Bunny's Tale

[IsabellaRose]

Chapter One - The Easter Surprise
Part 1

 

The apartment smelled like vanilla frosting and fresh lilies, with a hint of nervous sweat and cheap body spray. Bernadette LeClair, Bunny to friends, adjusted the ears on her head for the third time, trying to get the angle just right. Playful, but not crooked. Seductive, hopefully not cartoonish.

The white satin choker at her throat itched slightly, but she didn’t touch it. She’d already smoothed the pink satin bows on the tops of her thigh-high stockings, fluffed the fuzzy cotton tail nestled just above her garter strap, and double-checked the clasp on the matching bra three times. Everything was coordinated, white lingerie, delicate lace, and more pink bows than a box of Valentine's chocolates. Even the tiny gloves she wore were trimmed in pink ribbon. Her nails were painted bubblegum blush. She’d gone all in.

She had pushed the couch back and moved the coffee table aside to make room on the faux fur rug, lit  candles, filled baskets with little foil-wrapped chocolate eggs, and staged a smiling stuffed bunny that held a card that said 'I’m all yours!' in loopy marker script on the edge of the couch. On the kitchen counter, a cake box sat slightly askew, the lid open to reveal the icing that read 'Hop Into Me' in fondant-piped whimsy. It was sweet. It was sexy. It was so not her… but wasn’t that the point?

Bunny sat on the plush rug, knees folded under her, and tried to slow her breathing. Her phone was charging nearby, screen dark. She’d left the TV and music off. She wanted him to walk through the door and see her, not hear her, not smell dinner burning, not get distracted by a sitcom laugh track. Just… her, in bows and lace and everything he always joked he wanted her to be.

“He’s going to walk in,” she whispered to herself, tucking a loose lock of hair behind one ear, “and say, ‘Oh my God, Bunny. You look amazing.’”

She smiled, imagining his face, his eyes wide, his mouth open with stunned gratitude. She could practically hear his voice in her head, the teasing approval, the proud little smirk when he told her she was full of surprises. Tonight, she wouldn’t be the boring one, the background one, the predictable one. Tonight she would be the fantasy.

She stretched out on her stomach across the faux-fur throw, arching her back just enough to make sure the bunny tail popped right where it was supposed to, the curve from her waist to her hip highlighted. She giggled. It was unlike her, giggling, and it felt silly, but it had come out all by itself. Maybe she was inhabiting the role a little too much.

“Eat your heart out, Jessica Rabbit,” she said to herself.

The room was silent. She checked her phone. Nothing. Then, just as she reached for the wine she’d been pretending not to notice, her phone made a “ding” sound, the notification of a new text message. She swiped it up.

Brandon: Running late. Don’t wait up. Drinks with the guys

There it was… a dismissive single sentence. No 'sorry.' No 'rain check.' No 'can’t wait to see you.' Just beer and bros and not her. Bunny blinked once. She blinked again. The bunny ears on her head drooped slightly as if they reflected her mood. Her breath caught in her throat, then came out in a soft laugh, bright but brittle.

“Right. Of course.”

She opened the wine, pouring herself a full glass without ceremony. She didn’t even bother moving from the floor, she just spun around and sat up, curling her legs back under her as she sipped and stared up at the ceiling, her white-gloved fingers idly twirling the pink bow at her hip.

“Guess I’ll just seduce myself, then.”

She took another sip. The room flickered in candlelight, cozy and stupid and romantic. She could almost pretend it didn’t sting. Almost. She took another sip, then a gulp, and then downed the rest of the glass. The wine warmed her throat, a pleasant little burn beneath the sweetness.

Bunny didn’t cry. She didn’t even frown. She refilled her glass and sat there in her bows and lace, surrounded by pastel cheer and soft candlelight. She drank wine, trying not to think too hard about how many times this had happened before.

There was the time he forgot their anniversary, told her afterward he didn’t forget, he just didn’t think “month-aversaries” counted. She drank more wine. The time he showed up late to her promotion party and spent the night talking to her boss’s assistant instead. More wine. The Valentine’s dinner where he asked if they could “just chill” because he was stressed from work. Even more wine.

