Dilyn felt like he had come home.


        It was an odd feeling, to be sure. Dilyn’s mom was a consultant, so moving was nothing new for the young rabbit boy. But it usually just felt like another house, a stop and a place to rest himself. Stepping through the front door this time however, it felt like stepping into his house.


        Dilyn’s mother, on the other hand, felt nervous. Uneasy. The way she acted, it seemed like she might have been walking into a stranger’s home without permission. Her fur stood on end, eyes darting, as if something hungry lurked around every corner. She had reason to be nervous however, but she wasn’t about to tell her son. A hand crept to her dress, and she jumped so high when it tugged! “Moooom~?” came the voice of her phantom assailant. She felt silly then, getting worked up over her son.


        There was her son, looking up with a much wider smile then she’d expected. He was normally much more morose about moving. She put on her best smile, hoping to keep her little boy from getting that way, “What’cha need, Dilyn?”
        “May I run up and finish unpacking my room?” His tail was so lively, too. Unpacking was a sign of accepting a new place, so she all too eagerly gave her permission, sending the boy zooming upstairs.


        It was much later into the night, when Dilyn heard his mother call to him upstairs, “Diiilyyyyyn! I’m going to bed. Don’t you stay up too late, you have school tomarrow baby!” He cringed, just a bit. He was twelve, he wasn’t a baby by now. He knew better than to say anything, instead shouting out his door, “Okaaayyyy!”


        The day had taken a lot out of him, of course. Peeling damp clothing off his body, he took time to admire his work. Not a single thing of his was still boxed. All his games were shelved, electronics hooked up. He even had his little Kung Fu Crawfish action figures posed on his dresser. The now nude little bunny burrowed his way into bed, eyes heavy and body weary. So at ease with his new home, he was sleeping even before his eyes had closed completely.


        His morning wasn’t nearly as gentle of course, not if his mom had anything to do with it, cracking open his door to shout to the boy, “DILYN!! Get up, Hop your ass into the shower, Pronto little man!” The boy groaned and murmurred, and tried to recover that blissful state of sleep he was in, but sleep had already been shattered. Defeated, he began to roll out of bed. He heard and felt his fur crunch and crackle a little bit.


        Then he could smell it. He still wasn’t exactly sure what that scent was, but this wasn’t the first time he woke up like this. A musty, salty warm scent.. not something entirely unpleasant, but he knew it wasn’t s clean scent. A glance down to his groin, and he saw the fur around his sheath completely slicked back, plastered to his skin. He skipped straight to the bathroom, before his mom could see.


        There was something else this time, too. The big mirror in the bathroom was the perfect place to investigate. Staring into the mirror, he hiked his leg up onto the toilet seat, having to peel his sac from his sticky groin. Well, his fur was still brown, there was at least that. He actually liked the way he looked. He looked fairly active, and healthy for an angora rabbit, but he could never escape that “soft” sort of build. He’d never look toned or muscled no matter how much he tried. He got to see more of himself too, twisting, trying to find an angle to look at his own rump.


        THat’s where the odd feeling was coming from.. there was a sort of, not entirely unpleasant soreness around his butthole, and he wasn’t about to ask his mom about it. It felt.. damp too. Grasping his own rump for the mirror, he pushed his softly furred cheeks apart, soft rabbit tail arched high. There it was. He didn’t often get to see his own little pucker, but he was sure it wasn’t supposed to look so.. red.


        He swiped a finger across his tender anal flesh, bringing with it a slick, clear fluid, sniffing at his own digit without even thinking. Male. Adult... a scent like the stuff he started waking up with occasionally. It was odd, but.. he wasn’t frightened or alarmed. Just curious, and maybe a little turned on, if the red cocklet of his jutting from his sheath said anything. His finger reached for his undertail once more, but not to simply touch the surface of his backdoor. He actually slid his finger past his slightly sore anal ring, wriggling it within, feeling more odd slickness within.. his breath came in quick puffs. A little further, his hips pushing back, just so he-


        “DILYN!!! Get your ass washed up already!”


