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A Bunny to Play With Ch. 01

By: ChrissieLecker



A/N: This is the first chapter of an already finished 75,000 words sapphic bdsm novel, so you'll not have to fear that you'll have to wait ages for the next installment - let nobody say I don't learn from past mistakes.

Accompany our main characters and best friends, Bunny and Anne, on a journey of discovery into the realms of bdsm, and watch them find love and trust in each other while they almost get swept away by the intensity of their kinky games. If you feel the premise reads somewhat constructed, please bear with me. I promise it will improve quickly. Thank you for taking the time to read and vote. I hope you enjoy reading it! 

Chapter 1 - The Best Laid Plans... 

I clenched my thighs around my hand and tried to stifle the gasp that was trying to escape my throat. Outrageous was the word that popped up in my head, and I said so.

Fabric rustled at the other side of the room, followed by bare feet which pattered unsteadily through the dark. My mattress sank down next to me.

"Anne!" I exclaimed and felt embarrassed, lying in bed like this, my pajama pants down at my ankles, my top bunched around my neck, one hand on my moist sex. Yes, the room was dark and I was covered by the blanket, but I was sure that Anne was all too aware what I was doing in my bed. Until now, with the whole room between us, I could pretend that she didn't realize what I was doing when we had our slippery whispered conversations, and she could pretend the same with me. Her being so close added a whole new level of intimacy, and it made me feel uncomfortable. It crossed a threshold, and I wasn't into girls.

"Hush," she whispered, "just imagine how it would be. You'd have to do anything he asked you to, anything. He'd be unable to resist the temptation."

"I don't know," I whimpered, and felt like chastising myself, I couldn't seriously be considering it!

Anne had always had a wicked imagination, and those few times I had let myself be talked into doing naughty things, like flashing my boobs from the car window or streaking naked across the college lawn at night, it had been her constant needling that had persuaded me. But now that the end of our college time was approaching fast, her imagination seemed to drift from just naughty to seriously kinky. Our nightly talks tended to turn from sweet guys to ropes or cuffs or even whips and paddles on a regular basis, and while it still made me uncomfortable, I couldn't deny that it intrigued me a bit as well.

We'd been roommates for the whole time, almost four years, at St. Mary's College, she, the lean, blonde and tanned embodiment of the hyper and outgoing California girl and me, the grey mouse with the brunette page cut from the bible belt. Despite our differences in looks and upbringing we had gotten on brilliantly from the first moment, and had soon established our roles. I'd keep our room tidy, help her with homework and remind her of deadlines, while she made sure that I didn't get buried under books and whisked me out of the dorm room to party and have fun every so often.

"I really don't know!" I told her again, and almost shrieked when she moved on the bed and the mattress compressed on both sides of my hips. "Anne!"

She tittered. Then her weight settled on my stomach, or in fact, on my arm that was still extended across it and cupping my sex. I stiffened and my eyes went wide, staring fearfully at her silhouette.

"Oh my," she whispered, her amusement dripping from her lips, "the thought has you all worked up. You naughty, naughty girl!"

I don't know what exactly went on in my head at that moment, I could have pushed her off me, ordered her to leave me alone, but something in her playful banter touched deep inside me, reached something previously hidden. My pussy tingled and I couldn't stop myself from crooking a finger and dipping it into my moist folds.

She seemed to notice what was going on with me, because more of her weight settled on my stomach and arm, so I was unable to move it even an inch. I felt trapped - and hot. Then her weight shifted again, and I realized with a gasp that she was leaning forward, until her upper body was pressing down on mine, and her face was just inches from my own.

"Will you do it?" She inquired, and I could feel her breath tickle my cheek.

Goosebumps raced across my skin. I was close to hyperventilating. This felt wrong, but at the same time, something stirred inside me, a beast yearning to be set free.

"I - I don't think I can," I groaned.

Her idea was - as I have already said - outrageous, and I wish I hadn't confessed my fantasies to her, my dreams of being Jason's toy, the plaything of our tall, good-looking, funny dorm neighbor. I had been admiring him from afar for the last two years, and ever since he stopped me from toppling from the floor when I bumped into him after turning a corner a few months ago, my fantasies had turned him into my strong, ruthless hero. He had caught me in his strong hands and set me upright again without effort, with an almost painful grip around my arms.

In the beginning, I had imagined us to make love for hours, sweetly, sensuously, but lately those images had turned towards rough sex, him taking his pleasure from me without asking, without tenderness.

And Anne had come up with a solution. Time was running out, because in a few months - months that would be filled with waiting for the results of our finals, being away for spring break and finally some business orientation courses - we'd be off to real life and real jobs. I don't know if it was the pressure of the upcoming exams or her constant talk about kinky sex that had kindled my fantasies, but I couldn't get them out of my head, and so one night, after a whispered discussion about new kinky implements of torture she had discovered on the internet and a bit tipsy from three glasses of sparkling wine, I had laid my dark secret bare to her. And she had made it her mission to make them become reality. Even worse, I had, in a fit of utter craziness, asked her to make sure it became real.

Her solution was blackmail. No, not blackmailing him, that wouldn't really work, would it? 'Be ruthless or else!' What a silly idea! Anne's idea was rather the opposite, about giving him the material to blackmail me. Of course, that sounds easier as it is, but while I was still stumped about how I could accomplish that after she had lined out her basic idea, she already had a plan. A crazy, convoluted plan nonetheless, but then, her plans tended to be like that, but she usually got what she wanted. And so I played along, albeit hesitantly.

In fact, it could be reduced to two words: lewd conduct. St. Mary's was a catholic college, and while it was overall just as modern as others, a few outdated views were still alive in the rulebook. One of those was the ban on gay and lesbian sex, and an offence would mean immediate expulsion. Perfect blackmail material.

"Anne," I pleaded once more, "I can't! What if something goes wrong, what if the pictures come out into the open? It's my future, I'd get thrown out without a degree!"

"Oh Bunnie," she whispered. "If you don't take risks, you'll never experience anything worthwhile." Suddenly, her fingers were stroking my cheek.

"Anne!" I objected, and pulled my free arm out of the blanked to push her hand away. Before I could do so she had anticipated my movement and captured my wrist, pulling my hand above my head and pushing it down into the cushion, then her other hand went back to caressing my cheek. "Anne!"

My protests fell on deaf ears. "Don't fight it, honey," she purred, "imagine I'm Jason, and I have you here, helpless, knowing that I can do with you whatever I want."

I couldn't help it. I mean, I probably could have helped it, if I had really tried. But the image was so delicious that I didn't want to resist. I was aware that our nightly sessions of whispering across the room had suddenly changed into something profoundly sexual, and that I was letting myself being led towards a slippery slope, but I didn't care.

After four years of friendship, I trusted Anne, and I didn't want to pass up the possibility of fulfilling my fantasies. But, most of all, something about my position, one hand trapped on my pussy, the other over my head, made my body tingle and my clit pulsate. I closed my eyes.

"Oh god," I murmured, "I'm so hot. I'm yours."

I know, I'd had more eloquent moments in my life, but thinking was really becoming difficult.

"Yes, you're mine." To me, it was now Jason's deep voice mixed with Anne's. "Mine to do whatever I want."

I could almost smell the heavy scent of his aftershave, and I shuddered from want. Then I felt pressure on my left breast, fingers wrapping around it through the thin blanket, kneading it roughly. I squirmed, groaning my approval while I added a second finger in my pussy and began to pump then in and out, slowly.

Teeth nibbled on the tender spot between my shoulder and neck and drew a long moan from me. "Harder!" I demanded, and my wishes were instantly answered by a sharp yet bearable pain that had me gasping for air. The fingers around my breast clenched, mauled it, and I felt the heat there spread through my body. I was fast approaching my climax, and my gasps and moans made it obvious.

Then the teeth and the hand left, and Anne's weight shifted back and forced me to stop my ministrations on my pussy. I felt somehow empty and complained. "Nooo! Bitch!"

A giggle answered me. "Come on, let's do it."

A bit of rational thought returned, but not enough to suppress the yearning between my thighs. My breath was still way faster than normal. The shame I felt for almost climaxing at the hands of my female roommate didn't help. "What? Now?"

"No time like the present!" Her voice was self-assured and determined.

My lips went dry, and my heart started to beat a mile a minute. "Can't we just do it tomorrow?" My question sounded meek and was overshadowed by the unsatisfied need in my loins.

Then her weight vanished from the bed, and before I could react, my blanket was pulled away. I gasped. Some rustling followed, then I heard the click of the switch of the lava lamp on my nightstand, and the room was tinted with soft, reddish light.

I started to tremble, foreign emotions were running wild inside my heaving chest while I stared at the ceiling above me, not daring to look at Anne.

I heard her giggle again, and the feeling of mortification doubled.

"You're quite the sight," she told me while she dug around in her half of the cupboard, "with your pajama bunched around your feet and neck. Are those two fingers in your pussy?"

I gasped and started to pull my hand away.

"No, leave it like it is. You look delicious like this." Her voice was sharp, commanding, and I followed her order without a second thought. I consciously knew that this was wrong, and the term 'delicious' shouldn't be used by my roommate, not to describe me with two fingers stuck up my sex, but that short role play had me feel meek and pliable - and loving it. Anne had, of course, seen me naked before, we had communal showers at the gym, after all. But this was completely different.

"And keep your other arm above your head like this."

That made me aware that I hadn't moved my other arm an inch after she had let go. I'd been blushing before, but now the heat was racing over my cheeks and down my cleavage in waves.

"Tadaa! There it is!" Anne exclaimed and skipped back across the room, holding up an old Polaroid camera like a trophy. Then she was balancing at the corner of the bed and pointing the camera at me, and I suddenly started to doubt the whole thing again.

"Anne! Please, don't!"

"Oh come on, don't be a chicken now. I promise you it will work." And then, like a death blow, she added the one thing she know I was helpless against. "Think of Jason, he'll come in his pants once he sees the pictures. Come on, imagine your fingers are Jason's. Show him your desire!"

That did it. I closed my eyes again, suddenly the fingers weren't my own anymore and I imagined how he would touch me, without hesitation, how he'd plunge his thick fingers into my wet channel.

"Do it hard, shove them in!"

I moaned and immediately followed my request by pushing my fingers as hard as I could into my pussy. "Yes!" I exclaimed and repeated the motion, faster and faster. Once more I was nearing my orgasm, and I didn't even realize I was staring into the camera, and I didn't hear the clicking and whirring while Anne was shooting pictures. My thighs started to tremble, and any moment now I was going to topple over the edge.

"Stop!" Anne's command drew me out of my bliss, and I followed her order, albeit hesitantly. I was gasping for breath and perspiring like I had run a marathon.

"Please!" I moaned. It was the second time that I had been pulled from the edge of the cliff, and my need was running havoc in my sex.

"We still have to do the important part," Anne reminded me, and with dread I realized that she was right. For our harebrained scheme to work, we'd have to give the plausible impression of lesbian sex. Anne had laid it all out to me, and it had sounded easy, just a bit of make-believe, toying with the camera angle to give the impression of body contact. Still, once those shots were done, the only thing left was to make sure Jason got into possession of the photos.

While I was thinking about that, my roommate had jumped down from the bed and moved her swivel chair into the center of the room. She had set the camera down on it and was just pulling her pink nightie over her head. I noticed for the first time how small and perky her breasts were. Her nipples were tiny buds, reminding me of over-ripe red currants.

Then she picked up the camera again and sat down on the edge of the chair. Her index finger motioned me over to her. Like in a trance, I rolled out of bed and slowly shuffled the few steps until I was standing in front of her.

"Kneel," she whispered softly, and I did.

"Spread your legs. Wide." I took a deep breath and followed that command as well.

Looking up, I saw a smile play over her slightly parted lips, and a strange glint in her eyes. For a moment I had the idea she might have the hots for me, but I immediately let go of the silly notion. I'd have noticed that in the years we'd been rooming together.

She leaned forward, and with the chair on its lowest settings, her breasts were right in front of my nose. I could smell the soft, clean aroma of body lotion on her skin, mixed with a hint of lemony perfume. "Pretend to suck on one of my nipples."

A bit hesitantly, I bent my neck and brought my mouth close to her left breast. This felt kinky, forbidden. The Polaroid whirred again, and I waited with bated breath for the picture to develop.

"That won't do." I perked up, staring at Anne, who threw the photo across the room and looked down at me with a sigh. "I don't think pretending will do in this case." She declared, and I almost choked on my spittle.

"You don't mean..."

"Of course I do!" Her voice was suddenly a bit angry, and I felt at a loss.

"But, Anne..."

"You're aware that I'm doing all this for you, aren't you? I'd not let just any girl touch my tit with her mouth." Her voice became softer. "You're my best friend, and I want to see you happy."

I gulped. And felt guilty. She was right, however mad the plan she had cooked up was, it was to get me into Jason's pants. Or him into mine.

"I'm sorry," I whispered and lowered my eyes to the floor.

"Hey, it's okay." Her index finger lifted my chin up, and I felt a sudden bout of gratitude. "You know what to do."

And I did. She leaned forward again, and I closed my lips around her nipple. It felt strange, so soft and firm at the same time. I could feel the small bumps and ridges of her otherwise silky skin against my lips. She tasted like she smelt, clean, smooth, lemony.

"Look up at me," she guided me, "then suck on it and run your tongue over it. It has to look natural."

I followed her instructions and was rewarded by slightly drawn out "yes". Her face was mostly hidden behind the camera, but her voice betrayed her arousal, and for a moment I panicked that this might cross one line too many. But then I realized that I had become aroused by her ministrations on the bed earlier too, and that it might just be normal under the circumstances.

I renewed my effort, sucking hard on her small nipple and flicking it every so often with the tip of my tongue. The camera whirred, and I looked up hopefully, awaiting her judgment.

"Yes," she finally declared, "this one is perfect." And with a giggle she added, "You can stop sucking, by the way."

Oh my god! I had been so taken up in the moment that I hadn't realized I was still working my roommate's nipple with my mouth. I wanted a hole to open up and swallow me, unable to understand what was happening with me.

Anne meanwhile pulled the lever to extend the chair to its highest setting. Her sex slowly moved upwards, until it was almost at chin level in front of me. I gulped, and felt knots form in my stomach. Which got even tighter when she declared that she had only three photos left in the camera and should avoid wasting any by trying to pretend.

Oh my god! Screamed the voice inside my head, she wants me to lick her pussy for real! The idea in itself was gross! With her nipple it was just skin, not much different from a slightly wet kiss on the cheek. But her pussy, with all her fluids?

She sensed my anxiety. "Relax," she soothed, but suddenly she jumped up from the chair and told me to stay like I was.

"I know just the thing, and it'll add to the picture," she explained while she rummaged in one of her drawers. "Yep, perfect."

The sound of her bare feet stopped right behind me. "Don't be alarmed," she told me. "I'm just going to bind your wrists behind you." And with that, her hands gripped my shoulders and began to travel down my arms, guiding them behind me. And I let her, until my wrists were crossed behind my back, and could feel her wrapping some kind of thin, soft cord around them and pull it tight. Very tight.

"Anne," I protested, "it hurts." But I didn't try to move my arms.

"Oh Bunnie," she sighed, "it has to. Remember, no pretending."

She wrapped a few more loops around my wrists and tied each one really tight. I gasped a few times.

"There, done!" She finally exclaimed, a bit giddy, and then I yelped as a slap sounded and a sharp sting cut into my bum.

"Anne!"

"Sorry, Bunnie," though sound sorry she did not, "it's just that you look positively spankable like that."

The slap left a heated spot on my right bum cheek, and for a moment I felt strangely asymmetric. I almost asked her to hit the other cheek too, but I managed to catch myself before I could make a complete fool out of myself.

Then Anne was back on the chair and wheeling closer to me on tiptoes. I held my breath and stared up at her, like the proverbial deer in the headlights.

"Oh my," she giggled, "stop looking as if you're being walked to the executioner." Then she tilted her head and got that mischievous look I had gotten to know so well. "Jason is going to go crazy when he sees that pic. Nothing gets a guy horny faster than some real girl-on-girl action, and I bet the first thing he'll do after seeing those pics is wank that big rod of his. You want to please Jason, don't you?"

Again, the magic word. "Yes!" It was more a shout than a whisper.

And then things got crazy. Anne pulled her legs up and put the soles of her feet behind my head, her knees wide apart. Her left hand snaked down to her sex and started to pull her pussy lips apart, while she relaxed her upper body into the high back of the chair.

Her feet started to push, which pulled the chair closer to me, inch by inch. I could see the small landing strip of short, blonde hair, the soft, glistening folds of her inner labia, her pink clit that seemed to swell and gain a deeper color, and I could smell her, musky, sweet, sharp and altogether overwhelming. For a moment I felt the need to push her away, but the only thing I accomplished was to pull futilely on the cord around my wrists. The moment passed, and now the tip of my nose was almost touching her clit. Her scent grew heavier, but I felt like a train without brakes, compelled to do the inevitable. I extended my tongue and licked. Tentatively, only with the tip.


A Bunny to Play With Ch. 01



"You'll make such a beautiful sex slave for him!"

My roommate's words were like a gunshot, and I could feel the dam inside me first crack, then break. Fresh desire streamed through my sex and my nipples stiffened almost painfully.

A silly, irrational thought gripped me. While I was kneeling here, ashamed and slutty, I suddenly wanted her to feel the same intensity of need. And there was only one way to accomplish that.

I started licking in earnest, trying to mimic with my tongue what I loved my own fingers doing with my pussy. I ran the upper side flat along her inner lips, wiggled it around, circled the entrance to her channel. I could hear her gasp and feel her start to gyrate her hips. Gleefully, I flicked her clit and relished the shudder that ran through her body each time I did so. Her breathing became faster and faster, and I followed up with my ministrations, flicking and slurping and even nibbling on her lips and clit, again and again, each of those forbidden actions rewarded by her shuddering, hitching breath.

My jaw started to ache, and my tongue felt slightly numb, when her whole body finally started to tremble and a deep moan escaped her throat. Her moan rose higher and higher, and her hands suddenly pulled me tight to her pussy and her thighs clamped tight around my head. Her body arched and convulsed in the chair, and I was pulled around with it. I was unable to breath, my mouth and nose filled with her moisture and scent. Nearly a minute went by until her grip relaxed, and I was finally able to take a breath again and shake away those small black dots that started to speckle my vision.

We stared at each other. She, in post-orgasmic bliss, an expression of wonder and fulfillment in her eyes, and I, my face coated with her juices and my now moist bangs sticking everywhere, deeply ashamed and unable to believe what I had just done.

My eyes grew misty, and a tear started to trickle down my left cheek. Anne dropped instantly from the chair and knelt in front of me, her arms encircling me, pulling me close and softly stroking my back.

Then I felt something soft and warm on my chin, and when the warmth trailed up across my cheek, I realized she was licking up the tear.

"Anne!" I gasped, but she only pulled me closer.

"Thank you, Bunnie, that was such a beautiful gift."

The situation felt surreal, so overwhelming that the only thing I could do was lean into her embrace and give in to her soothing sounds and soft caresses.

I don't know how long we stayed like this, perhaps five minutes, perhaps fifteen. A few more tears mixed with the juices already on my cheeks, and a few sobs shook my body. But finally, my emotional turmoil settled again, and I was able to take a few deep, liberating breaths.

"You okay?" Anne inquired.

"Yes. Yes I am."

Her arms let go of me and she slid a foot backwards. Then she stared into my eyes, as if questioning. I didn't understand what she was asking, but I was unable to turn my eyes away. Her hand cupped my chin.

"Do you trust me?"

Something fundamental had changed in our dynamics, I realized, and more was probably about to change. Yet, she was my best friend, if I couldn't trust her then I could trust nobody. I nodded.

"Tell me."

"I trust you." Just a whisper.

She smiled. I realized for the first time how pretty she was when she smiled. "With what do you trust me?" She wanted to know, her voice barely louder than mine.

"Everything." I didn't have to think before answering.

"With your body?"

"Yes."

"With your heart?"

"Yes Anne."

"With your sexuality?"

There it was. And even while I whispered "Yes, Anne" my mind screamed at me to say no. The atmosphere was supercharged like just before a major thunderstorm, and I could almost feel the small, electric sparks dance across my skin.

She slid to my side and put a hand on my back. "Lean back."

And I did. Her hand held me and let me slowly sink to the floor. It felt a bit awkward, and uncomfortable, but somehow I dared not move. "I'm - I'm not a lesbian!" I complained meekly.

She just giggled. "I know. Spread your legs."

I did.

Then she was between my legs. Questions raced through my mind. Would she touch me there? Perhaps lick me, lick I had done her?

But she bent forward, leaning over me, and suddenly her hands were on my breasts.

"You have beautiful tits," she whispered, "so round, and tight. Without a blemish. And your nipples, they look yummy. So big and long. So many things one could do them."

"Things?" I croaked, "What things?"

Anne smiled innocently. "I'll show you."

And then her arms were to my left and right, and her mouth captured my left nipple. After my first shock wore off, it felt incredible. Warm and moist, and the suction she applied was heaven. Her tongue started to do wicked things to it, and I couldn't decide what felt better - the circling, teasing, rubbing she was doing or the quick, hard flicks.

Suddenly, a searing pain shot through the nipple. I gasped and my head shot up. She had captured the tip between her teeth and was pulling my nipple taut, even grinding her teeth from left to right!

But just as was opening my mouth to complain, a fingernail scraped over my clit, and the pleasurable electric shock that travelled through my body robbed me of all words. And then something strange happened. The pain in my nipple mixed with the pleasure from my clit and formed a feeling of intensity I had never before experienced. I almost came.

"Oh god," I moaned, "oh my god. Don't stop, don't stop!"

But at just that moment Anne let go of my nipple and clit. I lay there, panting, unfulfilled, whimpering.

"Please," I begged, "please make me cum."

She seemed to think for a few seconds, then she smiled. "If I make you cum, I want two things from you." One of her fingers trailed over my wet pussy while she talked and kept me on that delicious, cruel edge.

"Anything, Anne!" I promised with need filling my voice.

"Okay, like I said, two things. The first thing is that I want you to pinch both of your nipples with your nails, just as hard is if it were my teeth."

I nodded hastily, not sure if I could do it, but so desperate for an orgasm that I would certainly try my best.

"Second, I want you to allow me to bite your clit."

I gulped. My eyes went wide. I think I even started to tremble a bit. If the pain in my nipples was anything to go by, and knowing that my clit was a hundred times more sensitive, the pain had to be really bad. But then I looked into Anne's face, saw the hunger and need for plain old me in the beautiful blonde's eyes, and another layer of resistance inside me gave way.

"I'll let you bite my clit." I told her quickly, before I could change my mind.

"Brilliant!" She exclaimed, instantly giddy like a child in front of the christmas tree. "Then start."

I moved my hands a bit hesitantly towards my nipples, and it took me a few tries to get the right grip. But then I couldn't delay anymore and started to pinch my nails together. It hurt, and I immediately eased the pressure.

"Harder," Anne encouraged me, "I know you can do it." A finger ran encouragingly over my slit, and I pulled together all my courage and really pinched.

A cry escaped my lips. Needle pricks shot through my nipples and tits, and I involuntarily curled my toes.

"A little bit harder, then you're there!" Anne commanded, a breathless note in her voice. "You're such a strong girl!"

That sentence stirred something in my chest, and I felt a need to please her, to prove her trust in me true. I pinched as hard as I could. Tears welled up in my eyes. Where before needles had been thrust into my nipples, searing blades were now doing their work.

"Oh god, you're so beautiful like this." Anne's face was just inches from mine, though I could hardly see anything through my blurred eyes. "Hold the pressure, don't let go." I had hoped that my sensitive nubs would go numb over time, but every small movement sent fresh agony through my breasts.

"Please," I begged, "please Anne!" Tears leaked down my cheeks in steady intervals now. Then her tongue was there again, lapping up the salty liquid, alternating between my cheeks. My thighs started to tremble like mad, but finally she appeared sated.

"Beg me to bite you." I almost couldn't handle the cruelty of her request, and she seemed to realize that. "I'll make you cum so much harder for it." It sounds incredible, but the promise of a climax even made the pain in my nipples a lot more bearable. Then she added: "Be a good girl, please. For me."

And with that, I was done for. "Please," I whimpered through sobs, "please Anne, bite my clit!"

"Hm," she tilted her head left and right, as if thinking. "Should I just nibble it? Or bite it really hard?"

She was playing with me, torturing me by extending the time I spent with my nipples in my vice-like grip, and building up the anxiousness about the final event. I couldn't take much more, my stomach and sides were also trembling now, and when the tremors overlapped, my whole body twitched.

"Hard!" I gasped, "as hard as you dare! Please!"

"If you say so," she whispered throatily, her satisfaction dripping like honey from her lips.

Before I could prepare myself, her head was between my legs, and then a stabbing pain shot through my pussy. I wailed, but the pain didn't stop, and then my voice gave out. I squirmed on the floor, trying to get away from that torture, but Anne's hands grabbed my ankles and pushed them up and back, folding me almost in half. Her teeth still ground my clit between them. Just as I thought I'd black out, she let go of my ankles and clit. I brought my legs back to the floor and took deep breaths, trying to get my sobs under control.

"You can let go of your nipples," she whispered, and I did that. I wiped my eyes and looked at them, tentatively, afraid that I might see rivulets of blood running over my tits. There was none, just a few indentations in my nipples, but obviously I had suffered no permanent damage.

"Good girl!"

And I did feel some pride well up at having it made through this treatment. Then Anne's lips were back at my opening, licking over it, sucking hard on my clit. The feeling from my hyper-sensitive nub was a mixture of pain and pleasure that I can only describe as deliriously exquisite. My pussy pulsed and clenched in synch with her sucking.

Before I could gather my senses, she stuck two fingers inside me and twirled them, and my nipples joined the pulsing. My skin prickled everywhere, and I felt weightless, like flying. I moaned and shook in time with her lips and fingers, like a doll on strings, and every second lifted me higher and higher, until I thought I couldn't take anymore.

Then she did the unthinkable. I felt a slight pain in my pucker, but before I realized what was going on, she had stuck a finger, coated with my pussy juice, up my ass and started to wiggle it. It felt strange, bloated - I had never had anything pushed into that opening, not even a fever thermometer - but the whole experience was so naughty and kinky that it took me over the edge.

My pussy contracted in waves, and a feeling of bliss, so strong it nearly made me faint, shot through me. My back lifted from the floor, taut like a bowstring, and I think I screamed. Again and again, as every time I thought the feeling was finally ebbing away, Anne would suck hard on my clit, wiggle her finger and send new waves of pleasure through me.

Yet, after what felt like hours, the moment came when I could take no more. I slumped to the ground, boneless, and pulled my knees together to protect my clit.

Anne quickly loosened the knots around my wrists and rubbed them to get the blood flowing again. Tiny needle pricks shot through my fingers, but I was to exhausted to complain.

I was quite out of it for a bit, because when I became aware again, we were laying on my bed, naked above the blanket, and Anne was spooning me, her arm wrapped around me protectively. I sighed. And began to sob. My whole body was shaking.

"What is it, Bunnie?" Anne sounded genuinely worried.

"I - I don't know." And I really didn't know, I was far too worn out to think. "So intense," I hiccupped, and in answer, she pulled me close to her.

"I understand," she whispered, "but you need to sleep."

Which I did, after some time, after a few more tears and after more sweet, soothing words from her. 



A Bunny to Play With Ch. 02



I awoke early, much too early for a Saturday. The sun was just peeking over the horizon, but I needed to pee, urgently. I had been disoriented, and I had almost jumped in fright when I had become aware of the body snuggled up to me. Then yesterday's events came back to me, and I realized that the body belonged to my - roommate? Friend? Lover?

I slowly extricated myself, careful not to wake her up. She groaned quietly when I put her arm back onto the bed, but she didn't stir. In slow motion, I got up and traipsed to the bathroom. The face looking back from the mirror was still my own, perhaps a bit disheveled, but nothing out of the ordinary. I ran my hands over my breasts, and the slight ache in my nipples told me that yesterday had not just been a dream. Now curious, I captured them between my fingers and pinched. That hurt, so much that my knees buckled, and I quickly let go.

Then I spread my pussy lips, trying to see if something down there looked damaged, but I needed a closer view. So I pulled out the round magnifying mirror from under the sink and set it down on the closed toilet. I spread my legs and crouched over it, again pulling my lips apart. And gasped. My clit was still a bit swollen, lewdly peeking out from its hood, and a lot darker than the surrounding skin.

I gave it a delicate flick and nearly lost my balance, so intense was the feeling which shot upwards between my legs. After I had righted myself, I couldn't resist and flicked it again. Before, I had only ever masturbated in the secrecy of my bed and covered by my blanket. And while I knew that my clit would quickly swell to almost triple its normal size, I had never consciously watched it do so. I had an idea and wet my finger with my spittle before flicking it again. That felt even better. Soon I was flicking my now fully engorged clit every few seconds, relishing that wonderful spark that ignited between my legs.

"Such a naughty girl!"

I jumped backwards, almost toppling the mirror from the toilet, and shrieked. My hands quickly covered my pubes and breasts. My heart raced and my cheeks burned.

"Anne!" I exclaimed, in lack of a better response.

She only grinned at me and stepped closer. Her hand wrapped around the arm covering my breasts, and she sighed. "Silly girl, don't try to hide what I have already seen up close."

She was right, in a way, and I let her guide my arm to my side. Her look dared me, and after a short moment of insecurity, I let the other arm drop to my side as well.

"Better." She walked around me, and it made me nervous. Then she was behind me, close, and rested her chin on my shoulder. "Don't let me stop you from what you were doing."

I almost gave in. But then a bit of rational thought returned to me, and I started to look for a way out. This was all happening too fast.

"I - I need to pee." I waited, but instead of leaving, her arms went around my body and started to massage my tummy. "Please, Anne!"

"Please, what?"

Her rhythmic massage heightened my need to urinate, and I wondered if she was doing it on purpose. "Please, I really need to pee, Anne."

"And? What's the problem?"

She knew damn well what the problem was, but somehow she had managed to make me feel meek and insecure, almost like the evening before.

"Please, Anne," I pleaded now, "I need to pee, and you're still here." Her hands pressed down even harder onto my tummy, and if she kept this up, I'd not make it another minute. But instead of leaving, she spun me around to face her.

"Listen, Bunnie," she addressed me, her hands wrapped around my upper arms and her nails digging into my skin, "I have learned a few things about you yesterday. Things I'm sure you didn't even know yourself. One: being ashamed makes you tingle. Two: pain makes you fly. Three: a girl's tongue makes you explode. And, like a good friend should, I'll make you tingle and fly and explode as much as possible."

"That - that's not true!" I protested, because it wasn't true. I had already been worked up yesterday, that's what had made me agree to the whole thing, and then Anne had kept me from coming and exploited my desperation.

"Let's try an experiment," Anne proposed, "to see if shame really doesn't turn you on. It'll only take a minute or two, and if it's over and you're not more turned on than before, I'll never bring it up again. Agreed?"

Somewhere deep inside I knew that she was playing me like a violin. But I really thought I'd have a chance to prove her wrong. I nodded.

"Good girl. Keep a tab on your arousal." A few seconds later she had put the mirror on the windowsill and flipped up the toilet lid, then she was softly pushing me towards it.

"What are you doing?" I protested, but I let myself be turned around and pushed down on it. Then my knees were pulled apart, and Anne knelt down between them, her arms resting on my things. Then her fingers pulled apart my pussy lips.

"Pee, Bunnie," she ordered, "I want to see that hot, stinky piss shoot out of your body and into the bowl."

Her eyes were only a foot from my pussy. It felt obscene, and degrading. My cheeks pulsed in shame. But even though I begged her to stop this, with my eyes and voice, she didn't relent. But I just couldn't pee like this - until she pinched her nails into my pussy lips. The pain, while far from the pain when she bit my nipple and clit, was still unexpected, and the moment of distraction was enough for my bladder to claim its release. And while my mind was mortified about what was happening, the relief of finally being able to pee was wonderful, almost sexual. It seemed to take ages, like a river leaking from between my legs and splashing into the white bowl, but after a minute it slowed to a trickle and finally the last drop splattered into the toilet. I tried to reach for the toilet paper.

"Stop! Before you wipe, tell me how aroused you are. More or less?"

She looked up at me, self-assured and expectant. When I looked at my own body, I gasped. My nipples were extended like tiny, blood-red daggers, and my clit almost resembled a small cherry.

"More or less?" Anne inquired again.

I had to hang my head in defeat. "More," I whispered.

"See," she declared, happy, "I told you so, but you wouldn't believe me. You should really start to trust my judgment. Talking about judgment," she pulled a few sheets of toilet paper off the roll and folded them, "I think your infatuation with Jason was a case of bad judgment on your side. Lean back."

I leant back, a bit miffed now. "What do you mean with bad judgment? He's not that bad."

"Not bad, my ass, he wouldn't know how to treat a submissive if she lay at his feet with a manual. He's a jock."

"Submissive?" I had come about that term a few times browsing through the internet, looking for something to read that didn't stretch my purse to the limit. "I'm not a submissive."

"Not? I didn't realize." Her voice was dripping with sarcasm. "Then how do you call a girl who asks her girlfriend to bite her clit, tortures her own nipples, pees on command and lets her friend wipe her after peeing?"

I guess I'm just naive. I really hadn't made the connection, and I swear that I had, in my righteous indignation, completely missed that the hand guiding the tissue through my folds wasn't my own. Both points did nada to alleviate my shame. The tissue dropped into the bowl, and I hastily jumped up and closed the lid when Anne pressed the button to flush. She immediately guided me down to sit on the lid.

"As I said, before you so helped so brilliantly in proving my point, Jason was an error in judgment, one I couldn't let you make, photos or not." Her eyes scanned mine, probably looking for hints of protest. I was still trying to wrap my mind around everything, but perhaps she was right. Jason was good-looking, true, with a fit body, but apart from that and the one moment in the hallway our contacts had consisted of friendly hellos in passing. I nodded, a bit defeated.

"He's not coming to the card game on Wednesday evening."

Now my eyes went wide. "When did you..."

"I didn't invite him in the first place. I knew it was a bad idea."

I gasped. So all of her elaborate planning had been a farce? Well, everything that was going to happen after the pictures were taken anyway? I asked her that.

"Oh, Bunnie, baby," she just smiled, like she was chiding a small child, "nothing was a farce. I was just trying to prove something to you, so I had to work Jason into the mix. Otherwise you'd have balked at the first minute."

"But the photos?"

"Come here," she ordered instead of answering my question. When I didn't react immediately, she repeated the command, in a sharper voice, and like in a trance, I got up from the lid and stepped in front of her.

"Remember the orgasm you had yesterday? That all-consuming, powerful climax?"

I nodded, my mind racing back through my memories to that wonderful moment when time had seemed to stop.

"Do you want to experience that again and again?"

Once more I nodded.

"Kneel."

I dropped like a stone; thank god we were on the small rug in the middle of the bathroom, otherwise it might have hurt. When I looked up at her, something shifted inside me.

"Sit on your heels and spread your legs, then grip your wrists behind your back."

A little shuffling and I had done as she asked. She studied me with obvious pleasure, and I felt a bit like a pet. Adored, small, and subject to the whims of her owner. Still, I couldn't deny the moisture accumulating between my legs. Something about this treatment resonated in me, and the more I tried to deny it, the more obvious the truth became.

"I'm a submissive," I declared, testing the word on my tongue, and suddenly there was a warm cocoon of surrender wrapped around me.

"My submissive." Anne's voice was sharp, but it held a loving undertone.

"Your submissive," I conceded.

"And that makes me?" she asked, one eyebrow lifted.

"My - my mistress?" My answer was tentative, and it felt a bit strange. Yes, I had read a few stories featuring that kind of mistress, but those women always were older, more the governess type. Addressing someone my age, someone even a few months younger than me, like that took a bit of getting used to. Hell, addressing anyone like that needed getting used to.

"Yes, your Mistress," Anne said and stroked my head. "And to make it easier for you to distinguish between your best friend Anne and your mistress, you'll address me as 'Mistress Summers' when we're alone or when I tell you to."

"Okay," I said, and immediately realized my mistake when Anne's hand shot down and pinched my nipple painfully.

"I'm sorry, Mistress Summers." The pain faded as soon as I had finished my sentence.

"Good. You're a fast learner, though nobody who knows you would have doubted that. I need to use the loo myself and then I'll have a shower, why don't you make me a coffee and wait for me at the table?"

"Yes, Mistress Summers." I almost jumped upright again, nervous, then traipsed outside and closed the bathroom door behind me. At the table, I had to sit down for a minute. My thoughts were swirling around in my head like a swarm of butterflies. Sitting didn't help though, and so I started to prepare the coffee. I filled up the water, added more beans into the grinder - Italian blend, her favorite - and put a big cup under the outlet. The grinder made a hell of a noise, but it was one of the best machines on the market. After a lot of bubbling and clicking from inside it, the brew ran into the cup, and the aroma made my stomach grumble. I realized that the exertion yesterday evening had left me low on calories, and hastily fished a vanilla cookie from the sweets drawer. It tasted wonderful.

It also managed to appease my stomach, so I finished preparing the coffee. A half teaspoon of sugar and just a hint of milk. I placed it on the table in front of her chair and sat down in mine, awaiting her return.

Then a memory of one of the stories I had read came back, and after a bit of struggling with myself, I dropped to my knees and crawled to the side of her chair, my cheeks flushed and a crazy, giddy feeling in my chest. I spread my knees about shoulder-width apart and set down on my heels, put my hands on my thighs, arched my back and put my chin up, with my eyes to the floor.

The pose was harder to hold than I had expected, and I had to move my upper body back and forth a few times until I found an angle that didn't put too much strain on my back. Then I waited. I heard the water start, then after a minute or two, stop again. A few minutes later it started up again, and I couldn't help but imagine Anne in the shower, her hair slick and shiny, small speckles of foam adorning her petite breasts, drops of water traveling down between her legs and adorning her beautiful pussy like pearls.

Oh god, when had I started to find her pussy beautiful?

Then the door opened, and Anne stepped into the bedroom, a white towel around her body, her hair wrapped up inside a pink one. She started to glow when she saw me, and I was assured that I had done something right.

"Your coffee is ready, Mistress Summers." I lowered my gaze to the floor, demure and content.

