The Bunnies of the Bay Area Ch. 01

The note's perfect cursive handwriting was brief: "Nathalie, I made this just for you. Wear it and come work for me - forever. Love, Maria." The paper had a fold in the corner where a pair of lips pinched the paper leaving red lipstick marks outlining Maria's perfect mouth.

A knock at the study's door prompted Bunny Nathalie to look-up from her desk. The Purple Bunny assistant meekly peered her Bunny-eared head inside from behind the heavy oak door. Nathalie had hoped for more assertiveness from this assistant. The woman was a redhead and they were supposed to make good feisty Bunnies.

The shy girl announced, "An elderly lady insists on seeing you - she used your title of 'Bunny,' mistress. I had the lobby guard on the ground floor send her and her dog upstairs. She's in our front hall now."

"Name please."

"Oh yes, the lady said to say: Electra. Just Electra."

"Damn it." Nathalie stood and closed the silver case. She thought for a second. "Bring her up. Wait, get Meredith to put this away, then go see Electra." The Purple Bunny carried off the silver case as Nathalie began locking away papers.

Putting away some more things, Nathalie gave another look over her office, locked another drawer, and stuffed the key down her cleavage. Through the wall, she heard the private elevator motor start-up from the main hall. Some people took the grand marble stairs. Oddly Electra took the private elevator. Nathalie had to move faster and check everything. After another quick inspection, she double checked a painting that hid a safe. She moved around the room and gathered some half empty glasses of water and set them behind a built-in cabinet door. The sound of steps and some metal banging from down the hallway grew louder. The purple costumed assistant guided in a decrepit lady of at least eighty years of age hunched over a walker that took the weight off her scuffing pair of orthopedic shoes. The walker's rubber feet marked the white marble floor. A leash attached to the walker tethered a German Sheppard in tow. A simple glare from Nathalie sent the assistant off closing the door leaving the two women alone.

"Cut the crap, Electra. I can see you clearly." Nathalie could chose to experience either the false sight of a grandma near death covered in a odor of "nursing home" or the reality of a tall sexy lanky body of a bikinied showgirl with yard long feathers sprouting from a tail and headpiece. Bunny Nathalie, being out of practice, squinted at the dog to see through its mental camouflage too. There actually was no dog there. Instead there was a shiny black latex coated woman standing tall but tied to the end of a leash. She was a fetish puppy girl, who dropped to her knees and held her front hands up like paws. She wiggled her hips as a sign of greeting. An all black dog-masked obscured her identity.

Electra stopped projecting the old bitty and dog illusions. Not many could see through her creations.

Nathalie knew that the front door man and the other Bunnies would always be oblivious to Electra's camouflaging powers. The head Bunny looked again at the puppy girl. "That better not be what I'm sensing it is." She walked over and with her fingertips gave the latex girl's chin a slight lift to examine the eyes framed in a latex canine mask with a protruding doggy snout. "Do you want a war? We burned down San Francisco the last time."

"She was licking-out one of my showgirls in my own house in the Presidio. That's an automatic imprisonment just for invading my territory, let alone the attempted seduction of my secretary - let alone, it's my fucking house!"

"I don't know this girl." Nathalie walked away dismissively. "She's not one of mine - that is if she ever was a Bunny at all."

"It's San Francisco. She's a Bunny - or used to be. That makes her yours, period. I know you sense she's a Bunny. Don't try to deny it."

The puppy girl's head looked up, turning left and right to follow the discussion like a tennis match. She appeared a bit lost. Maybe the poor thing no longer even understood human languages. Nathalie tried not to care.

Electra straddled the puppy girl from behind and played with the floppy latex doggy ears. She lifted one of the earflaps and bowed to get her lips next to a human ear smoothed over in latex. "Little puppy-wuppy. Now that you are at your new home I want you to know, you'll never speak again. Never." She laughed and straightened the poor girl's floppy beagle ears. "Puppy girl suits are a prison for a human mind." The tall showgirl gave a little smack to the back of the submissive's head.

Nathalie saw the girl's fearful eyes. It seemed as if the girl could follow English after all. The puppy girl glanced at Nathalie, a sister Bunny for confirmation.