        He sharply jerked his finger out, forced back into reality by his mother’s shout. He felt.. disappointed, but he knew he’d have plenty of time after school and a whole weekend to himself.


        Dilyn’s first day at school was almost routine by now. Yes, he was angora. No, it’s not spelled D-I-L-L-I-A-N. Yes, with a Y. Yes, he liked sports. Soccer is his favorite. Everything was practiced and routine for him up until Gym class. As he was starting to make friends, he had learned something... neat!


        His house was HAUNTED! ..Supposedly.
        His schoolmates tried to scare him with the tale, as true as it was. Another family of angora rabbits lived there, single dad with a single son. Supposedly, the dad one day just flipped out and choked the kid to death. The dad was put to death after he had admitted he may have “gone a bit too far” but he never said what made him mad. THat was over 40 years, but since then, no one lived in the place more than five years. That’s where the truth started getting blurry fo course. His new friends making up more fantastic stories about families going crazy, hearing things, seeing walls bleed, mostly to tease the new kid.


        He was happy to get home after school though. Not because he had a bad day at school, but he just.. liked being in this house. His mom was gone and a note left on the fridge for him.


        “Dear Dilyn,
        Mama’s got orientation and training this weekend. I will be flying back in sunday morning. I know my big boy can take care of himself through! I made a few different salads for you in the crisper. Mama’s number is in your cell if you need anything. Don’t wreck the house, and don’t drink all the soda!”
        Fat chance of that, he thought to himself. THen he winced at his mom’s bold double-underlined PS,
        “DON’T SKIP YOUR CLOVER SALADS YOUNG MAN. ...Love, M<3m.”


        He was used to being left alone. More than is likely healthy for a boy his age, but he certainly did not expect the weekend for himself! He left his school clothes right on the kitchen floor, peeling out of them in record time before he popped in a violent, gory super-commando type action flick he knew his mom wouldn’t want him to watch.


        The credits were rolling. He was hungry. HIs big paws carried him to the kitchen crisper, twisting his hips to make the little boner that had just started to pop up wiggle, back and forth. Without his mom, he could be as naked as he wanted, and he always loved it. Even the chill of the fridge didn’t make his pink cocklet shrink back, But he did discover a distinct lack of vinegar or cream to top the greens with.


        He set the bowl of greens on the floor, and settled on his knees. Right on the floor. Between soft fingers, he grasped his own little stiffy. He didn’t ponder long on why he had this idea, or what was driving him to do so. He’d never even masterbated before, but.. something urged him to squeeze. And it felt good. Good enough to make him shudder all over. He grasped his sheath, used it as a sleeve to slide over his young member. It made him feel weak, and he braced against the floor. He kept his little pussslit aimed down at his salad, panting, puffing out little breaths.


        Over the scent of sliced tomato and crisp lettuce, he could smell his own salt. He was whining and panting, little hips thrusting out. It didn’t even take a full minute until he was squealing, painting the greens with his own fresh cream, splattering his salad with a homemade dressing. More then a boy his age should produce, ropes of thick bunny jizz covered the salad as if he had poured the dressing on himself.


        Kneeling over his salad still, holding his softening shaft, he panted.. staring at his salad. WHat he had done. His fingers were all slimy... whatever had happened.. it felt.. great! wonderful even! He’d never felt something so.. incredible in his life! As he took the bowl and placed it on the table, he knew two feelings. Confusion, and happiness. As he jabbed a fork into his painted meal, he wondered why we wasn’t grossed out. But from the first crisp crunchy bite of salty clover greens, he knew he liked his new dressing. He ate fast, and messy, stuffing his cheeks full of crunchy greens and tomatoes. he left the bowl on the table when he was finished, his muzzle and whiskers plastered back to his own face with spooge.


        He was constantly licking his lips. He wanted more.. not more salad. That didn’t stop him from opening the fridge, he wasn’t sure what he wanted.


        But that cucumber looked delicious.