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?"