Anne sat down on the chair and rewarded me by caressing my cheek. I leaned into her touch and enjoyed the smell of her clean, freshly lotioned skin while she sipped her coffee.

"It's perfect," she proclaimed, "and I'm not just talking about the coffee."

"Yes, Mistress Summers," I agreed, wholeheartedly.

"Fetch me a pad of paper and a pen, Bunnie, then hop into the shower yourself."

"Yes, Mistress Summers." I acknowledged her order and started to get up, but a hand on my shoulder stopped me.

"I want you to crawl, Bunnie. In fact, I want you to crawl all the time inside our rooms, unless you have to stand, like for washing the dishes."

"Yes, Mistress Summers." I shifted to all fours and started to crawl to the sofa where our writing utensils were stowed. It wasn't far. As dorm rooms go, ours was quite luxurious - more of a small flat, with space for two beds on both sides of the window, partial walls that separated the sleeping area from the living room. It had a sofa with a coffee table and an ottoman on one side, framed by a low sideboard, and a small kitchenette on the other, with an extensible two-person table and four chairs, of which two were usually stacked between the kitchenette and the wall. The rest of the wall on the sofa side was filled up with our closet, while the other wall held the door to our en-suite bathroom and a slim bookcase. The room was probably a little more than twenty feet wide and a bit longer.

Nevertheless, fetching the pad and paper only took a few seconds, but I could feel Anne's eyes on my naked bum the whole time. And I enjoyed it. I fidgeted a little with the utensils, fearful to crumple the paper or break the pen when I was crawling, but then I found a solution. I put the pad on my back and the pen between my lips, then I crawled carefully back to her.

She picked up the pad from my back and pulled the pen from my lips with a smile. "Off you go," she ordered with a giggle and a light slap to my bum.

And so I crawled to the bathroom, stretching to turn the knob and pushing open the door with my nose. It felt silly. And hot.

I was just about to close the door when Anne's voice interrupted me. "Leave the door open, Bunnie, all the way. And make sure to wash that sticky snatch of yours out well."

I realized what she was doing, really. I'm not as dumb as I appear from time to time. I was on my way to get a degree in digital advertising, after all. I'm just a bit naive now and then, but I was very much aware that she was starting to strip away my privacy, piece by piece, to make me feel more naked and exposed than pure nudity could.

And it worked. I could feel it between my legs.

"I will, Mistress Summers."

Then I crawled into the shower. I had to stand up to get to the shower head, but once it was in my hand, I dropped back to my knees. My shins got a bit cold until I had the water temperature adjusted, but then it was like every other shower - okay, perhaps a bit more awkward. I turned the water off and started to soap my hair and body.

Following Anne's order, I inserted a soapy finger into my pussy and moved it around. This, of course, made me horny, and it took all of my willpower to stop fondling myself. Instead, I turned the water up again, this time a half turn more of the cold. Not really freezing, but not comfortable either. Once my hair and skin were free of soap, I turned the shower head to massage mode, one single, hard jet of water, and pointed it between my legs with one hand while opening my sex with the other. It was almost painful, but I forced myself to count down from ten before turning off the water and crawling out of the stall.

Anne was already waiting for me, a towel in hand, and ordered me to stand up straight, with my arms extended to the sides. She toweled me dry, a new experience. This was sensuous, intimate. She dried every inch of my skin thoroughly, starting from my hair, even my ears, then my arms and down my back, through the crack of my bum and down my legs. When she turned me over, she even dried my face with a corner of the towel, and it was a lover's caress.

She lingered longer than necessary over my breasts, and when she rubbed my pussy even longer, instead of it getting dry, the opposite was happening. She even had me lift my feet and toweled between my toes, which tickled like hell, but I bit my lip and managed not to pull away.

She proclaimed her work finished, and I dropped back on my knees. Without a word, she turned and walked back to the table. I hastened to keep up with her on all fours. She snatched the writing pad and went over to the couch, flopping down in the middle, and like an obedient puppy, I knelt next to her.

She patted her lap. "Jump up and lay here, with your back across my thighs."

I did that, and it wasn't really comfortable, with just my back resting on her thighs and my bum and my head in the air. It got even more uncomfortable when she ordered me to spread my legs as far as the couch allowed and to stretch my arms over my head.

"Are you comfortable, little one?"

That endearment was new, and for a moment I felt compelled to lie to her. But I answered truthfully, "No, Mistress Summers."

"Good." She paused, perhaps to let it sink in. Somehow, she had become an enigma to me. While I had known her as a reliable, funny person under all her flightiness, she was now a mixture of loving tenderness and cruelty. But my thoughts didn't have long to stray.

"It's not meant to be comfortable. I want you accessible, in case I want to play with your tits or your pussy. And it's meant to make you more sensitive." A fingernail trailed over my stomach, slightly scratching my taut skin, which made my muscles twitch uncontrollably. My breath quickened and I had to fight the urge to squirm.

"See what I mean?"

"Yes, I do, Mistress Summers."

"Good. Then let's start going over your new house rules."

And go over the rules she did. It was a whole page, in her neat, small script. As she had hinted, she did play with my body while she read the rules, stroking me, pinching me, even sticking a finger up my pussy and having me suck it clean again. She pulled on my pubic hair until I squirmed, only to softly caress my nipples a minute later. Pleasure and pain, both in equal measures, until I was nothing more than a boneless heap of arousal once she was finished reading the rules. Of which I could only remember the first. 'I will always follow all of my Mistress' rules and orders, instantly and without hesitation.'

Of course she quizzed me about it, and I failed spectacularly.

For a moment, I feared that she'd be angry, but the knowing look in her eyes told me that I had performed as expected.




A Bunny to Play With Ch. 02



"I want you to memorize them before this evening," she told me, "and I'll quiz you again to make sure you have. Make sure to also memorize their number, I'll ask them out of order."

I gulped. The list was quite long. But on the other hand, I've had to memorize before for my courses and always scored well. So I said with some confidence "I will, Mistress Summers."

"Oh, I'm sure you will. I'll give you some incentive that will make sure of it. Get up on the floor and kneel on the other side of the table."

My back protested, as did my arms and legs, so I crawled rather slowly after I had managed to make it to the floor. But I managed, and I assumed what I had now privately dubbed 'the position'. Meanwhile, Anne had put the rule list in front of me and was now rummaging in her school bag. With a "gotcha!" she came back, her fist closed around whatever she had been looking for, and looked at me expectantly.

"You've got a choice. Do you want the incentive for your nipples or your pussy?" I must have looked a bit lost. I didn't have the slightest clue what the incentive was, so how should I decide on one or the other? But Anne got impatient. "Hurry up, we haven't got all day!"

"My pussy," I blubbered, hastily, before she could get really annoyed. "I choose my pussy Mistress Summers." That earned me a wide smile, and I was glad that I had pleased her. But not for long.

She ordered me to turn towards her, and when I did so, she opened her fist and showed me the two big, black binder clips she had hidden. They were at least three inches wide, those clips made from folded metal strips that closed on their own and could hold a hundred pages safely together, with two handles to squeeze them open. "Please, no!" I gasped, the color draining from my face, my hands instinctively covering my sex.

Anne clucked reproachfully. "Are you refusing an order?"

Her eyes seemed to burn holes through my head, and I could only keep up with her stare for a few seconds. Then I hung my head, put my hands back behind me and whispered, "No, Mistress Summers."

"I'll let it go this time. But this is the last time; in the future, refusal means punishment. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Mistress Summers." I seemed to say that phrase quite often, I noticed, while I watched Anne crouch down on one knee in front of me.

"Whatever happens, keep looking me in the eyes. And keep your wrists behind your back."

I nodded while I kept my eyes on hers, the trepidation about what she was going to do constricting my chest for a moment, and it seemed enough.

Her fingers nestled with my left pussy lip, stretching it out, running up and down its length. It felt good, and she took her time finding the right spot. She managed to make me almost forget about the clip, but just as I started to hump against my finger, cold metal wrapped around my lip and closed down on it with a snap.

It hurt, so much that it made my eyes mist up. But Anne, clearly enjoying the picture of my teary eyes and trembling lips, stroked my cheek and promised me that the worst of the pain would soon fade. She was right, too. After a minute, the sharp pain had turned into a dull throb, and the prospect of wearing them for a period of time did seem a bit more realistic.

Then it was the turn for the right pussy lip. She once more, and despite me expecting it, tricked me into forgetting about the clip by arousing me. It hurt just as much, perhaps more, because I now knew how long it took until the pain lessened.

"They will stay on until you have memorized the rules, each and every one of them." I had expected that, but one can always hope. "I'll go out for two hours, so that's the earliest you can get rid of the clips. And don't think I'll not know if you take them off in between. Once I'm back, you can ask me to quiz you, but only if you're sure you know the rules inside and out. Otherwise we'll have to add more incentives." She winked, and I gulped. "Questions?"

"No, Mistress Summers."

"Good, then start memorizing and don't mind me until I'm back."

So I turned towards the table and tried to suck the wording of the rules into my head, while Anne was bustling around behind me and got ready to go out. After some time the door opened and closed, and everything went quiet.

* * * *

Memorizing the rules was hard. I read them and re-read them, again and again. After maybe half an hour, I couldn't tell the time because the clock was directly behind me, the ache in my pussy lips got stronger, and I felt my concentration straying. I started to read the rules aloud, to keep my focus on the words, but I caught myself reading mechanically, without realizing exactly what I was reading, more and more often.

The rules themselves added their own part to my distraction. They were quite devilish.

I was to stay naked all the time inside our flat, unless we had visitors. I wasn't allowed to close the bathroom door. I wasn't even allowed to go to the loo without Anne's permission. I had to address her as Mistress Summers or Ma'am at all times, unless in the company of strangers. I was not allowed to be outside the flat without her permission.

I was not allowed my own money, only what she handed out to me, and to that extent she even required me to hand over my bank cards and pin numbers, together with the pin to my cellphone. This one made me doubt the whole thing, but then I read the small note she had scribbled next to it about a safeword and listing the pin to her small safe, realizing this was more about trust than anything, and it went both ways.

Any clothes I wore were to be selected by her. She was allowed to do with my body whatever she wished. And still things got more intense.

I wasn't allowed to masturbate without her permission, and even touching my pussy or tits other than for washing them was forbidden. Of course, cleaning the flat, doing the dishes and all those chores I had already been doing were also on my list, but now with the promise of punishment if I let anything slide.

All infractions of the rules had to be recorded by me in a special punishment book, which Anne would consult each evening to decide the nature and severity of my punishment. A schedule that she was free to change to her liking, of course.

I was not allowed to lie - which wouldn't be much of a problem for me - but I also wasn't allowed to omit or circumvent the truth. And finally, the most devious of rules: every time I heard the word 'bunny-ears' or when two fingers - the rules especially said 'anybody's two fingers', which made my skin tingle - drew a hash sign anywhere on my body, I had to answer the last question in the affirmative, anytime, anywhere, no matter who was there.

Those rules meant she owned me, almost without limits. And now that I had stopped struggling against those strange feelings inside me, reading one of them sent a dull, painful yearning through my pussy that had nothing to do with the binder clips. I was wet, incredibly so.

When Anne came back, the pain in my pussy lips was becoming hard to bear. Small tremors shook my lower body every few seconds, and when she opened the door, my bum must have been quite the sight, shaking like Jell-O. Still, I was concentrating like I had never before, and by this time I had not just the words memorized, but could see the whole rule sheet before my inner eyes, word for word, letter for letter.

I heard the rustling of paper bags behind me, then the clicking of her sandals approaching me. Her hands came to rest on my shoulders, and she bent over me. I recognized the dress she was wearing, white, with a wide collar and some blue patches; like a mix between a tennis dress and a sailor suit, it was quite stylish.

"Have you made progress, Bunnie?"

And with a huge smile, I answered "Yes, Ma'am, everything, word for word. Please quiz me."

Her eyes widened, and then narrowed. "Are you sure, absolutely sure? It's your last chance to change your mind. If you fail to answer a single question, you'll be back to memorizing, and the last two hours will seem like a walk in the park."

But I was confident, more confident than I had ever been in a quiz for school. And I let her know.

Soon, she was propped on the sofa, her naked feet resting on the table in front of me, and quizzing me on rules and numbers. And I answered every single one with a shaking voice and brightly flushed cheeks. It was exhausting, but over time, a proud giddiness gripped me.

Then Anne clapped, and I thought my cheeks would rupture, so wide was my grin.

"Well done, little one," she congratulated me, "I know that you're a quick learner, but I wouldn't have thought it possible that you could memorize them that fast."

"Thank you, Mistress Summers," I answered, even a little cheekily. "It's just a question of the right incentive."

That made her laugh. "Oh my, you're brilliant. But I'll remember that comment, and pray that it won't come back and bite you in your lovely bum. But you know what?" She studied me with a smile. "Because you were such a good girl with the memorizing, we're going out tonight."

"I'd like that, Ma'am."

"Oh, I know you will." That was a bit ominous, but I didn't want to get a headache about things that were hours in the future. "Drink some water, then join me on the bed."

And now that she said it, I realized that my mouth was quite dry, and I gladly crawled over to the kitchenette and poured myself a big glass of water which I gulped down without a break. Someone, somewhere, had commented that I was never to go near the Great Lakes, because I'd dry out Lake Michigan in a fortnight after seeing my drinking habits. My water drinking habits, that is, I've never been a big fan of alcohol, it made me dizzy and stupid. I grew up on a farm, that's where I had learned to drink much and quickly, just a question of necessity after a half day of climbing ladders, jumping into the hay and playing catch across the stubble fields.

With my thirst sated, I put the glass into the sink and crawled to Anne's bed. She had meanwhile changed into one of her large t-shirts, a white one that read 'slut tamer'. I had seen it before and found it a funny gag. Now, I looked at it with different eyes.

Anne grinned, aware of the thoughts running through my head. "C'mon," she ordered, "hop onto the bed. I've been running around all morning and my feet hurt. I need a foot massage."

So I climbed onto the bed at her feet and was just settling down and extending a hand towards her right foot, when she stopped me.

"I've changed my mind. What I need is a tongue bath."

I looked down at her feet that had been inside her sandals for hours and collected sweat and dust. It was gross.

But then I remembered rule number one - to follow every order, instantly and immediately. Heat rushed up my body and into my face. I dropped to my side and lifted her foot a bit. There was something incredibly dirty about the idea alone, and I stared at it for long moments, struggling with myself. And the longer I looked at her pretty feet, the faster my breaths became.

I licked the sole from heel to toes, hesitantly, afraid that this single act of submission might be too much for me. It tasted sweet and salty, and a bit stale, but after a second lick, I decided that I've had worse in fast food restaurants. A quick glance at Anne's face showed her head tilted back, her eyes closed and a smile on her lips. That was all the encouragement I needed, and I continued licking her soles with gusto.

Once I had finished with both, she told me to straddle her so I'd be better able to reach the upper side of her feet. This also had the advantage that she was able to play with my pussy, and play she did!

While I licked her feet, sucked on her toes and let my tongue roam between them, her fingers were busy rubbing my throbbing clit. She brought me to the brink of orgasm and held me there for minutes, only to back off and let me cool down before she started over. I was almost going crazy, but I focused on my task and worshipped her feet, like a good submissive should - even if my gasps, moans, and jerks made it hard to keep my tongue on its course.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, I was allowed to stop. My tongue felt dry and swollen, and my pussy and nipples ached with need, so intense that I didn't even realize that I was still wearing the clamps.

I lay down as ordered, and with Anne spooning me once more, I fell into an exhausted sleep.



A Bunny to Play With Ch. 03



I awoke with a groan and the dizzy feeling a daytime nap always brought with it. A sharp pain shot through my left nipple, but it thankfully vanished just as fast as it had come. Rubbing my eyes, I found myself lying on Anne's bed on my back, with her kneeling next to me, one hand on my left breast and a big smile on her face.

"Welcome back in the land of the living," she teased, and pinched my nipple again!

That made me gasp, but I guessed that I should answer her; so, still a bit groggy, I stammered, "Thank you, Mistress."

Then I tried to shift my legs a bit, which turned out as a really, really bad idea. The clamps on my pussy lips moved, and my sex became a well of hot agony. I shrieked, and instinctively moved my hands to cup it. Which was just as bad, if not worse, because I pressed on the clamps' small handles and re-ignited the pool of molten fire. And because I remembered rule thirteen. No touching my pussy. I pulled my hands away and put them to my sides. I was too late, the clucking of Anne's tongue against her gums told me she hadn't missed it either.

"Oh, Bunnie," she sighed and softly stroked my breast, "What shall I do with you? Things were going so well, and now it took you only a few seconds after waking up to earn your first punishment."

Her hand kept stroking my breast, running all over it, rubbing my nipple, while she knelt there with a pensive expression. It felt wonderful and even managed to distract me a bit from the ache between my legs. Then her other hand did the same with my right breast, and my breath quickened and my back arched to meet her soft hands. Small moans betrayed how pleasurable it felt to me, and I could feel my nipples try to tighten into needle tips. Again, just with simple touch, Anne managed to evoke feelings in me that I had never experienced before.

And again, she stopped, leaving me breathless and aroused.

"Please, An... Ma'am." I begged, and winced before I had finished the short sentence.

"That's number two. I'll have to get creative if you keep this up."

I closed my eyes, feeling some strange mixture of misery and excitement. "I'm sorry, Ma'am."

Maybe apologizing would make the punishment easier, but she instantly dissuaded me from that notion. She leaned forward until her face was just inches from mine, her long blonde hair tickling my cheek, and smiled innocently while telling me, "You will be, Bunnie, you most certainly will." And then she kissed me, a lover's kiss, and I parted my lips to allow her tongue to roam around my mouth, to rub against my own, soft and tasty. One hand came back to caress my breast, and I moaned into her mouth, sucked on her tongue and basked in the feeling of belonging that wrapped around me like a warm blanket.

Our lips parted with a wet, smacking sound, and she lay down next to me and propped her head on her hand with her elbow on the bed. "Do you know what I'd like to do?" she asked, her voice soft and loving, while her fingernails trailed in small circles over my stomach.

My heart started to beat faster when I answered, "No, Mistress Summers. What would you like to do?"

Her fingers were getting dangerously close to my sex, and I could hear a slight tremor in my own voice.

"I'd like to make you cry. You look so beautiful, so relaxed and contented right now with that sleepy expression in your eyes. But you're just as beautiful when your lips start to tremble, and the tears start to fill your eyes. I'd like to see you turn from one to the other. I want to play with your pussy clamps for a minute before I take them off. But only if you let me. Will you let me?"

Before I could even start to answer, she kissed me once more. Long, sensuous, melting me with her lips and tongue, and a voice in the back of my mind pointed out how insignificant a minute of pain was compared making Anne happy. And something else stirred inside me, a small part of me yearning for the pain.

When the kiss ended, I didn't hesitate a second. "Yes Ma'am, please do it!"

"Beg me," she whispered and let her tongue paint a wet trail from that sensitive spot right below my neck up to my chin.

"Please Mistress Summers," I whimpered. "Please play with my pussy clips, make them hurt, please make me cry!"

It was all the invitation she needed. Before I was able to take a breath, her hand had already found the implements of torture and was slowly stirring them. It hurt a lot, but now, with my arousal on such a level, I found that it was almost bearable. Until she started to pull. Not hard, but rhythmically, and enough to send stabs of pain through my labia. Her eyes, only a palm's width from my face, drank in every twitch and ripple, every gasp for breath. She was watching me with rapt fascination, the most beautiful expression I had ever seen on her face.

Then she started to twist the clamps, and all I could see were blurry outlines. First my lips, then my whole chin, started to tremble. My tears started to flow in earnest when she mixed both movement, pulling and twisting with considerable force. It felt like my pussy lips where mashed, almost torn off, and for a moment I considered begging her to stop, but then she started to whisper to me, telling me how beautiful I looked like this, how brave I was, how happy I made her.

And I cried and endured, for her.

It felt like ages of torment, but finally she stopped. The pain between my legs was bubbling like a pot of molten lava, yet for the last part of the torment, something new had mixed with the pain - a raw, throbbing feeling that came in waves and was, as incredible as it appeared to be, pleasurable.

Slowly, both feelings receded a bit, and my tears ebbed. I must have looked a mess, with all the tears and probably snot on my face, but Anne kissed me again. What shall I say - it didn't make it all good again, but I instantly felt loads better, like getting new batteries. And then I pictured myself bent over the chair, and Anne shoving a huge battery, that kind with the copper-coloured cap, up my bum before declaring me 'All done, ready to go again,' and I giggled into her mouth.

I guess I was a bit out of it at that moment.

She broke the kiss and shook her head in disbelief, before cupping my cheeks and declaring me a miracle.

"And you're an enigma."

We stared at each other, almost a minute, and then I saw the corner of her mouth twitch upwards, once, twice, and I couldn't help myself. I started to laugh, and she flopped down on me and joined me with little delay. For a short time, we were back to the two carefree best friends who had fun and found opportunities galore to laugh our asses off for no apparent reason. We were both shaking, and every time we calmed and looked at each other, one of us would start fresh bursts of laughter which were only interspersed with my small cries of pain when a particularly loud chuckle disturbed the clamps on my pussy.

At one point, I simply couldn't take it anymore. "Please, the clamps," I begged between bursts of laughter, "please, take them off Ma'am. Please."

She even looked a bit sheepish, but she stopped laughing, and that in turn enabled me to get myself under control as well.

"This is going to hurt like hell. Whatever you do, keep your feet and hands on the bed." Her voice was instantly back to the stern, commanding tone of my Mistress.

"Yes, Ma'am." I braced myself for the pain, but it was a lot worse than I had expected.

As if a hot knife was suddenly plunged into my pussy, all I could do was wail and arch my body. Fresh sweat broke out all across my skin, and it took ages until I was able to relax again. When I had gained back enough self control to settle my whole body back to the bed, I prayed that I'd never have to endure that pain again. Then Anne declared that I had only one more to go, and I almost balked, but I knew that the clamp had to come off, one way or another, and waiting would probably only result in more pain.

So I endured the same pain again, and it was just as bad.

But after a few minutes, everything had calmed down to a dull, throbbing ache, and after a quick look I found to my surprise that my fingernails, which I had buried in my palms, hadn't even drawn blood. A glance at my pussy lips showed me that they, despite being quite swollen and adorned with a small welt, seemed to have survived the ordeal without major injuries as well.

"Stay here," Anne ordered, but truth to be told, I couldn't have moved if had wanted to. I felt like an old towel, wet, wrung out, and slapped against a pillar a few times for good measure. When she came back, she had a bottle of some kind of medical lotion with her, which she spread thickly all over my tortured pussy. Her touch stung at first, but soon the lotion started to cool and numb my swollen flesh, and I sighed in appreciation.

All too soon, Anne was finished vetting me, and after capping the bottle, she looked deep into my eyes and handed me a shiny black book and a pen. Which had me wondering at first, but then I turned it and looked at the spine.

It read "Brittany's Punishment Book" embossed in fancy, golden letters. This was nice, it felt special to me - call me crazy, but that's what I felt, she had that book done specially for me, and she could just as well have made do with a simple checkered pad. So I opened it almost reverently and found that she had even added an inscription on the first page.

-

For my best friend and submissive, my Bunnie!

While I am writing this, I am wondering if the moment to give this book to you will ever come to pass. I have been dreaming of you almost since we moved in together, and the fire you have ignited in me is slowly eating away on me. You're so pretty and look so innocent that I have to fight myself each day not to touch you. I love the stubborn determination with which you do the things you have set your mind to. And I love the best friend that is always there for me, no matter what I do, and never judges me. 

And yet, to truly love you, I need to hurt you. It's the way I am, and I have found I can deny that side of me no more than I could stop breathing. I want to make love to you, and I want to hurt you. Pinch you, bite you, even whip you. I want to impress my marks of ownership on your body, and kiss them all better afterwards. I want to cherish you and protect you. I want to control you. I want to own you.

If you are reading this by accident, you'll probably already be already running away as fast as you can, and perhaps you are right. If I have given this book to you, then this is probably the last chance to stop and go back to how things used to be - even if I have to endure those knives stabbing through my heart each time I see you for the rest of my life.

I don't want you to have illusions, so I'll tell you right up what to expect. I am cruel. My arousal thrives on tears as much as on tenderness. I have years of self-restraint to make up for, so you will be punished for a long time just for ignoring me, both with pain and shame. I am promiscuous, I'll have other lovers beside you, and even lend you out to others, but I promise I will only ever love you. Last, I am a control freak, I want to influence every free moment of your day, so that your thoughts always revolve around me.

Never forget I love you, and will try my best to give you pleasure and ecstasy in equal amounts to the pain. I never want to see you ill or permanently damaged, and I swear to uphold and defend those limits.

If you turn the page and write down your first rule infraction, it will mean that you are mine. But if you close the book now and hand it back to me, we will act as if nothing out of the ordinary ever happened. No matter how you decide, I will always love you and be your best friend.

Your loving Mistress

Anne

Saturday, 14th of July 2012

-

Oh my god, I thought. It was so sweet, she had written this almost a year ago, been in love with me for all this time without letting on - my heart did tiny jumps, and I couldn't stop the tears from rolling down my cheeks. Sure, it was also meant to scare me, to make sure that I knew what I was getting into, but it didn't reveal a side of Anne that I hadn't already seen at least to some extent. I took my time, though. I went through everything that had happened since last evening in my mind, the pain and the pleasure, and took a close look at my feelings. While there were moments that were almost too intense, too painful, even almost too pleasurable, I felt that a deep-seated need inside me had been awakened which I would never again be able to bury.

I rubbed my eyes dry and chanced a quick glance at Anne. She was taut like a bowstring, biting her lower lip and nestling with her fingers. Perhaps I should let her simmer some more, I thought, but that would be her game, not mine. And so I flipped over the page and set the pen to the virgin paper, trying to write as neat as possible, and added the date at the upper right corner. Then I listed my infractions.

1. Addressing my Mistress too personally.

2. Touching my pussy without my Mistress' permission.

And, thinking over events after Anne had woken me up, I added:

3. Talking to my Mistress without the proper form of address.

Anne was watching my every move, and when I added the third offence, her eyebrow went up, and she studied me. Gone was her nervousness and tension, replaced once more by a look of calculating self-assuredness. I handed her the open book, on the palm of my trembling hand, my eyes looking downwards as a demure gesture. The moment had symbolism, filling the air like fog on a Canadian November morning. I tried to find something to say, something deep, but the words left me, and I simply whispered, "Yours, my Mistress."

She smiled, then snapped the book shut and placed it in our bookshelf - the one right next to the entrance - at eye level. I swallowed hard.

"Let's have something to eat. I brought scampi salad and white bread."

My stomach growled in answer, and we both had to giggle.

A while later, I found myself kneeling in front of her chair and wondering if anything Anne did wasn't planned three steps ahead. After she had eaten her fill, she had turned the chair towards me and put the plate on her lap. From there, she fed me with her fingers. Scampi, pieces of vegetables, lettuce leaves, everything had to be sucked and tongued from between her teasing fingers. After a few minutes I was a mess. My breasts were blotched with oil and vinegar and adorned with small pieces of onion, lettuce and what I guessed was either tomato or red peppers. A few crumbs of bread were also caught in the mess.

"Is this making you hot?" she wanted to know, and after some embarrassed introspection and discreet rubbing of my thighs against each other, I could only confirm it, feeling my cheeks blush.

All good things have to come to an end, and a little later I was doing the dishes - my breasts still carrying the signs of my meal. Anne had pointed out that I'd have to shower after cleaning anyway, so why waste the water? I was allowed to stand, and I relished those minutes where I was able to shake out my legs and straighten my back. After that, I cleaned first the bathroom, then our main room, dusting, wiping the shelves and finally sweeping the floor. It took quite some time, as I had to crawl from station to station, and the sweeping had to be done with the hand brush.

The time was made both easier and agonizing by Anne, because every half hour or so she ordered me to her and had me stand up, legs spread and fingers linked behind my head, to 'inspect my pussy'. Which was, of course, just another term for fondling me until I was almost coming. It took hardly a minute to get me there with my hyper-sensitive pussy lips, and as time went on, my arousal seemed to get stuck higher and higher, so it took only a few touches of her fingers to have me meowing and humping her hand like a cat in heat.

Cleaning gets tedious after a while by itself. Cleaning in an absolutely horny state is pure torture. I think there are more than a handful of spots that got cleaned at least twice because I couldn't for the life of me remember if I had already done them or not. I got distracted a lot by accidentally rubbing my crotch against furniture, by simply rubbing my thighs against each other when I was crawling around, and even by seeing phallic shaped household items - I wouldn't have guessed how many of them there are.

When I crawled to my spot next to Anne, who was lounging on the couch and doing whatever with her fingers on her internet tablet, I felt proud to have managed all my chores in time. It was still before six in the evening, enough time to get ready to go out. "All done, Mistress Summers!" I announced.

She looked up from the tablet and smiled. "Well done. I'll believe you today, but be aware that I'll do inspections from time to time, to keeping you from slacking off."

That dampened my pride a bit. But then, it was part of the game, to keep me humble. I could complain that I had been keeping everything tidy for almost four years, but that would earn me nothing. Well, a punishment perhaps. The small, warm tingle in the depth of my stomach at that thought was still a bit disconcerting.

We both drank a coke, and then Anne had a shower while I tidied up the couch, put away the magazines she had been perusing, washed our glasses and made her bed, still ruffled from earlier.

She didn't take long, and when she came back into the living room, again wrapped in towels and looking good enough to eat, she told me that it was my turn in the shower, but to leave the curtain open. When I crawled into the bathroom and climbed into the stall, she followed me and leaned against the wall with a big smile on her lips. I had to be careful not to spray her once I had the water flowing, and her watching eyes made me feel twice as naked and even more clumsy.

Soaping myself up in front of her watchful eyes was a delicious erotic torture. She insisted I spend a lot of time with my hands massaging the soap into my breasts, into the crack of my ass and between my legs - on the latter, I had to spend an inordinate amount of time, and she was adamant that one finger was not enough to spread the soap in my love channel.

Rinsing myself wasn't any easier. To make sure to wash off every last soap bubble, I had to keep the shower head set to massage mode and make sure not to leave out a single square inch of skin. I think I spent more than a half hour in the shower, and when I finally climbed out, I was once more almost quivering with need.

Again she toweled me dry, and I used every opportunity to press my sensitive parts against her towel-covered hands. Having my hair blow-dried while sitting still on the closed toilet was hard, and when she filed my nails - both fingers and toes - and painted them cherry red, not fidgeting became an almost impossible task. She even applied the matching lipstick and did my eyes with mascara, eyeliner and a dark red eyeshadow. Before I was allowed to look into to the mirror, she braided a small lock of hair on each side of my face and pinned the braids to the side of my head with equally cherry-red clips.

The girl looking back at me from the mirror was completely different from the plain old me I was used to.

I'm a practical girl, my makeup used to consist of transparent lip-gloss, mascara and perhaps a bit of rouge. The last time my fingernails had seen anything besides transparent nail hardener had been a few years ago at a costume party. The small braids added some elegance to my plain but practical hairstyle, and the eyeshadow - even if it was a bit much- gave some depth to my oval face.

Giddy from discovering that I didn't need to look like boring old me, I couldn't resist and twirled in front of the mirror, then puckered my lips Marilyn-style and blow a kiss at my reflection. We both giggled.




A Bunny to Play With Ch. 03



Anne wrapped her arm around me from behind, and I snuggled back against her. "You're so pretty, my Bunnie."

Her breath tickled my earlobe, and I whispered a heartfelt, "Thank you, Mistress."

"Wait a bit with thanking me. I've got some clothes for you, to make you even more pretty."

She went back into the living room, and I almost forgot to get down onto my hands and knees. A square black box, almost three feet in each direction, was already waiting for me on the coffee table. A nod allowed me to lift the lid, and when I did so, I gasped.

At the top was a pair of high-heels, the same red as my nails and lipstick, together with a huge assortment of shiny thin straps in the same color. I instantly recognized them as the shoes she had designed for her fashion class. I had never seen the finished product, but enough partial drawings of straps and heels to recognize them.

"But those..." I wanted to object, knowing that they should be kept as a memento to her college days, but a finger on my lips silenced me.

"I designed those for you to wear them. Only for you. Don't reject them."

So I carefully set them aside on the table and removed the layer of paper underneath. There I found a matching mini skirt and g-string. The skirt was made from some shiny synthetic material. Holding it in front of my hips, I noticed that it really deserved the name 'mini' - once worn, it would end less than a hand's width below my buttocks. It was shorter than anything - save my gym shorts - that I had ever worn, and with embarrassment I realized that I'd have to be really cautious when I was sitting down or moving quickly, unless I wanted to flash my private parts to the world.

"Go on," Anne nudged me, before I could voice any form of protest, "have a look at the blouse."

Blouse was a bit of an overstatement, I quickly found out. It was done in the same red color, with a low neckline and not long enough to cover my navel. The sleeves, on the contrary, were full length. There was a wide, heart-shaped cutout in the back that left little more than a finger width of material holding the fabric together, and smaller hearts on the shoulders. The front had a row of small, darker red and also heart-shaped gems running down in the middle.

"So, what do you think?"

I stared at Anne a bit shaken. I didn't want to offend her, but the whole ensemble just screamed...

"Slutty?" She asked, picking the words from my tongue and making me agree with a nod before I even was aware that I was doing so. That made her giggle. "Perfect. You're going to be quite embarrassed wearing it, won't you?"

"Y - yes, Ma'am." I had to concede the point.

"Then put them on, I want to see how you look."

"Mistress?" I asked tentatively, taking stock of the clothes laid out there.

"Yes?"

"There isn't a bra, Ma'am."

"Yes."

That was all she said on the topic, making it clear that this wasn't an oversight on her part. So I fumbled my way into the clothes, while she rummaged through her wardrobe for her own outfit and vanished into the bathroom.

I put on the g-string first - it was tiny, barely covering my pussy lips, and I had to pull the string in the back all the way into my ass crack to be able to pull the horizontal one up to my hips. It was followed by the skirt. Despite its flimsiness, it was more than I had worn the last close to twenty four hours. It didn't have a label inside, so had to look closely to determine which side was the front. There were a lot of tiny loops of fabric and what looked like push buttons sewn inside and which I could make neither heads nor tails of. Two zippers ran vertically down the sides. The small pocket next to each zipper finally helped me figure out front and back though.

The top was tight. Really, really tight. If I was trying it on in a shop, I'd probably ask to try the one two sizes bigger. Yet I put it on, and even though it stretched a bit, it ended shortly below my breasts, which were quite tightly enclosed and pressed together. I could see every tiny bump on my nipples through the fabric. The thought of going out like this was almost unbearably embarrassing!

My heart beat like mad when I started to put on the shoes. Once I took a closer look at them, I gasped. The heel had to be more than four inches, but that wasn't the most outstanding attribute. In the place where the strap across the toes was on a normal sandal, they featured an individual loop of leather for each toe. The rest of the straps across the instep were normal. But the most prominent feature was a horizontal steel bar from the heel to the sole, an inch above the tip of the heel, and adorned with a metal ring that had two smaller, oval rings on top. A stylized bunny!

I slipped on the left shoe and wiggled my toes into their loops. A wider strap ran up my heel and wrapped around my ankle, buckling at the back, and two vertical straps went up the front and back of my calves, ending in another horizontal one. They had small silvery protrusions every half inch or so, and the significance of the length of thin straps that came with the heels became clear to me. But before I started to try to attach them, I put on the second shoe.

When Anne left the bathroom, looking quite the elegant seductress in her green and gold Chinese dress and with her hair done up, I had gotten no further with the straps, and the one I had been fumbling with dropped to the floor.

"You look breathtaking, Mistress!"

She twirled around, big golden hoops with small, emerald green stones in their middle sparkling in the light, and grinned at me. "It's original Chinese, mum had it made for me on their holiday in Beijing.

"I love it!" I declared. Her lean figure was simply made for this style of dress.

"Still struggling with the leg straps?"

"Yes, I've got no idea how to tie them, Ma'am."

"Let me. Hop on the couch and lie on your back." She had them done in a minute on both legs, but they were her brainchild after all. She did pull them quite tight though, but a cautious complaint from me was brushed to the side. "Finished," she declared, "and you're allowed to walk now."

We both got up, and I took a few hesitant steps in my new - and first - pair of high heels. Walking in them went better than I had feared, but perhaps all the ballet training and sports in my youth did give me an advantage. The straps around my toes felt a bit strange, but they looked exciting. Those around my calves encased them rather tight, making me aware of every little movement in my legs while I walked. I felt quite sensuous.

"Let's go." Anne hurried.

"Let me just fetch my purse, Ma'am," I answered and walked towards the wardrobe.

"You don't need it. I've got everything we'll need in mine."

When we left the flat and Anne locked the door, I felt like she was locking away a part of my past at the same time.

She took my trembling hand in hers and led me down the hallway. What would our coeds say if they saw me like this? Any moment I expected one of the doors in the wall to open and a pair of eyes staring at me in shock. But, luckily, that didn't happen, and by the time we were outside in the parking lot the sun had begun to settle and I was able to enjoy the warm breeze and the colorful sky.

I hopped onto the passenger seat of Anne's old black pickup, and with her war cry of, "Let's hit the road, Bunnie!" we were off into the sunset.



A Bunny to Play With Ch. 04



* Author's Note: This chapter is one of fifteen in a novel. If you want to enjoy it fully, please start reading at the first chapter! *

"Let's hit the road, Bunnie!"

That war cry was so Anne, with her spontaneity and fable for the dramatic. For some unknown reason, I thought back to the moment the name 'Bunnie' had come about. It was actually a bit embarrassing.

I had been in the process of unpacking my things and stowing them away in the dorm room I had been assigned, when I came about a Mars bar in one of the side pockets of my travelling bag. It had been there for the whole 200 miles drive to the college, it was summer and mum's car didn't have air-conditioning. As was to be expected, it had already lost most of its original shape. But my stomach grumbled. It had been almost six hours since I had a bite to eat, and I simply couldn't resist.

