged them down, revealing his bright red, tight and oddly wet undies. There was no mistaking the blatant bulge jutting out from his pubic region. 

"G-gaahh... I-it's never felt THIS good before..." The boy said to himself as he attempted to kick his jeans off. Looking down, he noticed he still had his shoes on, and groaned. They were hard enough to undo without this distracting heat bubbling up from below his belly. 

Getting his claws ready to dig in to the laces, Crisp sat down and tucked his feet closer - only to pause. 

"Wh... where are the laces?" 

They were gone. There was no mistaking that - where they normally joined the stiff leather together was simply fused in place. He did spot the very lowest part of the laces, and began following where it led with his paw. Across the side of the shoe, blending in easily with the dark leather, then across the heel, and up the ankle, and... 

For a second time, he paused. The lace had, without his knowing, travelled all the way up his leg. Checking his other leg, he found it to be the same for all four snaking ropes. They blended in so seamlessly with his fur that he hadn't even noticed before - it was as though they had camouflaged itself specifically. Following them further, he found them leading up his inner thigh...

That's as far as he got. All of a sudden, a feeling like a thousand tongues hungrily lapping enveloped his cock from base to very tip. Crisp was forced hard onto his back by the pure, overwhelming pleasure that wracked every inch of his quivering body. He moaned out, scratched ineffectually at the carpet, and was practically reduced to orgasm on the spot. Images of a crowd around him appeared in his mind like light mist, faces staring down at him and laughing as he writhed in pleasure.

 As swiftly as it had started, however, it stopped. The burning images that had raced through his mind slowly faded, and as the shivers running up and down his spine did the same, he found himself laying on his back in the middle of his room. 

"Wh... what... just happened?" He said aloud. Looking down at his still tenting undies, he found them a slightly... darker hue than before. He checked with his paw, and his suspicions were confirmed; they were soaked through with pre from his over-excited cock. 

Dipping his paw under the elastic, Crisp pulled down his sodden undies to where his jeans had caught on his shoes - and suddenly, a lot of questions were answered. His cock sprang somewhat free, and the cool air was a much-needed refreshment; however, the laces he had followed up his thigh were wrapped around his cock, from base to tip, and if he didn't know any better he could SWEAR they were... well, moving. 

[Do you hear that, pup?] 

The young wolf couldn't hear anything. His room was entirely silent, and the only thing filling that silence currently was his slightly hard breathing...

[The laughter... the staring, wanting crowd?] 

That's when he heard it; the sound was soft and subtle at first, like a gentle teetering on the edge of a breeze, but as he listened it became louder and louder until it was roaring in his ears. The laces began to writhe around his cock once more, the rounded plastic tip of one grinding heavily against his pre-leaking hole. 

As he spasmed and moaned out, he could make out figures around him. Boys that he knew - boys from school. His entire class was there, standing around him, pointing and laughing... that only made his body burn hotter and his erection yet more solid and throbbing. He wanted release, his entire body was arching back and begging for it, but that one lace wrapped around under his cock's head and with it's tip inserted solidly into his own, he found it impossible. 

He squirmed and jutted his hips out, his legs bound together by his jeans and underwear while his cock was expertly massaged by the cotton ropes meant to hold on the very shoes that were currently taunting him. 

[Everybody's around you, everybody can see you squirming around with your cock out... and you can't even feel the sweet release of orgasm!] 

The voice was right. Crisp couldn't control himself, let alone get the satisfaction his body was obviously yearning for. He was powerless, squirming, cringing, the subject of laughter to his entire class... and it felt strangely good. Normally if Crisp denied himself orgasm for a while, it built up and it felt great, but with the added stimulus of everybody watching and laughing at him...

He couldn't take it anymore. Between spasms of pleasure, he dove his paw down to his cock and began rubbing it - only to find his paw immediately wrapped up in a lacey bind! 

[Ah ah ah, not so fast, pup. You don't get to finish... not yet. First, you have to do something for me.]

At this point Crisp would have slain a god to be able to release all of this pent-up heat that was currently making his entire body shiver and shake. 

"A-anything!" He said out loud. He closed his eyes tightly, and felt a subtle change in the air. 

[Deal.]

Not that this registered, of course, because what he felt most of all and the thing that overrode all of his internal thoughts was the obscene amount of orgasmic pleasure pulsing through him. He felt the release, every last drop of his pent-up cum shooting out of his meaty, throbbing cock... 

...and into his red undies. 

Crisp opened his eyes as he cried out in pleasure. It was day time, he was in bed all snuggled up, and for some reason more surprisingly, he was totally alone. As he laid there panting and sweating through his sheets, he began to take in more of his surroundings. Yes, he was definitely in bed and... yes, he had just ruined his bedding. 

The young pup groaned and shook his head, lifting up his top half with his arms. He'd never had a dream THAT intense before, but at least now it was over. 

