Reconciliation
Copyright 2008 Veritas. Contains explicit heterosexual content, and allusions to homosexual activity and mild non-con, involving teenage anthropomorphic characters. Those offended by any of the above need not read on. 

It was a busy road at a busy time of day, at least for a residential zone; it was no thoroughfare, but on such a nice spring afternoon on a Saturday, there were plenty of people walking along the sidewalks. 
So nobody really paid much attention to the lion youth padding back and forth in front of one nice house. He was in good shape, well-dressed, a handsome enough teen that nobody was likely to think him a troublemaker. The package he carried was thin and wrapped with white paper and a red ribbon, nothing to be concerned about. Just a boy working up the courage to give something to his sweetheart. 
Well, Mike Thorntree thought, they'd be half-right there, at least. This was not an easy thing to make himself do. The other bit was kind of out of his hands. 
On the other hand, he probably wouldn't make the best possible impression if he waited around long enough for the chocolates to melt. 
Sighing, he started up the path. One step at a time. Whatever the end result, this was something he had to do. If he didn't, he wouldn't ever deserve to call himself a man. 
He took a deep breath and rang the doorbell. 
A few seconds passed, but he made himself wait. It took a bit of time for there to be an evident response - thumping feet, moving downstairs by the quick and heavy tread. They leveled out, then stopped nearby. Finally the latch clicked, and the door drew back, revealing a dark skirt and white blouse over golden, black-spotted fur, and a suddenly-apprehensive green-eyed face. 
"Oh, hi, Mike!" the leopard said, and the lion almost winced at the forced-happy tone in her voice. "I wasn't expecting to see you today! I, uh, I'm sorry, but things are a little busy tonight, so I can't - " 
"Hold on, Angie," he pleaded, trying not to let a whine creep into his voice. "It's okay, I just...." 
And the words died in his throat. He'd rehearsed them, even... he'd figured she wouldn't be really keen on talking to him. But he couldn't get them out of his mouth. 
After a few false starts, he gave up, sighed, and passed the box over. The card held under the ribbon would relay the apology he couldn't say. She didn't refuse the box, at least; and though she seemed about to protest something, she trailed off as he turned and started away. 
He hadn't got halfway to the sidewalk when running feet behind him stopped him in his own tracks. "Hold on, Mike," the leopard panted. "There's nobody else home, and my homework can wait. Come on in, at least say what it is you need to say. I'm not going to laugh at you, or stomp on you for it, or any spiteful thing like that." 
He was reluctant - he didn't want to impose if she had stuff to do, not after the stupid things he'd already done - but she had her hand on his arm, and, feeling almost numb, he followed her guidance back to and through the front door, into the living room, onto the couch. For the moment, she sat on the easy chair opposite him, holding the box in her lap. 
He took a breath, held it, and let it back out, words unsaid. He tried again, with no better luck. How could two simple words be so hard to say? It wasn't as though they were all that complicated or unfamiliar, and it definitely wasn't as though they were undeserved. 
"Angie..." Starting with her name was a bit easier, and it gave him the impetus to keep going. "I'm sorry. I've been... well, kind of an ass. A lot of one sometimes..." 
"Mmm," she prompted. The lack of denial stung, with its implicit agreement, but he'd expected that. 
"That's it," he sighed. "I'll... try to do better. For you, or..." The words tried to stick in his throat, but he forced himself to continue, "Or if you think we shouldn't - " 
"Mike," she cut in, and he instantly fell silent. The leopard set the box down on the coffee table as she crossed the gap between him, standing over him, holding his gaze. "It's true, you've been a bit hard to take sometimes. But others, you've made me pretty happy, too. If you're going to be so brave as to come out and say this - and I know you mean it, and I know it wasn't easy - then that's better than a lot of guys out there, and the least I can do is give you another chance." 
He swallowed. "R-really?" he stammered, blushing as he heard it happen, as she leaned in, an arm slipping around his neck as she sat on his thigh. 
"Really," she breathed over his muzzle. "You're a very handsome guy, Mike, and you're trying to be a good guy, too." Her fingers alit on his lap, stroking over his fly. "And even if you've sometimes been a little selfish in bed, other times you've proved yourself pretty good with this, and with my folks gone til Wednesday..." She nipped at his chin. "I'd rather feel some more of it than use a fake one like I was about to. If you've got time...?" 
Mike felt a moan slip from his throat. To have her so close to him, saying those things, touching him... Lust conquered nerves, and he felt that familiar tightness growing in his jeans. "God, Angie," he croaked. "I wasn't expecting this, I didn't bring..." 
"Hush." Her next nip was a little lower down, his chin jerking up, out of the way, in response; her fingers pushed down, feeling his stiffening flesh, kneading it. "I've got plenty. Just come upstairs with me, Mike, and let me make you mine." 
The way she said that... A few days ago he'd have resented that, taken offense to the thought of belonging to a girl. But he'd been made to belong to someone else for a little, and it hadn't been nearly so bad as he'd feared. For it to be sleek, handsome Angie doing it... "For real," he breathed, swallowing hard. 