Unwrapping the sweet mass of brown goo proved to be a challenge, but one I was eagerly facing. Spurred on by my stomach, I finally managed to get the wrapping removed on all but one side, and I even managed to stuff the whole thing - no chance in taking a bite, I could probably have pulled on a corner and moved to the other end of the room without tearing it - into my mouth with just a smudge of chocolate on my chin. That's when the door opened and this blonde, long-haired bundle of energy raced inside, turned towards me, extended her hand and said, "Hi, I'm Anne, your roommate!"

Unable to swallow the whole chocolate bar at once, I could only wave my hands, brown spots all over them, the wrapper sticking to my thumb, and try to answer: "Hi, I'm Brittany."

It's a wonder that she understood anything at all, with my mouth full to burst, but she just waved at me and sing-songed: "Hi, Bunnie, nice to meet you."

It took a lot of blushing, forceful swallowing and a big glass of water from the tap until I was in a state to clear up the mistake. But Anne kept insisting, despite my desperate pleas, that Bunnie was quite fine and fit me well, and that I needed not be shy about it. It stuck, and she even introduced me to her friends like that later on. Her friends called me Brittany or Bri to my face, but for Anne I stayed Bunnie, and I'm quite sure that, between them, I was Bunnie as well.

I chuckled at the thought.

"What's so funny?"

Thank god she didn't add 'Bunnie' to the end of the question, because that would have sent me off into a fit of laughter.

"Just thinking back to when we met and you named me Bunnie."

That made her chuckle as well, and then her right hand found its way to my thigh and began to softly stroke it. I let my knees fall outwards as much as possible and sighed dreamily.

"You looked so adorable when I stepped into the room, with all those chocolate stains and that panicked look in your eyes. Like a small child caught with the hand in the cookie jar." Her hand squeezed a little, eliciting a moan.

"Did - did you really think I said 'Bunnie'?" That was the first time that I asked that question, even though it had been in my head since that day.

"Oh sweetie," she giggled, "of course not. It was a spur of the moment thing. And then you blushed so cutely and pleaded so heartwarmingly that I couldn't help falling for you." Her fingers had begun to rub small circles on my naked thigh, moving closer and closer to the top of my leg and making my breathing grow strained. Then her hand left, and the overhead light on my side was switched on.

"Lift up the front of your skirt." How she was able to change her voice from dribbling honey to a harsh whiplash in the blink of an eye, I'll never understand. My glassy eyes went wide, and for a moment I hesitated, but then her fingernails started to drum a little rhythm of impatience on the middle console. I gripped the hem with trembling fingers and slowly pulled it upwards.

"Look between your legs."

I did, and drew in a sharp breath. The small triangle of the g-string clearly showed a dark spot of moisture in the center.

"You naughty girl," she admonished softly. "We can't have you running around with soaked panties, can we? Take them off, and put them on the console in front of you."

My heart was racing a mile a minute now. "Yes, Ma'am." The eroticism of the command left me tingling all over, and my voice was little more than a whisper. My shaking hands wiggled the string down my hips, and I had to move awkwardly to get the back string from between my bum cheeks. Getting it over my high heels proved to be another challenge, and I hit my knees twice on the console before I finally had it dangling between my hands. I slowly put it down on the console, where it lay like an arrow that pointed right at my crotch, screaming 'naughty, wet pussy in this direction!' Which was probably Anne's intent.

"I think we should air out that wet snatch of yours. Scoot your sweet bum to the edge of the seat, then put your heels up to the corners and pull up your skirt again."

"But - But what if someone looks inside?" It had grown dark outside, and the thought that anyone passing us might be able to see my exposed pussy filled me with mortification; the interior light would put me on display like a museum exhibit.

"Are you refusing an order?" For a second she took her eyes away from the road and looked intensely at me.

"Please don't make me, Mistress Summers," I begged in my most subservient voice.

"Do it. And make sure to enter a demerit into your punishment book. I hope you don't earn another one right away."

Reluctantly, I wiggled my bum forward until I could feel the seat edge below my, then awkwardly pulled up my legs and put the heels down on the seat to my sides. My pussy lips opened like the flowers of a petal and exposed rosy flesh, and I felt cool air tickle my moist inner lips.

"You have a beautiful pussy," Anne whispered. "Your thick outer lips make it look like a ripe plum. If I could do as I wanted, I'd never allow you to cover it again, so that everybody could see how beautiful my girl's pussy is."

Wild emotions ran through my chest at that declaration, the image so strong that my breath got stuck in my throat .

"Does the idea make you hot, little one?"

"Yes, Ma'am!" My answer was breathless.

"Good." She stopped the engine, which got me back into the present and made me notice that we were parked in the far corner of a parking lot in front of a building, old and square, much like a vacated factory building. Two spots shone against the grey wall next to an iron door, but that was the only light.

"What is this place?" I inquired.

"What is this place, what?"

Oh shit. That addressing her correctly thing was going to be my downfall. "What is this place, Ma'am?"

"You'll see." She grabbed her purse and got out of the car, then walked around. For a moment I was unsure if I should follow her example, but decided to stay put and wait for her order. It was the right thing to do.

She opened my door with a smile and let her eyes roam over my exposed body. "Good. Now step out of the car, turn around until you face it and kneel down."

This order had me at a loss, nevertheless I was glad to be able to free my legs from this awkward position. Putting up my legs like this would have been a strain in itself, but with the four inch plus heels, I had to tilt my feet forward as much as I could, and my knees and calves felt close to cramping. So when I sank down on my knees next to the passenger seat, a sigh of relief escaped my throat.

Which went dry when I saw her place my punishment book on the seat, together with a pen.

"We don't want to forget any offenses, Bunnie. Write down the recent ones."

It felt incredibly wild and kinky when I opened the book and started to write down my misdeeds, kneeling, naked under my skirt in a public parking space.

4. Hesitating when ordered to expose my pussy

Just when was writing the upstroke of the 'y', a finger slipped between my pussy lips, and I let out a short yelp and the pen scratched a jagged squiggle on the paper.

"Oh my," Anne whispered behind me while her finger started to rub up and down between my petals. "If you keep that up, we'll be here writing all night."

So I pulled myself together as much as I could and tried to focus exclusively on writing. Her finger was almost driving me mad, and my handwriting got quite jittery. But it was still legible, and I managed to finish the other two entries without any major mishaps.

5. Failing to address my Mistress correctly again

6. Making a smear in the punishment book

Letting out a relieved breath, I handed the book and pen back to Anne, who put it back into her purse. Then she ordered me to stand up but not turn around and encircled me with her arms. Where our bodies touched, small sparks seemed to jump to my skin and made me tingle. Then her hands softly stroked up and down my breasts and my knees felt like jelly.

"It's time for your first punishment."

Her voice was soft, and it took me a few seconds to realize what she had said. "Punishment?" I gasped. "Here? Now?"

"Of course, silly girl." Her fingers pinched my nipples through the fabric, and I arched my back. "A punishment is only really good if it happens close enough to the misdeed."

There was some sense in that. Not that it really mattered.

That's when Anne's devious side came through again. "I'll even let you choose your punishment. You can either have ten swats on your lovely bum right here in the parking lot. Or I can put the clamps on your pussy lips for an hour. Or, option three, I find two nice, small pebbles and we put one in each of your shoes, where they will also stay for an hour."

I shook my head while she talked, and my gasps grew louder with every option. I did so not want to feel the clamps again today; my pussy lips were still reddened and quite sensitive. And the pebbles sound like pure torture, with nothing sexual about it.

"Which is it," she urged me and pinched my nipples again, "quick, or I'll decide for you."

"The swats, Mistress, please, I'll take the swats."

"Somehow I figured you would say that." She giggled, and then her hands pressed softly down on my shoulders, letting me know what to do. I went back down onto my knees and leaned my upper body against the passenger seat.

"Hold up your skirt, and don't dare to move your hands once I start."

My movements were slow and hesitant, but after almost a minute I had done as she asked. My breasts rested against the corner of the passenger seat, and my trembling fingers held up my skirt at my back and exposed my bare bum to the crisp night air. Anne's fingers rubbed small circles on my bum, and my cheeks quivered in anticipation and fear at each touch.

"You should probably try not to scream," she told me, "unless you want to attract spectators. You can cry though, the makeup is waterproof."

And then her hand crashed down on my bum, hard. The sound of the slap echoed around the parking lot like a gunshot, the searing heat seemed to cut through the center of my right bum cheek, and all intentions of keeping quiet were driven out of my mind with that single, forceful swat. And before I could gather my wits, it was followed by another to my left cheek. And then the right again. The slaps fell like machine gun fire, only a second apart, alternating sides, and my poor bum felt like it was sitting on a melting furnace. Every impact rocked me forward and smashed my breasts against the seat. I cried and writhed, but the punishment was so fast and intense that it had finished before I could even think about covering my backside.

Composing myself again took a few minutes, and when Anne pulled me upright I was still sniveling quietly. She pressed my body against hers and encircled me with her arms from behind.

"Did you like the punishment?"

"No, Mistress," I choked out, "it hurt."

"Good," she said and nibbled on my earlobe, "Where would the sense in punishing you be otherwise? Now let's go." She twirled me around and gave my still bared bum a soft swat, which nevertheless drew a short yelp from my lips. "We've taken enough time with that first lesson of yours. Walk over to the entrance and wait for me."

I took a few uncertain steps. Walking on high heels with a freshly spanked backside was quite the experience, each step moving my cheeks against each other and sending waves heat through them, contrasting the feel of the cool air around me. I looked back over my shoulder. "Mistress?"

"Yes, Bunnie?"

"May I cover my bum now, Mistress?"

"No, you may not."

Tingles raced up and down my body. I had to breath hard, but then I walked, a little wobbly and with a strange, weightless feeling in the pit of my stomach, across the parking lot and into the range of the spots, my skirt pulled up and exposing my reddened bum, my face surely matching the color. Every second, I expected to hear the sound of footsteps behind me or the voices of strangers from the dark parking lot.

* * * *

Once Anne opened the door, the silence was broken and the deep rumbling of base speakers rolled around me. "Whatever happens, keep the hem lifted," Anne told me - this 'whatever happens' appeared to become a recurring thing - and I traipsed in after her, self-conscious to the brink. She led me down a concrete stairway, around a u-bend and down another one, and when we turned a corner again, we were standing in front of a huge entry, framed by a counter and topped with a glaring pink neon sign saying "Wild Sapphire". I could make out blazing disco lights inside and smelled artificial fog.

Anne started speaking, and I almost let go of my skirt when I noticed the woman standing at the counter. She looked to be in her early thirties and wore a biker-style black leather jacket with all those buckles and rings. Her hair was fire engine red and cropped short, and her face and ears were adorned by numerous metal rings and studs. She looked mean, but without all the metal, her face would probably be quite pleasant.

"...to see you here again, you haven't shown your face around in quite some time." The redhead was saying to Anne, and I was thanking god that she couldn't see my back. "You're paying for both of you?"

Anne nodded and pulled a few bills from her purse, handing them to the woman. "Yep, both of us, regular fee."

"Too bad, I had hopes you'd go for the special. What's the name of little red riding hood?" The woman pressed a stamp to the back on Anne's hand while staring at me intently.

"That's Bunnie," Anne explained, "my roommate."

I fidgeted a bit, as the look the woman was sending me was quite intense, and I felt as if she was undressing me with her eyes - a look I had only experienced from boys before. But something stopped me from looking away.

"You know the drill, Annie," the woman said, "I'll have to look into your purse to check for foreign drinks and such."

"If course, Lucy", my friend complied, lifting her purse onto the counter and opening it, and after a cursory glance, the woman nodded.

Then things got crazy, because the woman asked me to give her my hand for the stamp. And I was torn. Of course I needed to let her give me the admission stamp, but then, Anne's words - whatever happens - raced around my head, and I just stood there, my mouth opening and closing like a fish's, my cheeks flushed a bright red, and my chest heaving.

"What's she got behind her back?" The woman, Lucy, wanted to know, and her lips grew tighter. Her fingernails started to drum an impatient rhythm on the counter. "Got anything to hide, Bunnie?"

"N - no, Lucy", I managed to stammer, but that was, of course, not achieving anything. But Anne came to my rescue. Sort of.

"You see, Lucy," she told the woman, "she's in a bit of a conundrum." Then she turned to me, and her fingers softly stroked up and down my back, giving me goosebumps. "Why don't you go around the counter, Bunnie, show my friend Lucy that you don't have anything hidden behind your back, and let her give you the stamp."

My eyes got wide and my body stiffened. Lucy would see my naked, reddened bum if I did that! But before I could formulate a response, Anne's lips were close to my ear and whispering: "Think of rule number one, love."

I trembled and my breath hitched, but a strange heat accompanied the spike of terror. I took a deep breath and slowly went around the counter, until I stood right in front of Lucy. Her legs were wrapped in the same black leather, quite tight and showing off her lean, muscled figure. Her eyes bore into mine. Her index finger made a circling motion. I turned around, slowly, feeling her gaze like a laser beam on my skin. When I had completed the pirouette, my legs were trembling. And Lucy bent her head back and laughed, loud and throaty, and I prayed for a hole to open up and swallow me.

"My, my, my. Someone has been a bad Bunnie, quite obviously."

I had to turn 180 degrees again, finally received my stamp, and with a slap to my bum that was no less mortifying than displaying my spanked bottom had been in the first place, I was told to scuttle along and wished much fun.

Anne pulled me through the entry, still a bit in a trance, and through the throngs of dancing people to the back of the disco. At the first look, it was like any other disco, noisy, packed with people, the lights bright and colorful, but something felt different.

Somewhere along the way, I had let go of my skirt, with all the pulling on my elbow and twisting around dancers. Finally we arrived at the back, where Anne spotted a free table. We both climbed onto the bar stools, and I took my time to look around. The area was huge. The walls, ceiling and floor were painted black, and the only other materials appeared to be chrome and black leather. Though with the numerous laser beams and sparkling lights, it was not apparent at a first glance.

Then I suddenly realized what was different. All the guests were women, there wasn't a single boy or man.

"Oh!" I exclaimed, and probably looked quite silly in my moment of epiphany.



A Bunny to Play With Ch. 05



The crowd in the club was all made up of girls! I traipsed dizzily behind Anne, looking around with wide eyes and letting her guide me towards one of the round cocktail tables, where we hopped onto bar stools.

She saw my surprised stares and giggled. "Took you long enough to notice."

I pouted. "Everything's happening so fast. How is a poor little country girl like me supposed to take it in all at once?"

I made a gesture of desperation, and Anne caught my hand in the air. She pulled it to her face and gave my palm a soft kiss. "Don't you ever change, Bunnie."

Right at that moment, a blond woman in a black mini dress came to our table, the tell-tale huge money purse identifying her as a waitress, and smiled sweetly at us. "Anything I can bring for you two lovebirds?"

"A Gin Tonic for me please," Anne ordered while she caressed the back of my hand with her thumb, "but please make sure it's not too heavy, I've still got to drive. And a Malibu Cherry for my little pet here."

My cheeks went up in flames and I lowered my eyes.

The waitress raised an eyebrow and put down our order on her small pad, a small grin playing over her lips. She was tall and quite good looking, with a narrow face with high cheekbones and huge, silvery-grey eyes. "I think I've seen you around here," she addressed Anne, "but not your, ehm, pet. Anything symbolic about the cherry?"

My... girlfriend - I decided after a small mental discussion with myself that I could think about her in that term - let go of my hand and giggled again. "You could say that. Isn't she just the sweetest little cherry, and I'll not get started about cherries that have recently been plucked?"

"Recently?" Her question sounded a bit distracted. I could feel her eyes roam up and down my body. "That sounds intriguing. May I ask how recently?"

"Last night, and today."

I bit my lip and covered my mouth, my eyes wide, unable to believe that Anne was discussing our sexual life with a stranger! Though it only happened with innuendo, the facts were quite clear, and I looked down at the table.

"Oh my. And she's a shy one, too, really adorable." From the corner of my eyes, I watched her step closer to my girlfriend. "I wonder if you were gentle. After all, one could easily damage a cherry if one was too rough."

"Gentle?" Anne chuckled, looking deeply into the waitress' eyes. "If a cherry is ripe for the picking, I rather give her a good yank before the birds can catch her. Catch it, I mean. And it doesn't hurt to soften the cherry up a bit so it simply melts in your mouth, don't you think?"

"Ah, I see."

She stepped even closer to my Anne, and I thought their legs were touching. She was flirting with my girlfriend, and my girlfriend with her! A wave of jealousy took away my breath.

"I like that kind of thinking. And I'm also quite fond of picking cherries. You wouldn't mind sharing some time?" Her hand was now softly trailing up Anne's thigh, who even parted her legs slightly in invitation.

"I don't share lightly," my girlfriend replied with her eyelids half closed, "but I might make an exception for you. Do you want to have a taste?"

"Mmhm," the waitress sighed, "that would probably make my day."

"Go ahead."

I didn't have time to react, even though my mind was quite aware of what was happening. My heart beat like mad, and then soft, cool fingers lifted my chin and the woman's face was just an inch away from mine, her eyes filled with lust, her lips pursed and slightly parted. Her perfume, sweet and lemony, filled my nose.

Yesterday had been my first kiss with a girl, and now I was already about to experience another girl's lips on mine. The thought hadn't completely finished when it happened. At first I pressed my lips together and tried to resist. This was crazy, so far from everything I was used to. But the lips were relentless, nibbling and pushing, and then her hand came to rest on my thigh and slowly crawled upwards.

I couldn't hold back a moan, and she quickly seized the opportunity and her moist tongue invaded my mouth and twirled around my own. Her fingertips encountered my bare pussy lips and she pulled away for a second to whisper, "Oh my, what naughty cherry you are!" Then her mouth was back, even hungrier than before, and her other hand touched the back of my head and mashed our lips together.

Feelings tore into all directions inside me, the intensity and sensuousness of her touch warring with my inhibitions and embarrassment. Her fingers lightly stroked my pussy lips and I sighed into her open mouth, my body melting under her ministrations and almost sliding from the bar stool. She released me at that moment, leaving me with flaming cheeks and a heaving chest.

"She tastes sweet," she purred, looking at Anne again, "and she's so juicy. I'd love to do some plucking myself. By the way, I'm Kirsten."

She held out her hand to Anne, who took it and pulled her close, looked deeply into her eyes and, after a few seconds, gave her a kiss of her own. The jealous beast inside my heart once more raged in frustration, but I couldn't tear my eyes away. It looked incredibly sexy, my lover's lips meeting Kirsten's and both of them struggling for dominance, their hands instantly all over each other.

When they pulled apart, they were both flushed. They whispered to each other, too low for me to make out, giggling and chuckling as they did.

It's strange, how you can feel immersed into a scene one moment and feel like a total outsider in the next. Maybe it's just me who can switch between extremes this quickly, but that how it was right then.

Kirsten gave Anne a peck on the lips and was off, and I was alone with my girlfriend again - as alone as you can be in a club filled with people - and my brain tried to catch up with events.

"That was fun!" She really meant it, and the lightness in her voice helped me put a bit of perspective to everything. "She looks good, doesn't she?"

I nodded, hesitantly. "She does, Mistress Summers."

She froze for a moment, but then she grinned and her face seemed to glow. Too late I realized my slip-up. "I - uh - oh..."

That drew a giggle from her. "Don't worry," she assured me, "nobody has heard that with the music blaring like that. I think it's cute." She bit her lip and tilted her head, getting that mischievous look I knew so well, and that suddenly made my knees weak. She was about to say something, but she took her time. "You know, it would probably be nice if you kept that up tonight."

"You mean - ugh," I started to feel a bit dizzy. Granted, there would hardly be anyone around who knew me, but there was a difference between calling her my Mistress in the privacy of our flat and doing so in the middle of a crowded club. But her eyes were so hopeful, and something fluttered quite pleasantly in my chest at the thought. "Of course, if that is what you like, Mistress Summers."

A hand reached around me from behind and placed a glass on the table, and a soft voice whispered into my ear, "How kinky!"

All color drained from my face, but then I realized that it had to be Kirsten, and that Anne had probably timed things so she would overhear me. Nevertheless, it worked as intended, and I felt a kind of exposure that no clothes could cover up.

"There you are," she put down the Gin Tonic in front of Anne, "Gin Tonic, not too strong, and a nice sweet Malibu Cherry."

"Thanks," Anne chimed, and with a look at me added, "don't you think you should thank the nice lady too, both for getting you your drink and that nice kiss, bunny-ears?"

There it was, my catchword, for the first time. And by the way she had put emphasis on the "nice lady" she didn't imply just a mumbled "Thank you."

I took a deep breath and tried not to look into Kirsten's eyes. "Thank you for bringing me my drink, Ma'am, and thank you very much for the sweet kiss you gave me."

Something flickered in her eyes, something dark, almost intimidating, but exciting. Yet, a moment later she grinned widely. "You're welcome, little cherry. I'm sure you'll find the opportunity to express your gratitude."

Her line left me wondering, but I had little time to worry about it, because she was off again and Anne told me to take a sip and tell her how the drink tasted.

The sweetness that hit me when I took a sip through the straw almost made my taste buds cringe. "Yuck!" I exclaimed. "My teeth are going to stick together!" The aftertaste wasn't unpleasant, though.

"Come on, drink up," Anne urged, "I want to party!"

"Please, give me some time, you know what booze does to me. It'll go straight into my brain!"

"But that's the thought behind it, you could do with a little loosening up."

Looking over and seeing that Anne had already finished her drink in one go, I gave a resigned sigh and sucked on the straw. The alcohol did hit my brain immediately, and I felt that sweet rush of lightness settle over me like a blanket, the moment I put down the glass. Yeah, I know I'm a lightweight, give me a glass of sparkling wine and I'll be babbling nonsense in a minute.

"Come on, let's dance!" I was pulled from the bar stool and onto the dance floor without being asked for my opinion. I didn't consider myself much of a dancer, and when Anne had been able to drag me into a club before, I had always tried my best to keep on the sidelines and rather watch others.

Anne was all hyped up and immediately began wiggling and turning to the rhythm, which was quite fast paced and groovy, and she pulled me with her, spinning me around. I felt rather clumsy as I tried to mimic her movements and follow her directions, but when my body heated up, I soon forgot all about my reservations and started to enjoy it. The blinking of the lights made it hard to keep my bearings, and I felt a bit like floating in glittering colors. We were twirling and laughing and spinning each other around, immersed in a sea of people.

In a lucid moment, I became aware that all the spinning probably showed off a lot more of my legs than decent. Perhaps it was the knowledge that there were only females around, perhaps Anne had unlocked something in me that didn't care about decency, but I didn't experience the embarrassment I should have and, a week before, would have.

The music changed to a slow R&B number and Anne pulled me backwards to her, wrapped her arms around me and started to sway her hips. I followed her movement, feeling her pelvis rub pleasantly against my bum and her breasts brush teasingly against my back. She rested her chin on my shoulder, and I forgot all about the people around us, revelling in the closeness of her embrace.

A punkish girl danced up to us. She looked barely over eighteen and had the most outrageous haircut I had ever seen, shorn bald on the left side but long on top and the right side, her hair dyed fiery red with bright, yellow highlights and white tips. Her body, sans her arms, was sheathed in a skin-tight wrap of bright yellow, shiny latex. A kind of catsuit, I realized. Her feet were stuck in incredibly high platform boots in the same color, and all the buttons and seams were done in dark red. It looked like some kind of crazy space uniform. Her bare arms were covered with tattoos, too fine to make out anything in the dizzying lights. But the most glaring thing about her were her nipples and pussy lips, plainly recognizable under the thin layer of rubbery material.

"Howdy Anne," she shouted over the throbbing music, "who's this pretty flower in your arms staring at my pussy? I don't think I've seen her around you before."

"That's Bunnie, my roommate," Anne shouted back, never stopping our wiggling dance, "and my new pet."

Thank god my skin was already hot from the dancing, so nobody would recognize the blush in my face.

"She's a cutie! You going to play with her too?"

"Not today, but I might. I'll give you a call if I do!"

"That would be great!"

Suddenly, the yellow-red girl's body was pressing against mine, and I stiffened. She was quite a bit taller than me in her heels, so her firm, round breasts were at my chin level. But she just gave Anne a quick peck on her lips and was already dancing away again.

"What do you think?" My girlfriend asked into my ear, "she's quite the looker, isn't she?"

"Ehm, yeah," I had to agree, "but she seems a bit crazy, Mistress."

That drew a chuckle from her. "Crazy isn't enough of a word to describe her. I'll have to bring you around to her place sometime soon, you'll get a completely new definition of crazy then."

"I'm not sure..."

"Oh, but I am." She picked up her dancing in earnest again, and I followed her lead, soon again losing myself in the moment.

After a bit of time, Anne's hands started to roam over my frontside, and at first I didn't really think about it, just rocking and twisting with her and enjoying the sensation of fingers brushing over my breasts and stomach and stroking my thighs. My movements got more passionate, the heat between my legs steadily rising. I got daring and sneaked my arms around my girlfriend's sides, grabbing her firm buttocks.

A small, pleasurable shudder ran through my body. I had just crossed a line and touched her back. Holding my breath, fearing for a moment that she might admonish me, I was instead rewarded with teeth nibbling on the sensitive skin between my shoulders and neck. I arched my back and melted into her touch.

"I want to make you come," she whispered, her breath tickling my ear, "right here on the dance floor, so that everyone can watch. Do you want me to?"

For a moment I thought about declining. Then a finger trailed over my pussy lip and lit up sparks, robbing me of all conscious thought. "Yes, yes please, Mistress!" I gasped more than spoke the words.

The sparks intensified with each touch of her fingers.

"Pull up your skirt!"

My heart almost stopped. Pull up my skirt and expose my pussy, right here, in the middle of the club? But my fingers were already busy, and a second later the air brushed against my moist labia. I didn't dare to open my eyes, surely everyone would be staring at my lewd behaviour!

But all that thoughts were swept away when greedy fingers delved into my slick folds. My hips bucked and I couldn't hold my desires back. Two digits slid into me at once, the other hand pulling apart my labia and showing off my pink secret to the world. I moaned and gyrated my hips, eager to impale myself deeper on the fingers, to feel more of that wonderful touch inside me. Other fingers twirled both of my nipples, and I bent my head back and started to tremble. A ball of fire was building up between my legs, yearning to be released.

Other fingers? My eyes flew open. The first thing I recognized was yellow-red, right in front of me, her arm extended and her fingers pinching my left nipple through the thin fabric of my top. To her side stood Kirsten, who was fondling my other breast with one hand and nestling with something on my top, right between my breasts, with the other. She was opening the buttons!

Then cool air hit my tits! But a moment later the fingers returned, now skin on skin, and pinched and pulled. Anne's thumbnail flicked over my clit. Together with my momentary mortification, this was all that the spark the ball of heat between my legs needed, and I exploded in gasps and moans, my skin set ablaze by a powerful climax that stripped me of all strength. My knees buckled, and it was only the three girls' hands that held me upright, their fingers clamping roughly around the parts of my body they had been fondling, intensifying and extending the waves of pleasure as they did so.

Gasping and trembling, I hung between them, as good as naked and covered with sweat and, in the case of my thighs, something else. Daring a look around, I quickly lowered my eyes to the floor when the circle of girls that had formed around us started to clap.

"Oh my god," I whispered, the enormity only now sinking in.

"I think 'goddess' would be more appropriate," Anne giggled into my ear and almost undid my efforts to hold up my weight with my own legs by nibbling on my earlobe.

The other two girls' fingers left my breasts, and I let myself be led from the dancefloor and into a secluded booth in the corner by my girlfriend, not caring about my bare boobies still showing, and not looking back if the two of them were following us. I plopped down on the comfy bench and sighed deeply, a mix of emotions playing havoc with my ability to think.

I was jostled to the side by yellow-red who was pulling at her latex suit. "Gosh, this thing is hot like a sauna."

My girlfriend sat down on my other side and giggled. "Anyone could have told you that."

"I know," she sighed, "and it isn't as if this is the first time I'm wearing it."

"So stop complaining!"

"Hey, a girl needs to have something to complain about!"

"Here, ladies!" Kirsten also arrived, carrying three bottles of water and a small cola for herself.

I didn't wait for the others and quickly snatched one for myself, gulping down the contents in one go. "Ouch," I groaned when my stomach rebelled against the onslaught of cold liquid, and I started to rub it furiously, but the pain quickly vanished and I felt instantly energized. "Oh yes, that's good!"

That drew forth some giggling around me, which went even louder at me inquiring look.

"Oh Bunnie!" Anne mock sighed, the grin never completely leaving her lips. "Ouch, that's good! If that aren't the famous last words of a masochist, I don't know!"

The girls around me dissolved into laughter while I blushed and felt torn between being embarrassed and joining in. There was, after all, some rather obvious truth to it, even if only my girlfriend was aware of it.

Kirsten was the first to sober up again. "So what have you two planned for the rest of the night?"

"I'm not sure," Anne confessed, "the evening's going in a totally different direction than I had planned. I was only going to tease Bunnie here for a bit, but when you showed up at our table, things went off on their own. Now I'm seriously considering an upgrade."

"Oh goodie, can I be there?" Now that she didn't have to shout, the yellow-red girl had a nice, melodic voice that fit the impression I had of her age.

"Upgrade?" I asked at the same time, not knowing what they were talking about, but remembering that Lucy had said something along those lines when we entered.

Anne put an arm around my shoulder and pulled me close to her, putting a small kiss on my forehead that made me smile. "You'll find out soon enough. What about you, Kirsten, can you come downstairs too?"

I could see excitement in the waitress' eyes. "Normally not, but we're over-staffed anyway tonight, the other girls will be glad if I take off early."

"Good," my girlfriend declared, "how about we meet up in the lounge then?"

"Okies! I can't wait!" Yellow-red proclaimed, and Kirsten excused herself and told us it would take about ten minutes for her to finish up and get changed.

"Mistress Summers," I asked, and tried to sound respectful. "Can you tell me at least a bit about what this upgrade is about? I mean," I hastily added, "I don't want to pry, but I think it's something, uhm, sexual, but I'm a bit worried. It's all so much."

And it was much. Yesterday at this time I had been a normal college girl, dreaming of a handsome bloke - well, some kinky dreams mixed in, but who doesn't have a few of those too - and letting myself get talked into a harebrained scheme to seduce said bloke. Then she had turned that scheme around on me and somehow made me her willing sex slave, given me the most intense orgasms I had ever had and exposed me to strangers on a dance floor. If that tempo kept up, I had no idea where this could end.

"Oh Bunnie!" she sighed again, studying my face for a few seconds, then she kissed me. With a deep and hungry kiss, one that made me swoon and took my breath away. Her lips were simply delicious on mine, and my tongue yielded to hers.




A Bunny to Play With Ch. 05



"I don't want to tell you ahead of time, that would take away half the fun. But I'm quite sure you'll like it." Her fingers brushed my cheek. "But if you don't, would that be a problem?"

I bit my lip. This seemed to become a regular gesture for me. "No, Mistress Summers."

"But while we're at it, let's get another of your punishments out of the way, otherwise we'll never them done tonight."

I gasped. "Tonight? While we're here?"

"Of course, what did you think, silly?"

"I - I didn't..." My voice trailed off.

"I've brought along everything we need," she told me with that wicked smile of hers, "why don't you seat your pretty bum on the table in front of me?"

It wasn't an order, so I complied, not looking around to see if anybody noticed us, and put my feet on the bench at either side of her. Meanwhile, Anne dug through her purse and pulled out four of the devilish paper clips she had used on me. She pushed them open a few times while I seated myself awkwardly in front of her.

"This way, we can get two punishments out of the way at once. Can you tell me where they will go."

I studied the implements of my punishment with some trepidation and swallowed. She watched me intently. "My - my pussy lips," I finally stammered, "and my nipples."

"Right in one. You can tweak your nipples to get them hard while I put the other two on." She lifted my skirt and pushed my legs further apart so she had better access to my sensitive spots. This time she didn't take her time. As soon as she saw me pinch my own nipples, her fingers pulled out one of my labia and the clip snapped shut. My breath hissed and I clenched my jaw. A second later my other pussy lip got adorned as well, and I felt quite sorry for myself when the now familiar throbbing pain gripped my pussy.

"These won't be as bad," she soothed me when the third paperclip approach my nipple, which seemed to welcome the torturous thing, "or so I'm told."

Still, the sensation was new, and I couldn't hold back a small yelp when my nipple was clenched between the metal plates of the clip. The first bit of pain was sharp and seemed to cut deeply into my breast, but it quickly diminished and left just a throbbing, pulling sensation. Unless it was moved, I learned, when Anne gave it a few playful flicks with her finger to see if it would slip off. "Ow!" I complained, but only got back a wide smile.

Soon, my other nipple was adorned with its own clip. Buttoning up my top again was more than uncomfortable, and when I looked down, I could clearly see the outline of the clips through the fabric.

"Come on," Anne urged me, "let's get to Lucy so we're downstairs when Kirsten finishes."

It felt quite self-conscious, the shapes of the clips adorning my breasts like this, and I felt as if every pair of eyes was staring at my chest. But that was the easy part. Walking with paperclips on my pussy lips was really uncomfortable, but I now learned that wearing high heels at the same time made it even worse. The clips were rubbing against each other and pulling and pinching at my labia, making me wince with each clumsy step. The top pressed the clips flat against my boobies, which bent them downwards and pulled on my poor nipples. I had to pay attention not to move my upper body too much. In short, I was really, really uncomfortable, pulled after a merciless Anne towards the entrance.

Still, and any sane person would call me crazy, it felt erotic. I could stop this anytime, but some part of me revelled in the surrendering of power to my girlfriend.

I was relieved when we reached the counter and I could stand still. Those clips were doing a number on me, probably because my labia had already been tenderized by them today.

"Leaving already?" Lucy was sitting on a barstool and nursing a cola.

"No, I've changed my mind. I'll have the upgrade." Anne pulled her credit card from her purse and pushed it over the counter.

"Really? That's great." She pushed some buttons on her electronic cash register and slid the card through a slit on the side. "She's a first-timer, so she'll have to sign the form before I can give her the stamp." She handed Anne back her credit card and pushed a sheet and a pen towards me.

Anne quickly snatched it away and started to scribble, shielding it with her body. I felt a bit silly. Finally, she pushed it in front of me and handed me the pen. "No need to read it," she told me, "just sign at the bottom. I'll give you the gist of it when we go downstairs."

Lucy watched us with a mixture of concern and amusement on her face. "I really shouldn't allow that, you know," she admonished my girlfriend. "I'm to make sure that everybody reads it carefully before signing it."

"Oh, you know me, Lucy! Bunnie here would never dream of giving you problems, would you?"

I swallowed. "Of course not," I agreed with a meek smile, not really knowing what I was agreeing to. I signed with a flourish and pushed the sheet back to Lucy, only catching the title, 'Exemption of Liability and Declaration of Consent' in bold letters at the top. I had been right in my guesswork, but I wasn't any closer to really knowing what was going on.

Anne stretched out her arm and was awarded with different stamp, this one with an intricate drawing of a kneeling girl. I followed her example and received the same mark.

"Have fun, you two," Lucy waved at us while she filed away the sheet in a drawer behind her.

"We will," Anne answered for both of us, already dragging me back through the entrance, "I'm quite sure about that."



A Bunny to Play With Ch. 06



Anne pulled me towards a door at the back of the club that I somehow hadn't noticed earlier. It was big, black and lacking a handle. A woman in her forties, tall and broad shouldered, wearing a leather vest and black jeans, was leaning against the wall next to it. The short, cropped hair together with her outfit just screamed "dyke" at me, and the critical look on her face made her presence intimidating.

When she spotted my girlfriend, her face softened and she smiled. "Hi Anne, introducing a new pet to the dark side?"

"Hi Cass, you've got no idea!" She stepped closer to the woman and showed her stamp, and I hastily followed her example.

"It's been some time," the woman, Cass, said in a low voice. "I'd love to play that body of yours again." Her hands trailed over Anne's cheeks and down her body, stopping shortly at her breasts to give them a squeeze. I could see my girlfriend's body tremble for a second, and a strange, mesmerized look appeared on her face before she could pull herself together again.

"Perhaps another time," she answered just as quietly, "but tonight is all about my little Bunnie here." She pulled me close to her, and I could almost feel the woman's eyes roam up and down my body.

"Can I touch?" Cass' question seemed to be rhetorical, because a moment later her hand roamed over my body just like they had over Anne's. When her fingers encountered the hard bumps of the clamps, she smiled and gave them a little twist that made me scrunch my face and stifle a gasp.

"A naughty Bunnie, I see. How long have you had her?"

"Since yesterday. She's new to everything."

Cass' eyebrow went up. "Yesterday? And you take her downstairs? You're bold."

My girlfriend grinned and pulled me even closer to her. I thought she wanted to show off our closeness, but instead she whispered into my ear. "Pull up your skirt, bunny-ears, and keep smiling, whatever happens."

It seemed I could hardly spend five minutes here without being groped or shown off in some way. I hesitantly lifted the hem of my skirt up to my navel and exposed my clamped and sore pussy lips.

Cass wet her lips and stared at my private part, a wide smile on her face. "Such a pretty pussy," she gushed. "Such ripe outer lips; just made to be treated roughly. I bet they'd swell up nicely with a little flogging."

My head spun around to Anne, my eyes frightened and wide. "Hush," she soothed me, "nobody's going to flog your pussy right now." Two of her fingers touched the corners of my mouth and pushed them upwards.

I put a meek smile back on my face, but that quickly became a struggle. Cass had caught each of the small handles of the clips between two fingers and was now pulling them apart and away from my body. My lips parted, laying bare the insides of my slit to her sparkling eyes with breathtakingly intense intimacy. The pull was getting more and more painful, and both Cass and Anne were watching me with rapt attention. I forced the smile to stay put, but my lower lip started to tremble. The pain and embarrassment both churned between my legs, but I could smell my own treacherous arousal waft upwards. She pulled them even wider apart, sending a short stab of fierce pain through my pussy lips, and a small tear trickled over my face.

Her fingers instantly let go of the paperclips, and I let out a relieved sigh.

"She's a gem," Cass told my girlfriend, "but you'll have to watch out for her. Everybody will want a piece of her, and she'll be easily snatched up."

Anne nodded. "I know, but there's no use in putting it off."

Cass pulled the hem of my skirt from between my fingers and let it fall down to cover my front side again. "Be careful, and have fun!"

"Thanks, Cass."

Anne jostled me lightly. "Thanks, Ma'am."