Nathalie stood motionless, her arms crossed, her butt pressed against her desk's edge. Her tail had pushed over a pencil holder. This liquid smooth fetish popsicle really was a Bunny after all. Electra was now pissing her off.

Electra exaggerated her enjoyment of caressing the latex surfaces from the girl's head down to the butt. The action forced an instinctive doggy move of raising the butt into the air as the elbows were pressed to the floor. Electra continued to torment the creature. "You can't sign, wink, speak, write - nothing - not ever. No human communication. Enjoy it bitch."

The girl received a spank on the ass from the showgirl and responded involuntarily with a happy looking butt wiggle. Her eyes contradicted the happiness with a flash of helpless pleading aimed at Nathalie.

"I'm afraid it's true darling," acknowledged Nathalie. "You are in for a maddening experience of eternal isolation. We haven't found the way out yet. Sorry."

"What Nathalie is saying is that ever since the first woman in the 1600's was burnt naked with hot tar poured over her body and then feathered, no one has ever escaped this branch of the costume family. No one."

Electra threw the end of the leash towards Nathalie's feet. "Your Bunnies are also hanging around too long in the Cow Hollow District - that's neutral territory, but only for safe passage - brief safety, which they are abusing by obviously setting-up shop."

"Watch yourself," warned Nathalie, referring to any further latex fetishing. "I will take care of any Bunnies."

Electra arched a long nylon covered leg above the puppy girl's head as she stepped over the poor girl. Tail feathers dragged across the sad black latex creature as the showgirl took a few steps towards her foe Bunny in a face-to-face stand-off of egos. The showgirl strengthened her tone adding, "The Presidio and the Marina are mine. Control your rogue apprentice, what's her name," she acted like she had to remember, "Bunny Maria. After all, us Saloon Girls and you aristocratic fancy peacocks don't mix."

Nathalie let her anger - or maybe angry lust - show. She felt intoxicated by Electra's smoky shaded eyes with speckles of glitter. "I'd love to feather you and silence you forever with a bird's beak. Besides, who is the strutting peacock now?" She gave one of the yard-long showgirl feathers a flick to the side.

Electra put her hands on her hips just above her glittering rhinestone covered bikini panties. "I so want to strap you up in leather and buckles, stick a ponytail-plug up your ass, and jam a metal bit in your mouth." She licked her wet lipstick lips, "I'd whip you everyday. Really. I promise." Her opera gloved hand did a motion over her breasts to cross her heart. "I would." She posed with a pout and completed the hand gesture by patting her chest just above her left boob, signaling a little pitter-patter heartbeat.

"Would you like a lizard tail that you can wag or," said Nathalie pausing to relish another idea, "a mermaid tail maybe?"

"Ooo, a Selki seal!"

They both stood nose to nose, each taking deep breaths that lifted their breasts almost to the point of touching each other. They exhaled into each other's faces. It was too much for them and they leaned in the tiny distance remaining and pressed their lips together careful not to touch elsewhere. The ground began to rumble. The penthouse began to shake. Dust fell from the ceiling as the light fixtures began to swing. The clamor stopped when they pulled away.

Electra stepped back regaining her composure. Her wide spreading tail feathers slapped around the puppy girl's face and a nearby side table as she pretended to inspect the selection of books on display. She strutted around the perimeter of the office doing a bad job of trying to hide that her real need was to calm her sexual urges.

She noticed the executive swivel chair behind the huge oak desk. She caressed the leather chair and noticed its cut-out opening at the lower back perfectly designed for a Bunny tail to protrude through. She also paused at another feature strange for an office chair: the right armrest had been rotated up creating an open gap on the slide, a perfect pathway for a costume tail to slide in and out from the side. The missing Lumbar support was an invitation to her.

"Hm, I like the chair," Electra said. "I should get one." She swung her feathered tailed ass around, sat her bikini butt on the right edge of the chair and slid into place. Her huge radiating feathers mounted at her tailbone slid right into the gap. The front of her bikini was covered in sharp rhinestones, but the back was satin. "Don't worry my costume won't hurt the leather." She adjusted herself, checking that her feathers were safe. She popped the armrest back into position and smiled smugly back at Nathalie. Enjoying the chair, she kicked her heels up and rested the backs of her nylon covered feet on top Nathalie's desk. Her tiny feet had the thinnest strappy stiletto shoes Nathalie had ever seen. The showgirl's tail feathers pressed up the chair's back and were long enough to peer over the top like a supportive chorus line.