"For real." Her fingers slid along the ridge of his swelling penis as she slid off his leg. Without another word of direction, he stood as well. Grinning at his obedience, she loosened his belt and slid a hand right in, under his jeans and his boxers, taking hold of his length directly. Either heedless of or quite enjoying the resulting moan, she carefully half-led, half-pulled him out into the hall and upstairs. 
By the time she drew him into her room, he'd untucked and unbuttoned his shirt, but she stopped him short of shrugging out of it. "Leave it there," she hissed against his cheek, giving him a warm squeeze. "Shoes, pants, and shorts." 
"Whatever you say," he croaked, attacking his laces once she'd let him go to start undressing herself. He'd never seen this side of her before, and now that he was making himself shut up and allow it... well, it was a wonder he hadn't creamed his shorts on the way up. 
His hands were fumbling a fair bit. By the time he peeled out of his shorts and dropped them atop his jeans, she'd already stripped quite naked and was beckoning to him from the edge of the bed, grinning around the condom wrapper held at the corner by her teeth. Silently save for his ragged breath, he complied, slipping onto the bed - first facing her, then, when she pushed on his shoulder, lying face up. 
She winked, reaching under the bed and dragging something out. "I've been meaning to try these," she whispered, opening a chest and producing - his heart skipped a beat - a set of fur-lined cuffs. Two sets, actually; one pair was separate, each with a long lead, while the other had a short tether between them. 
He glanced at the posts at the corners of her bed, and swallowed hard. And, very carefully, shifted to the centre, spreading his arms out. 
Angie's brows arched. "Oh, my. You do learn fast," she laughed, leaning over to kiss his brow. "Thanks, Mike. It... means a lot to me that you're trusting me with this." 
"I'd probably have said no if you'd asked," he admitted, not quite able to keep the quaver out of his voice. "Or chickened out on the way, or...." 
"Hush," she said, closing one of the soft cuffs about his unresisting wrist. "Here and now, all that matters is you didn't complain. You could've said no, and that would've been fine if you did it right. But instead..." She brushed her lips against his, then slipped away, leaving him whimpering with need as she pulled the other end snug around the post, her soft tail brushing over his hard penis. Then the other side, with a little less teasing. 
Finally, she closed the bigger cuffs around his ankles. Those ones had a little bit of play once she'd put the tethers in place - he could spread his legs a little, or cross his ankles and spread his knees more, or just keep them close together and straight - but were snug enough that he certainly wasn't going anywhere, and with his hands bound, he couldn't even help her prep him. 
Not that he needed to. Her fingers were quite deft indeed as they tore open the package, plucked out the rubber, and applied it to his firm pink length. He almost expected to fill the thing before she was done, but somehow he held on, the thin latex holding tight around his aching length. 
"Such a good boy you are," Angie breathed, swinging a leg over him, straddling his hips. "Are you mine, Mike?" 
"I'm yours," he agreed, trying not to whine. She was so close, her fur teasing over the rubber... if not for that extra layer, he'd probably have come right there. 
"Then let me show you how I'm yours, too," Angie breathed, lifting up, cradling his coated length, then sinking down. 
Onto him. 
In one swift stroke she took him in from tip to balls. He gasped, straining toward her, only to find himself kept short of the tight embrace he longed to give. He moaned out loud in frustration, squirming, straining against her - 
And, sweet mercy, she seemed to like that all the more. 
Pay attention, some part of him said. She's giving you a chance... use it! 
He couldn't help by reaching down and fingering her, of course, and even if his tail were that deft, right now he had no control over the thing whatsoever. But he tried to figure out how she liked him to move, what he could do with his limited leverage that she enjoyed. Each time a whimper or moan slipped out of him, her ears perked a little, and sometimes she even shivered at them - so he gave up trying to hold them in, and let her know full well just how wild she was driving him 
He'd been so near climax before, though, that even the desensitizing effect of an extra-strong rubber, without any lube on the inside to let it slip along his skin, couldn't make up for it under that kind of assault - and all too soon his balls exploded with pleasure. He surged up, drove in to the hilt, even as the frustration of his premature climax made him cry out. 
Not that she minded in the least, it seemed; she pushed right back down against him, stroking over his chest, claws scoring through fur and over skin, making him tense and shiver in whole other ways. She whispered his name, urged him on, brushed her lips against his to catch his frantic breath. 
And when he sagged, spent, she lifted off him and slipped off the rubber - but she didn't let him be; she draped herself over the foot of the bed, caressing his aching length, not letting it get even half-hard before his blood reversed its flow, surging into his penis all over again. 
"I'd have missed this," she breathed, lips brushing his glans. "No time at all and you're ready to go again..." 
He whimpered. To have her lips there made his mind think back a few days - the tile under his knees, the musk filling his nose, that clinging, sticky feel in his throat... "Angie," he whimpered. 
She noticed his real distress, and did not dismiss it; she lifted her head, peering up at him. "What's wrong, Mike? You've been happy enough to have me do that before..." Her fingers stroked over his sac, rubbed behind it at the root of his shaft. 