The door slid open and we entered what looked very much like a staircase hewn into the rock inside a cave. Fake torches lines the walls and gave off a flickering, reddish light. My nervousness peaked again, and I gripped Anne's hand tightly.

Walking with clamps on your pussy lips is uncomfortable; I had already become aware of that. But I quickly learned while we descended the steps, that walking down a flight of stairs is a lot worse. I had to grab the railing with my other hand for fear of losing my balance, because every step made me wince and my legs shake.

At the bottom of the stairs we encountered a huge wooden double door with the same motive which adorned our wrists inlaid in gold. Anne paused in front of it and turned to me. Her hand cupped my face and she looked at me with an unreadable expression. "Do you trust me?"

I nodded, wondering what was going to happen now, but quite sure that it would involve Kirsten, Yellow-red and maybe others. And that I would soon mimic the position of the woman in the logo.

"I want to hear you say it."

"I... I trust you, Mistress."

That made her smile. "Good. Take off your top, you won't need it inside."

I hesitated only a moment, then my fingers went to work, clumsy and trembling in high frequency. I pulled it over my head, careful not to tug on the clips on my nipples, and finally felt the air on my slightly sweaty upper body. Small goosebumps travelled over my skin and the beating of my heart grew into a mad drumroll.

My girlfriend and Mistress took the top from my hand, put it into her purse and pulled out something thin and red, some kind of leather strap. Her fingers stroked it, and she looked at me with a soft smile tugging at her lips.

"Before we go inside, you need to be collared, to show everyone that you belong to me and that they aren't allowed to snatch you. It's a symbol of my ownership of you." My eyes were on her lips while she talked, and when she said the word "ownership" these wonderful tingles danced over my skin again. She wrapped the leather strap around my neck and slowly tightened it, watching my face with rapt attention. Just when I thought the fit might become uncomfortable, she buckled it closed, but her hands stayed at the back of my neck and then her lips were on mine, kissing me greedily, her tongue pushing deeply into my mouth. I moaned into hers, swarms of butterflies rising and fluttering around in my stomach.

She broke the kiss far too quickly, but not before she bit into my lower lip and pulled on it, the small pain making me gasp and try to press my upper body against hers. She let me and whispered into my ear. "Do you have an idea about what's going to happen inside?"

I swallowed hard and cleared my throat. "It's going to be painful, isn't it, Mistress?"

"It is, but not more than you can bear."

"And embarrassing."

A small chuckle, like a wind-chime, rang from her. "Very. And you'll love it."

I shuddered. "There will be others."

"Yes. Many others. Perhaps I'll let them all touch you. Would you like that?"

My breathing started to get faster. "I... I don't know."

"Then we'll have to find out." She giggled again. "There are rules inside, and you need to follow them, otherwise I will have to punish you. Do you understand?"

I nodded, having expected such and hearing the excitement build in her voice.

"You're not allowed to speak unless ordered to. You're not allowed to refuse anything, requests or touches, from anybody. Let me make those decisions. Understood?"

"I... yes, Mistress." I looked deeply into her eyes, and my own arousal at the idea of being reduced to something akin to a slave in a public place, of giving up power over my body to her, was reflected with equal intensity.

"You need a safeword, though. You know what that is?"

"Dragon," I blurted without thinking. I did know the importance of a safeword from my late-evening forays into the World Wide Web.

Her smile lit up the room. "Good, then let's no longer dawdle. Remember, keep quiet and follow all orders."

I nodded, but then I took her arm and tugged softly. "Mistress?"

"Yes, Bunnie?"

"Will you stay with me at all times?"

"We'll see."

* * * * *

She pushed down the handle of the door and pulled it outwards. Soft, sensuous music spilled out, the lighting inside not any brighter. I followed her self-assured steps into a huge room with comfy looking leather chairs and benches grouped around low tables, everything done with a lot of chrome and almost black wood. A bar counter ran along part of one wall, the other had a stage.

My feet almost stumbled when I saw the people though. Women of all ages were lounging in the chairs or kneeling next to them, some in fine dresses, others in flimsy things or completely naked.

I tried to follow Anne's zig-zag course through the sea of tables, but something halfway across the room from me caught my eyes and I forget to walk. An Asian girl with long, flowing black hair and incredibly high cheekbones sat in one of the chairs, clad in something resembling a navy blue school uniform, only no school would condone such a short skirt. She was talking to a woman a few years older than her in the seat next to hers, absentmindedly pulled on a cigarette, one foot resting on the ground in a white sneaker. Her other leg dangled over the armrest, her footwear discarded on the floor, and there was what had instantly mesmerized me.

A woman, perhaps in her late forties or early fifties, wearing dark rimmed glasses and with her greying hair in a bun, knelt next to the chair. Her expensive looking black evening gown was bunched up around her back, exposing the white skin of her ample buttocks that was marred with thin, bright red welts. The older woman's lips were wrapped around the beautiful Asian's toes, and her face was a picture of pure rapture as she sucked and licked on them.

My breath hissed over my lips, and I could have stood here and stared at the lewd vision of what appeared like a schoolgirl enslaving her teacher for ages. The contrast of the older woman's devotion and the girl's casual behavior lit a fire between my legs and made my nipples become painfully aware of their cruel decorations.

When the Asian girl looked up and her eyes met mine, I almost took a step back at the intensity. I felt caught, and the moment felt like the epitome of the famous saying about a hand in the cookie char. Her eyes never left mine when she bent forward and said something to the older woman, who immediately extended her hand, palm up, to the girl, who bent over it. I couldn't believe my eyes when her lips parted and a long line of drool started to drip down onto the offered hand, landing in the middle of it and forming a small puddle. I think I gasped when the woman brought the hand to her mouth and started to lap up the girl's spittle with deep gratitude in her eyes.

I so wanted to push my hand between my legs and frig myself to this sexual image, and only the public setting and the clamps on my pussy lips prevented me.

"What's keeping you?" Anne's voice was sharp and impatient, and it whirled me back into the here and now.

"I'm sorry," I stammered, looking down at the floor, "I just... I'm sorry, Mistress."

Her eyes travelled around the room, searching for the image that had captured me like that. I looked up warily. The Asian girl was still looking into my direction, and when Anne's gaze fell on her, she winked.

My girlfriend immediately scowled and grabbed my hand, not saying a word, just pulling me across the room, and I stumbled after her, my heart clenching in fear that I had somehow seriously offended her.

Yellow-red was already waiting for us, lounging in a seat with her feet propped up on the edge of the table. "What kept her?"

"Bao," my girlfriend growled and plopped down on the chair next to her, completely ignoring me, "couldn't pull her eyes away from her and her old whore!"

That drew a hearty chuckle from the girl in bright colors. "Oh my, her first minute here and she already put her foot in it. But don't tell me you're going to be pouting the whole evening!"

"And what if I did?" Anne's retort was rather childish.

"You shouldn't. If you need to blow off some steam, you have your personal outlet with you."

"You've got a point." She let out a deep breath, then turned her face to me and snapped, "What are you standing around? Get on your knees in front of me and clasp your hands behind your head, little slut!"

Her words were like whiplashes to my face, and I felt quite helpless and overwhelmed. I couldn't explain her sudden change in demeanor. Perhaps there was some kind of history between her and the Asian girl? But that didn't matter, what mattered was the feeling of rejection that suddenly gripped me, and the yearning to somehow make it up to my girlfriend, to please her and get the loving smile back onto her lips. I sank to my knees in front of her and lowered my eyes. The urge to apologize again was almost frightening in its intensity, but at the last second I remembered the order to stay quiet.

Anne and her friend started to talk about girls I didn't know, about who was doing what now and had hooked up with whom and anecdotes of fights and drama I couldn't follow. Still, I finally learned yellow-red's name, which was Jolene. I stifled a gasp when I suddenly felt my lover's fingernails scratch over the tops of my breasts. She started to play with the clamps. While the two talked, she kept flicking them from time to time, sometimes twisting them or pulling on them.

It felt different than before, when her focus had been on me. The heat between my legs didn't appear right away, and it kept in the background while I winced and scrunched up my face. Over time, her ministrations got even rougher, and it wasn't all that long until my eyes went misty once more.

"Do you want to be rid of the clamps?"

I almost missed Anne's question in the middle of her talk.

"Yes, please, Mistress!" I hastily confirmed.

"Then shuffle over to Jolene and ask her if she will take them off."

Walking on my knees, with my hands behind my head, proved to be an uncomfortable experience. My knees protested with every contact with the floor, and my movements were awkward. But addressing the girl now in front of me and begging her to remove my implements of torture was even more so.

"Would you please remove the paper clips from my Nipples, Ma'am?" My eyes were hopeful and, what I hoped, demure.

"Let me think..." Her eyes travelled away and she rubbed the tip of her nose. "What are you going to do for me in exchange, Bunnie?"

For a moment this felt too much. What could I offer? What dared I offer? There was only one direction this could be going, but would I offend Anne? Then I remembered the instructions outside the door. I had to trust Anne, despite her momentary irritation, to make all decisions for me.

Nevertheless, my voice trembled. "Anything, Ma'am."

"My, my, how could I refuse such an offer? Come here," she purred, lifting one leg and allowing me to shuffle in front of her, "I've got a nice, steamy treat waiting for you."

Putting the leg down again and practically corralling me in, she reached down between her legs and pulled up a zipper with a swift motion. The latex parted and exposed a completely shaved pussy, the lips swollen and glistening with moisture, the petals of her inner lips peeking out of the slightly parted slit, soft, pink and beautiful. When had I started to think about a girl's privates as beautiful? The discovery astonished me. My life was spinning out of control, being put upside down and inside out. Yet, the deliciously shimmering folds beckoned my tongue.

"Stick out your tongue and start to lick," she ordered with a purr, "but don't touch my clit yet. That's going to come later."

I swallowed. My second pussy! Another step on a path on which I couldn't delude myself into thinking I was straight and just testing the waters with my best friend. I was nervous and embarrassed. Jolene, though, seemed to have no qualms about baring her most private part in public and letting me go down on her, and the lack of outraged gasps around us had me guess that this might be a regular thing here.

A strong scent wafted into my nostrils, a mix of sweat and the musky, heavy aroma of her arousal. Taking a deep breath, I trailed my tongue over her smooth skin and tasted her for the first time. The sweat made it salty, but underneath was a rich aroma with only a hint of sharpness. I pressed the tip of my tongue into her slit and felt the outline of her entrance, then I licked upwards, coating my whole tongue with her juice and being careful to stop before I reached her clit, which was quite swollen and peeking out from its hood.

"Good girl," she sighed, "just like that."

I kept repeating my tongue's motion, again and again, while she talked with my girlfriend, and the only signs that she was enjoying my ministrations were some soft sighs when she wasn't speaking, small ripples that travelled over her stomach and the never-ending supply of musky juice that filled my senses. Did she really have that much self-control? Was I doing something wrong? I'd be writhing and moaning on the seat if I was in her place. I redoubled my efforts, burying my tongue deep inside her love channel before licking up her satiny folds.

I didn't pay attention to their conversation, too engrossed in my task at hand, but when I felt a tremor race through her body, I could hear her say, "Excuse me for a moment, I'm going to come." Her hand pressed down on my head. "Now, suck my clit!"

I sucked her swollen pearl between my lips, finally eager to claim my price, and rubbed the length of my tongue over it. I suckled and nibbled at it, and now each touch got the desired response of moans and shivers. Her hand buried itself in my hair, her fingernails dug into my scalp, but I didn't mind right then, because I could feel her tremors intensify, and then she gave a high-pitched yelp which was followed by a long, drawn-out moan, and then she clamped her legs around my head. Moisture dripped from my chin, but I didn't stop, and short yaps told me that she was riding the pleasure.

Finally she had enough, and her legs relaxed. She pushed me away, her chest heaving and her eyes glassy.

"That was nice, really nice. I think you were made to lick pussy."

A strange mixture of pride and shame made my cheeks flushed and my nipples throb.

"Hands behind your head again," she ordered while zipping up her suit again, "then we can see about your reward."

I did as ordered, and her fingers grabbed the clamps' handles. Her eyes bore into mine. "This is going to hurt like hell. Whatever you do, keep your hands behind your head."

I nodded, now a bit afraid. I remembered the pain when Anne had removed the clamps from my pussy lips only too well, and readied myself for it.

She didn't open the clamps. She simply pulled, harder and harder, and I had to shift my weight backwards so I wouldn't topple over. My breasts extended, my nipples pulled painfully away from my body, stretching and hurting in equal measure. "Ow," I whimpered. "God, that hurts!"

Jolene kept pulling harder, and for a moment I thought that my nipples would simply be torn off. But then one of the clamps gave way and slipped off, immediately followed by the other, and I had to struggle to keep my balance. Another wave of pain hit my nipples, like a thick needle being stabbed through them. I sobbed, and I so wanted to cover them with my hands. Instead, I just knelt there, under the watchful eyes of Jolene and Anne, and felt the tears trickle down my cheeks while the pain slowly ebbed away from my nipples, which still stood at attention, clearly proud about their treacherous behavior.

"She is beautiful, a true rose in a garden of weeds," a melodic voice commented next to Anne, "who would have thought that you would make such a find." I recognized the Asian girl, Bao, and my breath hitched.

Anne seemed just as surprised by her appearance as I was, and her eyes grew wary. "What would you know about her?"




A Bunny to Play With Ch. 06



"What I saw is enough. The way she listens, her devotion to the moment, and how beautifully she suffers. Even more beautiful than you did."

Bao's fingers stroked Anne's cheeks, who froze at her words, as did I. Did she just imply that Anne had submitted to her? I expected an explosion any moment, and I could see anger filling my girlfriend's eyes.

"Now, now, my precious Anne, jealousy doesn't become you. I am not here to take her away from you, or to belittle you."

"Then what are you here for?" The hissed words gave away how close my lover was to losing her composure.

"To congratulate you on a rare find," the smile on the girl's face was sincere. "She is still untainted, and yet she can let go in the blink of an eye. She will be a joy to have." Her fingers suddenly tilted Anne's chin upwards, so they were looking into each other's eyes. "But you have to be careful with her. To satisfy her, to keep her, you will also have to let her and yourself go."

"Yeah, yeah, keep your karate kid mumbo jumbo to yourself."

Anne was losing her patience, but Bao was sensing it and took a step back. "Goodbye, fresh flower. We will see each other again." She turned on the spot and floated away with gracile movements. I stared after her, questions filling me to the brim.

"She seems to know how to push your buttons," a voice, Kirsten, commented dryly, "do I sense some history there?"

"Don't ask!" Anne just hissed, and my eyes swiveled to the newcomer.

She had changed into a little black dress and matching gloves that almost reached her shoulders. The soft, milky-white skin of her big breasts formed a deep cleft and was nicely contrasted by the black, lacy frills of her bra which peeked out. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and her lips painted black, matching the eye shadow and making her look a bit menacing. It was quite the transformation from the sweet waitress from earlier.

She took the chair to the other side of Anne and leaned back with a sigh. "Getting off early was a good idea!"

Jolene giggled and made me aware of the involuntary pun. I bit my lip.

"So what have you been doing, besides arguing with Bao?"

"Mostly talking," Anne told her, slowly relaxing. "Though queen bee here let my pet nibble at her honey pot before squeezing a few tears from her."

"Oh, too bad I missed that. So that's the glistening stuff on her chin, I was wondering if she's drooling a lot."

The jab was obviously made in good fun, but I blushed nonetheless.

"She's cute."

"Maybe, but if people keep complimenting her, this will go to her head. She needs to be brought down a notch rather than put on a pedestal."

"Have you got something planned already?" Jolene was licking her lips.

"Why don't we play a game? Bunnie here has two very uncomfortable items attached to her pussy lips as a punishment and three further punishments to come. Why don't we see who can get her to make a noise first, and whoever wins can give her bum a good hiding?"

"Sounds intriguing." Jolene's eyes lit up.

"I'm in too. How much time does each one get?"

"I thought fifteen seconds, that way we should at least get a turn each. But she'll still be in for another punishment if I feel that she doesn't try her best."

Their conversation was a bit like watching a movie to me, and the implications only hit home when I was ordered to stand and drop my skirt. I opened the zip with trembling fingers, and when it slid down I stood naked in a hall full of people, my heart beating like mad. The tingling heat of the blush on my face spread downwards and reached the tops of my boobs. I could see strangers all around us shift their attention to me and felt their eyes all over my exposed body.

Jolene sat up straight, and her crooked finger beckoned me over to her. I took some hesitant steps, trying to draw out the moment, but all too soon I was standing in front of her, feeling more naked than I had ever before in my life.

She reached out with her hands and I held my breath. But she stopped short of touching the evil clamps and turned towards Anne. "She's got a lot of hair there, are you going to do anything about that?"

"Most certainly, I might want to lick her cunt myself sometimes, and I abhor having hairs between my teeth."

"You know where I work. I could give you a good price if you want it permanently removed."

My mouthed formed a silent "oh". Permanent? I wasn't sure about that, even though I had been thinking about getting rid of my pubic hair. But the idea of having it done on Anne's orders was alluring.

"I'll have to think about it."

"You know what? I'll even do it for free, if you let me do a bit more."

Anne's eyebrow went up. "More?"

The grin on Jolene's lips was almost feral. "Oh, I've got tons of ideas. We'd have to talk about how far you want to go, but you'd probably like most of them."

"I think we should meet up tomorrow and talk about it."

"Yes, we should. Now to you, little Bunnie. Remember, no sound!"

She didn't give me time to brace myself, and with my mind still spinning from the implications of their talk, I had to bite down hard on my lip to avoid a pained groan when her fingers started to pull and twist on the clamps. This time she didn't build up the pulling, and the pain was sharp and biting. It took all of my self-control to leave my arms at my side. My poor pussy was on fire, and every little movement of the paper clips made it worse.

"Time's up!" Anne's voice was a relief, the pulling instantly ceasing.

But a moment later I was standing in front of her, and she gave me a look that made my knees weak. "I want to hear not even the tiniest noise. I know you can do it. Make me proud."

I nodded. And pushed out my pelvis. Her fingers wrapped around the small handles and moved them quickly from side to side. Tiny squelching sounds came from my pussy and my breath hitched. The pain built up and tears started to trickle from my eyes, rolled down my chin and trickled onto my chest. Then she pushed at the clamps, making them dig even deeper into my skin, and I almost cried out.

"Time's up!" This time it was Kirsten who announced the short break in my torment, and I shuffled over to her without being told.

"Legs wide, hands clasped behind your back," she ordered, and when I didn't comply fast enough, she admonished me, "be quick. Wider." Finally, my position was to her satisfaction. But she had another order. "Look into my eyes, and don't look away."

Maybe it was just the black eye shadow, but her eyes appeared like those of a hungry animal. I shuddered, goose bumps racing down my back.

The fresh pain hit me like a storm. She pulled the clamps apart and then twisted them in opposite directions, further and further. My tears didn't take long to overflow again, but she simply continued her movement, and I was sure she was trying to pull off my pussy lips, the edges of the clamps biting into my soft flesh like blades.

"Ow," I whimpered and almost fell to my knees, but she didn't let go, even enforced the pressure. "Oh god please! Please! Ow! Ow! That hurts!" I was close to hysterics.

"Time's up!" Anne chimed. "Winner gets to remove the clamps."

Kirsten showed at least a measure of mercy by snapping the clamps open before removing them. Still, the blood rushing back felt like huge needles being stabbed through my sensitive parts, and I sunk to my knees, rocking back and forth and praying for the pain to fade.

"Yay, I won!" Kirsten waved the paper clips above her head like a trophy, and the other two girls congratulated her. It was somehow surreal.

"Where are we going to do it? A private room?"

"I think so. We can always leave the door open if we want an audience."

"So..."

Just at that moment, the light in the hall dimmed, a spotlight illuminated the stage and an expectant silence fell over the room.



A Bunny to Play With Ch. 07



My bum cheeks were safe for the moment, for all our eyes were riveted to the stage and nobody even dared to whisper. A tall woman in an elegant moss green evening dress which she could have worn to the opera stepped onto the platform. A dress she could almost have worn to the opera, I corrected my impression when I noticed the deep neckline that almost reached to her navel, exposing a good part of her big, full breasts and adding more than a touch of indecency. Her skin was deeply tanned, and she moved with the grace of a feline, her eyes roaming all through the hall. Her face was exotic, emphasized by an Egyptian-style makeup, golden highlights on her lips and eyelids. Her hair glittered in the spotlight.

"My dear ladies," she addressed the crowd, "tonight I have a very special treat for you. The regulars among you all know Lady Sarah, a founding member of our club and, if we may trust the whispered conversations between our bratty subs, a harsh but creative mistress." A few giggles sounded in the crowd. "In this evening's public scene we will watch her dominate another regular here, one that I - and probably you as well - would never have expected to end up on the receiving end. But a bet is a bet, as Lady Sarah told me, and there is no wiggling out of it. So let's be grateful about this rare opportunity and give your applause for Lady Sarah and Bao!"

I was surprised that the beautiful, self-assured Asian girl was going to be the sub on the stage. But my surprise had nothing on Anne's, who sat there, staring open-mouthed at the stage.

After a shocked pause, people started clap. The first person to appear was clad in black leather from head to toe, the cliché of a dominatrix if there was one. Her slick black hair swung with every step, the heels of her boots making a rhythmic sound that filled the hall once the clapping eased off. Then she stopped, and a smaller shape became visible, crawling out on all fours from behind her, her equally black hair almost touching the ground. The crawling girl went up onto her knees and her face became visible, as did the state of her undress. She looked cute, petite and boyish. Gasps sounded around us.

"Thank you." Lady Sarah's voice was deep and velvety. "I am sure I do not need to tell you what special occurrence tonight's event is. I will not go into details about how it came to be, so please refrain from asking. What I can tell you is that Bao has agreed to receive two hundred lashes..." Fresh gasps rose from the crowd. "Two hundred lashes on whatever part of her body and using whatever implement I choose."

The woman stroked Bao's head, who lowered her eyes. "To make it more exciting, Bao has promised to take her punishment standing upright and without being restrained. We have agreed that any flinching away on her part will add two more lashes."

The low buzzing of excited whispers started to fill the hall.

"That said, two hundred lashes are a lot, and I fear that if I tried to give those on my own I might be the one ending up in the most pain." This drew some laughter from the crowd. "So I'll need a volunteer - please wait a second."

Bao had put her hand on Sarah's arm, and now the two of them were whispering back and forth. Finally I saw Sarah nod.

"Very well, my slave for tonight has asked to be allowed to pick the person aiding in her punishment. Would Mistress Anne please come up to the stage and help me give her the deserved punishment?"

Anne paled. For a moment I even thought she would faint, and I could see her fingers grip the armrest so hard that her knuckles turned white. But after a deep breath her face became indifferent and she stood up. Immediately, all eyes swiveled towards her. 

"Crawl after me!" she hissed at me, but I was quite sure that it wasn't me her ire was directed at, and so I followed her, naked and on all fours, as she swerved through the tables. We climbed up to the stage over a few stairs at the side, and girl was already waiting with a small headset and a receiver, quickly outfitting Anne with it and clipping the receiver to the back of her belt.

Then we reached the spotlight and Anne stopped next to Lady Sarah. I knelt upright, a respectable arm's length away, and tried to mimic Bao's posture. The crowd's looks felt like hot fingers brushing over my naked skin, and they made me feel lightheaded from embarrassment and filled me with a strange sense of pride.

"I hope you don't mind that I brought my own slave with me to watch the proceedings," Anne's now self-assured sounding voice filled the hall. "I thought it would be an educational experience."

"Not at all, my dear. What would you like to use?"

"I'd like to warm her skin with the leather cat, but for the second half I'd like to use the cane. Bao has always had a fondness for it."

"Excellent choices! I will start with the cat-o-nine as well, before I see how she takes to the braided whip."

The same girl that had outfitted Anne with her headset appeared again, this time pushing a cart with the chosen implements on top.

"Get into position!" Sarah ordered, and Bao rose gracefully to her feet, standing with them shoulder width apart, stretching her arms straight above her head. I could only envy the ease with which she moved. Her face didn't betray a single emotion.

Both Mistresses took their weapons from the cart and stood to Bao's sides. Anne nodded, and like clockwork, Sarah's arm went back and then swished forward again, the strands of the flogger hitting the tops of Bao's thighs with a multitude of snaps. On the downswing, Anne's arm went back, and her stroke fell equally loud on the Asian's buttocks. A rhythm established itself, a stroke hitting every other second, smacking and cracking against the young woman's beautiful, soft skin.

I counted them in my head. They varied their targets, slowly circling around the victim of the punishment, hitting all over her body, her thighs, her buttocks, her back and shoulders, even her small breasts and pubes.

They had already reached forty, but still had to draw any kind of reaction from Bao, who stared straight ahead as if lost in her own world, a deep tranquility shining in her dark eyes. Her skin was quickly reddening wherever the leather strands hit her. The air was filled with the whooshing and snapping of the whips, and every stoically received painful stroke made my admiration for the Asian girl rise to new levels.

Eighty. The tips of Anne's cat-o-nine tails hit directly on Bao's pussy, and I could see the girl's eyes flicker for a moment. But she took the next twenty in stride, and I couldn't stop myself from whispering "hundred."

Both arms stopped their swings, and I thought for a moment I might have done something wrong. But a sweet smile from Sarah relieved my worries. "Very good, slave."

They exchanged their weapons. I thought I saw something like unease in Anne's eyes, but I wasn't sure. She took up position once more so she could strike Bao's backside. Sarah's chosen whip looked dangerous, more than three feet long and made of leather strips braided with each other. She took a few steps back, weighing the distance, and saw my concerned look. "Don't worry, little one, it looks worse than it is. It's only the tip that does really hurt. The cane your Mistress picked is a lot more dangerous."

I swallowed and nodded.

Then the first swing of the long whip fell, the braid wrapping around Bao's hip and the thin end snapping against her buttock. I thought I saw a small tremor in the Asian's legs. A second later the cane whooshed through the air and landed with a loud snap on the other buttock. This time I was sure about the movement.

They quickly settled into a rhythm again. Sarah made sure that most of the energy was taken by the thick braid, but the tip nonetheless left angry red stripes. The cane created welts, long and thin, like those the older woman who had been worshipping Bao's foot had carried. They slowly rotated again, and by half time, Anne was standing to her other side, the cane lifted horizontally. It swished against the underside of Bao's breasts, whose lower lip started to tremble. Yet, she didn't move any other part of her body. Sarah was right behind her, her whip alternating between the left and right hip, the tip of it landing with a high pitched snap on the sensitive skin of her thighs just below her pussy.

Then Sarah stepped just an inch or two closer, and the tip snapped onto Bao's pussy lip. A tear trickled over the Asian's cheek. Anne's cane struck across the light pink nipples, and another tear joined the first.

It was cruel. And it was sexy as hell. I yearned to touch myself between my legs, to ease the heat that was building up there.

The Mistresses now let loose and only hit the poor Bao on her most sensitive spots. I would have screamed and bawled and rolled away by now, but she just stood there, her body taut like a bowstring and tears running out of her pretty almond eyes and dripping from her chin.

"One hundred ninety-eight," I whispered to myself, unable to avert my eyes, "one hundred ninety-nine," and the final smack of the cane fell over the tops of her breasts, "two hundred."

Both Mistresses were breathing hard by now from the exertion. Bao's body was a mess of red welts, but she still held her position even though her legs and arms were trembling. Her eyes flickered to me, and I expected anguish in them, but what I saw astounded me. It was need, pure and uninhibited need, the same flame of arousal and yearning Anne managed to kindle in me. The desperation in her eyes told me how close she was to find relief.

"Lady Sarah?" I asked without thinking.

"Yes, slave?"

"May I - may I kiss her pussy? May I give her the pleasure she needs right now?"

She looked taken aback for a moment, but quickly caught herself, a wistful smile forming on her lips. "Yes, you may."

I didn't look at Anne. In the back of my mind I knew I should have. But in this moment, the only thing on my mind was the need and desperation in those beautiful eyes, and I felt a bond, an obligation between equals, to end her suffering. I know, it sounds cheesy, but right at this moment I was in a different world. I crawled between Bao's legs and plastered soft kisses on her reddened thighs. I smelt her arousal, sharp and sweet, right in front of me. My fingers opened her petals and my lips wrapped around her shiny clit. I slid my index finger up her love channel; wet and silky as it was, I didn't need to hold back. And then I gave her clit short, hard sucks, one, two, and at the third I felt her pussy clench around my finger almost painfully. Her hands gripped the back of my head and her whole body shook. Wetness splashed onto my chin and her taste and scent filled my whole universe.

She couldn't keep standing and slid to her knees in front of me, our naked bodies pressing against each other's. Her arms went around me and she gave me a soft, wet kiss on the neck. "Thank you, precious rose. You are as special as I thought."

"I - You -" Her proximity made thinking hard. "This was incredible. It must have been excruciating!"

"It was, but the body can endure much if you let your soul fly free. But tell me, little rose, how can I pay you back?"

"You - you don't need to," I stammered, my voice still filled with adoration, "but - if you want..." I bit my lip and mustered up all my courage, leaning back a bit and looking straight into her eyes, "...hurt me, like they did you." The nagging voice in the back of my mind got louder. "If - if my Mistress allows, that is."

"I'm not sure I should allow anything in the foreseeable future," Anne's angry voice sounded right next to me, and I could sense the deep hurt in it, "after you took this liberty. I'm not sure I can even punish you appropriately! I'm not even sure I want to see you at all right now!"

"No!" I cried, turning to her and grabbing her hand. "Please! I'll do anything, but don't push me away. I was caught up in the moment; I promise I'll do better in the future! I'll never again ignore you! Please! Punish me, any way you like, don't push me away!" Tears streamed down my face, and she made a halfhearted attempt to pull her hand free, but seeing my anguish, she relented.

She extended her other arm, and I threw myself into her embrace, sobbing and promising to better myself while she stroked my hair and tried to soothe me.

"I'll have to punish you harshly, though," she whispered into my ear.

I nodded into her shoulder, sniffling and trying to stop my tears. "I know." And then a thought struck me, one quite terrifying and exciting. "I've failed you here on the stage, so you should punish me here."

She grabbed my shoulders and held me at arms' length, looking at me with disbelief. "You don't know what you are asking. You're already making quite the spectacle, but if I would punish you here, it would be far worse than anything you would normally receive. The crowd would want a real show, after Bao's performance."

"I know." I took a deep breath. "But I can do it. For you."

We stared into each other's eyes for a long time. She tried to look for any insecurities on my part, for any sign that I might be biting off more than I could chew. I just looked back at her steadfastly, projecting all the love and determination that was swirling inside my heart. It was madness, yes, but a good kind of madness, and I somehow knew that our relationship, as fresh as it was, had been balancing on an edge already, with Bao as the catalyst.

"God, Bunnie," she finally whispered, her fingernails digging into my naked shoulders, "you've got no idea what you're doing to me. I want to kiss you and hug you and whip you till you have no untouched patch of skin left, all at the same time."

My lips curled up. "What says you can't do all of that, and more?"

The look of defeat in her eyes was giving room for excitement. "I probably will. But don't say you haven't been warned."

I nodded and took a look around. The spotlight on the stage had long since been turned off and the attention of the crowd had shifted back to their conversations. Sarah and Bao were nowhere to see.

Anne gave me a soft kiss on my forehead that stirred up those fluttery wings in my stomach again. "Come on," she whispered, letting go of my shoulders and taking my hand, "they are probably in the backstage changing room, and we need to talk to Lauren about this."

"Lauren?"

"The woman who did the introductions. She's one of the club's owners."

****

When we entered the changing room, Bao was stretched out on a massage table and Sarah was rubbing some kind of oil into the skin of her back. Lauren sat on a chair to the side, and the moment we crossed the threshold, her eyes were on me. The intensity and knowledge in her eyes made me want to fidget, but that wouldn't do. We stopped, Anne's hand resting on my shoulder. The image of Bao, proud and graceful even while in pain, was fresh in my mind, and I unconsciously tried to emulate her. I pulled back my shoulders, clasped my hands behind my back and lifted my chin.

"Hello Lauren," Anne greeted her with a touch of respect in her voice that I had only ever heard before when she talked about her favorite arts professor, "how are you?"

"I am well, thank you. And looking at your beautiful companion, I think you must be too."

"I - I am." This wasn't the self-assured Anne I was used to. "I would like to ask a favor of you, Lauren."

Lauren tilted her head to the side and watched us, appearing to ponder her reply. Then the fingers of her left hand vanished in her locks, returning a second later with one of those earpieces security guys normally wear. "I'm quite aware of the favor you want to ask. But, from the little that I know of your Bunnie, you will certainly be able to understand that I have a few reservations."

My girlfriend nodded. "I understand."

"Nevertheless, reservations are to be proven either true or unfounded. Would you agree to a little test, Bunnie?"

"You don't need to do it," Anne whispered into my ear, her voice filled with concern.

"But I want to," I answered with a determination I could only wish for. "Yes, I will, Ma'am."

"Then step into the middle of the room, dear, and close your eyes. Whatever happens, keep them closed and do not make a sound. I will know if you cheat."

The few steps took me all too little time, and then I was standing there, my eyes closed and trying to get a feel for my center of gravity. It is astounding how uncertain one can feel over a simple task as standing upright, when the sense of sight is taken away and the mind has time to think about it. I was unsure what I should do with my arms, but after fiddling around a bit, I decided that doing something was better than doing nothing, and I linked my fingers behind my head.

The clicking sound of Lauren's heels went away, then returned. She circled me, once, twice, then she stood still at my side. I was sure she was about to hit me with something, a whip, a cane, I could only guess. My legs tensed, but the pain didn't come. She resumed her walk, around and around. And I realized how futile all efforts on my part of anticipating the impact were. She could just hit me while she circled me.

That was the moment I relaxed and let my tension flow out of me. She would hit me whenever, wherever she was ready, and I would go with the flow and try my best to take it. Another circle, two, three, and then there was a swishing noise and a tingling heat on the back of my thighs. My leg muscles clenched, and then my body registered the severity of the impact and the searing, biting pain it brought. I wanted to scream and pull away, but that part that wanted to please my Mistress also was still working in me and held me together.

My legs trembled a bit, but otherwise I held my posture. And when the sharp pain turned into a dull, throbbing heat, it mingled with the pride about my achievement, formed into a deep feeling of satisfaction and made my heart swell.

"Very well done, little Bunnie," Lauren's voice whispered into my ear, "very well indeed. Now keep like this just a little longer for the second test."

Second test? The words echoed in my mind while her footsteps receded. Something clinked, then she came back. A snap followed by a hissing sound almost made me twitch, and a little later I could smell the smoke of a cigarette. She was standing right in front of me, and at first I wasn't sure, but after some time I noticed that the tops of my pussy lips were getting warm. Very warm. My mind made the connection, and the image frightened me. She wouldn't burn me, would she? But I had to trust her, had to trust Anne that she wouldn't allow something like this!

Yet the warmth grew stronger, and suddenly it was a searing heat that cut through my pussy lips like a knife. I screamed and let myself fall back. "Dragon!" I screamed, "Dragon!" I landed painfully on my bum and scuttled farther away from the danger, only belatedly thinking to open my eyes.

Lauren stood there with a wide grin, the cigarette held far to the side, her other hand holding an dripping ice cube in front of her at the height my pussy had been a few seconds earlier. A look at my pussy and a careful touch confirmed it. Everything was still intact, the only sign I encountered was a cool, moist spot.

She had fooled me. And I had reacted as if I had been burnt. I had failed! I clenched my legs together and bent over them, lowering my head to hide my tears. I couldn't hide the way my upper body was starting to shake though.

A hand rubbed softly up and down my back. "I'm so proud of you," Anne whispered.

I sniffled. Then I lifted my head and opened my eyes, my tear-streaked face forgotten. "Proud?" I squeaked.

"Proud. Very proud." Her hands kneaded my shoulders, which felt like pure delight.




A Bunny to Play With Ch. 07



"But I failed!"

"Hush, silly girl. You didn't fail. You passed with flying colors!"

"I - I did? But how?" My emotions were a swirl, running on a roller-coaster, and I somehow couldn't, didn't want, to believe her. But looking up at Lauren's face, seeing the pleased, soft expression there, made it seem possible.

"You performed quite admirably, Bunnie." She stepped closer and crouched down in front of me with a fluidity that belied the twenty-or-more years she had over me. "This test wasn't just about self-control, it was also about your sense of self-preservation. A good sub must also be aware of her limits and able to voice them. If you hadn't pulled away, if you had not used your safe word, I would have forbidden you from performing on the stage today. While pain is an integral part of our play, permanent harm is not. Yet there are subs out there who are so dependent on their owner or lover, they fail to care for their own safety. I cannot stop those from playing in private, but I will not see them damaged on my stage. Bao tells me you are quite new into the scene?"

I nodded, trying to process what she had just told me.

"And you have never experienced the whip or cane before?"

Shaking my head, I started to fear that she was about to dissuade me from my wish.

"Intriguing," she murmured, "that you would pick such a cruel punishment then. Tell me, what is it about this punishment that fascinates you, is it the pain or the mental image?"

"It's -" My voice caught in my throat and I had to cough. It still sounded raspy when I continued, unable to hide my nervousness, "it's both. Mostly the mental thing at first, though, giving up the power, letting things be done to me." I bit my lip, searching to find the right words. "Pleasing my Mistress is a big part of it too, knowing how much she enjoys to have that power."

The fingers on my shoulders picked up their ministrations, which I hadn't realized before that she had stopped. A tentative smile formed tugged at my lips. "But the pain is also a big part. At first it's horrible, but it somehow changes, I don't know how to put it, it transforms into something different and makes me..." I looked down, a bit ashamed about the crudeness of my words. "...makes me so horny I could explode."

It somehow felt like a job interview. A very, very strange job interview, with me sitting bare-assed on the floor, my feet lewdly splayed to the sides, and the interviewer in her beautiful dress crouched in front of me and asking me quite intimate questions.

I couldn't stop the giggle that welled up from my chest, and when Lauren looked at me with a curious expression on her face, the words left my lips on their own accord, my eyes wide like a doe's. "Do I get the job, Ma'am?"