He never yelled, never hit, never called her names. He wasn’t abusive, not like her ex had been. He just… wasn’t there. And every time, she made excuses for him. Every time, she told herself he’s just not great at romance or guys don’t always know how to express things or I can’t expect him to read my mind. Every time, because he wasn't the absolute worst, she took the blame and bent herself into something softer. 

Tonight had been her idea. She told him, “Come home. I have a surprise for you.” He sent a thumbs-up emoji.

Her glass was empty again, so she refilled it and reached for the remote. Maybe she’d just play some background music, something gentle, something to fill the space. Her finger hovered over the power button, then she set the remote down. No. If he came home, she wanted it to be quiet. Wanted him to hear the hush of her breath, the flutter of her heart. She wanted the moment to mean something. Because… because maybe tonight would be different. Maybe he just needed to see her like this, to be reminded of her, of why he’d ever proposed to her in the first place. Maybe she could still be the woman who turned his world inside out. Maybe…

She felt stupid thinking about it, but when she stood up, the wine hit her all at once, heavy in her limbs, making her head feel full and fuzzy. The room swam for a moment and she sat back down, steadying herself. Thank God she hadn’t put on those ridiculously high heels he liked, the ones that made her look like a stripper. She forgot the couch wasn’t there and leaned back, almost falling backwards. She caught herself and laughed, feeling silly. She just needed to rest for a moment. It must be the dim candlelight that made her eyelids droop. She curled up sideways on the rug, one arm under her head, the other resting lightly on her bare stomach. She moved her stockinged toe through the soft, fuzzy fur of the rug. She closed her eyes, and in her half-dreaming haze, she pictured him finally stepping through the door with a gasp, a grin, a whispered, “Holy shit, Bunny…”

 

He would gather her up and kiss her slow, tell her he was sorry, that he was wrong, that he couldn’t believe how lucky he was… And she’d believe it. Just for a little while. The room blurred around the edges.

He loves me, she thought. He just forgets sometimes. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t care. She let the thought rock her gently into sleep, curled in bows and hope, dreaming of a man who loved her like she loved him.

Edited 19 hours ago by IsabellaRose

[IsabellaRose]

Chapter One - The Easter Surprise
Part 2

At first, the dream was just warmth. A sun that didn’t burn, a wind that smelled like lilacs and sounded like laughter, a distant sound of bells or flutes or maybe just a different kind of laughter… it didn’t matter.

She was lying on grass that felt like velvet, her bunny ears fluttering in a breeze that kissed her bare skin. Someone… was it a woman? …whoever it was, someone was tracing her shoulder with fingertips like silk ribbons. Someone else whispered to her in a voice like honey, promising nothing she had to earn, only pleasures offered freely, lovingly. She turned her head and saw faces.

A man with yellow eyes and a teasing grin sprawled beside her like a lounging predator, his shirt half-open and his gaze full of mischief. He reminded her of a wolf, or maybe a fox, something canine and hungry, but more amused than anything. A pale woman in a gown of shadows and starlight leaned in clsoe, her lips hovering just above Bunny’s collarbone as if waiting for permission to worship her. An elfin figure with sunlit curls murmured poetry in a language Bunny didn’t speak, but somehow understood. He was comparing her beauty to that of a Goddess.

There were more. Shapes and forms blurred around the edges, beings with tails, with long ears, with eyes that glowed and teeth that nipped but never hurt. Their hands were warm, their mouths soft, their intentions clear. They want me. It was a kind of want with which she was familiar, the hunger of the flesh, but it was also more than that. They wanted her laugh, her thoughts, her joy, and they wanted to give her joy in return. They asked how she felt, how she liked to be touched, what made her heart skip. One of them knelt before her, eyes reverent, hands cradling her waist as if she were made of moonlight and sugar.

“You give pleasure like others breathe,” someone said. “And you deserve it in return.”

Someone kissed her wrist. Someone else kissed lower. She laughed, open and unguarded, and no one mocked it. They smiled, as if her laughter were the most sacred sound in the world. Every gaze that met hers said: You are enough. You are wanted. You are adored. She felt more desired than every before and oddly safe in the middle of that hungry group.

I could live here forever, she thought, naked in a field of flowers, their arms around me, their hearts open. I could finally be… home.