Tugging away his soaked and stained blanket, he gasped shock. 

His jeans were pulled down to his ankles, where they were caught on a pair of laced, neat, bright red sneakers. 

"What the fresh hell is this." Crisp said, no more a question than a first-thing-on-the-morning statement. 

With some difficulty, he pulled one leg up to read the label printed directly on the side. Around a large blue star read the words "Convex All Star". Vaguely aware through his tired mind that Convex were a rather expensive, incredibly cool brand, he shook his head and read the label again. 

Yup, they were definitely the famous brand... and now that he thought about it, Crisp began putting a few things together. The dream where he was molested by the laces, his jeans still around his ankles, the strange burning feeling slowly creeping up his cheeks... 

Quickly hopping out of bed and tugging his undies and jeans up, the young wolf looked around in a blaze of panic. If somebody had seen him with his underpants pulled down, he didn't know what he'd do. 

Crisp shook his head, trying to clear away the pink mist creeping up in his mind.

"No," he said out loud. "I know what I'd do, I'd not care at all. I don't get embarrassed." 

As he began to fasten his jeans' buttons, he found his body strongly disagreeing with his statement. The idea was in his mind to be caught with his undies around his ankles hadn't left his mind. In fact, it'd grown; what if he were naked in front of more than one person? Outside in public when he was de-pantsed?

His throbbing bulge told him how he'd react. A few moments more of daydreaming later, he dug his paw into his pants and rearranged his hard-on so as to not show up so easily. 

"God damn, what's wrong with me?" He thought to himself as he pushed through his bedroom's door.  

Breakfast was surprisingly awkward. Before, he'd been able to slip out of bed and onto his chair before he had even gotten dressed, but now even with his jeans tightly fastened around his waist and a shirt and jacket on, he still felt under-dressed. Something made him feel strangely... exposed. 

"Waffles again?" He whined softly, trying to get his mind away from his raging erection, which was threatening to bust a seam below the table. 

"Waffles again. When you're earning, you can choose what we eat." His mother said, clearly not having had the best night's sleep. Crisp slumped and began eating his mildly disappointing meal. The exchange had not hindered his hard-on at all, and he was beginning to wonder just how long his torment would last...

As it turns out, breakfast was just the start of it. Throughout the next few days, Crisp was plagued by images in his mind and voices in his ear. That, accompanied by random and unexpectedly persistent boners made it almost impossible to anything. When he went outside to go to the beach, every time he passed a stranger on the street he had to duck into an alleyway to re-arrange his cock. 

A few times, he was sure they'd said something like "I can see you." or "Poor puppy", but when he turned around, they'd simply walked away as if nothing had happened. By the end of the weekend, Crisp was sure he was simply going insane. 

Finally giving himself a rest from the relentless horniness that the outside world seemed to offer, he tumbled into his bedroom and slammed the door behind him. He even slouched against it, slowly lowering himself to the floor and letting out a deep, deep sigh of relief. 

As he sat there on the carpet of his spinning room, Crisp let his mind wander at last. The familiar images of taunting faces returned to him, as well as the burning desire in his body. This time, though, he felt a smile creep across his crimson cheeks. 

Just as he began to stroke one paw delicately over his neglected, bulging jeans, there was a knock on the other side of the door. 

Crisp had to stop himself yelping out in surprise. 

"Crispieee, you know what tomorrow is?" His mother asked, an audible grin on her face. 

He thought for a moment, scratching the back of his bristled ears. "Uh... tuesday, I guess?" 

"That's right, and that means it's school in the morning! I noticed you hadn't taken your shoes off, so I wanted to let you know that you can go play with your friend Ronni for a few hours afterward before coming home. Just don't go too crazy, okay?" 

Crisp wasn't on the other side of the door any more. 
He was on his bed, his legs stretched out straight, staring directly at his bright red shoes. How could he have forgotten?! She hadn't noticed his shoes had changed? Or were the shoes always like this? Suddenly it dawned on the puppy that he had never actually taken the shoes off... in fact, he never actually remembered anything to DO with these shoes. They'd just taken him around, like they had a life of their own.

He leant down to untie them, and suddenly found his arms reaching toward laces that were, in turn, reaching toward him. 

"...Oh, fuck." 

"You know, I'm kind of glad you chose those stylish shoes, now that I think about it." His mother continued. "Those black ones at the store would never have suited the wedding. I hear it's going to be a much bigger event, with family and friends from all over! ...Crisp?" 

Cautiously, she pushed open the door, and suddenly gasped at the sight she saw before her. 

"uh..." 

Crisp tried to come up with some kind of explanation as to why he was currently hog-tied on his belly with his jeans pulled down to his bound knees. His mother stared at him in disbelief, and he said the first thing that came to mind. 

"...I uh... had… trouble tying my laces?" 

[To be continued...]