For an instant, she just stared at me, but then her head tilted back and her throaty laugh filled the room. "Oh my, you're quite a feisty one. Who would have thought? You remind me very much of another girl who came to me about a year ago and also wanted to perform for the audience, just a week after her first dip into submission."

"Did you let her?"

"No, she didn't even have a safe word. But I gave her bum a good hiding for coming to me without one."

Something glinted in her eyes, and then I noticed that she wasn't looking at me, but over my shoulder. I slowly turned my head. "Mistress?"

The way she blushed, bit her lip and nodded was so not the Anne I knew. So it was true, also what Bao had insinuated earlier.

"I didn't start out as a domme. I had this fling with one of our assistant professors who introduced me to a whole new world of kinky play. I was like a child in a candy store and simply had to try out everything."

My voice turned into a whisper. "You were Bao's submissive?"

"For a time. But I found I was more of a giver than a receiver."

"It must have been hot, though!" I could see that the memory excited her, the way her nostrils flared, her lips seemed to swell and her breath grew faster.

"It's in the past, though."

"Did she bite you, like you did me?"

Her fingernails dug painfully into my shoulder until she became aware of it and quickly eased her grip. "Impertinent little slut!" she admonished me, but her heart wasn't into it.

I don't exactly know what came over me when I suggested, "I'd love to see that. Afterwards, you could both dominate me. And punish me for being an impertinent little slut."

I probably said it a bit louder than I had wanted to, because the silence that followed my words was instantaneous and complete. Even Lauren was frozen in her place, and when seconds stretched into minutes, it finally dawned to me that I had stepped on a sore spot. On a very, very sore spot, if the lack of movement in Anne's fingers was anything to go by.

"Oh god," I whispered, "I'm sorry. I didn't think..."

"That's right!" The venom in her voice felt like a bucket of ice water. "You didn't think, you didn't know, but you blabbed on anyway. Let's get out of here!"

She gripped my upper arm and pulled me roughly to my feet. But just when I had found my equilibrium and started to traipse after her, a petite body shot past us and slammed the door shut.

"Let us out!" Anne demanded, her eyes blazing. "Now!"

"I cannot do that." Bao folded her arms in front of her. "I would not mind if it was just about the two of us. But now you have her. You need closure, if you do not want to repeat the same mistake on the other side of the line."

"I don't care what you think!" The pitch of Anne's voice was rising. "You think you can just barge into my space after almost a year, without so much as a sorry, and believe you have to say something I will listen to? Talk about delusions here!"

"It is not about us."

"About what is it, then? About your oh so very precious experiences as a domme? You can fold those and stuff them up your pretty little bum, for all I care."

Anne had stepped closer to the Asian girl with every sentence, dragging me along, and now the two of them were almost skin to skin, my girlfriend's eyes burning with rage, Bao's wide and searching.

Bao sighed and dropped her arms. "I see that we will not be able to talk without arguing. But please be careful." She tried to put her hand on Anne's shoulder but was roughly shrugged off.

* * * * *

Anne pulled me outside and down a long corridor that twisted and turned, then through a non-descript door that had us enter the hall from the side. My emotions were all over the place, and the only two things I could focus on were not to cry and, following my girlfriend's brisk pace, to keep my footing.

She stopped for a second at our table to tell a bewildered Jolene and Kirsten that we were heading home. Getting back to the car happened in somewhat of a daze for me; at some point I was handed my clothes and ordered to dress, but apart from that, the next thing I was aware was a stony-faced Anne driving us home, looking straight ahead the whole time, and me sitting on the passenger seat, fidgeting, trying and failing to find words to say.

Once in our room, she headed straight into the bathroom and locked the door. The shower started after a minute, and I didn't need a lot of intuition to guess that she would take her time. I undressed and crawled into my bed, dimming the light and allowing the tears which I had fought to hold back slide down my face.



A Bunny to Play With Ch. 08



I was lying on my bed and struggling not to bite my nails. What had been such a wonderful evening, such an exciting journey down the rabbit hole, had suddenly turned sour and into an emotional nightmare. I wanted to sob in desperation, to shout and throw things against the wall, because I was filled with a rage that was targeted at myself. I had let myself get carried away and hurt the one woman I had only recently, but all the more intensely, grown to love.

There couldn't have been any hot water left for the rest of the building when Anne returned. I feigned sleep, but even through the small, blurry slits, I noticed how red and swollen her eyes were. Her wet hair was sticking to her head, and the towel she had wrapped around her body was precariously close to slipping. The pattering of her feet stopped in the middle of the room, and I got a slightly better look at her.

The vulnerability in her eyes was something I had not encountered before, and it made my breath hitch. For a short moment, I could imagine our roles reversed, and I recognized the fascination that would come with the power of such a fragile creature, the sweetness of the tears and the gift of submission. I knew deep down that I couldn't do that, that dominating another was as far from my nature as could be. But I recognized it no less, found parts of my own insecurities mirrored on her face, and perhaps I could make amends for having started the drama.

"Mistress?"

Her head whipped around and I watched the muscles in her face tighten. "Yes?"

"Will you let me please you tonight?"

The slight sagging of her shoulders told me that she was fighting an internal struggle. "I'm not sure. I'm not sure about many things, right now."

"Shit. Anne - Mistress Summers!" My eyes found hers, and I laid all the desperation and guilt I felt into the look. My vision threatened to blur, but I thought I saw her face softening when she took a hesitant step towards me.

She used to be more decisive than that, though. "Please!" I pushed away the blanket to give her an added incentive. "I can see that you need it. Let me kiss it better, let me begin to make it up for my slip-ups. Please let me worship your body and give you a nice dream. I love you."

The way her lips formed a small "O," the way her shoulders straightened again, the way her eyes widened and started to glint was like balm to my soul. With a few, dedicated steps she was at my side, the towel dropping to the floor, and her palms encased my cheeks.

"Oh you cute, silly thing. How can I resist you like that?" The kiss she gave me made me swoon. It was gentle at first, full of love and wonder, lips caressing and softly nibbling, but then the need bled into it and became a river, and her tongue and mouth conquered me, satiny touches and sweet tastes stirred with greedy laps and bites. She sank to the bed next to me. "I love you too, my pet."

I slid down all the way to the foot end of the bed and began to put tiny kisses on the soles of her feet, alternating sides, her small purrs of pleasure soon rewarding me. I kissed every inch of her feet, then slowly made my way up her ankles and shins. When I reached her thighs, her breathing grew faster and her legs parted to allow me easier access. I fought the feelings that were welling up inside me and took my time, enjoying every small gasp and little tremor my lips managed to evoke.

The first touch of my tongue to her pussy lips made her gasp louder. When I pushed it into her folds her body arched. I looked up at her face and saw her close her eyes in an expression of deep concentration. I licked her slowly, almost painstakingly for me and probably for her too. Stroking the soft skin at the top of her thighs with my fingertips made her twitch; tracing the outline of her pussy lips with my nails made her strain to meet my touch.

But I kept my touches light, wanting to draw out and intensify the pleasure for her. The way she was moaning and writhing below me, it was apparently working, and I felt a deep satisfaction with every audible expression of increasingly needful pleasure I could elicit. Her hands gripped the bed sheet and pulled and twisted. Finally, she couldn't take any more.

"Lick my clit; lick it, now, please!" Her words were little more than a drawn out moan.

I complied, parting her pussy lips with my fingers and painting soft circles on her clit with the tip of my tongue. Her breathing almost stopped for half a minute. All her muscles started to tighten and her whole body started to tremble. Small, almost painful sounding groans with a rising pitch told me she was getting close to her release. I wet my lips and softly sucked at her nub. That did it.

Her body arched like a bow, and then almost unintelligible moans of "oh god" and "yes" filled the air for a minute while her body twisted and shook and I had to hold on for dear life.

I crawled up again, smiling when I saw the sad look gone from her eyes.

"Your turn, you little tease," she whispered, her hand brushing over my stomach.

I shook my head and cuddled against her side, resting my head in the crook of her shoulder. "Just hold me. I want this moment to be all about you."

She caressed my cheek. "But aren't you horny?"

I giggled lightly and draped my arm over her chest. "Horny as hell. Almost painfully so."

"And you don't want release?"

"Believe me, I do. But as I said, I want this to be about what you want, and what you need, not about my own needs."

"Oh god, be careful what you offer. I might just take you up and expand on it."

"What do you mean?"

"Wouldn't it be delicious if I kept you horny like this, for days and days, letting you pleasure me in all kinds of ways, but not allowing you your own relief?"

The idea was terrifying. And wicked. And exciting as hell. My pussy twitched, and I could see in her eyes that she had noticed the rocking motion of my pelvis. Her smile was lopsided and sinister, making me want to kiss her and kneel at her feet at the same time.

"If it pleases you, Mistress."

"Oh it will," she chuckled, "believe me, it will. I'll make you tremble from head to toe with need, until you can't think straight. And then you'll lick me while I decide whether I allow you to come or not."

"Oh my god," I whispered and pressed myself closer to her body.

"Sleep well, my pet." The touch of her lips on my forehead felt like it would burn through my skin.

"Sleep well, my Mistress, and have the sweetest dreams."

It didn't take long until her breathing evened out and her body relaxed. It took far longer for me until the heat between my legs receded enough so my mind stopped conjuring all sorts of wicked images.

****

Waking up like this, cuddling with my girlfriend and our legs intertwined, felt like heaven. Only one and a half days, I realized with a bit of a start, and it felt natural to call her that in my head. Forty-eight hours ago I had still been certain that I was as straight as they come, and now I had kissed girls and tasted pussies, and I had been fondled and teased. A whole hall full of people had seen me nude. In short, my life had been turned upside down.

Perhaps I had watched too many movies, because I expected something bombastic, earthshaking when my eyes fluttered open. Instead, I saw a sweet face whispering, "Wake up, sleepyhead," and felt the grin pull at the corners of my mouth.

"Good morning, Mistress."

"Good morning, too. Now up with you, we've got a lot of last minute studying to do."

I groaned. She was right, but being reminded of all the cramming still on my to-do list for the following three days of exams only a minute after waking up wasn't how I imagined to start my day. "You're cruel!"

"And?"

We both burst into laughter. Gone was the heavy coat of drama from last evening.

"Okay, okay," I relented. "If you want to hop into the bath first, I'll make breakfast."

"See, I knew why I kept you around." She gave me a peck on the cheek.

"So it wasn't for reminding you of all the little things you would otherwise have forgotten, as well as all the cleaning and washing?"

"Don't you think it is unwise to remind your mistress of her shortcomings?"

I tilted my head. "That depends. She can always express her displeasure with a sound spanking."

She answered with a small sigh. "I'd love to, but I think we should really try to tone down our games until exams are over. Or we'll end up exhausted and distracted. Not to speak of a sore arm when I need to write for most of the day."

That image made me giggle. "It's going to be hard though."

"Not just for you." She slapped my bum. "Now make breakfast, slave, or you'll feel the cruel touch of the whip!"

"Promises, promises," I quipped and jumped from the bed, then remembered her rules. "Mistress?"

Anne had followed me and headed for the wardrobe. "Yes?" She asked over her shoulder.

"What about the rules? You know, crawling and being nude?"

She thought for a moment. "As much as I'd love to have you on all fours and see your pretty naked body, chances are too high that someone will stop by. All rules are suspended until Thursday."

"Oh. Okay." Somehow that left me dissatisfied, even though the conscious part of my brain was well aware that it would be both too risky and too much of a distraction. "You're probably right."

"Don't sound like someone just ran off with your favorite doll. Thursday's going to be around soon enough, and then we'll have all the time we want to play while we wait for results."

"I know. It's just that..." I cracked an egg and let it drip into the pan.

"That you've turned into a horny little minx, I'm quite aware of that."

"Hey, you turned me into that state, so don't blame me!" My protest was rather weak, and while I stirred the eggs, a sudden rush of warmth filled my heart. Up to now, I realized, I had quite often had to swallow my thoughts. Our new closeness had taken away that necessary layer of self-control and I could really say out loud whatever popped up in my head. Pushing the eggs onto the plates and pressing the button for two cups on the coffee machine, I allowed myself a moment to bask in that revelation.

The dash of crushed pepper almost went wide when two arms wrapped around me and Anne's whisper tickled my ear. "What's got that dreamy look onto your face?"

I leaned back against her. "You. Us. Being this close."

Her warm kiss on the nape of my neck made me shudder. "Hurry up, or I might eat you instead!"

She let go of me, and I couldn't stop the giggle. "I might just drop the plates to force your hand then."

That remark earned me a light swat on my buttocks, and I wiggled them in appreciation while I balanced the two plates and two cups of coffee to the table. Fetching some slices of bread, the butter and a jar of jam, I took my seat as well.

"What've you got tomorrow?" She asked me.

"Accounting first thing in the morning," I answered through a spoonful of eggs, "then psychology, and graphic design after lunch break. When will you presenting your fashion project?"

"Wednesday afternoon at three."

I saw her eyes twinkle when I mentioned her project. "You're going to rock it."

"I hope. When do you have your last exam?"

"Wednesday at twelve thirty. It's only creative writing, but I hope I have some creativity left by then."

She looked at me with a thoughtful expression. "You'll be finished before three then?"

"Yes, why?"

"Want to model the shoes?"

I stared at her. She had that hopeful look that small children carry when they look at a sweets box.

"I don't know. Is that allowed?"

That made her giggle. "Of course it's allowed, silly. Normally, we have someone from a lower year do the modelling, but the girl I asked, Marcie what's-her-name, has been nagging me to find a substitute anyway, something about starting holidays early."

"But," I tried finding a way out, "I've never modelled before."

"It's not really modelling, you'll just have to wear the shoes and walk up and down the room once, so they see that they fit and that the height of the heels works. It's really no big deal."

"Alright, I guess."

"Brilliant!" The way her face lit up swept away all misgivings I might still have had. "Know what, you could even help me be less nervous."

"How so?" I took a big gulp of coffee, but almost choked on it when she answered.

"Don't wear panties."

"You want..." I coughed a few times. "You want me to go commando in your exam? You're crazy!"

"I know I am." She grinned, and suddenly her bare foot was running up my shin, over my knee and along my thigh. "Then I could think about something else than failing the exam. Please!"

I tried; I really tried to resist the fluttering of her eyelids and the soft touch of her toes coming close to my pussy. I took in a deep breath and steeled myself. I opened my mouth to decline her plea. Then her big toe scraped hard over my pussy lips.

"Oh shit!"

"Say you will." Her toe parted my folds, and I couldn't believe she was touching me with it right there. I shuddered. This was supposed to be repugnant. But my legs spread on their own volition, and somehow my hips moved forward on the chair.

Her toe wiggled up and down. "Say you will, come on, do it!"

"Oh god," I moaned. "This is so fucked up. Okay, I will."

She put down her foot again and beamed at me while I tried to get back my composure.

"You're evil!" I couldn't help myself and stuck out my tongue.

"Oh, you ain't seen nothing yet, baby," she quipped in a husky voice and stared at me.

I looked right back into her eyes. Her lips twitched. Mine followed a second later, and suddenly we were both laughing like mad, without really knowing what it was about, but it worked for me in relieving the tension that had built up in my body.

I decided to indulge myself and put our dishes into the small dishwasher instead of washing them by hand, and then normality finally had us back in her clutches, each of us spread out among a sea of books in her own bed and trying to cram everything into our heads we should have learnt weeks or months ago. Anne went out for an hour and brought Chinese takeout, but I was so engrossed in trying to stuff account numbers, Latin words for human stereotypes, directions of eye movements and color schematics into my brain that I couldn't really say what it had tasted of. By sunset I was developing a headache, and Anne looked like she wasn't any better off, so we decided to call it a day.

After a long shower each and a simple dinner consisting of toasted flatbread and a green salad, we were once more snuggling up in my bed after I had licked her to another sweet and intensive orgasm.

"You sure you don't want me to reciprocate?" Her voice even held a bit of concern, and it warmed my heart.

"Completely sure," I purred and wiggled my back against her front side, pulling her arm tight around my upper body. "It just feels - right, I suppose. Just hold me."

"You're so sweet, love." She nibbled on my earlobe.

"Mhmm. I love you. Sleep well."

"You too."



A Bunny to Play With Ch. 09



Exams were, well, exams. Until I sat on the desk and started to write, my hands were clammy and my nerves all over the place. But the moment the tip of my pen touched the sheet for the first time, all that faded away and was replaced by a manic drive to squeeze as many words as I could onto the paper. Time flew by, and before I knew it, it was evening again and once more time to cram and get last minute jitters for Tuesday's subjects.

Anne and I hardly talked, each caught in our own world of study topics. But just as the day before, we crawled into my bed as soon as our eyes were blurring from all the reading, and I pleasured her without accepting my own relief. It wasn't something that I could put into words. Some basic need inside my heart wanted me to wait, and the surprise and warmth in Anne's eyes felt like a soft blanket around my soul. Perhaps it was just the exam stress that made me hopelessly romantic. I couldn't tell, and had neither time nor motivation to dwell on it.

Tuesday went by just the same, and then Wednesday morning's exams were done too, as was my creative writing exam which I had dreaded but found exhilaratingly easy - just a bunch of writing prompts one had to use in one way or another and identifying some stylistic elements and explaining them in a handful of text snippets - and I found myself in front of the door to one of the classrooms in the arts building, clad once more in the flimsy red dress just as she had asked me to, my hair still slightly damp from a quick shower, my panties left behind in the safety of our room. I knocked, albeit a bit hesitantly, and was asked to enter by a stern female voice.

The owner of the face was a woman in her late fifties, her greying hair done in a tight bun, who sat leisurely but with an elegance that belied her age sideways on one of the desks in the first row. Anne was busy pinning huge sketch sheets to wooden stands and gave me a short wave with one hand.

"You're Miss Summer's model?" The lady wanted to know and looked me up and down with an intensity as if she could see right through me.

"Uhm, yes, Ma'am," I stammered, suddenly feeling five inches smaller, "I'm Brittany Weston."

I had stopped halfway across the room, and she slowly stood up and stepped closer, and I noticed that she looked like the epitome of a British headmistress with the shimmering, dark grey skirt and frilly white blouse, her slightly upturned, aristocratic nose and her dark red lipstick. I could picture her in front of my mind's eye with a bamboo cane in her hand, towering behind an ill-mannered pupil who was draped over her desk and trembling in fear.

"I'm Professor Morgan, I'll be the main examiner, my colleagues Miss Eldridge and Professor Cresswater will be here shortly."

Her voice roused me from my kinky daydream. She stood right in front of me and had already extended her hand, and I tried my best not to blush. The way she looked at me, I was sure she could pluck my naughty thoughts right out of my head.

"Nice to meet you," I managed to stammer while I shook her hand.

"Please take a seat on one of the side desks while Miss Summers gives her presentation," she told me, not letting go of my hand, and I became increasingly aware of the softness of her skin and the strength in her fingers. "We will ask you to the front once that part is finished, and Miss Summers will then demonstrate how her project is to be worn. You will be asked to walk up and down the front row so we can see if the shoes lend themselves to a natural movement, but don't be surprised if you're asked to repeat that once or twice, this is in fact quite common." Her eyes roamed once more up and down my body. "Do you have any questions?"

"Uh, no, Ma'am." I cursed myself for acting like a ten year old and prayed that my nervousness wouldn't infect Anne.

She let go of my hand, and I instinctively looked down at it, rubbing over the now cooling spot where her thumb had rested.

"You may take a seat."

"Uh, sure." I really should. I was on the best way to make a spectacle of myself, and I had no clue why. I had to walk a half-circle around the professor, who was still watching me, and felt her eyes like little pinpricks on my skin. Finally, I sat down in the chair at the end of the row farthest from the door, and right at that moment the other two teachers entered the classroom and took their seats in the middle of the row with Professor Morgan between them. One of them, Miss Eldridge, could hardly be in her thirties and looked more like a student than a teacher in her designer jeans and flamenco blouse, and the other, Professor Cresswater, whom I'd had a year ago in drawing class, was a rather plump woman in a floral dress.

"Very well," the head examiner intoned, "now that we're all here, please begin, Miss Summers."

Anne was obviously nervous. Her first three sentences were rather hurried and sounded a bit clumsy. But she quickly caught herself, and once she was over the introductory part and went into describing which materials she picked and why and explained all the techniques she used to assemble the shoes, the words simply flowed out of her. Most of her explanations went miles over my head, but the sheer amount of details and thoughts behind that pair of shoes was stunning.

The professors, mainly Miss Morgan, asked some pointed questions here and there, but mostly let her do her presentation. I almost started to clap when Anne announced that this part was finished and nobody had further questions.

"Good, now let's see the practical application of the project." The way the corner of Professor Morgan's mouth twitched, I was sure she found the expression just as stupid as I did.

Once at the front, Anne asked me to sit down in a chair she had moved their. I tried to unbuckle my sandals, but she told me in a whisper to let her do it. Which felt quite strange under the watchful eyes of the three teachers, who had by then walked around the tables and were standing just a few feet away.

Anne slipped the first shoe onto my foot and made sure that each toe slipped into its leather bounds. It felt just like the first time she had done it, and I had to pull myself together with considerable effort to keep from closing my eyes and just enjoying the feel of her fingers brushing over my skin. She never stopped explaining while she did it, but I hardly caught a word. The straps went around my ankle and calf, and then my other foot was quickly adorned with its own shoe while the teachers whispered between themselves and made agreeing noises. I almost missed Anne's whispered question.

"Did you come without?"

I quickly nodded and bit my lip.

"Perfect," she whispered again, "good little pet."

And then I was walking down the room, four pairs of eyes following my every move, and I was praying that they couldn't see how wobbly my knees felt.

"Please turn around and walk back a bit faster, Miss Weston," Professor Morgan instructed me. I was really glad that I had already gotten used to the high heels on Saturday, or I might have stumbled in my nervous state.

"Please stop, Miss Weston."

I came to a standstill right in front of her.

"Do you have any more questions?" She asked her colleagues, who both declined. "Then, if you don't mind, Miss Eldridge, please bring our evaluation sheets to the faculty room while I help our last examinee for the day pack up. I'll be right along with her demonstration material."

They each scribbled something onto the sheets on their clipboards. Miss Eldridge collected the sheets, and she and Professor Cresswater left.

"Please sit down on the chair, I'll help you with the shoes," Professor Morgan instructed, and the moment I heard the words, I almost panicked. If she knelt down in front of the chair, she would be able to see that I wasn't wearing panties.

"Uh, no, it's okay, Professor, I can do that myself."

"But I insist, these are quite an interesting creation."

My eyes snapped towards Anne, but she just sent me a concealed nod, and so I lowered myself to the chair and extended my right leg into the waiting hands of the crouched-down professor.

The professor took her time. She held the heel with one hand, while the fingers of her other hand softly trailed the contours of the shoe. "A perfect fit," she remarked, "as if they were made for this pair of feet."

At first I thought I was imagining it. But when her fingertips didn't let up their stroking, only now touching my skin, tickling my instep, softly rubbing up and down my toes, I felt goose bumps race up my back. She looked up at me. I was aware of the way my chest heaved and my face was flushed. She smiled.

"Tell me, Miss Summers," she suddenly asked, "those ornaments on the metal bar, they are more than decoration, aren't they?" Her fingers opened the buckles while she waited for Anne to answer.

"They - they might have a more practical application, yes."

"And that application might be...?" She inquired while she slowly slipped the shoe from my foot and set it to the floor. Her hands didn't leave my foot, though. Her fingers were caressing it all over. I looked at Anne, and her face was just as heated as mine. Her teacher, her head examiner was coming onto me! "Miss Summers?"

Anne's voice was quiet. "They can be used to restrain her feet."

"Her feet?" A bit of amusement carried in the teacher's voice. She set down my foot and began to unbuckle the other. "And why would you want to restrain these pretty feet?"

I closed my eyes. My heart raced. Where was this going? I felt the leather slip from my foot and risked a glimpse, catching the older teacher looking right between my legs. A small gasp escaped my throat, too low for Anne to hear, but loud enough to put a delighted smile on professor Morgan's lips.

"It's - it's a game," Anne finally replied without much conviction.

"A game?" Professor Morgan's mouth twitched. "Interesting. If you stay in this area, I'd love it if you could visit me after term is finished, and show me how you play that game. Perhaps I could participate too."

My eyes turned to Anne, whose face was shifting between panic and excitement. Just like mine did, probably. Suddenly, a wide smile lit up Anne's face. "I'd love that," she exclaimed, "and Brittany would too, wouldn't you, bunny-ears?"

"I - of course I'd like that."

I thought I only blinked, but a moment later professor Morgan was standing next to Anne, handing a business card to her and asking her if all her materials were in the folding box on the desk. I put on my sandals again while she left with the box, and then we were alone in the classroom, just Anne and me, both of us high-strung, staring at each other.

I tried to say something, but I only managed a stupid "Oh," followed by an "oomph" when Anne pushed me back against the wall and pressed her mouth hungrily on mine. We kissed like mad, biting and pulling each other's lips when our tongues weren't duelling.

"Oh my god, that's hot," she whispered breathlessly into my ear,"I want to see her spank you over her knees!" Her hand ran up my thigh, crept under my skirt and pressed hard against my naked pussy. "Dirty girl," she whispered, "you're soaking wet!"

"Oh yes," I moaned, agreeing to the image of being punished by the strict older teacher and her assessment of my state of arousal. "Oh god, please, I need to come!" I was close; my repeated self-denial had obviously short-circuited my pleasure zones. The heat between my legs was mounting with an alarming rate, and a few more rubs of Anne's soft fingers would send me over the edge.

"Not yet!" She pulled her hand away, and I slumped back against the wall, jelly-legged and out of breath.

"Please," I groaned, "it's almost painful!"

"Perfect," she giggled, "that's how I want you. If you're a good girl, you get to come later."

I wanted to scream, at least for the first few seconds, until the raging inferno between my legs settled somewhat. Then I became aware that we were still in a classroom and the door wasn't even closed.

"Oh my god," I groaned, this time tinged with embarrassment. "What are you doing to me?"

"Me?" Anne chuckled. "I haven't done much here. It's mostly your own doing, and of course our interesting professor's."

"I don't think I can last much longer though. I think I'm going to explode the next time you touch me down there."

"Well, it's your own fault," she quipped and took my hand. "You could have had all the relief for your pent-up neediness you wanted. You declined it all by yourself."

There was no denying that. I hung my head, my cheeks flushed.

She grabbed my hand and pulled me from the classroom. "Hey, exams are over! It's time to party!"

I stumbled after her in a mad dash through the corridors, and somewhere along the way her exuberance became infectious. "No more school!"

"No more boring classes!" She echoed my sentiment.

"Party! Whoop!"

****

Once the door to our room was locked, we somehow ended up in a tangled mess of limbs across the carpet in the middle of our room, rolling around like kids and belying our age.I stole a few kisses from Anne, who alternated between groping and tickling me, and I finally ended up on my back, my girlfriend sitting across my stomach, bent over me and holding my hands above my head.

That's when, with tears of laughter in my eyes and giggles shaking my stomach, another realization hit me like a freight train and took my breath away in a very uncomfortable way. Suddenly the tears weren't those of laughter anymore, but it took Anne a moment to become aware that something was wrong with me.

"Bunnie?"

I looked up at her beautiful face, those cute, swollen lips, the needy look in her eyes, and a knot formed in my stomach.

"Bunnie?" The worry in her voice grew. "Talk to me! What's going on?"

I stared into her eyes and tried to find the right words for the sudden desperation that had gripped me. "I - we," I stammered rather unsuccessfully, "it's all going to end. I'm - I'm supposed to find a job close to home soon." I sniffed. "You're going to find a job too, and what will happen with us?"

The look with which she regarded me was filled with both wonder and compassion. Tears leaked from the corners of my eyes in a steady flow while we gazed at each other for long minutes, emotions swirling, rolling, billowing through the air like hot steam. She let go of my hands and caught my head between them, her thumbs tenderly brushing away the tears from my eyes.

"Oh you silly, silly little pet." She laid down her upper body on mine and started to cover my face with little kisses. "I'm not going to let you get away from me," she promised between most touches of her lips, "not ever. You'll stay with me, and we'll find a place together."

I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her as tight as I dared. "I haven't really saved any money," I confessed, the closeness of her body radiating a safety that I wanted to keep forever, "and I should have sent out applications a long time ago."

"That you should," she whispered into my ear. "Bad pet. You'll have to be punished severely for being this tardy."

She bit my lip and pulled with her teeth, making me whimper in response. "I'm going to make that pretty bum of yours glow red like the most beautiful sunset, time and time again. But promise me one thing!"

"Oh god, yes," I whispered. "Whatever you want."

"Stop worrying for now. We'll take care of it, and I promise you we'll make it work so we can stay together. But from now until Sunday, we're finally free of exams and school, and I want to enjoy that time with you."

"You're sure we'll find a way?"

"A hundred and fifty percent."

A smile tugged on my lips. "Okay. I promise."

"Good." She kissed me, deeply, and I squirmed in delight. "Are you up for some kinky fun tonight?"

"Always," I answered without thinking.

"Then how about that little poker game?"

My eyes shot wide open. "But I thought you didn't think much of Jason?"

Her giggle made me blush. "Who said anything about that big-headed jock?"

"But who else? Just us two?"

"No, there's going to be somebody else alright, but definitely not a stupid male. Do you trust me?"

"Of course, Mistress." There it was, slipping over my tongue without any conscious effort of my own.

"Then wait for the surprise. You might hate it at first, but I'm sure you'll quickly come around and get to enjoy it."

That sounded ominous. And exciting. "Okay," I whispered and gave her a peck on her lips. "Can we snuggle a bit, though?"

"Don't we already," she teased me.

"On the bed," I insisted with mock indignation. "Like proper girlfriends."

"Let's take a small nap," she agreed, "I can use one, now that my nerves are finally settling down."

****

Anne wouldn't tell me what she had planned for tonight, but when she sent me to the grocery for crackers, chips and a few bottles of cider I was sure that, whatever it was, it involved visitors. So I wasn't really surprised when I arrived back at seven and found our big cardboard box with the parlor games on the kitchen desk. I put my purchases next to it and walked into the bathroom, where she stood in front of the mirror, wrapped in a towel, brushing her air and looking as beautiful as ever.

"What's up for this evening?" I inquired, stepping close to her from behind, resting my chin on her shoulder and almost earning myself a hairbrush handle into the eye.

"I know I said no rules until Thursday. But you'll not minding starting up again a little early, do you?"

"How early?"

She put the hairbrush onto the sink and turned around, "Now." The gleam in her eyes that accompanied her words would have been enough to light up the room.

It clearly transported the message that there was something more ahead than just an evening of card games between us two. "I guess you won't tell me what's in store for tonight before I give you my answer?"

"You're guessing right." She grinned. "I don't want you worrying ahead of time. So what is it, yes or yes?"

"Okay, okay," I relented with a sigh. "You'll not let me say no anyway."

"Right again."

I tried to look exasperated, but the soft kiss she gave me quickly broke down my inner resistance. Her lips just felt so soft and warm, and the small tingles where they touched my own were just so delicate. Her kiss turned hungry, her tongue entered my mouth and suddenly my top was pulled over my head. I only broke the kiss for a second to extricate my arms from the garment, then I pressed my body, now nude from the waist up, against hers again. The skirt sailed to the floor a few seconds later, and then hands were gripping my buttocks and rhythmically pressing my crotch against hers.

"I want you so much," she whispered into my ear between little bites at my neck, "I want to have your naked body around every second of every day for the rest of my life, so I can kiss you and play with you whenever I want."

"I'd love that!" I could only whisper back. What a fantasy, never to wear clothes again.

"But first, there's something I've longed to do. Sit on the rug and spread your legs while I prepare everything!"

I almost blurted out a question, but at the last moment I remembered that the rules were active again and gingerly lowered myself to the rug. "Yes, Mistress."

She turned up the water in the sink and pulled a few items from the mirrored cabinet, but I couldn't see what they were from my position on the floor. She wrung out something under the streaming water, then closed the tap and turned around. The moment I saw her hands, her intentions became evident.

"Mistress?" I asked her a bit nervously.

"Yes, my pet?"

"Do we have to do that now? I've never done that before."

That made her giggle. "Gosh, don't look at me as if I'm about to cut off your leg. I'm going to shave you; millions of people do that every day."




A Bunny to Play With Ch. 09



I had to admit that my moment of apprehension was perhaps a bit over the top. "Sorry, Mistress, I guess it was the surprise."

"It's okay. But I'm reasonably sure that you'll love it."

And then she was kneeling between my legs, first rubbing a hot, moist washcloth over my pubes, then lathering me up with a walnut-sized dollop of shaving cream that seemed to multiply under her touch. Her fingers felt exquisite, and I couldn't stop myself from moaning every time they wandered over the fleshy parts of my pussy.

"You like it?"

"Mhmm," I confirmed, not trusting my voice.

"Then wait just a second." She wiped her fingers and took up the razor, one of those new, fancy looking things with exchangeable blades. She pushed down on a nub on the handle and a soft, humming noise became audible. She smiled. "I love that one myself, I'm sure you'll too."

She sat it down on my skin at the top of the cream-covered spot and gently drew it downwards. The blades vibrated, and a tingling feeling followed them, seemingly intensifying as soon as they got close to my pussy lips.

"Oh!" I said rather eloquently and felt the spot between my legs once more become a well of heat.

Anne took her time, carefully shaving over and around my most sensitive spot. Every touch felt like small sparks that made me quiver. She pulled my skin this way and that to make sure that she got every hair, her face filled with concentration. She even made me lift my legs, first one, then the other, to make sure she didn't miss anything, the lewd display that I made this way not helping to dampen of arousal.

Then she was done with the razor and I felt the warm washcloth once again.

"There, smooth like a baby," she declared with a grin and gently blew over my freshly shaven mound. "Let's see that the skin doesn't get irritated."

She picked up a plastic bottle and put whatever it was on her hand, then began to rub it onto my skin. It felt smooth. And really, really good. And it smelled like ripe berries, making my mouth water.

"Scented baby oil," she explained, but I had to strain my ears to understand, because the blood rushing through them from my arousal made it hard to concentrate.

"Oh yes," I murmured, my hips meeting her rhythmic touches. It felt like heaven, the way her fingers glided over the smooth skin.

"Tell me when you're about to come." Her fingers started to move faster, and my breath followed quickly along. I was still, even after our nap, a bit strung up from the scene in the classroom, and I was quickly nearing that same state again, my nipples already pointing outwards like needle tips.

Her middle finger sought out my clit, and she rubbed its full length over it. My breath hitched. "Oh god, yes, I'm going to come!"

No sooner had the hastily stammered words left my lips that her hand went away.

"Oh please," I begged. "Please don't stop!"

"But I want to," she told me with a mix of a playful pout and that sweetness that I had recently learned I couldn't resist. "I want to know that you're almost going crazy with arousal, and that I am the cause."

"You've already succeeded," I whined, "but I don't think I can stand any more. Please make me come, Mistress."

"Not yet. But I promise you that you'll get to come today."

I wasn't exaggerating when I told her that I thought it was all I could take. Yet, being denied that sweet release was somehow exciting, even if the way I let her control my pleasure frightened me a bit.

"Now hop into the shower," she commanded, "while I stow away the shaving utensils and get dressed. I'll put something on your bed for you to put on."

"Okay, Mistress," I acknowledged and stepped into the shower, turning up the water a touch colder than I normally used to.

****

Cooled down and refresh, I remembered at the last moment that walking wasn't supposed to be my means of movement while we were alone in the flat and crawled through the living room to my bed. A small gasp escaped my throat.

The outfit waiting for me was quite different from what I had expected. The underwear consisted of white cotton knickers and an equally white cotton bra, both adorned with garishly pink rabbits. They were, admittedly, cute, and I'd have probably gone crazy to have them seven years ago. Next to those waited an equally pink t-shirt that looked one size too small to me, and a pair of matching track pants.

"Hurry up, Bunnie," Anne admonished from her place on the couch where she was perusing her notebook computer, already dressed in a loose Miley Cyrus t-shirt and Levis jeans. "Our guests will be here any minute. You don't want to open the door nude, do you?"

"Of course not, Mistress," I answered probably a bit too hastily, and I wasn't sure if she had been able to notice the small shiver that ran along my spine for a second. I quickly slipped on the clothes.

The knickers were quite tight, and anyone looking at them would have easily noticed that there were no hairs hidden underneath. The bra was comfortable, if a bit tight as well, and the way it was cut, it compressed my boobies into the shape of ripe apples.The t-shirt wasn't any better, but it was made of some stretchy material, so I could wiggle my way into it, even if it ended a bit above my navel. Of course it sported a white, fluffy bunny on the chest. The pants were my size, so I did at least not have to worry about it ripping if I bent over. Then I noticed a pair of bunny slippers in front of the bed. Hesitantly putting my feet inside, I felt more like a sixteen year old before a sleep-over than my real age of twenty years.

I couldn't keep my opinion to myself. "You're crazy, Mistress."

"You're welcome," she answered with amusement. "Though you haven't seen anything yet. How do you feel?"

"A bit uncomfortable. The knickers are a bit tight, as is the bra."

"That's good, but I wasn't asking about that. Do you like the clothes?"

My insecure, "Uhm, not really?" was answered with a giggle.

"Let's get your makeup done," she commanded, putting away her computer and getting up from the couch.

I followed her back into the bathroom, where she picked a pink lipstick and had me purse my lips. After the lipstick, she applied a pink, glittering rouge to my cheeks and a matching eyeshadow. After a few flicks with the mascara, she added a pink hair band to my outfit and finished it with two pink clips that held back my bangs. She smiled widely at me and turned me around, so I could watch myself in the mirror.

My eyes widened. Everything about me was pink, and it made me look like a girl more than a woman, young and vulnerable and totally over the top.

"What do you think?"

"Don't I look a bit, uhm, youngish?"

"That's what I intended. I heard Sweet Little Sixteen on the radio this morning and somehow had to think of you. You'll get used..." A knock sounded at that moment, interrupting our conversation. "Why don't you open the door?" she asked, not intending it to be a question.

And so I found myself quite self-conscious about my appearance, opening the door and standing in front of two girls our age, both dressed as casual as Anne was, and immediately feeling even more nervous about myself.