Bunny lay back on the velvet grass and basked in the feeling, the sun warming her skin, surrounded by her dream lovers, their touches gentle yet insistent, their eyes filled with a hunger that sent shivers of anticipation down her spine. The man with yellow eyes leaned in, his breath hot on her ear as he whispered, "You are a feast, Bunny. And we are starving."

The woman in the gown of shadows and starlight trailed her fingers down Bunny's arm, leaving a path of goosebumps in their wake. "You taste like honey and sin," she murmured, her lips brushing against Bunny's collarbone. "Let us worship you as you deserve."

Bunny's breath hitched as hands and tongues and lips began to explore her body, each touch sending waves of pleasure coursing through her veins. The elfin figure with sunlit curls kissed her deeply, his tongue dancing with hers as his hands roamed over her curves. She could feel the evidence of his desire pressing against her thigh, hard and insistent.

Meanwhile, the man with yellow eyes trailed kisses down her neck, his teeth nipping gently at her skin. "You are too much for any one man, Bunny," he growled. "We are going to show you just how much you are wanted."

The woman's hands found their way to Bunny's breasts, her thumbs circling her nipples through the lace of her bra, sending jolts of pleasure straight to her core. Bunny arched her back, a soft moan escaping her lips as she surrendered to the sensations overwhelming her.

One of the other figures, a man with the body of a human and the horns of a goat, knelt between her legs, his breath hot on her inner thigh. He looked up at her, his eyes filled with a mix of mischief and desire. "May I?" he asked, his voice a low rumble.

Bunny nodded, her words lost in a gasp as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of her panties and pulled them down and off over her stockinged legs, exposing her to his hungry gaze. He leaned in, his tongue tracing a slow, languorous path up her inner thigh, before finally, mercifully, reaching her most private spot. He took his time, exploring her folds with a dedication that left her breathless and quivering.

As his tongue delved into her, the man with yellow eyes positioned himself at her lips, his cock hard and ready. Bunny took him in her mouth, her tongue swirling around his shaft as she sucked and licked, her head bobbing in time with the movements of the goat-man between her legs.

The woman's hands never stopped their torment, her fingers rolling and pinching Bunny's nipples, sending jolts of pleasure straight to her core, where they mingled with the sensations caused by the goat-man's tongue and lips.

Bunny was lost in a haze of pleasure, her body on fire with need and desire. She could feel an orgasm building, a storm gathering in her core, ready to explode and consume her. She moaned around the cock in her mouth, her body writhing and arching as she sought release. The goat-man's tongue worked miracles, his fingers joining in, one, then two, stretching and filling her as he curled them, hitting that sweet spot that sent stars exploding behind her eyes.

The man with yellow eyes gripped her hair, his hips bucking as he fucked her mouth, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. The woman leaned in, her lips capturing Bunny's nipple, sucking and biting gently, her hands roaming over Bunny's body, touching, teasing, driving her wild. Bunny could feel the orgasm building, the storm ready to break. She moaned around the cock in her mouth, a loud, desperate sound, her body trembling with the effort of holding back.

"Let go, Bunny," the man with the yellow eyes said, his voice strained with effort. "Let us feel you come undone."

And with those words, she did. Her body convulsed, her inner muscles clenching and releasing around the goat-man’s fingers as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her, threatening to drown her in its intensity. She screamed, a loud, primal sound, around the cock in her mouth, her body bucking and writhing as her lovers held her down, their touches, kisses, and words of encouragement sending her higher and higher. It lasted forever, but was over in an instant.

As she floated back down to earth, her body slick with sweat and her breath coming in ragged gasps, she looked up into the eyes of her lovers, their expressions filled with a mix of satisfaction and pride.

"You are amazing, Bunny," the goat-man said, his voice soft and gentle as he stroked her hair. "Absolutely amazing."

The man with yellow eyes leaned down, kissing her gently on the lips. "You deserve more than we can give," he said.

Bunny smiled, a contented, sated smile, as she snuggled into the circle of their arms, her body still humming with the aftermath of her orgasm. She had never felt so loved, so wanted, so completely and utterly satisfied. And as she drifted off to sleep, surrounded by the warmth and safety of her dream lovers, she knew that she never wanted to leave this place, this feeling, this perfect, sensual, fulfilling dream.

But the loud crash of the front door didn’t give her a choice.