And, unhelpfully, his thoughts pushed forward still farther - the wet tile under his hands, the hot breath on his neck, and under his tail... He shuddered. "N-not now," he choked out. "Please? Just... not this time..." 
She considered him for a few seconds, sliding back onto the bed and looking down to do so. She was a bright girl; it didn't take her long to figure out that this sudden reluctance and his overall shift in demeanour were related. "Mike," she said, her voice level and sober, "what happened? Did someone... do something to you? I like how you're acting, but if someone - " 
"It was nothing I didn't deserve," he blurted. Holding a grudge would have just been stupid on top of stupid, and if he could get by without a fresh reminder... 
No dice. "That's not for you to say," she told him. "If someone were just yelling at you, that'd be one thing. But for someone to touch you like that..." 
"I said yes," he spit out, then paused. It was just as well he couldn't move his hands far, or one would've smacked his brow. Oh, hell... What on earth had possessed him to admit to doing stuff with someone, anyone else, whatever the circumstances? With agreeing to it? 
She slid up alongside him, curling her hands around his flagging length, coaxing it back toward fullness. "Mike, what happened?" 
He swallowed, squeezing his eyes shut. He'd hoped to leave this buried. Bad enough that the guys kept giving him arch looks... "It was... in the locker room after practise," he said. "I said some stupid shit. Aaron," her cousin, damn it, how had he ever forgotten that, "called me on it. Said, well, if I wanted you to swallow I should do it myself..." The words were tumbling out now, and he dared not stop for fear that he'd never get moving again. "I said I'd do it if he did it for everyone else first - and he said yes without even blinking, but said..." 
He swallowed. For a moment he tried to curl into a ball, but the restraints wouldn't let him. He continued, "He said... said if I didn't swallow it all, he'd get to... to do me. I said sure, didn't think he'd actually do it..." 
"Oh my." Angie shivered against his side, fingertips caressing the underside of the lion's arousal. "Didn't you know Aaron's into guys, hon? God, I wish I could've seen him do it." 
Mike felt his ears flushed. That was going into whole new levels of unfamiliar and uncomfortable territory... "He... he did it. He... blew the entire guys' swim team, and he swallowed every bit..." 
"Even yours? Oh, wipe that look off your face, hon, I don't mind. Far from it." 
Mike nodded, more than a little numb from the recitation. "He... he was good," he whimpered. 
"I'll crib notes," the leopard purred, fingers dancing atop his glans. "So, you... blew him?" 
His throat seized up all over again, remembering the sticky feel of it. But.... "I... didn't get it all down." 
Her breath caught and her fingers stilled. Oh, yes, she followed the implications of that one. "Mike... couldn't you have said no?" 
And he'd been given a few chances, too; that, he had to admit to, looking back. But... "I'd said I'd do it," he sighed. "Wasn't gonna be a liar." 
Angie sighed, fingers curling around his maleness, starting to stroke him, simply but firmly. "Mike, sometimes it's okay to realise something isn't for you, and ask not to do it..." 
Mike just shrugged. 
"Did it hurt?" 
"Well, no," the lion admitted. "It was just... weird. I thought for sure it would, though. I was..." 
When he trailed off, she prompted, "Scared?" 
Mike nodded, biting his lip. Even now, he couldn't make himself say that. 
But she didn't mind. She just kissed him on the cheek, fingertips coursing along his length. "Mike, I..." She shivered against him. "I'm sorry. That had to be rough on you. But... God, Mike, if I could ever be there while a guy was doing you, and you let him, and liked it..." She gave him a firm squeeze, nipping at his ear. "That would be so. Fucking. Hot." 
He whimpered, at the lusty hum in her voice as much as anything else. If he could do something to turn her on that much... something she'd enjoy so thoroughly... 
The thought got put aside for the moment, abandoned in favour of the very real sensations she was subjecting to, starting to overcome both anxiety and post-orgasmic lassitude. Soon she had him bucking into her fist, panting, his tufted tail sweeping over the sheets. 
And when, just as he was about to come, she hooked a finger under his balls, he didn't even have time to protest. He just cried out, arching - and streaked his chin and the headboard with the hardest climax he'd felt in months. Maybe ever. 
He lost track of the world for a bit. When he regained focus, panting, she was still beside him, but she'd opened the cuffs, setting them aside. Her arm was curled around his shoulders, her free hand stroking over his thigh. 
"God, Mike," she whispered. "Maybe I'm not big on what happened there... except for some specific parts. But whyever you did, you've changed so much... It's almost like you're a different guy. In lots of good ways." 
"I'm sorry, Angie," he breathed. That didn't exactly put him in a positive light, after all. 
"It's okay." She reached over and pulled him onto his side, touching her nose to his. "Just relax, okay? Can you spend the night? 
"I... guess so," he said, frowning. He couldn't think of anything offhand that he really needed to get done by morning, and the books he'd need were in the locker at school. 
"I'll let your folks know," she promised, kissing his cheek "You rest up, dear..." She slid off the bed, tail brushing over his thigh. She chuckled over his shoulder. "I'm not done with you yet." 
By the time her voice drifted in from another room, he had already succumbed to a lazy doze.