"Uhm, hello," I stammered, my heart thumping, rooted to the spot and feeling a bit faint. One of them was Jackie, whom I shared a few classes with, and who had made those into a bit of a competition and always been looking for ways to belittle my work in front of the others from the first day. If I had to stick the label "enemy" onto one of my classmates, it would be her. I didn't know what I had done to offend the redhead, but she had been a constant pain in my ass for the whole four years.

The corners of her mouth lifted upwards into a sneering grin the moment she spotted me. "Oh my," she gasped, "aren't you the cutest bunny today?"

My cheeks went up in flames, and I looked down at the floor.

"Can we come in?" Her black-haired friend, a girl I had seen around a few times but didn't share classes with and so didn't know the name of, reminded me that I was blocking the entrance.

"Uhm, sure," I said, shuffling to the side. "Come in."

I watched the two of them enter the room and closed the door behind them, wondering what deviousness Anne had concocted. I knew that she got on better than me with Jackie, but they were hardly friends. So the only possible reasons those two were visiting tonight had either be that Anne had invented Jackie's friend, or that she wanted to use Jackie for something embarrassing for me. She was aware of the bad chemistry between us, so my bet was on the latter. That suspicion was quickly confirmed.

"Jackie, Brenda," my girlfriend greeted both of them, "so good that you could make it. I hope you're ready for a nice game of poker. We've got few ciders here, too, so it won't get dull."

"We're game," Jackie answered her, and I thought I recognized a small strain in her voice, "I hope that whatever surprise you've got planned is a got one."

"It will be," Anne was completely unconcerned, "I promise. Will you fetch some ciders from the fridge, Bunnie, while I get the cards and chips?"



A Bunny to Play With Ch. 10



Half an hour later we were settled around the coffee table with Jackie and Brenda lounging comfortably on the couch, Anne on the armchair and myself a little less comfortably on the ottoman, all with cards in our hands and stacks of colored plastic chips in front of us. I was just struggling with myself whether I should fold immediately or wait out the first round to see what the others were doing, and I critically eyed my pair of tens when Anne's foot tapped mine twice.

My eyes widened, but the look that she sent me told me that the signal was deliberate. I gulped. That had been part of the harebrained scheme to put those photos into Jason's possession. The glass of the pictures on the wall sometimes allowed Anne to glimpse the cards of our co-players, and our plan was that she'd signal me with a single tap on the foot to fold, twice to raise, and thrice to go all in. That way we could make sure that I lost and, once I had no chips left, could offer the photos and myself into the wager.

"C'mon, Bunnie," Jackie had already adapted the use of my nickname, though it dripped from her lips in a condescending fashion, "either fold or raise. I've still got a party to attend tonight."

"Okay, okay." My fingers trembled a little when I picked up a small stack of chips and pushed them forward. "I raise by fifty."

"I'll gladly meet that." Brenda added her own fifty as did Jackie, while Anne folded. After another round of betting, I had a hundred and twenty in chips waiting to be collected by the winner.

With Anne's hidden commands, it didn't take very long to get me rid of my chips, all the while being teased and riled up by Jackie's snide comments about my playing skills. I couldn't really say why I was playing along, why I was sitting here with flaming cheeks and feeling more silly and embarrassed with every round we played. Jackie and Brenda were having a good time, sipping their ciders, their stacks of chips constantly growing while mine dwindled to nothing.

"I'm broke," I finally had to announce, "you'll have to go on without me."

"Oh, that's too bad," Anne complained, "we'll have to find something else for you to bet."

"Hey, she lost fair and square," Brenda protested, "so she's out."

"Come on," Anne sighed, "don't be a spoilsport. How about we let her bet an item of clothing for every, let's say, twenty in chips?"

So that was her plan - to get me naked in front of my arch-enemy. And to have them see these juvenile bunny-adorned undergarments.

"It's okay." I quickly tried to wiggle my way out. "I'll just stay out and watch you play."

"No, it's not okay," Anne insisted, "if Jackie and Brenda agree, you can bet your clothes..." And with a whisper only targeted for me she added, "...Bunny-ears."

"And why should we agree to that," Jackie wanted to know, a measure of derision in her voice. "After all, we're not guys, why would we want to see her starkers?"

Anne's eyes got that glint I was quickly becoming accustomed to. "For one, because it would really embarrass her. You've always enjoyed getting one over her, didn't you, Jackie?" Before the so addressed could respond, she added, "And for two, I've seen you two behind the gym, as well as watched you ogle Bunnie's bum in the cafeteria."

Both Jackie and Brenda stiffened, their faces losing their color.

"Hey, don't worry," Anne tried to soothe them, "we won't tell if you won't tell."

And then she was suddenly behind me, her arms encircling me, her lips nibbling on my earlobe. I had to use all of my inner strength not to moan at the sweet, unexpected caress.

"Be a good girl," she whispered into my ear, "and play along."

My skin felt like it was about to go up in flames, tingling all over, and the feeling intensified when she started to trace the outline of my lips with her index finger while her other hand started to rub my breast. Both girls were now watching us avidly, and I somehow couldn't turn away my eyes when their faces cycled through uncertainty, surprise, interest and finally excitement. Then Anne's finger demanded entrance into my mouth, and I allowed it, wrapping my lips around it and starting to suck on it.

"Oh my god," Jackie exclaimed with wide eyes, "I would have never expected her to swing that way, the way she was always trying to appear so prim and proper."

Anne giggled. "She herself would have neither if you had asked her a week ago. Turns out, she is quite the little lesbian slut. Aren't you, bunny-ears?"

Her words felt like a hot flood wave, washing over me and pulling me from my feet. Being called a lesbian slut in front of the two almost-strangers! My mind started to spin.

"Aren't you?" Anne prodded me.

"Oh god," I murmured so only Anne could hear me. "Yes!" I said, but it turned into a moan when my girlfriend's fingers pinched my nipple.

"And how many pussies have you licked in the last seven days?"

"Three," I whispered, but the two girls, I was guessing from their giggles, had understood me nonetheless.

"Wow," Jackie finally voiced her opinion. "That's fast. And she appears to be quite the submissive."

"She is," my girlfriend confirmed, not stopping her ministrations to my nipple and keeping me in a state of utter arousal this way, "I haven't yet found anything that was too much for her, and I've not gone easy on her."

"Perhaps we should stop with the rigged poker game then," Brenda suggested, "and switch to a different game."

"What do you have in mind," Anne inquired.

"How about 'lick her while we slap her'?"

My head swiveled around from one to the other. I should have expected that this evening would end with a sore bum for me, after last weekend's exploits, but this quick development took me by surprise, especially when Anne happily agreed.

So it wasn't more than a minute later that I found myself slowly undressing in front of our guests, my fingers shaking like mad, their gazes burning hot trenches into my skin. When I pulled away my bra and exposed my erect nipples, I thought this might be one of the most embarrassing moments of my life, but then I pushed down my pants and found the front of my knickers soaked and almost see-through.

"Nice pussy," Brenda commented, "and she's quite the horny little bugger."

I didn't look at her when I pushed down my knickers and stepped out of them, feeling more awkward doing so than I had ever before.

"Yes, really nice." Jackie agreed and turned towards Anne. "Have you spanked her there already?"

"Not really, but I had her wear paper clips for a few hours."

"Paper clips? Those small little wire thingies?"

"No, the big ones. Why don't you fetch them for us, Bunnie, they are still in my purse."

Anne was looking directly at me when I turned around, and I could read the challenge in her eyes. My whole body turned into a big, shameful flush as I slowly sunk to my knees and started to crawl across the floor towards her nightstand. Getting naked in a hall full of strangers was one thing, but Jackie knew me, and the embarrassment this gave me was on a wholly different level with her ogling my nude body.

It was intense to crawl across the room and fetch the implements Anne and the others had tortured me with. And I loved every second of it, feeling my stiff nipples dangle underneath me and giving my bum an extra wiggle while their eyes followed my movements.

Once back, I knelt upright and held the clips up on my outstretched palm.

"Oh my," Jackie commented, "those do look mean."

"They are." My agreement was heartfelt.

"Why don't you show Jackie how they look on your pussy, so she can see for real how mean or not they are?"

I swallowed. Then I took a deep breath and picked the handles of one clip with my right hand, extending it towards my pussy.

"No, no," Anne stopped me, "give her a close-up view."

So I shuffled around the edge of the table, aware of the spectacle I was making of myself, until I was right in front of her.

"Stand up and put them on, but do it slowly." Anne's voice now had a husky undertone. It was obvious to everyone how much she enjoyed making me follow her orders. I got to my feet, afraid that my shaking knees might let out, but somehow I could control my nerves, and quickly enough I was standing upright, my feet shoulder-width apart and my crotch almost level with Jackie's eyes, eyes that looked at me with a hunger and greed that made me shiver.

I fumbled a bit as I tried to put one clip onto my left labia, the slick, swollen piece of flesh trying its best to escape my clumsy fingers, and my cheeks reddened once more. But with a bit of effort I managed to make it stick, the momentary pain when I let go of the handles forcing a sharp intake of air from me, the sound mirrored with a delighted gasp from Jackie. The second paper clip went on at the first go, and then I stood in front of my high-school nemesis, naked and with a thumping heart. I felt like a slut, exposing myself willingly to her like this, and the small level of pain mingled with the shame became like a magic spoon that stirred up the juices between my legs.

Jackie bent closer, until her gleaming eyes were only a few inches from my dripping snatch. "Don't those hurt somewhat fierce, Bunnie?"

"Not really," I managed to tell her while I fought down a low moan. "They are worse when I walk, and outright torturous when someone twists them, but they are quite bearable in the beginning if I stay still."

"Twist?" The redhead inquired, looking behind me towards Anne and then staring up at me with a grin that made my breath hitch. "Like this?"

Her fingers gripped the clips and turned both of them sharply. I might have thought that my labia were desensitized after Saturday's events, but I had no such luck.

Tears instantly sprang to my eyes, and I had to fight with all my power to keep upright while I waited for Jackie's fingers to let go of them again, which she didn't. She instead looked at me like a child that had been told Christmas had come early, and when the first salty sign of suffering rolled down my cheek, she licked her lips and sighed pleasantly.

"My gut feeling had been right all along," she commented with a slightly dreamy expression, "I should have pursued her back then. Well, what's done is done."

"Pursued her?" Anne wanted to know more.

The pain between my legs was steadily mounting, and my cheeks were getting wetter every second in a replay of the weekend's happenings.

"When we started school here, four years ago and us all being sweet little sixteen, I was sure that she was submissive, the way she blushed so prettily and looked almost ready to fall to her knees every time I needled her in class. At the beginning, I thought that she might swing for our team, or at least both ways, but then her eyes seemed glued to some of the jocks all the time, so I looked somewhere else."

"And a good thing that was," Brenda chimed in, only to be waved off.

"One doesn't have to do with the other. You're not submissive, and just imagine the fun we could both have with a little pet to play with."

"You're probably right," the black-haired girl answered with a thoughtful expression while she shuffled closer to her friend. "I've never tried that bondage and submission stuff, but from what I've heard and read, it sounds intriguing."

"It is." Jackie thankfully let go of the clips when she wrapped her arms around her girlfriend and kissed her.

A second later, both had their arms around each other, their lips meeting hungrily. It looked hot like hell, and while I watched them, Anne's arms went around my waist and small kisses covered the side of my neck, making me tilt my head to the other side and give small moans of pleasure.

"Do you like my surprise so far?" she wanted to know.

Her fingernails trailed tickling lines from my hips to the top of my thighs, and the gasps made answering almost impossible for me. I leaned back against her and sighed. "Oh yes," I confessed, "I like it. But I feel so... slutty."

"And you'll feel even more so when the evening's done," she giggled softly into my ear while her fingers gave the clips on my pussy lips small flicks that made me tremble, "when you've licked all three of our pussies and your bum glows red."

"Speaking of which," Jackie intercepted Anne's verbal seduction, one hand buried inside her girlfriend's jeans, "how about that game now?"

"No time like the present," my lover immediately agreed, "we can start at once. Who wants to experience my pet's tongue first?"

"I've been dying to feel her pretty mouth between my legs for years now," Jackie growled, not waiting for an answer, her fingers already busy lifting the hem of her t-shirt, "I want to see if its as good as I imagined."

The soft pressure of Anne's hands on my shoulders guided me down onto my knees again, and then, without needing prompting, I was helping my former enemy, who was now becoming something else that I couldn't put a word to, undress, carefully slipping the red Doc Martens from her feet, then rolling down her socks. She opened the fly of her jeans herself and wiggled them over her bum, then let me pull them down her legs, shapely ones at that, I noticed, just as well-trained as Anne's, but with a little more flesh and less of a tan.

She wore a neon green thong, a rather flimsy piece of fabric that barely covered her pussy, leaving a good measure of the neatly cropped strip of red hair above it visible. The colors contrasted nicely, and I couldn't stop myself from licking my lips.

"Pull them down with your mouth," she commanded once I had folded her jeans and put them on the table, her voice dropping almost an octave and getting that smoky timbre of arousal. I didn't hesitate a second, bending forward and catching the upper hem between my teeth. I gasped when I moved too quickly and the clips dug into my soft skin, but spreading my feet a bit wider alleviated the pressure, and my upper lip and nose touched Jackie's skin. I pulled down the thong, careful not to capture any of her pubic hair between my teeth, while she raised her butt from the couch to allow it to slide down. Just when the fabric had exposed her pussy lips to the air, she lightly clamped her legs together. This halted my movement, my nose right above her slit, and I couldn't evade taking a deep breath and smelling her musky scent of arousal.

She giggled, aware that her deliberate action had been successful. "Breathe deeply, you'll all too soon be tasting that. I hope you like it," she purred, and then made my cheeks tingle with shame when she continued, "but it's really not that important whether you do, you'll lick me either way, won't you?"

And to my embarrassment I didn't even have to think, I just nodded, the tip of my nose dipping between her folds as I did so, which made her giggle again.

Her bum slid to the edge of the couch and she relaxed her legs again, allowing me to pull the tiny piece down and off her feet, though she wiggled them a bit to make it not all too easy for me, which at the same time forced me to breathe in the air close to her feet. I thanked god they weren't smelly.

"Who's going to do the honors?" she inquired.

"Can I," Brenda immediately pleaded, "I've always wanted to know how slapping a bottom feels?"

"I don't mind," Anne agreed, "but I want to see a bit more of you. And I'll watch how you do it, as I don't want her permanently harmed and there's a fine line between painful and dangerous."

I was listening to the two of them and watched Brenda get up from the couch, so I was taken by surprise when Jackie caught my head between her hands and pulled me forward.

"Start licking," she commanded, "but keep your tongue away from my clit now."

Her pussy lips were quite a bit thinner than Anne's, in fact rather narrow compared to all others I had seen in my short time as a lesbian, and they parted easily from the slight spreading of her legs alone. Her inner lips were long, rather straight and deeply red, giving the impression of rose petals. I carefully put my tongue against the bottom of her slit and licked upwards, taking my time to take in the taste of her skin and to revel in the small shivers that ran up and down my back. She tasted different at first, not as sweet as Anne or Bao, rather carrying a more earthy taste. But it wasn't unpleasant at all, and I eagerly dove in for another lick.

Then a hand started to rub my bum cheeks. "You don't need to use brute force, it's the repetition rather than the force that does the work," Anne's voice explained. "Just make sure that you can feel her bum wiggle, then you're doing it right. Shall I show you?"

"Yes, please."

My tongue was about to delve between her aroused folds at that moment, and I paused, anticipating the stinging slap. But instead of that, Jackie's fingers buried themselves in my hair and pulled my face even closer.

"Don't stop," she growled, "whatever happens, you don't stop until I've had my release."

"Yes, Ma'am," I said, or tried to, my lips pressed against her pussy, and stuck out my tongue, her aroma instantly coating it, musky and earthy and a bit bitter. I heard the slap before I felt the impact, but when I did, my body jerked forward and my tongue buried itself deep inside Jackie's pussy. The small yelp that escaped my throat was muffled. She hadn't struck all that hard, so the spot where Anne had hit me quickly turned from stinging to feeling warm. Slap. Another one hit me, this time my other cheek, and I managed to keep up my tongue's motion, licking a trail over Jackie's inner labia and hearing her satisfied sigh.

This was so surreal, and yet it felt so completely right, as if I had been born to kneel between a woman's legs and pleasure her, framed by her thighs and held in place by the fingers still entangled in my hair. Another slap hit me, a bit lighter than the two before, and I guessed that it was now Brenda's turn.

Her delighted giggle confirmed that. "I see what you mean about the wiggling. Like this..."

Another slap, a little more forceful, and my bum cheek filled up with delicious heat. I sucked a bit of Jackie's labia between my lips and let my tongue play with it, the small gasps of delight indicating that I was doing it right.

A whispered conversation started behind me, then the slaps started to fall more quickly, only a second or two apart, alternating between both bum cheeks and filling the air with their sounds. The faster rhythm kept my skin from cooling down again, and while I sucked and licked on the redhead's pussy, the stinging feeling of the impacts on my bottom increased steadily. Small moans and whimpers started to escape my throat.

"Fuck, yes," Jackie growled and drew up her legs. "Suck harder, slut!" Her hand pushed my head forcefully down and I followed her command, sucking and nibbling on her pussy for all it was worth, smearing my face with her juices as I did so.

My breathing was coming fast by now. The slaps got increasingly painful. I had initially thought they were little more than love-taps, and that I could take an hour of them without problems. A few minutes were enough to change my mind, because the heat had made room for a deep ache that was only interrupted by a sharp, momentary sting every time Brenda's hand impacted on my skin.

Jackie's lower body was trembling under my touches, and a look at her face showed that her eyelids were drooping and her lips forming nonsense words, interrupted with gasps and moans. "Now," she growled, her teeth clenching and her hips rocking when I stuck my tongue deep into her pleasure tunnel. "Suck my clit! Now!"

Her clit was small, but ripe with arousal, and when I wrapped my lips around the small pebble and started to suckle, she rewarded me with a small cry of delight. And another when I repeated it.

She was sweating by now, small beads dancing on her forehead, her head going from one side to the other and back, and I was sweating too, the heat having spread from my backside all over my skin. A particularly vicious slap hit me, Brenda's fingers brushing the sensitive spot at the top of my thighs, and I sucked harder than I had planned.




A Bunny to Play With Ch. 10



Jackie's thighs closed around my head, and for a moment I feared that I had hurt her. But then her stomach started to ripple and growls started deep in her throat, becoming louder and louder, and then I felt spurts of liquid shoot into my mouth.

I coughed, choking a bit and struggling for the little air I could get, my face pressed against her body like this.

Jackie's body relaxed, her legs slid to the ground, and a long sigh from her told me that she had enjoyed her experience. Brenda had stopped her spanking, but even though it had really started to hurt by now, it left me aroused and unfulfilled.

"Look at that, her pussy is dripping!" Brenda's exclamation startled me out of my needy bliss. I was glad that the flush on my skin prevented my face from taking on a deeper hue.

The finger that delved into my moist spot made me gasp out loud though.

"Be careful," Anne's voice warned, "she hasn't come since Saturday, so she's probably on a hair trigger; don't set her off."

The finger withdrew, accompanied with a small whine on my part.

"Whose pussy is going to be next?" Brenda wanted to know.

Anne looked her up and down and sighed over-dramatically. "I guess yours. The way you're eyeing her, your own pussy might drain you dry otherwise."

That elicited a laugh from Jackie. "You don't know how right you are, she's got a hell of a fluid generator between her legs. When we started dating, she had to change her panties every few hours because they were soaked through. One horny vixen my girlfriend is."

"Let's see what we've got to work with," Anne declared with a giggle and stepped closer to Brenda, looking her directly into the eyes and slowly lifting the hem of her t-shirt. I could see the excitement in the face of Jackie's lover and in the way her chest started to rise and fall rapidly. Anne took her time, but finally she pulled the t-shirt over Brenda's head and exposed a bra-less upper body, curvy, milky white skin and a pair of breasts that were simply huge, far bigger than her loose top let on.

"Nice," Anne whispered and threw the t-shirt to the side, then let her hands roam over the two orbs. I wondered for a moment if they might be artificial, but they had just enough slightly drooping imperfection to convince me that they were natural. The most fascinating thing about them were her nipples - two long, thick rods sticking out from cone-shaped areolas, almost twice the diameter of a half dollar coin. I had always found the word "teats" for female anatomy offensive in erotic literature, but this was the word that immediately sprung to my mind, and my mouth watered.

While I was transfixed with Brenda's breasts, Anne had already started to unbuckle her Jeans and was now pushing them down her legs, exposing fleshy thighs with the same creamy white, almost alabaster-like skin and a big, heart-shaped butt partly covered in fire engine red sports panties with a wide black elastic waist band. Brenda leaned on my girlfriend's shoulder, kicked off her shoes and let her pull the trousers over her feet, her face losing some of the self-assuredness as more of her was exposed.

Anne stood upright again, and with a look at Brenda's crotch, she voiced her impressions. "Wow, that's one hell of a stain there." Her fingers rubbed over the front of the red panties and made Brenda's hips jerk to meet her touch. "I can see what Jackie means. And I love your tits."

She looked directly into Brenda's eyes while she pushed down the girl's panties, inch by inch. Both of them appeared flushed. I could smell her arousal the moment the black-haired girl's crotch was uncovered, heady and strong. Anne let them drop the last foot to the ground as soon as they were below the knees, and she once more touched Brenda's crotch, who moaned and stepped out of her panties on shaky legs.

"Wow!" Anne exclaimed once more and held up her hand, sticky with the sign of Brenda's arousal, the juices forming small strands when she spread her fingers. "Come here, Bunnie, there's some yummy girl-honey for you to taste."

So I crawled closer, until I was just an arm's length from Brenda's nude body - not completely nude, mind you, because she was still wearing yellow socks - and could smell her aroma even more intensely. From close-up, she appeared quite more rounded that I would ever had thought possible, she was probably carrying more than twenty pounds too much on her frame, but it was distributed evenly. She wasn't beautiful in the classic sense, but the weight added a sensuous and even slightly intimidating note to her pretty, if a little strong-jawed, face.

Anne positioned her fingers in front of my mouth, and I opened it wide and let her push them inside, almost getting overwhelmed by the strong taste that filled me. If that had been my first taste of pussy, I'd probably have pulled back. But the familiar base of the taste seemed to trigger the memories of my adventures, the arousal in my body immediately getting ramped up again, and so I began to slurp and lick the sticky moisture from my lover's fingers.

"Can we do this a bit differently?" Brenda wanted to know.

Anne, fingers still buried in my mouth, appraised her. "What do you have in mind?"

"I've always wanted to sit on a girl's face, you know, not just hovering my slit above her face, but really rough. I've seen a few movies on the internet, and I'd love to try that."

"I don't know." Anne appeared to think only for a moment, then she grinned down at me and withdrew her fingers from my lips with a slurping sound. "If your enthusiasm at sucking on my fingers is anything to go by, our little pet would like that too, don't you?"

Hell, I thought to myself, if this kept on, my blush might become a permanent fixture. "Yes," I answered a bit timidly under my girlfriend's expectant stare, "I'd like that." And I meant it, even if I was more than a little fearful about it. Jackie was a known entity, but Brenda seemed to have a mean streak inside her that she was only barely letting surface.

"How do we do it?" Jackie wanted to know. "I mean, this needs a bit of room and we want to spank her again."

Anne grinned. "Let's clear the coffee table, it's sturdy enough for that."

The drinks and poker utensils were quickly stowed away on the sideboard, then Anne sent me to fetch one of the thick cushions that lined the side of my bed while she went over to the kitchenette and pulled something out of a drawer. My crawling reminded me painfully of the paper clips still attached to my labia, and with the cushion in one hand on my way back, I accidentally squeezed my legs together a few times, sending sharp stings through my pussy that drew forth small whimpers.

"Good pet!" Anne praised when I was back, and patted my head, taking the dark red cushion from me and placing it in the middle of the table. "Stand up, pull in your stomach and put your arms at your sides."

I did so, and when she brought her left hand to her front, I recognized the roll of plastic wrap. She unrolled a good foot of wrap, held the end against my stomach and asked Brenda to hold it in place. Then she went around me, slowly unrolling more and and more of the thin, flexible material, pulling it tight and carefully pressing it against the layer already there. Around and around she went, slightly alternating in height, each layer pressing my arms more tightly against my sides. It felt a bit like I imagined a corset would, preventing me from inhaling with normal ease. Finally, a good number of layers were around my midriff, clinging to each other and making me unable to move my arms the tiniest bit and, as I found out when Anne told me to sit down on the edge of the coffee table, preventing me from bending my upper body.

Then she told me to lie back, a simple task for which I nonetheless needed assistance. Jackie and Brenda were quickly there to help, the former gripping my shoulders hard and guiding my body backwards while Brenda pushed the cushion under my head.

I thought that might be it, but Anne wasn't done with the plastic wrap. She pulled up my left leg, told me to bend it as far as it would go, then used layers of wrap to bind my calves to my thighs, making it impossible for me to get off the table on my own or to strike out my legs. It was simple but devious, and when the defenseless situation sunk in, my breathing quickened.

I was tightly bound, unable to escape and subject to every depraved or painful thing that came across their minds. A little voice inside my head cheered in delight.

"Okay, Brenda," Anne declared, "let's get the second round started."



A Bunny to Play With Ch. 11



"Are you ready, Bunnie?" The amusement in Anne's voice was obvious; she knew me well enough to be certain about my answer. Brenda crawled onto the coffee table from behind me, and her body cast a shadow over me.

"Yes, Mistress."

Then Brenda's knees were at the sides of my body and her pussy right above my waiting mouth. It was as fleshy as I had imagined, her inner labia sneaking out between her outer lips, and small strands of her moisture stretched between her petals and betrayed her arousal. Ever so slowly she lowered her body, filling my vision with that of her dripping snatch and her wide bum.

My lips touched the spot between her legs, and I felt her testing her position. She put a bit more weight on me, and for a short moment I almost panicked. What I hadn't anticipated was that this trapped my nose between her buttocks and brought it quite close to her rear entrance, at the same time making breathing even harder for me than it already was with the tight wrap constricting the movement of my stomach and chest.

"Lick," she ordered, the words muffled by her body.

I extended my tongue and let it slide over her pussy a few times. The aroma was even headier than when I had sucked Anne's fingers clean. Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through my pussy, totally unexpected, and I wailed, although Brenda's pussy worked like a gag, quenching most of the sound. It appeared to do something to the girl riding my face though, because her hips jerked down a few times and I could hear her moan.

"So," Anne commented, "the clamps are off, let's give her a good hiding."

I couldn't see what was happening, so I focused on working my tongue as deep into Brenda's slick folds as I could and wiggling it around. The small shivers and the contractions in her love tunnel guided me in my endeavor, and I didn't even let myself get distracted when hands grabbed my knees and pushed them back and to the sides until they rested against my upper body, and until my bum cheeks were pulled taut and lifted from the table.

But then the first slap fell hard on my left bum cheek. Perhaps it was because I was already sore from the spanking before, or because the skin of my bottom was pulled so tight in this position, but it stung like hell and made me cry out. It was immediately followed by another on my right cheek, and before I could get back my breath, another. And another. Loud smacks, eager moans and my own muffled yelps soon filled the room. The blows alternated between my bum cheeks, and from the speed with which they fell, Anne and Jackie had to be working together.

"Oh god, that looks so kinky!" Brenda moaned. "Yes, give it to the slut!"

Her weight lifted a bit, which startled me, but I used the opportunity to take in a few deep, unhindered breaths. Then her hips started to jerk back and forth, and she increased the weight that rested on my face again. She was humping my face! Licking her was kinky, but this felt sort of humbling, like being an object instead of a person. Her movements became wider and she rubbed her juices all over my face, covering my nose and chin with the sticky, musky smelling fluid.

My backside was starting to burn fiercely, and I could feel every slap travel along my thighs and stomach and collect in that burning fire pit between my legs. My brain quickly shot down under the overflow of sensations and emotions. The inability to move, the way Brenda was using my face like a sexual toy and the burning pain in my backside made me feel like a small leaf that was dancing on waves in the middle of a thunderstorm. I could do nothing but lie there, my face wet with a mix of tears and girl-juice, and take it.

Brenda suddenly stopped her motions, and the two others followed along. I wondered what was happening, as even in my sexual, pain-filled haze, I was sure that she hadn't climaxed yet. They whispered something, followed by giggling, and her body slid forward so her pussy was about chin level to me. "Lick my ass, slut," she commanded, and my breath hitched.

Using my tongue to pleasure her pussy was one thing. But the thought of licking over that forbidden part of her body was far outside anything I would have imagined, and I tried to shake my head. Brenda noticed it though, because she lifted her bum away from my face.

"Seems she doesn't want to," she complained to Anne, "can't you make her?"

Anne stepped around the table, and when I looked at her face, I could see concern mixed with a strict, commanding expression.

"You don't want to lick her bum hole?"

"No, Mistress," I quickly gasped out.

"Well," she sighed, "that's too bad. I really, really want to see you display how depraved you are by running your soft little tongue around Brenda's stinky hole. You know what? I'll let you choose. You can either lick her asshole or, to make up for refusing the order, have your pussy slapped instead of your bum."

My eyes widened. "My pussy slapped?" I voiced my disbelief out loud. She wouldn't do that, would she? But the glint in her eyes told me that this wasn't an idle threat.

"You've got three seconds to decide."

I thought feverishly. Licking Brenda's ass, or having my pussy slapped? One sounded as kinky as the other. But I had already experienced pain in my pussy, and not come out worse for it. I opened my mouth to choose, but right at that moment two fingers - they had to be Jackie's - forcefully pushed their way into my love tunnel, driving all air from my lungs in a long, shuddering gasp. Her giggling told me that she had done it on purpose.

"Too bad," Anne shrugged, "if you can't decide, it will be both for you, bunny-ears."

I wanted to protest, but the phrase seemed to pull a lever in my head. This was her game, her secret code-word. And with it came that deep-rooted need to please her. I swallowed hard and whispered demurely, "Yes, Mistress!"

A second later, my vision was once more filled by Brenda's wide backside, and I tentatively extended my tongue and licked a soft trail up in her cleft. When it made contact with the soft, lightly rippled skin of her pucker, she purred. That's when the first slap fell onto my pussy lips. It wasn't that painful at first, and I realized that it wasn't the impact of a hand but something softer and more pliable. Leather? A belt? The second slap, though, drove any thoughts from my mind, lighting up my pussy with agony.

I let out a high-pitched scream against Brenda's bum hole, but that came out as a muffled whine and only seemed to inspire them, because she growled and moaned above me while the slaps started to fall faster and faster. But even though it hurt like hell and I couldn't control my sobs and cries of pain, the sexual heat between my legs only grew more intense with every cruel thwack from the leather.

The expressions of passion from the girl above me grew louder and louder, and suddenly she bent forward and pressed her pussy over my mouth, her thighs trembling, her fingers digging painfully into my hips. Then her hips jerked hard, and I was glad for the cushion under my head while torrents of her juice gushed from her sex. Her body sagged down onto mine, her thighs framing my head, while she fought to get back her breath.

"Wow," she finally exclaimed, "that was one hell of a kinky number. I didn't think it would feel that good." She pushed her body up and crawled backwards.

To say I was sweaty was an understatement. My whole body was covered with a thick sheen of perspiration, and the parts under the plastic wrap felt as if they'd spent an hour in a steam cooker.

"She looks adorable!" Jackie was grinning widely. "Her hair is stuck to her head as if she has run a marathon. Must have really taken something out of her. And look at that pussy!"

I hadn't done so yet, but after her words, I lifted my head and risked a glance at my tortured sex. What I saw made me swear. My still smarting pussy lips were thickly swollen, even more than that one time I had gotten into my head to ride into town and back on a classmate's too big racing bike with the thin plastic saddle. The two strips of flesh had taken on a dark red hue, and I could clearly see where the term 'plum' came from. It looked obscene.

Meanwhile, Brenda had ambled over to her girlfriend and kissed her hard on the mouth. "I see what you meant about having a pet," she purred, "we'll definitely have to look into getting one."

They kissed again, and when Anne started to unwrapped my right leg, Jackie gave a loud sigh. "Anne, would you mind if we call it an evening? This was quite intensive, and I think my girlfriend and I have a few ideas to run against each other."

"Not at all," my girlfriend waved the concern away, "it was more intense than I had originally planned, and I believe Bunnie can use some cuddle time too. It was nice having you over, maybe we can repeat that?"

"We'd love to," Jackie answered for the both of them, her head resting on Brenda's shoulder and both hands softly caressing her girlfriend's breasts, "just give us a call or drop by. Thanks for this evening, it was brilliant."

Anne had finished unwrapping my other leg by now, and I let them down to the ground again, groaning as the muscles and joints protested after being held immobile for so long. "Ouch," I whimpered once my feet were firmly on the floor, "that hurt."

Anne giggled. Then she stood in front of me, linked her hands behind my neck and pulled me upright into a sitting position. Both visitors watched me with mirth.

The layers around my torso were quickly pulled away, and the first thing I did was take a deep breath. I felt wonderful, liberated.

"We'll be going then," Jackie declared, stepping over to the couch where her discarded clothes lay, picking them up and tossing Brenda hers. While they slipped them on, I looked down and found my stomach and sides were reddened where the wrap had been. Together with my sweat-soaked hair and fluids-streaked face, I was probably quite the mess.

I just wanted to lie back down, but Anne pulled me to my feet and stepped behind me, wrapping her arms around me pulling me close while we watched the two of them dress. One of her hands snaked down between my legs, and I gasped at the uncomfortable sensation when she rubbed her fingers over my pussy.

"Does it hurt?" Her words tickled my ear.

"Yes, Mistress," I whispered back, "it's quite sore."

"You done, Brenda?" Jackie asked, and after a confirming nod from her girlfriend, turned towards us. "Thanks again," she began, but was interrupted by my lover.

"Actually, could one of you two do something for me before you go? It won't take long."

Brenda raised her eyebrow expectantly; it appeared she had seen something in Anne's eyes.

"I've promised my pet here that she is allowed to come tonight. Seeing that she has been such an obedient little slut and licked you both so well, I wondered if one of you would like to bring her off."

"Lick her pussy?" The redhead inquired.

"No, just use your fingers. And don't feel like you need to be overly careful. You've seen that she doesn't mind rough."

"Can we both do it together?" Jackie wanted to know.

"Of course! The more, the merrier." Anne gave me a little push, and I stumbled forward in Jackie's direction, who had just finished putting on her shoes and immediately spun me around, pressing my back closely against her body and pinning my arms to my sides.

Brenda was also finished dressing and stood in front of me, looking me up and down intensely and then settling her gaze on my pussy. She licked her lips, and when she looked back up, her eyes once more got the look of a predator. I shivered. I was once again the only nude person in the room, and that somehow made their presences more intimidating.

"You want to come?" she asked, resting her palm against my swollen mound.

"Yes, please!" I whimpered in response.

She slowly crooked her middle and ring finger, the tips slipping in between my still - or again - dripping wet folds. My breathing immediately grew quicker; the fingers went in deeper, up to the second knuckle, then all the way, and I could feel them scrape softly along my vagina walls. She never broke eye contact, and when she wiggled her fingers inside me, my knees almost let out.

Then she started to finger-fuck me, hard, pulling out almost all the way and immediately pushing them inside in one quick motion, her palm hitting my sore pussy and making me wince. But with every hit, she also pressed down on my swollen clit, and I couldn't hold back the deep, lust-filled moan.

That's when Jackie's hands went around my breasts and she started to knead them forcefully. "I would never have thought you would be such a kinky slut," she whispered into my ear, "otherwise I'd have made you crawl in front of me and kiss my feet years ago."

I shuddered, aware that something had been unleashed inside her tonight, and that she would do just that if the opportunity arose. I moaned, my head tilting backwards against Jackie's shoulder.

Brenda's fingers pounded me relentlessly, and I already felt the familiar ball of fire form in my pussy, my breath flying and small whimpers of pleasure escaping my throat.

"Come for me, dirty little ass-licking slut," Brenda suddenly commanded, underlining her words by pressing the nail of her thumb hard against my swollen clit, "I want to feel your cunt grip my fingers when you get off."

I'd like to think it was the added pleasurable pain inflicted on my clit, but it probably were just as much her words that sent me over the edge. A guttural cry escaped my throat, my eyes widening in disbelief, yet seeing nothing, as the ball of fire exploded and filled my body with a rushing, wonderful heat.

Jackie buried her fingernail in my tits, and this set off another wave of heat. I writhed like mad in her arms, waves of pleasure bursting from my loins and rising in my chest, almost too much to endure.

My body went weak in Jackie's arms, completely spent, and she let me slide slowly to the floor, where I curled up in fetal position, my hands clasped between my legs and slowly rocking with the delicious aftershocks of one of the most intense orgasms in my life.

The three exchanged some pleasantries, but I hardly heard them, and a minute later Anne and I were alone again.

"What do you think?" she asked, crouching down next to me and brushing stray hairs from my face.

"Think?" I asked back with a slightly insane giggle. "I don't think I can think yet."

"Can you walk?"

I had to think about that for a moment, then shook my head. "But I can crawl."

"Then, my little kinky pet, crawl to the bathroom. You're sweaty and you stink."

I blushed at the reminder of my disheveled state, but I nonetheless followed her orders. A shower sounded like just the thing I needed. And a bed.

* * * * *

An hour later and finally clean, I was in Anne's bed with her spooning me, my eyes closed and a dreamy expression on my face while I let myself get lulled to sleep by the small, tender circles her fingers traced on my tummy.

"I think we're going too fast," her voice suddenly stopped me from drifting into a blissful slumber, and my body stiffened.

"I don't want us to go slower. It's all so," I had to look for the right word, "exhilarating. I feel like flying half of the time. It's perfect." Guiding her hand to my mouth, I kissed her palm before setting it back on my midriff.

"I know how you feel," she whispered into my ear, "believe me. But I fear that you're going to lose yourself in all the kink and lust."

A deep worry had crept into her voice, and I got a feeling in my guts that she wasn't saying everything. Suddenly, Bao's words came back to me. "You're afraid that you're going to lose me. That I might ride along just for the kinks."

This time it was her who stiffened. "It's easy to get lost in the feelings." She turned onto her back, and the loss of body contact almost made me whine in protest. "I've seen it happen to others. You have tasted little more than the icing by now, but this whole dominance and submission thing can have its ugly sides too. I don't want you to get lost if something happens that we haven't foreseen."