Nathalie knew the showgirl probably never sat and relaxed in full costume like that. Showgirls typically had to take their tails off to really sit. Such disrobing in front of other costumed girls, especially of different types, would be too submissive for Electra. 'Costumes,' that is the girls trapped in costumes, all had their unique hang-ups. This showgirl was a tough one to get along with, going completely Joe Pesci if she felt disrespected.

"I miss the old days," the showgirl said. "When did we last talk? Kennedy was still alive I think?" She checked Nathalie out: the dark nylons, the blue Bunny costume, the bare shoulders. "Why did you switch to being a Bunny anyway? I liked your feathered tail."

"Same reason you became a Showgirl," said Nathalie walking around the desk to join her feathered foe. She stood facing the reclined chair, taking a second to see Electra's midriff, the tight abs, and the diamond mounted in the bellybutton. Nathalie leaned back against her desk with her arms crossed in front. She crossed her ankles and leered down at the showgirl's body on display. The Bunny went through a mental list of options. She queried her costume for ideas. It had been so long since Electra and her conversed. The chance shouldn't be wasted. Her costume thought otherwise. Electra didn't know it, but the chair had left her at a disadvantage. Nathalie listened to her costume's hesitant feelings. Maybe, in this case, she should let the moment pass.

"Ah, I was in Vegas then," said Electra, stretching her arms out trying to look in control and relaxed. When she let her head fall back against the chair, her headpiece feathers dusted the bookshelves behind her. "It was the 60's - women's rights, bra burning." She grabbed her glittering crystal covered bikini top and gave her jugs a firm squeeze. "And, of course, for you, the Bunny Clubs." She then popped the right armrest up, slid out sideways, and stood.

Nathalie hoped her Bunny costume was right. The chance to trap Electra was gone, but Nathalie decided that this conversation could be a starting point to something more.

"The costumes wanted change," said Nathalie. She liked keeping Electra on edge and was trying to think of a lever to pull. "Personally, I liked you in a slutty corset better. All though, that little diamond in your belly button is cute." Maybe that remark would seem both a little cold and hot.

Electra pouted her lips and rubbed her opera gloved fingertips over her flat tummy. She actually looked appreciative. She took a breath. Nathalie could read her old friend. Electra was probably thinking sexually and trying to hold back. The showgirl most likely worried that if she got wet now, she would have to hide it. Being caught so sexually aroused was something she wouldn't dare do for fear of looking weak. The showgirl walked around the study stepping with a crossing action in her legs to give her thighs a squeeze against each other. She projected a more confident walk forgetting that Nathalie could see through the illusion to the reality of a slower less settled gait.

"Get them out of Cow Hollow," warned Electra, opening the oak door to the hallway and projecting the old bitty image all around her body like a blazing mental fireball for all to see.

Nathalie squinted to see the real Electra again. It was like the tips of the feathers were electrified, but Nathalie could still catch a glimpse from the side of the showgirl's cute ass and bare hips before the lanky creature scuffed her high heels down the hallway all while playing her role of a harmless old hag.

The Purple Bunny, sitting across the hallway, stood to attention. She let a magazine she was reading drop to the floor as she scurried with quick short stiletto-heeled clicks to get a look at her mistress. Seeing a quick curt hand wave from her Bunny boss, she turned to escort the old biddy down the stone hallway to the private elevator. Once the elevator lowered down one level, the two women slowly stepped short paces towards the front door. Nathalie could hear the Purple Bunny awkwardly try to small talk as she helped grandma out to a public hallway that offered a half-dozen elevators down to the lobby, thirty floors below.

Nathalie watched from the marble railing just outside her office upstairs.

Electra hadn't bothered to look back; a little act of defiance. It worked actually. Nathalie had wanted to see her lover's face for another second. She sighed having hoped that the showgirl would look back.

The Purple Bunny opened the penthouse front door to the public elevators.

Electra wasn't going to look. No glance or goodbye. It wasn't fair that a curse kept them apart.