"Like what?" I wanted to brush away her worries, but the honesty in her voice kept me from doing so.

"Like someone going over the top with you... and me not stopping them." She paused, and the silence in the dark room became almost oppressive to me. "Like me going over the top, hurting you because you don't know your real limits yet."

My mouth was faster than my brain once more. "Like Bao did with you?"

This time, the silence was even longer. When she answered, her voice was rough, and I had to strain my ears to understand her. "Like Bao did with me."

I turned over so I was looking at her, even if all I could see was just a faint outline. "Would you - would you tell me about it?"

I waited for her reply. Which didn't come for a long time. Her breathing evened out, and I was almost sure that she had fallen asleep without answering my question when she started to speak, slowly and with a small timbre in her voice.

"We had been together for almost two months, me being her submissive, that is, and she had constantly been ramping up the severity of our games. Not that I minded that. I was quite happily traipsing along with every new idea she had, and I proudly carried all the welts and bruises she inflicted on me."

The images sprang unbidden to my mind. I could picture the red welts over Anne's beautiful breasts and her muscular backside and thighs, and even though it somehow felt wrong to imagine my mistress in this state, it was also an exciting, intensely erotic picture.

When she started speaking again, her voice was a bit softer. "We had been playing around with sensory deprivation, you know, blindfolds, ear plugs, hoods and the like, and I really loved it. There's a lot of truth in the saying that being robbed of one sense intensifies the others. One time, she had tied me to a leather bench at the club, blindfolded me and plugged my ears, then allowed others to touch my body however they liked."

This time, the tremor in her voice wasn't one of trepidation, I realized when I heard her breathing quicken.

"It was incredibly intense, not knowing who was touching me, and I think I had never climaxed as often in a few hours' time before. I never knew when and where the next touch would happen, if it would be a soft caress, a cruel pinch, a kiss or a slap."

I hung on her words, easily able to picture myself in her situation, and my breathing followed hers.

"Then we met this woman, Grace, she's a professional psychiatrist, and we got talking about sensory deprivation. She has a chamber that is made for just this thing, a water tank with a floating restraining suit. The water is exactly at body temperature, and it's completely dark inside, and you can't move at all in the suit, just float there and feel weightless. She told us that you lose all sense of time and direction."

"You tried it out," I whispered, "but something went wrong."

She took a deep breath. "Yes, I tried it out. It sounded just too exciting not to, to be robbed of all senses. Of course, Bao added a sexual twist by stuffing a vibrator with a randomized timer up my pussy before strapping me into the suit. It was everything that Grace had promised."

"But?" I asked softly.

"But, after the first fifteen minutes or so, it's hard to say, because one really loses all reference of time in there, something happened to my sense of balance. I felt like falling and spinning, and it scared me. I knew in the back of my mind that Bao was monitoring me; there were microphones and I think even an infrared camera inside the tank, but some stupid pride kept me from saying my safeword. Then I panicked. So much that I couldn't even talk. With the sensation of falling and the knowledge that I was surrounded by water, I felt like I was drowning."




A Bunny to Play With Ch. 11



"Oh my god." I slipped my hand into hers, and she clutched it tightly.

"The vibrator didn't help at all. In the beginning, it managed to take the edge away from my panic for a few precious seconds, but later it just added to the mess of signals running amok in my head. I was sure I was going to die. It felt like I was in there for days, and I just knew that Bao had forgotten me, or something bad had happened to her and Grace."

Her grip on my hand had become painful, but I didn't try to pull away.

"I started to see all kinds of things that weren't really there, people I knew, monsters, you name it, I saw it. At one point I was sure that I was already dead."

The hollowness in her voice made my heart clench. A tear trickled down my cheek, and I was sure that her own face wasn't dry either.

"It was only two hours. But when they pulled me from the tank, I was catatonic. Bao had indeed listened to me the whole time, but she had taken my moans for sexual passion. She was all tears and so apologetic."

"That's when you broke up with her."

"That's when she broke up with me." The bitterness in her words made me flinch. "She told me she couldn't trust herself with me; that she needed to set me free for my own good. She left me alone when I needed her, left me to wake up each night from the nightmares of drowning when I needed her arms to hold me. Oh shit!"

The last few sentences had been interrupted by sobs. I did the only thing I could and pulled her to me, wrapping my arms around her and pressing her close, feeling her shaking. I rubbed her back to soothe her and whispered into her ear that it was all over now, and that it would be okay.

We stayed in that position for quite some time, but finally her tears ebbed and she embraced me too. "Thank you," she whispered and pulled me so close it hurt, "I'm quite the domme, aren't I?"

"You are still my best friend," I whispered back, "and my lover; and human."

"I love you," she declared and bit me teasingly at the side of my neck.

"I love you too." I mirrored her action and, without any conscious thought about it, found my leg slipping between hers, my thigh coming to rest against her smooth pussy.

"Naughty little thing," she growled, rocking her hips against my upper leg. And suddenly we were humping each other's thighs, rubbing our slick pussies against each other's body. Anne kissed me, mashing her lips against mine and shoving her tongue inside my mouth. I bit down on it playfully, which earned me another growl. She dug her fingernails into my back and trailed them upwards, leaving behind burning lines, and I answered by doing the same to her bum. This was carnal, pure lust, and I couldn't say how we had gotten from that tender, truthful moment earlier to this furious passion. But I didn't mind.

It took us both less than a minute to reach the heights of our arousal. Anne came first, her body stiffening and trembling, the wet feeling on my thigh intensifying, and a low, drawn out groan telling me when she went over the edge. I followed along only seconds later, shouting my orgasm into her mouth with a kiss to keep from waking the whole building.

That was how we fell asleep, our legs entangled, her body resting halfway on mine, both of us bodily and emotionally exhausted.



A Bunny to Play With Ch. 12



When I woke up the next morning, with bright sunlight already streaming into the room, I found myself alone in the bed and with Anne nowhere in sight, which left me slightly disappointed. I had expected to be woken by her, or the other way around, and after last nights intimate confession, revel in the new closeness. I crawled out of the bed and made my way to the coffee machine, my mood brightening when I saw the note on the kitchen table.

Though the small flutter of happiness was instantly crushed when I read what she had written. "Will be out all day, don't wait up for me in the evening." It wasn't even signed.

I slumped down on a chair and re-read the sentence, asking myself what was going on. Was I reading to much into the note? Perhaps she had been in a hurry? But the rational part of my mind told me that I was making up unreasonable excuses. Anne, with all her outward flightiness, wasn't one to be this insensitive by accident. But I couldn't, for the live of me, figure out what could be going on in her head to push me away. Was she uncomfortable that she had revealed her weakness? Was she still hung up on the idea she might hurt me?

She was hurting me now, though, and I wished she would come into the room and simply take me in her arms more than anything else. A tear trickled down my cheek, which I angrily wiped away. But I wouldn't give up hope. So I made myself a coffee and sat there, waiting for the door to open and an apologetic Anne to come back.

After almost two hours and two more coffees, I had to declare defeat. It was already lunch time, my stomach started to growl, and there was still no sign of my girlfriend. But I couldn't sit around and mope the whole day, so I traipsed into the shower. The water splashing down on me washed away some of the hopelessness I was feeling, and covered the tears I couldn't hold back.

Afterwards, I put on a summer dress and wrote a note for the unlikely case that she would be home, telling her that I was just running down to the pizza takeaway and would be back in a few minutes. Of course, it still lay untouched when I arrived back, and once the worst of my hunger was satisfied, the pizza tasted like cardboard. I threw away half of it and busied myself with tidying up.

I could only occupy myself with that for a few hours though, and in my desperation not to think, I switched on the telly and coiled up on the couch with a big box of candies, watching mindlessly and crying fresh tears from time to time. I'd stay up until Anne got home, I decided, and make her talk to me. Whatever was going on with her, I just knew we could put it aside if we really talked to each other. We loved each other; we had both said so before we had fallen asleep, and we had both meant it.

I must have drifted off into sleep though. When I was startled awake, it was already daylight again, and the clanging and banging of a parade was coming from the tv. I shot a hopeful glance towards Anne's bed, and my stomach dropped. It was untouched. But then I noticed that her purse, which had been on her nightstand, wasn't there.

"Anne?" I asked into the room, hoping to hear her reply from the bathroom, but I was only met with silence. Then a gut-wrenching thought ran through my head, and I got up and took some hesitant steps toward our wardrobe. Opening the door on Anne's side, my worst fears were confirmed. Her overnight bag was missing, as was a part of her clothes.

Spinning around, I spotted another note on the kitchen table. Walking over and picking it up took an enormous effort. "Brittany," it started, and my stomach dropped further after I read the formal address, "I know this is hard to understand, but I am not sure that we are good for each other. I need some time alone to think about everything. Anne."

No "love", no "Bunnie", not even "your friend" - the floor seemed to be pulled away under my feet.

"Anne," I wailed into the room, and my tears turned the world around me blurry. "Why?"

****

I had spent the day moping again, trying and failing to understand my best friend and lover. I didn't want to use the word "former lover" yet, even though I knew enough about the whole "I need some space" thing not to have big illusions in that regard.

But the darker it became outside, the more restless I got. Today was Friday, and if I stayed inside again, I'd suffocate in loneliness. But I didn't want to go to one of the usual hangouts and be surrounded by hyper coeds celebrating their exams. In a moment of defiance, I decided that I would visit the Dark Sapphire on my own. Maybe Anne would be there too, a small voice in my head dared to hope, but I quickly quenched it. I'd simply try to have fun there, and if that fun got sexual with whomever I met, that would be good too.

I had only a rough idea about where it was though, not having paid much attention on our drive there, and even less on the ride back home. My first idea was to look it up in the phone book, but I couldn't find it there. So I booted up my computer and searched the internet. It took me some time until I discovered the correct link in the flood of results, but I finally got to the website and scribbled down the address.

Then came the next problem. What to wear? I wanted something titillating that immediately drew attention to me, in case I did run across Anne. I rummaged through the wardrobe, holding up dresses and shirts and discarding them just as quickly. Then I thought back to my first visit to the club and all the fancy outfits people had worn, and I got a wicked idea. So I pulled over one of the chairs so I could reach up to the highest board where my 'mementos' were stored. There it was, and with a pack of clothes in my hand I jumped down from the chair, my mood brightening.

I had to iron out a few wrinkles, and I was a bit fearful that I wouldn't fit into the outfit anymore, but to my joy, I managed to wiggle into the by now rather tight and short skirt. The blouse, which had been tight when I had last worn it, now clung to my body like a second skin. The blazer what a bit more loose cut, so it still fit. I also found a pair of knee-length white cotton socks and black ballerina shoes.

I thought about also putting on the tie, but that would probably be a bit too formal. When I looked in the mirror, it felt as if I was transported back in time. My old school uniform made me look little more than sixteen. But something was missing. After a little thinking and posing, I realized what it was, and with a giggle, I fetched the nail scissors from the bathroom and started to cut away the buttons from the top down, until it left a good bit of cleavage exposed. Still, that wasn't enough. So I slipped it off again and, this time using the bigger scissors from the kitchen drawer, cut away a good part of the bottom of the blouse.

When I tried it on again, the image looking back at me was completely different. In the place of the innocent little school girl stood a naughty little seductress, a good part of stomach exposed to show off her belly button, and only two buttons left to protect her breasts from being bared to the world. Two hairclips which sported tiny black bows held back my hair, and with some mascara, a lot of dark, glittery eyeshade and a pale pink lipstick, I had the slutty look I was aiming for.

Twirling in front of the mirror, I gave a small satisfied whoop, then spun over to my bed, picked up my phone and called a taxi.

****

The driver sent me a few strange looks after I gave him the full address, but I got to the club in relative silence. The forty bucks really hurt my finances, but I finally told myself that, with exams over, I could get a side job to earn it back if I wanted to.

So I found myself pulling the entrance open with a slightly trembling hand.

"Hey, Bunnie it is, isn't it? Good to see you again so soon!" Lucy's voice greeted me before my eyes had adapted to the brighter light inside.

"Hi Lucy, how are you?" I greeted back, trying to sound confident.

"Good, good," she piped, "you just here to dance or for more?"

"For... more." I couldn't keep the blush from spreading over my cheeks.

"That's brilliant, cash or credit card?"

"Uhm, cash. How much is it?"

"Will Anne also be here?" she suddenly wanted to know.

To which I could only shrug. "I really don't know."

"I see." Her eyes narrowed a bit, then she sent me a smile. "You know what, it's normally fifty dollars for a single person, but I might be persuaded to grant you a rebate."

The feral sparkle in her eyes gave me shivers, but then told myself that I was here to have fun and discover new things, with or without Anne. Two could play games. So I put one hand on my hips, arched my back a bit to enhance my chest and bit my lower lip in a girlish, timid way while fluttering my eyelashes.

"How much rebate, Ma'am, and how would I persuade you?" I shifted my weight onto the balls of my feet and wiggled left and right, as if I was nervous. Well, I was nervous, so it wasn't all that hard.

She crooked her finger in response, and, caught up in playing the schoolgirl, I shuffled around the counter with tiny, hesitant steps. She only stopped her gesture when I stood less than a foot away from her.

"You already know that I have to check you for contraband. So I'll do that before we discuss fees." And without further ado, she bent forward and pulled my blouse away from my body, staring unabashed at my exposed breasts.

"Nice titties," she commented, "not really big, but firm and round enough for a little whipping." At my frightened look, she quickly added, "I'm only teasing you, no need to panic."

When I sighed in relief, she let go of my blouse. "Lift your skirt, all the way, then slowly turn around."

My fingers trembled when I gripped the hem and pulled it up. Her eyes were measuring my reaction and only travelled downwards when the hem was above my waist and my pussy was exposed to her eyes.

"Naughty girl," she chided, "going clubbing without panties. And here I had planned to make you hand them over to me. I've got to think up something else instead." Her index finger made a twirling motion.

I started to turn on the spot, feeling her eyes on my nude backside. My blush spread across my cleavage and small spasms raced through my pussy.

I finished the turn a little out of breath. Her eyes didn't miss the sharp points of my nipples which were trying to poke through the blouse.

"My, my, someone has gotten aroused by showing off her snatch," she purred. "Let's see what more we can do. Tell you what, I'll waive half of the entrance fee if you stow your jacket here and let me take away the two buttons on your blouse. And the other half if you lick my pussy."

Without the two buttons, I'd have to move very, very carefully, unless I wanted to show off my breasts to the whole word. Which, I surmised, I had done already last weekend. But licking her? For twenty dollars?

"Isn't," I had to clear my throat, "isn't that a bit cheap? The licking, I mean."

"It is. Would that make you feel like a cheap slut then?"

I nodded, unable to look into her eyes. Conflicting emotions warred inside me. Her looks weren't that appealing to me; with her butch exterior, she was far from the beautiful Anne, the petite and cute Bao or even the overwhelming femininity of Brenda. Yet, she wasn't ugly in any way, and a part of me got turned on especially by the lesser physical attraction, because it reduced the moment to something completely sexual and heightened the feeling of submission. Still, I couldn't bring myself to agree to her terms out loud.

Which she probably sensed. "I'll count down from three, and if you aren't at the other side of the counter by then, it means that you take up my offer."

Needless to say, I didn't move at all when the numbers dripped off her lips.

"Zero," she voiced, the satisfaction audible, and pulled scissors from a drawer. Two quick snaps and the buttons were off, then she guided the jacket over my shoulders and down my arms, only then making me aware that I was still holding up my skirt, so caught up in the moment had I been.

When her hands softly pressed down on my shoulders, I didn't hesitate and lowered myself to my knees. My heart started to race. Why did it feel so right to kneel in front of another woman? I couldn't say, but the juices in my pussy told me where that need came from.

Lucy was once again wearing leather pants. They had lots of zippers and buttons, and when she opened two buttons at the top and pulled down zippers left and right of her triangle, I realized that they weren't just for show. Instead, a big part of front of the pants could be pulled down to exposed her pubes, which were adorned by a purple dyed strip of hair.

She stepped closer to me and pushed my head between her legs. My mouth opened on its own accord, and when my tongue snaked out and took a deep lick at her sex, I felt the small shudder that ran through her body. I was getting used to the heady, musky aroma by now, but she still tasted different from the pussies I had licked. Perhaps there was also a hint of perfume there, because it carried a scent of roses under the almost overwhelming aroma of leather.

She was a gusher, I thought to myself, her juices, thinner that anything I had experienced, quickly covering my chin. I pressed my opened mouth over her pussy and lightly scraped over her clit with my front teeth. She didn't let out the slightest moan, only her deeping breaths telling me that what I did had any effect on her.

I licked some more, and when her breaths were rapidly quickening, I switched my attention to her clitoris, rubbing the growing pearl with my tongue and suckling on it. She trembled a few times when I did that, and suddenly her hands pressed down hard on the back of my head and she let out a low growl.

"Fuck yeah," she sighed, her hands letting go of me, "I needed that."

She looked down at me and smiled. "You look cute with my juices smeared all over your face."

I lifted my hand to wipe away the moisture, but she caught my wrist.

"No, keep it there, so everyone downstairs knows immediately what you've been up to."

She pulled me to my feet and, not letting go of my wrist, and reached over for the stamp, which she proceeded to press onto my wrist.

"There you go," she chimed, "have fun in the club!"

****

I didn't pay much attention when I walked across the dance club, and when I reached the entrance to the basement, a group of girls was also about to go downstairs. So I escaped being fondled by Cass again - I wasn't sure if I was happy or disappointed about though - and only displayed the stamp on my wrist to slip in with them.

They didn't pay me any heed, too taken up in an animated discussion about - from the snippets I caught - a new fetish store in town, and riling each other up with suggestions of sex toys to use.

The light in the big hall downstairs was dimmed, mostly coming from bulbous lamps that sat on every table and gave off a reddish light. Once inside, I stepped off to the side and waited for my eyes to adapt to the lighting. It was rather full already, and I wondered how early people tended to arrive here. The dance clubs I had been to only filled up when it got close to eleven, but now it wasn't even ten.

I let my eyes roam around, something I hadn't had much opportunity to do the last time. The discrepancy between the well-dressed dominants on one hand and the naked or skimpily dressed submissives was quickly visible. Most of the submissives where kneeling next to their mistresses or sitting on their laps, but right next to me, one was crouched on her elbows, her bum sticking up in the air and her tongue busy licking her mistress' feet.

A few tables down I spotted a beautiful young woman with long, white-blond hair sitting with wide open legs on the table in front of a group of slightly older women, who had pulled their chairs closely together and were seemingly discussing her attributes, pointing and giggling among themselves.

Two regal dark-skinned ladies, further off to the side, had a pale woman in a corset and wearing a dreamy expression kneel between them and took turns kissing her and fondling her breasts.

Just watching the going-ons was incredibly arousing. But the more I looked, the more my pussy cried out to be touched. I caught myself just in time, my fingers already itching to wiggle their way into my skirt.

I decided to take a stroll through the hall and see if I met someone I knew. I made it halfway through the room when my eyes fell on her.

Bao, in a beautiful, flowing green dress, was looking directly into my eyes, and my breath hitched the moment I recognized her. Next to her knelt the older woman again, her back to me and kissing a younger woman. Bao bent down to the older woman and whispered something that made her break the kiss.

The woman tilted her playmate's head backwards and my heart seemed to freeze. There was Anne, naked and with a shiny metal collar around her neck, eyes closed in aroused bliss, her mouth wide open. Then the woman leaned over Anne and I could see a huge dollop of spittle leave her mouth and dribble into Anne's. My stomach dropped. This was the 'time away' Anne needed to 'think'? The anger that welled up in my chest was only topped by the deep, ice-cold, excruciating feeling of betrayal.

Bao whispered again, and Anne's eyes flew open. Her gaze zig-zagged over the room before it fell on me, and shock appeared on her face.

I couldn't look at her anymore. I took a step backwards, twirling around - and bumped into something, no, somebody.

"Watch it," an enraged voice reprimanded me. "See what you have done, you clumsy slut!"

I had to look up to the woman I had bumped into. She was a good thing over six feet tall, additionally wearing high heels. Her hand held a half-empty cocktail glass, and, with trepidation, I noticed that the other half of its contents had been spilled over the side of her red satin dress, leaving a huge, dark stain.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled and hung my head, already close to tears from what I had just seen, "I didn't mean to."

"That's no excuse," she hissed. "And look at me when I'm talking to you!"

When her index finger pressed upwards on my chin and forced me to meet her gaze, the dam broke. Rivulets of tears streamed down my cheeks.

Her furious expression softened. "Oh my," she gasped, "you're not crying just because you've spilt the drink on my dress, are you?"

"No," I choked, "that's not..." I buried my face in my hands.

"There, there," she soothed me, and suddenly her hands pushed away mine and her thumbs stroked my cheeks. "Don't mind the dress for now. Why don't we find a more private place to sit down."

Without waiting for an answer, she guided me through the room, and I stumbled along, my eyes too blurry to notice where I was going. We reached an alcove with a table and a rounded bench at the side of the hall, and she pulled me inside after her, handing me a hanky after I had sat down.

"Thanks," I sobbed and blew my runny nose, then tried to stem the flow of tears. It took me a few minutes to compose myself.

"Girlfriend troubles?" she inquired.

I looked at her, for the first time consciously doing so. She was quite old, from my point of reference, I guessed in the middle of her fifties or perhaps approaching sixty. Her dress was nothing too fancy in my opinion, and together with the curly hairstyle, I'd never taken her for a lesbian, even less someone kinky. She did look rather fit for her age. I nodded.

"She left you?"

"Worse!" I stammered. The tears threatened to well up again, but then a rage gripped me that made me able to keep my eyes dry. "She left me a fucking note that she needed time to think, telling me that she was afraid to hurt me. Not even two days later I find her here, posing as Bao's submissive."




A Bunny to Play With Ch. 12



"Oh, poor you." Her voice was full of sympathy. Then her eyebrow went up. "Bao's, you say?"

I nodded again.

"Then you must be talking about Anne."

"You know her?"

"She's a regular here, as am I." She bent closer, I had the impression that she wanted to tell me something discretely, but then she stopped and wrinkled her nose, sniffing a few times. "Your face smells like pussy!"

The way I blushed and looked away was all the answer she needed.

"My, aren't you a naughty girl. Complaining about seeing your girlfriend with another woman, and having just tongued a pussy yourself. Who was the lucky one?"

I don't know why I answered, but I did. "Lucy," I told her in a small voice.

That made her chuckle. "So you didn't even make it into the club without behaving like a slut! Such a pretty little hypocrite you are."

I could only bite my lip and look away again.

"Here, scoot a bit closer," she prompted me, laying an arm around my shoulder and pulling me toward her.

"Please!" I gasped, trying to resist the pull.

"Don't you find me attractive?" she purred.

How could I answer that question? No, I don't, not really? I didn't want to hurt her feelings, especially after I had spilt her drink and probably ruined her dress. So I kept silent, which probably wasn't any better.

She put her hand on my thigh, just below the hemline, and when I tried to move my leg, she held it firmly in place.

"You know, deary, there's still the spilt drink and my ruined dress to talk about."

My stomach churned once more. Paying for both would leave me without a cent of spending money for the month, if not longer.

"The drink isn't that important, but the dress cost me eight hundred dollars."

My eyes bugged. Eight hundred? Forget about the month, this would be three at least. And it would also mean that I couldn't go to any end-of-school parties.

My face must have betrayed my sinking feeling. "Now, now, don't worry so much," she told me while her hand slowly wandered up my leg, "we might be able to come to an understanding."

If her wandering fingers were anything to go by, I knew where this was going.

She confirmed that thought by pulling me a bit closer and used her other hand to pull the neckline of my blouse to the side, exposing more and more of my breast.

"Bad girl," she whispered into my ear, "running around in public without a bra and showing off those stiff nipples."

I looked down, and she was right, my nipple stood proud and erect, defying the uncomfortable feelings the woman's touch was producing.

"What's your name?" She suddenly asked.

"Bunnie," I answered without thinking.

"Bunnie?" She studied my face, apparently wanting to see if I was trying to have her on. "That's not your real name, is it?"

"No," I admitted, "it's Brittany. But my - girlfriend - calls me Bunnie."

She chuckled again. "I think it fits you, Bunnie. I am Helen, but please call me Aunt Helen or Auntie."

This startled me for a moment. Calling her 'Auntie' held quite a bit of taboo.

"But back to the topic," she interrupted my thoughts, "how about we settle the issue about my dress without money?"

"I'm not sure," I tried to think up a way that would neither have me pay all that money, nor require that I got intimate with her. I came up empty.

"I'm always open to alternative suggestions, of course."

Which I didn't have.

"So how about you accompany me home," she finally told me her plan, "where I will punish you appropriately for being so clumsy?" She pinched my nipple, hard, making me gasp. "And for running around like a little slut, without a bra and any buttons on blouse, showing off your tits to the world?"

Just at this moment, her hand, which had constantly crept higher on my thigh, touched my pubes.

Her grin intensified. "And of course I'll also have to punish you for going without panties. You are a slut, aren't you?"

Don't ask me why, but I felt myself nodding, agreeing with her assessment wholeheartedly and feeling that moist, hot feeling between my legs intensify.

"Good," she purred, "I love it when a naughty girl sees the errors of her way." Then she kissed me, without warning, and while her tongue was twirling around in my mouth, her fingers started to pinch my pussy lips. I gasped into her open mouth, which drew a satisfied purr from her.

"Come on," she hurried after letting go of me, "let's not dawdle."

I slid out from the alcove and and let myself be dragged after her by my hand. Her excitement was easily recognisable in her hurried steps. We stopped only once, when she admonished me to keep my other hand down at my waist. Which made my blouse flutter and allowed everyone an undisturbed look at my breasts.

When we passed Lucy's counter and I asked Helen to stop so I could fetch my jacket, the dykish girl appeared surprised. "Bunnie?" She asked.

"Yes?"

"You're going home with her?"

"Why?"

"Are you sure you want that?"

"Of course she is," Helen answered for me, crushing my hand hard while I grabbed my jacket with the other.

"Well, you're old enough," she told me with a shrug and a shake of her head. "Have fun."

This sounded ominous. But perhaps it was only the age difference that had startled her. I shouldn't put too much thought on it, I decided. If Helen was dangerous, they wouldn't allow her in as a regular, would they?

****

Five minutes later, I stood next to Helen at the passenger side of a huge, dark blue BMW, waiting for her to unlock the door.

"Strip," she told me instead.

"Here?" I asked, taken aback.

"That's not what I want to hear," she growled, suddenly a lot less friendly. "The correct answer is, 'Yes, Aunt Helen'!"

I swallowed. The parking lot appeared devoid of people, so I might get away undiscovered. And in for a penny, in for a pound. So I shrugged off my blouse and, after a fumbling around for a moment, not knowing what to do with it, handed it over to Helen, together with the jacket. The cool air made my nipples tighten almost painfully. I quickly opened the button on the skirt and pulled down the zipper. The faster I undressed, the quicker I could get into the car. I handed over my skirt with trembling fingers; now I was as good as naked in the middle of a public place.

I whimpered quietly, but it wasn't quiet enough.

"Don't play shy," Helen teased me, "little sluts don't care about their decency."

This drove fresh waves of heat to my cheeks. When I lifted my leg to slip off the ballerina shoe, she stopped me. "Keep those on. I like the look of the stockings and shoes."

She walked to the back of the car and opened the trunk, putting my clothes inside while I prayed for her to hurry up, dreading that another car would enter the parking lot any moment. As soon as the locks clicked open, I jumped inside.

"Put your feet up on the panel," Helen instructed me while she started the car, "and spread them as wide as you can. I want to be able to see and touch my prize for tonight."

I followed her orders, closing my eyes when I was done. I didn't want to see if anybody noticed my lewd state. We reversed out of the parking lot, and Helen shifted the lever to drive. That left her hand free to play with my body.

The drive wasn't that long, perhaps fifteen minutes, but most of her touches consisted of pinching and pulling my nipple, and by the time we arrived, it was sore and throbbing. The worst thing, though, was that she reached down between my legs from time to time and noticed my growing arousal, making me wonder if I really was that big of a slut deep inside.

Her house was in the middle of nowhere, an old farm, from the looks of it, which had been renovated and the surrounding buildings either torn down or converted into small guest cabins. Trees sprang up from the ground a hundred feet behind the house. We had pulled up right next to the entrance, but when I looked around, I saw a big double garage and had a slightly disturbing thought.

"Helen?" I asked, but she didn't react. "Aunt Helen?" I tried again, the words only reluctantly rolling over my lips.

"Yes, Bunnie?"

"Do you live alone?"

"Of course not," she answered with a chuckle, "I live with my husband, John, and his step-sister, Margaret."

This made me more than just uncomfortable. "Will they..." I couldn't even finish the sentence.

"We'll see," she waved my concerns away. "Now scoot, I want to see you in front of the door in five seconds."

"But my clothes..."

"Won't be needed right now."

"But..."

"Five." She stared at me, daring me to ignore her order. Gone was the friendly, warm older lady.

"Four."

I threw open the door and climbed out of the car as fast as I could. When I noticed the small, pointy gravel under my feet, I was glad that she had allowed me to keep on my shoes.

Not wanting to find out what would happen if I exceeded the five seconds, I threw the door shut, seeing her mouth "three", and sprinted up the few stairs to the entrance.

Helen took her time, obviously enjoying that I stood here, naked and vulnerable. I was sure that two more pairs of eyes were watching me, hidden behind the dark rectangles of the windows. It felt like ages until her footsteps finally sounded on the gravel, and even longer until the key turned in the lock and the door in front of me swung open.



A Bunny to Play With Ch. 13



I didn't know if it was a wise idea to go home with a stranger, but Anne had hurt me, and I had ruined Helen's dress, and if I was honest with myself, all I wanted was something intense to take my thoughts away from reality for a while. The sound of the key turning in the door's lock promised that intensity, and I felt excitement bubble up inside.

I was pushed inside before I could think about taking a step and almost ended up on my knees. Helen turned on the light, and after blinking a few times, I found myself in a big, square room with doors on every side. One of the doors was open, and to my horror, a woman at least as old as Helen stood there, with her grey hair standing awkwardly in all directions, clad only in a long terry-cloth bathrobe and watching me with disdain.

"I see, you brought home another one of those young sluts," she hissed.

"You don't have to care about it," Helen responded not any friendlier, "it's between me and John what I do and don't do."

"This is my house as well, don't forget that."

"As if I could."

I was frozen on the step, listening to the two women's scornful argument and trying to cover my nudity with my arms and hands as good as I could.

"Keep going." Helens hand pushed me forward again, right at who had to be her sister and who didn't move from her position in the door frame, so I ended up bouncing against her bony body.

I winced, even more so when her hand shot out and grabbed my shoulder painfully. "Slut!" The word was like a whiplash, almost driving tears into to my eyes. But she wasn't done with me. Before I could realize what was happening, she spat at my face, a huge drop of spittle hitting me next to the eye. I lifted my hand to wipe it away, but she caught it and spat at me again. And again.

It was the most demeaning thing that had ever happened to me. Still it got worse when her hand snaked down between my legs and gripped my pussy.

"Does this make you hot? Helen's sluts love to be humiliated, or so she tells me. Are you one of them?"

Truth was, something about the treatment, about the way she took control of me in a few seconds, did stir the heat that had already been building between my legs all evening, even though I was dying with shame and repulsion.

She pushed me away, but my back instantly made contact with Helen's body, or I would have fallen down. She held me by my upper arms though, and when I tried to lift them, she pushed them down again.

"Have fun," Margaret hissed and turned around, walked down a narrow corridor and vanished into one of the rooms.

"Sorry for that," Helen said, but I could hear that she didn't really mean it, "she's always like that. But lets not think about her."

She guided me through the door and had me make a quick turn to the left, not allowing me to wipe her sister's spit from my face. A stone staircase ran down into the basement. I wasn't sure it was a good idea to walk into a stranger's basement, but what other options did I have? So I hesitantly put one foot before the other and was soon standing in front of a padded door opposite the stair. My heart thumped while I waited for Helen to unlock it.

When it finally opened, my breathing stopped. I wanted to turn in fright, but I was frozen like a deer in the headlights. The huge room resembled a medieval torture chamber more than anything else, with stocks and ropes and iron rings and pulleys everywhere. To the side even stood a wooden horse like I had once seen at an old castle, only freshly polished and glistening in the dim light of the bulbs interspersed over the ceiling.

Another shove had me stand inside the room and the door swung shut with a resounding click. I spun around and realized that it didn't have a handle, just small number pad embedded in the wall next to it. I stared at Helen with frightened eyes.

She just smiled back and took a step towards me, which made me back away. It quickly became a play, she took one step towards me, I took one backwards. Until my back came up hard against one the wooden posts, that is, and I was quickly caught between it and Helen's body, my chin almost level with her cleavage.

My head swiveled around, looking for a way out. But her hands captured my cheeks and she forced me to look at her face.

"I know this looks frightening, and the vulnerable look in your eyes makes you all the prettier," she whispered, "but if you are a nice little girl and follow Auntie's orders without hesitation, I'll go easy on you when its time for the punishment."

That put me a bit at ease. She sounded truthful, and I knew that I would anything to ensure she would lighten my punishment. I dreaded to imagine the kind of torture she could inflict in this room.

"Now be a good little niece and undress your aunt."

I nodded after a second. She turned around and I pulled down the zipper on her dress, fumbling a bit until I got it down all the way. She didn't move a muscle, so I had to brush the fabric over her shoulders and slide it down her arms. When she stepped out of it and exposed her pale body, I just stood there, not knowing what to do with it, staring at her, at the thigh-high sheer stocking and the contrasting, frumpy cotton stockings and bra.

"Fold it," she snapped, "dumb slut, and put it onto the counter."

I hurried to follow the order and made sure to fold it without wrinkling it, putting it onto the counter that ran along one of the walls. Then I was back in front of her.

"Now take off Auntie's bra."

She wasn't massively built there, but her breasts appeared to be a nice C-cup. My clumsy fingers managed to part the snaps at the front and pushed the cups to the sides, which made them sag quite a bit.

This time, she shrugged off the garment on her own. I learned why when she cupped the back of my head with her hand and guided it to one of her big, puffy areolas.

"Aren't they beautiful?" she asked, false sweetness in her voice.

I had to play the game. "Yes, Aunt Helen, they are."

"Would you like to kiss them?"

No, my mind screamed. I don't want to kiss them! They are saggy and wrinkly and I don't like you! Instead I used my sweetest girly voice. "Yes, please may I kiss them, Auntie?"

She mashed my face against her breast, which felt hot and soft, and I closed my eyes and wrapped my lips around her huge nipple, sucking and licking for all it was worth.

"That's a good girl," she moaned, guiding my head to her other tit and making me repeat my ministrations there.

Then the hardest part came. She guided me down onto my knees and my face ended up inches from her soaked panties.

"Kiss them!" she ordered.

I puckered my lips and slowly brought them down on the wet spot. Looking up at her, her wide and gleeful smile radiated down at me.

"Do you want to taste Auntie's treasure for real, Bunnie?"

A swallowed down any misgivings I had. Unlike those times I had been allowed to taste Anne's sweetness, or her friends', the only thrill I felt was that of the forbidden, the kinky. "Yes, Aunt Helen, please, may I kiss your treasure?"

She slowly slipped them down, exposing the most lewd pussy I had ever seen. Not that I was an expert. Her outer lips were soft and, thank god, shaved bare, but her inner lips hung out more than an inch, crinkled, large and wet with her arousal.

She let the panties drop to the floor and spread her legs, her vulva opening and exposing the pink flesh inside. Then she simply waited.

I hesitated for a bit, but when I saw a hint of annoyance flicker over her eyes, I caved in and leaned forward. She hadn't been one for tender foreplay, so I didn't hold up with it either and simply licked a long trail from her opening to the top of her slit, making sure to give her huge and slightly asymmetric clit a good lick.

A part of me wanted to close my mouth and run away. But another part tingled with excitement at the demeaning action, the wrinkly thighs that framed my head and the intensive aroma on my tongue.

"Yes," she moaned, "keep licking like that!"

I did, and the speed of her breaths increased rapidly. Soon she was gasping and moaning above me.

"Stick two fingers inside!" she commanded.

Her love tunnel was loose, I barely felt her pussy walls around my fingers, and quickly added a third one. That appeared to be the right thing, because small gasps escaped her throat.

"My clit!" she suddenly cried out and grabbed my head, guiding my mouth over her pearl. "Suck it hard, slut!"

As if I had another option. I sucked as hard as I could, driving my fingers into her slick hole with abandon, and a few seconds later she shuddered all over, cried out and mashed my face to her pussy.

"God, that was nice," she finally purred when she had gotten her breath back. "Who would have thought that our innocent schoolgirl is such a good pussy licker."

She even patted my head, and I tried but failed to suppress the feeling of warmth in my stomach at her praise.

"But let's get to the main event of this lovely evening, my little lover-slut," Helen sing-songed and pulled me to my feet again. "There's still the matter of your outstanding punishment."

She pushed me into the middle of the room and told me to stay at the spot while she went rummaging through one of the cupboards on the wall. When she came back, she was carrying two pairs of wide leather straps. At first I was curious, but when she knelt down in front of me and wrapped one of the straps around my ankle, buckling it tight, I understood their meaning and was filled with trepidation. A karabiner was attached to each of the straps, turning them into shackles that could easily be fixed to whatever she wanted. For my left ankle, it was an iron ring set into the floor. My right ankle was similarly immobilised, and she made me stand with my feet wide apart so she could attach it to another hook.

She looked up at me with a grin. "Gosh, don't look so glum, little girl. This won't kill you. I just want to make sure that you keep in place when I punish you."

Her words did little to alleviate my fears. Her fingers made me forget about them though, because, still kneeling, she pushed two of them harshly up my pussy. They met little resistance.

"Dirty, horny girl," she whispered, pulling her fingers out again and wiping them on my thigh, "but let's finish this."

She wrapped each of my wrists too, pulled a length of rope with a ring on its end from the ceiling and hooked my cuffs into it. Then she vanished from my view and I could hear a rhythmic, creaking sound. Its original became quickly noticeable when my hands per pulled upwards, further and further. Finally, my arms were completely extended, but Helen still didn't stop, and the pulling became painful.

"Ow," I complaint, "that hurts." A few more creaks sounded and the strain spread down my arms, into my shoulders and all along my upper body. I became really worried. "Please," I gasped, "please stop!"

"Only a little more. You want to be a good girl for Auntie, don't you?"

Shit. I did. "Yes, Auntie."

Another creak, and my feet lost contact with the floor for a short moment. I quickly pressed down with the balls of my feet, but half of my weight rested on my arms now, and if I wanted to carry more of it on my feet, I would have to get up on tiptoes.

"Ow!" I complained again.

"It's part of the punishment," Helen told me from right behind me. "so it needs to hurt a little. By the way, little Bunnie, do you have a safeword?"

"Yes," I started to say, but the moment I parted my lips, Helen's hand sneaked around and pushed something big, round and rough into my mouth. I tried to push it out with my tongue, but I couldn't. Something cool touched my cheeks, then wrapped around my head, and with a short yank the ball was pulled even tighter into my mouth. My bad feeling skyrocketed, but the feeling of complete helplessness wrapped around me like a comfortable blanket.

"This is a ball-gag," Helen explained, "it's meant to keep you from complaining, but this one still lets you breath through your mouth. Too bad you can't use your safeword, though." Her hands both reached around my upper body and her hands started to knead my breasts. At first I didn't react, but after a while the sensation was too intense to ignore, and a soft moan escaped.

That was her cue. Her breath tickled my ear. "Remember when I told you I'd go easy on you if you are good?"

I quickly nodded.

"Well," she declared in a joyful voice, "I lied."

She stepped in front of me again, a cheery smile on her wrinkled face, and I frantically shook my head.

"Oh, you're all eager to start," she willfully misinterpreted my pleading, "but you don't know what's going to happen yet. You see, I want to try to really make the message sink in. So I'm going to give you a nice caning. One stroke for each dollar I spent for the dress. Isn't that fair?"

Again I shook my head. Eight hundred strokes with the cane? She would beat me into a bloody pulp. Tears of desperation ran down my cheeks while I tugged futilely on my bonds.

Her fingers touched my cheek and I froze. She looked deep into my eyes, her own burning with a hunger that sent goosebumps down my spine. "Bunnie," she whispered, "naughty little Bunnie. You were a bad girl, weren't you?"

I nodded hesitantly.

"And bad girls need to be punished, don't they?" Her index finger traced along my lips and followed the wide circle into which the ball gag had formed them. Her touch tingled.

My eyes seeked out the wicked, shiny cane in her hand, and the part of me that had revelled in the pain of Anne's clamps and the bites and slaps bubbled up inside me. I feared the cane, yes, but I also couldn't wait to feel it on my skin, make it burn and ache and drive home that helplessness. I wanted to submit like I never had before.

I nodded again, slowly and exaggeratedly. The game was on.

She vanished from view again, and I could only stand there, sobbing and fearing the worst. When the loud smack filled the air, I shrieked like a banshee. The line of fire that developed on the top of my bum made me sure that she had sliced right through my skin, and I thrashed like mad with the little leeway the bonds allowed me. The next stroke fell only seconds later, and she kept up the rhythm, laying one searing line after another on my body, slowly working her way down my bottom.

Tears streamed down my cheeks in small rivers, mixed with the drool seeping through the gag and dribbled down my chin, from where it dripped onto the floor and my chest. The pain was incredible.

The cane reached the underside of my bum, and my cries reached a new urgency. The soft skin at the top of my thighs felt like being ripped off. I lost all sense of time while the cruel woman worked her way methodically down the back of my legs, and I almost couldn't believe it when she stopped above my knees.

I slumped in my bonds, totally exhausted and not caring anymore about the pain in my shoulders this produced.

But I wasn't given long to rest, however uncomfortable that rest was. Ice-cold water hit me in the face, and I sputtered awake again.

Helen stood in front of me, an empty plastic bowl in one hand, the cane in the other, a wide grin spread over her face. "Tut tut, Bunnie, no slacking off in the middle of such an entertaining evening."

I fumed inside, and if I hadn't been bound up this tight, I would have kicked her. Instead I could only grunt and wiggle.

"Ah, eager again. Don't worry, the first quarter of your punishment is already over."

The first quarter? My puffy, red-rimmed eyes must have become big like saucers, because she began to laugh throatily at my desperation.

"Oh, don't look so surprised," she admonished, "eight hundred strokes aren't done in ten minutes. But I've got one good message for you - after I'm done with your frontside, I'll do away with the cane."

The word 'frontside' echoed through my brain, but somehow, I didn't want to make the connection, not even when Helen threw the bowl to the side and took up position a little to my side. When she took aim with the cane, I simply closed my eyes.

The first stroke fell on my stomach, right at the top of my pussy, and made me jerk like mad. But once the most searing pain had faded, I couldn't suppress my curiosity any longer and looked down. A thin red line formed on my stomach, perfectly horizontal. And while it had felt as if it simply ripped through all the layers of my skin, it hadn't even drawn blood.

The next stroke fell just a quarter of an inch above it, and I saw the impact ripple my stomach like a rock thrown into water - before the pain hit me and my eyes once more blurred. She worked onwards, merciless, the only sounds in the room the rhythmic smacks of the cane, her hissing breath when she delivered them, and my wails and sobs.

She stopped when she reached my ribcage, and for a small moment I allowed myself some hope, but she only stepped a bit backwards and changed her stance. Before I could even start to panic at the incredible thought that she would strike my sensitive breasts, she did just that, snapping up the cane against the underside of my tits. It was worse than anything before. And she struck again, shifting her weight as she went higher, painting my precious tits with lines of searing pain. When she hit my nipples I nearly passed out, and she graciously allowed me a few minutes to compose myself. Not that I would have minded passing out at that point.

When she picked up the cane again and covered the rest of my tits, my inner resistance was broken. I just silently sobbed, dangling from my bound hands, and just took every new painful stroke of the cane and felt my breasts swell and pulsate with heat.

I hardly reacted when she finished torturing my breasts, which were swollen and felt twice their size by now, and start to flick the inside of my thighs with the tip of the cane. Left, right, left, right, the cruel strips wandered up my legs. But when she came close to my pussy, the softest of my skin, a switch fell in my head. I cannot describe it any other way, because that is just how it felt.

The pain suddenly became secondary. It was part of the cane's stroke, but somehow my body disassembled the overwhelming reactions of my nerves, stowed away the brutal pain and instead focused on the heat and the rhythm of the impacts. When the cane fell only an inch from my pussy lip and Helen aimed again, I found myself eagerly awaiting the hit, even pushing out my pelvis to make it easier for her to aim. I was wet once again.

The last stroke smacked through the air, and I breathed hard, my eyes shamelessly imploring her to keep on. She turned away though, carrying the cane back to the cupboard. But she picked up something else.

It was a strip of leather, perhaps two inches wide and a foot long, not counting the rounded handle.

"This is my pussy strap," she explained, swinging it through the air a few times. "It is one of my favorites. I am told it hurts a lot, but it is soft enough not to bruise deeply. I'm going to whip your cunt now."

If she had expected a frantic reaction from me, I disappointed her. But she herself didn't disappoint me at all. The moment her hand shot upwards and the strap touch my skin with a loud snap, a raging fire started deep in my womb and drove pearls of sweat to my forehead. Another snap, and I grunted, welcoming the sensation.

That made her stop. She felt that something was off about me and stepped closer, looking deep into my eyes, searching. Then her own eyes widened, and her hand snaked out, her fingers burying themselves in my snatch. I grunted again, and when she lifted her fingers, small strings of my moisture between them, she gasped.

"Oh my god," her gasps turned into chuckles, "you really get off on it. I always found that the girls I picked up at that club were all playing make-believe. You're a real masochist."




A Bunny to Play With Ch. 13



Perhaps I was. I didn't care. All I wanted was for her to pick up her sweet torture again and push me over that edge so I could find my release.

She had apparently been holding back before. Now, the smacks fell in a quick rhythm, almost twice as hard as before, the tip of the leather strap alternating between the spot over my love tunnel, each of my pussy lips, and sometimes even my clit, which sent tremors all through my body. My grunts grew faster and faster, echoing her own grunts of exertion, and my eyes lost their focus; all that mattered was the wonderful, titillating heat between my legs that seemed to rise to unthought levels.

When an especially vicious slap hit my clit, I exploded. Wave after wave of scalding hot pleasure shot through my body. I threw back my head and wailed in bliss. Tremors shook me, and I wanted the moment to keep on going forever.

At some point I must have passed out. When I came to again, I was kneeling. My hands were still raised above my head, but lowered enough that I could kneel on my now freed legs and not have to carry my own weight with my shoulders. I took a few deep breaths and noticed the smell of urine. Gasping, I looked down, to find myself kneeling in a huge puddle of pee. I wanted to die from embarrassment when I realized that it was my own, that my bladder had simply let go, either from the intensity of the orgasm or from passing out.

Helen was in front of me, crouched down and looking intensely at me.

"Are you alright, Bunnie?"

There was a hint of worry in her voice, something I hadn't thought possible earlier. I didn't know if I was. I nodded.

"Will you be a good girl if I take out the gag?"

My head bobbed up and down again, and she nestled behind my head, finally pulling the soggy ball from my mouth. My jaw hurt, and I had to close my mouth slowly. As soon as I tried to move it faster, a sharp pain shot through the joints.

Her hand cupped my cheek, and the look on her face was almost tender. "I enjoy breaking young, naive things," she told me with a soft voice, "and I thought you were the most naive of all I'd had so far. But I can't break you. I envy the woman who once gets to call herself your mistress."

My eyes widened a bit at that confession.

"Now, before we call it a night, there is one thing I need." She got to her feet, spreading them a bit, and I thought I knew what was to come. Especially when she told me to open my mouth and stick out my tongue. Her fingers spread her pussy open and positioned her love tunnel right at the its tip.

But then she paused and told me, "Whatever happens, don't close your mouth."

At first, her order bewildered me. But then a switch was flipped inside my head. I had read about that, even seen a few movies online. It was the dirtiest thing I had heard, and I was about to let her do this to me!

She started to rub her moist cunt against my tongue, yes, but just when I could taste her fresh moisture, something hot and salty dripped onto it. I couldn't believe it at first, but a glance downwards told me it was true. She was peeing. Peeing onto my waiting tongue, while she flicked her clit with her finger and moaned above me.

It was the most depraved thing ever. And I kept my mouth open, even when her moans grew quicker and the flow increased, until she shook and cried out in orgasmic bliss, her hot piss shooting into my mouth and running down my body. She finally smashed her pubes against my face in her throes, still spraying me with her urine.

When she was done, my whole body, even my hair, was covered in her pee.

"I want to go home," I told her with a small voice.

"Soon," she replied, then she left the room, typing in the correct code only taking her a second and the door closing behind her with another loud click.

I was finally alone. The things she had done to me were hard to stomach. But my own reactions were as well. My thoughts gyrated around the intense orgasm I had experienced while undergoing the painful whipping, and around the debasing act at the end. I could have closed my mouth, she wouldn't have noticed in her excitement. But some part of me had wanted her to demean me, had reveled in the humiliation. I had an inkling what it all implied, but I didn't want to think about it.

Helen came back after some time, freshly showered and wearing jeans and a pullover, now looking the part of a nice, easy-going older woman. I wouldn't have recognized her like that. She opened the crank that held the rope to my hands and had me step out from the puddle of our combined pee, handing me an old towel with which she told me to wipe my shoes. I used it to dry my hair first.

"May I please take a shower, Aunt Helen?" The odor of the pee intensified, the more it cooled down.

"No, you may not. I like knowing that you will arrive at home piss-soaked and sore. Do you live with your parents?"

"No. With my - girlfriend."

"Ah," her face lit up, "I'd love to hear you explain that to her. Let's get you home to her."

She didn't lead me through the big, padded door, though. Instead, we exited through a sliding door on one of the walls that led to a storage room, which in turn opened to an outside stairwell. The air was cool by now. It had to be early morning already, and I shivered when I stepped out into the cold, wet as I still was.

When I opened the car door, the passenger seat and leg area were padded with plastic film.

I was glad that I was living in a dorm, as I wouldn't have given her my private address in my life, and we drove through the night in silence. It took three quarters of an hour, but finally we were there, and I directed her into a small, mostly hidden parking lot. I tried to get out as soon as the car stopped, but her hand on my thigh held me in place.

"I know you think you never want to see me again," she told me, "but I'd like to see you again. We could play for a whole weekend, see how often I could make you pass out from those painful, earth-shaking orgasms. I could even invite some friends of mine with similar interests."

"You're crazy!" I spat.

"Yes, and you are too, to climax like this. If you change your mind, I have put a business card into your jacket."

"Not in my life!"

She finally let me go, and I let out a relieved breath. I slammed the door shut and she popped open the trunk, where I found my clothes nicely folded. Taking them out, I slammed down the lid and turned on the spot, heading between the bushes. I hadn't looked around before, but this corner of the campus was usually deserted at this time of the night.

It pained me to slip my old school clothes onto my pee-covered body, but my teeth were already chattering.

****

When I entered the flat, I almost missed the silhouette that sat on the windowsill. My hand stopped its advance toward the light switch, and I pushed the door closed behind me, suddenly feeling more self-conscious than I had all evening.

"Must have been quite a romp, for you to have been out this long."

Anne sounded annoyed, and my own anger instantly boiled again. "You would know everything about that," I shot back, "wouldn't you?"

I saw her freeze in the minuscule amount of light. "I didn't mean for you to see me like this."

"Oh, you didn't want me to see you play the bitch for Bao's bitch? Then you should have either not gone there, or told me to stay away. Not just scribbled a short note that didn't tell me anything!"

"I didn't know what to tell you - I needed to find out some things for myself."

"You know what," I cursed, "I don't fucking care!"

"Bunnie!" Her voice sounded anguished, and she jumped up from her place on the window and rushed across the dark room.

I couldn't let her get close in my state. I closed my eyes and flipped the light switch.

She stopped in her tracks, cursing about being blinded, but then I heard her breath hitch. "Bunnie?" Her voice was suddenly laced with pain. "Bunnie? Oh shit, Bunnie! What has happened?"

She once more came quickly closer, and I held out my hands. "Don't. Come closer, I mean."

Different emotions travelled over her face. "You look like hell. Let me help you, I promise I'll be gentle."

"I..." The whole situation was absurd, and suddenly all my anger was gone. "You don't want to touch me now." I lifted one leg and pulled on the yellow-stained sock. "I'm a walking puddle of piss. I stink like the fucking sewers. I hurt all over, and I need to take a shower."

So that's what I did. Though I couldn't bring myself to point the spray onto the welts, it just hurt too much, as did the short attempt to soap them up. I settled for sitting under the shower head for a very, very long time and simply let the water cascade over me.



A Bunny to Play With Ch. 14



When I stepped out of the shower after a good half hour with my skin all wrinkly, I still had the smell of pee linger in my nose, but I was quite sure that it was only in my head by now. Anne was waiting for me, sitting on the toilet lid, one of my socks dangling from her fingers. I saw her wince the moment she spotted my body and couldn't keep myself from feeling a twinge of satisfaction. I even turned around and closed the shower stall to give her a good view of my equally decorated derriere.

"Oh shit, Bunnie."

"What?" I wanted to make her feel bad, but the anguish in her face toppled my tower of resentment. "It looks worse than it is." I picked up a towel, dried my hair and dabbed at the few not-hurting patches of skin.

"Don't play me for an idiot," she hissed back, "I've seen enough welts in the last two years to know what hurts and what doesn't. This is going to hurt like hell, and you'll have a hard time sleeping for the next few days."

There was no arguing that, so I simply shrugged. "Whatever. It won't last forever."

"Who did this?" Her voice was quieter now.

I stepped closer to her and put my hand on my hip. "And why would you want to know?"

"Because I..." She paused. I wanted to be able to see into her mind at this moment, to know what she was thinking. To know the truth. "Because I'm your friend."

The dejection that slapped me over the face couldn't be hidden, my whole posture slumped. "Friends talk to each other." I threw the towel I was still holding into the corner and left, wanting nothing more that to curl into a ball and wail my misery to the world. I did curl up on my bed. Lying on the side was the only position where I wasn't painfully reminded of this night's activities anyway. I just cried silently, though.

Everything was quiet for a long time. Then I heard Anne walk across the room. When the entrance door clicked shut, I allowed my sobs some voice.

I even managed to drift into an unruly slumber after a while, but I was startled out of it by the door. When my mattress sunk in right next to me, I made sure to breathe evenly and appear sleeping. Though when something cold touched my bum, I couldn't suppress the gasp.

"Shh," Anne whispered, "it's healing salve. You need that, or you'll carry the lines for the next few weeks."

Her finger travelled across my bum cheeks and spread the cream. I whimpered.

"I know it hurts, honey, but it's either a bit of pain now or a constant sore for twice as many days as it will take with the salve."

She wordlessly continued to work the salve into my backside and thighs, and apart from small whimpers when she touched especially sore spots, I was quiet too. She was thorough and took her time so she didn't miss a single sore patch of skin.

Then she told me to turn around so she could do my frontside. I had to move around awkwardly on all fours to do so.

She started with my stomach, and every touch made my muscles twitch. Thank god I wasn't ticklish, or this would never have worked. While she put dollop after dollop of the salve onto my skin and spread it as carefully as she could, I watched her face. The concentration and sympathy I saw finally made my walls crumble.

"Her name is Helen," I told her, "but she wanted me to call her Auntie Helen. I bumped into her right after I had seen you. I wanted to get away, but instead I spilled her drink all over her dress."

I told her the whole story of my night of torture, and Anne didn't interrupt a single time, only gasping and wincing while she listened to my words. She never stopped applying lotion, and when she had worked her way up to my breasts, my story was broken by pained whimpers every so often. But, despite all her compassion, I could see her cheeks flush and her breath quicken when I described how Helen had spanked my pussy. Her flush intensified when I talked about my final degradation, how she had peed into my open mouth while I knelt in my own pee.

Afterwards, we were both silent while Anne treated the inside of my thighs. The welts there were more sore than those before, and the closer she got to the top, the sharper even the smallest of touches felt.

"I'm so sorry," she finally said, but when I tried to say something, she held up her hand. "I'm sorry for not talking to you. I was stupid. I had been carrying that unresolved business with Bao around, and I was honest when I told you that I feared I was heaping too much onto you in such a short time. And I feared that I might be projecting my own submissive wishes into you. That's why I visited Bao, just to talk and sort it all out. But she insisted that before talking, I would need to submit to her for twenty-four hours. That's why you saw us at the club."

"Did you..." I couldn't ask the question, but she read my intent anyway.

"It was a bit of a thrill, but nothing earthshaking, and being spanked and touched was exciting, but nothing close to what I feel when I do it to you, or watch it done to you."

"So," I couldn't stop myself from needling, "this whole mess was about nothing?"

She hung her head and looked away. "It was."

"Silly mistress," I whispered.

She nodded dejectedly, but suddenly her head swiveled around. "What did you call me?"

"Silly mistress?" I repeated and bit my lower lip.

"Insubordinate little slut," she hissed, her eyes sparkling, "you're aware what such a behaviour means, aren't you?"

"That I need to get punished?" I asked with an innocent smile, tongue in cheek.

I could almost hear the wheels inside her head spin, and then she ever so slowly got up, put the salve onto my nightstand and started to pull her t-shirt over her head. "Lie on your back," she bellowed while she stripped out of her clothes.

Lying on my back hurt, but thankfully not in a way that drove tears into my eyes, it was more of a really, really, really uncomfortable feeling. When she stepped out of her panties, I could see that she carried a few welts of her own on her shapely backside; nothing compared to mine, but a clear indication that Bao had inflicted more than just a simple spanking on her.

Once naked, she climbed onto the bed.

"What..." I started, but she shushed me.

"Spread your legs and bend your knees. A bit further. Good, keep them like this."

She slipped in between my legs, leaving no doubts about her intentions. When her tongue snaked out towards my swollen pussy, I held my breath.

She licked all over my pussy lips, as tenderly as possible, but it still felt like being rubbed with sandpaper. I whimpered, but she ignored me, increasing her pace bit by bit. Yes, it hurt, but it also aroused me, the hot, wet feeling of need just seconds behind the small bursts of pain.

She paused. "What if I wanted to be rougher right now?" she inquired.

I swallowed hard. My heart started to beat like a machine gun. What was it about letting myself be hurt that turned me on so much? "Then you should," I croaked, "it's not up to a slave to decide her mistress' actions."

The bright smile she sent me sent a warm, fuzzy feeling directly into my heart. "However I want?"

"However you want, Mistress."

I wondered what she had in mind. Until she had crawled around me on all fours, that is, and started to lower her body directly over mine, her pussy over my mouth. The moment when her weight settled on my breasts drew the air from my lungs, and when she parted my pussy lips with her fingers, my vision blurred. But it felt incredibly right, and the sweet scent of her sex in my nose helped me ignore my pains. I delved into her pussy like a drowning girl would grab onto a plank of wood, licking, sucking and whimpering and groaning when her tongue and fingers squeezed and pulled and sucked on my own swollen snatch.

We came almost simultaneously, she with understated, trembling, whining waves, while I shouted my release in a big torrent of lust into her sex.

Thank god she had the presence of mind to roll off me, or things would have quickly gone from pleasurable aftershocks to heavy pain.

She snuggled up to my side and rested her head on my shoulder. "You know, when you told me about having your pussy whipped, you didn't sound all that sorry."

I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths. "I wasn't. I'm still not."

"I would have loved to have seen that. But what about the peeing?"

This was the one point that had torn my self-image into smithereens. Would Anne understand? It took more than a minute until I could find the courage to answer. "A part of me hated it. But the other part loved it. Do you - do you think I'm sick?"

My fingers started to tremble when she didn't reply immediately.

"Oh Bunnie," she sighed, "perhaps you are a little deviant in some way, but would that be a bad thing? You told me she invited you for a weekend. Would you go there again?"

"I don't think so. I'm still not sure I can trust her, and it would be too intense."

"But you thought about it already?"

"No! Yes. How do you know?"

"Would you do it if I wanted you to? If I'd be there to make sure you aren't permanently harmed?"

My pussy clenched. "Oh god."

"Is that a yes?"

My skin prickled with the shameful blush that covered my whole body. "Yes, Mistress."

"Good," she purred, "maybe we'll do that one day. Or maybe not. We'll see. Now sleep, we both need some rest."

I closed my eyes. "Mistress?"

"Mhm?"

"My back hurts."

"Doesn't matter," she mumbled, already halfway asleep, "that's what you get from going home with strangers."

It took a bit longer than that for me to follow her into the lands of dreams, but my exhaustion won out over the pain at one point, and I dreamed of whips and shackles and crowds of cruel women, but the image that kept repeating itself was one of Anne, a cane in her hand, about to swing it at my breasts just like Helen had done earlier.

* * * *

When I awoke, the events seemed even more surreal to me than when they had happened. Anne was already busy making breakfast - apparently, she had snuck out to fetch fresh rolls, because the smells of bakery and coffee filled the room and made me salivate. I sat up, groaning with pain when I put too much weight on my abused buttocks.

"Good morning, Bunnie!" Anne put a roll onto a plate and set it on the old plastic serving tray we had kept around for no discernible reason. "You stay in bed right now! I'll bring you breakfast in a min."

I sank back, suddenly incredibly touched, and the world around me blurred a little. I couldn't stay mad with her about sneaking off, not when I had seen these worried and caring looks travel my way.

She poured a cup of coffee and added a generous pouring of milk and put two spoonfuls of sugar into it, to create exactly the sweet, creamy-brown goodness I loved on slow days. On school days, I wanted kick, so I usually added just enough milk and sugar to take away the worst of the edge, but on weekends, I indulged myself.

And today, Anne was all set to indulge me. She approached with the tray and put it down across my legs, then climbed onto the bed and sat down with crossed legs, facing me. "Honey or jam?"

"I'm not an invalid." I realized how harsh my words sounded instantly. "Sorry, I just meant... you don't need to treat me as if I'm fragile..." My cheeks flushed.

To my relief, she giggled. "You? Fragile? That's a good one." Her hand searched mine and wrapped around it. "You're the strongest, most daring girl I know." Her thumb brushed the back of my hand, and I sighed softly. "I just want to indulge you a little. It's my fault too that..."

"Balderdash!" I giggled when she looked at me wide-eyed. I had always wanted to use that word. "Nobody's at fault but me. I knew deep down very well what I let myself in for. I was jealous and hot-tempered and naive, and I made a bit of a bad decision."

A tear trickled down her cheek, and the need to catch her in my arms and kiss her senseless became almost overwhelming. I thought of the tray on my legs at the last moment and settled back down with a sigh. "Hey, Anne." I reached up and brushed the tear away. "Mistress."

She sniffled a bit, but she never stopped smiling, and my heart was filled with love.

"Mistress, I want us to be completely honest. I don't want you to hold back and hide your thoughts and needs. And I'll promise that I'll talk to you whenever I feel left out and alone, before I can do anything stupid. Would that... would that be okay?"

I watched her expectantly. Instead of answering, she slowly picked up the tray and set it down on the nightstand. Then she pulled away the blanket.

It was almost funny that I felt myself blush when her eyes roamed all over my body.

She sighed, lying down next to me and running a hand through my hair. "Oh Bunnie, you're so right. We should have talked instead of assuming." Her soft kiss on the tip of my nose made me giggle. "Do you really want to know what I'm dreaming of?"

"I do," I answered honestly, and somehow, it felt almost like an oath. "Tell me."

She took a deep breath. "You remember Jolene? The girl in yellow latex?"

I chuckled. "As if I could forget her!"

"Right." Anne's grin got a bit sheepish. "Well, she's a body artist." She looked deep into my eyes. "And she's really good in it. I want her to do you over. I..." I saw her cheeks flush and her lips tremble slightly. Whatever fantasy she was about to confess, it had to be powerful. Her voice grew scratchy. "I love pink. I want her to make you all pink. Your hair..." She softly stroked it. "Your brows..." She trailed their lines with a finger, then leaned very close and whispered into my ears, almost choking up, "Your lips. Permanently. I want you to be my pink pet, I want you to dress only in pink, and every time I look at you, I want to see that you did it for me. That you're mine! My pink Bunnie!"

Her breath flew, and, I realized, mine did too. I turned to the side and nestled my leg between hers, ignoring the pain of the welts rubbing against her skin, and pressed my thigh against the crotch of her panties, finding it moist and slippery and hot. "I want that," I growled into her ear. "Does she do tattoos too?"

Her answer rumbled in my ear. "Yes, she does."

"So she could put a tattoo, in pink, with your name on my pussy lips?"

She stilled. Her breath flew. "You'd really..."

"Yes!" I bit the soft skin on her neck and felt her shiver.

"But that would be... forever."

I trailed a wet line up to her ear with my tongue. "Forever!"

She pushed me onto my back. Her eyes glowed with arousal. God, she was so beautiful like this! She looked like an ancient war goddess, wide-eyed, flushed with the lust for the hunt and with an evil little smirk on the corner of her slightly parted lips. Her fingers wrapped around my wrists and pushed my arms down onto the cushion next to my head. She climbed on top of me, lying down on me, the fabric of her clothes rubbing awake the welts that covered my chest, and now she wiggled her leg between mine.

She started rocking back and forth, and the stocking-clad thigh ground hard against my swollen, hypersensitive vulva.

I groaned. I moaned. And then her mouth descended on mine, and we battled in a sloppy, greedy, lust-filled kiss while pain and arousal spiraled higher and higher between my legs and my juices seeped copiously from my snatch.

I came. I buckled and moaned, I writhed and whimpered her name into her mouth. It was glorious.

But she didn't stop, didn't even slow down. It was almost overwhelmed by the sensation. My pussy protested, the discomfort rose and rose, but just when I thought I couldn't bear it anymore, this soft, liberating feeling of something giving way inside me returned, and the painful sparks turned into the most intense, pleasurable sensations.

I came again, and this time I was tossed around in a sea of pleasure. Reality seemed a place far away, and I rocked and jerked with these powerful waves of lust that overwhelmed every nerve ending in my body.

And Anne still didn't appear the least bit inclined to stop. My vision blurred, and I could take it no more. I wiggled my arms free, shoved her off me and covered my twitching, throbbing pussy protectively. "Sorry!" I wailed. "I'm sorry!"

But instead of giving me a hard look or chastising me, she wrapped me in a soft hug. "Hush, Bunnie." Soft little kisses on my lips kept me from voicing my disjoint thoughts. "You did exactly what I expected you to."

"Really?"

"Huh-huh." She winked at me, then kissed me softly. "If I trust you with my darkest secrets, I also need to trust you to tell me when it gets too much."

I smiled. Like a butterfly that swirled in erratic patterns, the elusive trust I had been yearning for settled on my heart, and it open for it like a blossom in the first rays of sunlight.

"I love you, Mistress."

"I love you too, Bunnie." She poked my ribs and made me giggle. "And because I love you so much, I want you to rest well and heal, so you're fit for the graduation party this weekend and anything that I may think of to do afterwards."

I glanced at the clock, stifling a yawn. It was only quarter past ten. "Resting sounds good."

"Then do that." The warmth in her voice made my insides melt. She pulled the blanket back over me and caressed my cheek. "I'll be heading out for a bit, but I'll be back late afternoon." Seeing me inquiring gaze, she sighed. "We have to clear out our worktables in the fashion lab, now that term is over. I'll be as quick as I can. Now sleep, that's an order!"

I wiggled onto my side and sighed contentedly. "Yes, Mistress Summers." Who was I to refuse my Mistress' orders?

"Do you still want some of the breakfast?"

I shook my head. "Not really." Another yawn escaped me. "Not now."

She softly kissed the tip of my nose. "Sleep well, my Bunnie. Love you!"

* * * *

The next few days were really, really nice, in a relaxing, healing, cozy way. Anne pampered me like a princess. She made me breakfast in bed - though that wasn't technically necessary, she insisted - and fetched takeout for lunch, and she even cooked decent dinners that, to me, were the best meals in the world. She worked that magic healing cream into my slowly fading welts and we made the sweetest love before we fell asleep each night, entangled with each other.

It was a good thing that there were no lectures to attend anymore. I didn't even want to start thinking about what these hard wooden seats would have done to my poor backside. I loved that I could stay in all day and needn't worry about chafing clothes.

But the graduation ceremony was coming up too, and I still had no dress. What I did have was time, time to think and dream up a totally crazy idea. And while I fought it off at first, every time Anne was so nice to me and every time we kissed and cuddled and made love brought it to the forefront of my mind, until I couldn't ignore it anymore.

So, on Wednesday morning, I took the opportunity when Anne was in the shower and took a peek at her phone, quickly digging through the contact list and almost dancing with joy when I found the number I was looking for. At least, I hoped it was, but her given name wasn't that common, so I quickly scribbled it down and hid the note away in the drawer of my nightstand.

And when Anne was on her way to the small Chinese take-away three blocks down from campus, I quickly dialled the number and held my breath.

"Tats and Treats, Jolene here. What can I do for you?"

My heart started to beat faster. "Hi, uhm, this is.. Bunnie." God, I sounded so stupid! "Anne's girlfriend."

There was a little pause at the other end of the line before a soft, "Oh," could be heard. "I remember, of course I do. Haven't seen you since. How are you doing?"

The small reminder instantly brought a fresh blush to my cheeks, and I was glad that she couldn't see me now. "I... Anne told me that you do hair colors and permanent makeup and tattoos..." The blood started to rush in my ears. I could only hope that I could still understand her reply. "I want to surprise her, Friday, at the grad ceremony."




A Bunny to Play With Ch. 14



Another pause. "A bit on short notice, aren't you?"

I swallowed. "I know. It's just... things have happened, and I really want to show her how much she means to me, and she told me that she has this fantasy of me, and... I'm rambling, aren't I?"

A huge weight tumbled from my shoulders when I heard her giggle. "My, if it's that important, I'll try my best to accommodate you! What were you thinking of?"

"Pink!" The word shot from my mouth. "Hair, I mean. And eyebrows. Permanent lip makeup too, if that's possible. And..." This was the hardest part. My voice shook. "...a tattoo. Her name. On my pussy lip."

For a moment, I thought the blood rushing in my ears had drowned out her voice, but then I realized that she was breathing hard. "I think that should be doable. You want to surprise, so it should be rather close to the ceremony, right?"

I nodded, my nervousness suddenly skyrocketing, then realized that she couldn't see that and quickly stammered, "Yes, that would be great! The ceremony starts at four."

"Then... let me think... we need a little over an hour for the hair and brows. Lips just a few minutes, but I think we should forego perm makeup there. You don't want to your lips to be swollen and hurting that evening, right?"

I hadn't thought about that. "Right."

"Nails too, it has to match. So another half hour. And a half hour for the tat if you're waxed. Plus there's the time to go back to campus, so you best be here at half past one."

"Thank you! That's great!" Then the other important question could no longer be avoided. "Uhm, how much is it going to..."

She didn't let me finish. "Normally, you'd be around five-hundred bucks for the full treatment."

My eyes widened. That was far more than I had.

"But in this case, I'll do the work for free. You need to pay the color and polish, but nothing else."

"Oh my god! Thank you! Thank you!" I couldn't believe she'd do that for me.

She chuckled in answer. "Just wait until the needle dances over your pussy lips. I doubt you'll be that excited then."

I wasn't so sure in that regard, but I kept that to myself. "Where exactly are you? I only got your number from Anne's phone. And please don't tell her."

She giggled and told me her address. It was fortunately not that far away, just straight down the main road and across the old bridge, so I could take the bus there and back that went every ten minutes. I thanked her profusely once more and hung up in time to hear footsteps approaching.

Quickly putting my phone back on the nightstand and racing across the room, I started to pour myself a glass of water just in time.

Anne stepped into the room, looking quite flushed and adorable, and brought the most delicious smells of chicken balls and sweet-sour vegetables with her.

"Hi, Mistress!" I greeted her enthusiastically and took a big gulp, then lowered myself to my knees.

She stopped, tilting her head and studying me. "You look rather radiant."

Bummer! She always could read me like an open book. So I decided to get as close to the truth as possible. "It's going to be a surprise."

"Must be a hell of a surprise that has you grinning like the Cheshire cat."

I couldn't stop the excited giggle that bubbled up.

She sat the boxes down on the narrow counter and started to put their contents into bowls. "You know that I could just order you to tell me."

"I know." I lowered my head demurely, hoping to give her some incentive not to do so.

She put the bowls onto the table and sat down, the chair angled slightly to the side. I started to rise too, but there it was, that tiny narrowing in her eyes.

"I don't see any reason why you shouldn't kneel." A wicked smile tugged up the corner of her mouth, and she picked up one of the breaded chicken balls, dipped it into the sauce and held it out. "Now come here, my Bunnie, and open wide."

I crawled closer to where she held out the Chinese delicacy, but when I tried to capture it with my mouth, she pulled back. I followed, and she teased me again, and soon my lower body touched her naked leg. Sending me another wicked little grin, she finally let me have it, but when my lips closed around it, her legs slid up and her foot rubbed gently over my pussy. I froze, eyes wide, and wonderful warmth spread in my lower body.

"Oh my," she whispered, slowly drawing the chopsticks from my lips, "you look just as delicious as lunch." She dipped another ball in the sauce and watched a bit of it drip back into the bowl. "And you're just as wet."

I watched her lips capture it and her head lean back in delight, eyes closed dreamily. "Mmmm," she moaned. "Wonderful!" Then she opened one eye and grinned at me. "I wonder..."

Another ball got picked up, but this time, instead of guiding it to my mouth, she bent forward and I felt her foot break contact.

My eyes widened, and she slowly nodded. Then I felt it, warm and slightly scratchy, slide through my folds.

She held it out for me. "Come on, Bunnie!" Her foot was back, softly rubbing, stirring that heat, and my cheeks flushed brightly. I opened my mouth.

"Such a lovely slut," she purred and caressed my cheek with her free hand while I slowly chewed the pussy-juice-covered ball.

I was in heaven. In kinky, naked, submissive heaven. And I knew that I was doing the right thing. It still was the craziest thing I had ever planned, but the need to show her my dedication grew with every second around her. There was still a risk that she'd think it over the top. But she had shared her fantasy, and I wanted, no, needed to bring it to life.

My hips started to hump her foot.

"Naughty Bunnie," she whispered, holding out some rice and vegetables for me.

I couldn't agree more.

* * * *

This night, our lovemaking was less sweet but no less satisfying. My welts were healing well and had faded to red stripes that were slightly warmer than the surrounding skin and very sensitive. Anne had licked my nipples gently, fluttering caresses that felt delicious, but I could see the struggle in her eyes and the need to impose her will on me that wanted to break free.

"Bite me," I whispered, and when she looked slightly questioning at me, I cupped her jaw with my hands and softly stroked her cheeks with my thumbs. "I can see it in your eyes. Don't hold back. Please!"

I felt a shiver go through her body. "Are you sure? Are you really sure?" She sounded as breathless as I felt. "If I do that, I'm going to be really rough." Her hand reached between my thighs, and I spread my legs wide, willingly. Her fingers dug into my opening, two, no three digits slipping into my already dripping snatch and spreading me open.

"Fuck, yes, I'm sure," I gasped. "Take me! If you want to stick your whole hand inside me, do it."

I could see her chest heave. Her eyes seemed grow dark. Her lips parted, as if to say something, but then she shivered again and, lightning fast, captured my lip between her teeth.

I moaned into her mouth, and she growled in answer. Her fingers started to fly in and out of my pussy, rough, slightly painful, delicious, and all thoughts turned to vapor and blew away. Her teeth tugged on my jaw, then went lower, down my neck, nipping painfully, and I arched my back and moaned her name, pleading, until, finally, my yearning, hard nipple got sucked into her mouth and squeezed.

"Yes!" I screamed, my voice shaking with the rhythm of her pumping fingers.

She looked up, eyes hazy with lust. "My whole hand?"

I trembled. The idea was crazy. God, she looked beautiful. Her fingers twisted in my love tunnel, slick and smooth, and pushed all air from my lungs. "Hnnnggg," I whimpered before I managed to draw a deep, shuddering breath. "Yes!" Thinking suddenly got very, very difficult.

The smile she sent me was wicked. "Try not to come. You'll be punished for every time you do." Her fingernail grazed my clit.

I came.