The Bunnies of the Bay Area Ch. 02

Abstract: Bunny Nathalie finds the Bay Area's Bunnies are proving to be a hard bunch to keep under her control.

Wearing a business suit with the shortest tightest jacket and skirt combination possible to intentionally traverse the edges of acceptable office attire, Bunny Darbie kissed a bare chested blonde and pushed her back onto the floor.

The blonde was too shocked to speak or fight back against the straddling petit interloper, who was a foot shorter, but very determined and confident.

"We should close the door," whispered Darby. A quick leaning reach followed and the office door slammed shut. "Now we're alone."

"But, but..." said the blonde, holding her naked breasts with one forearm while trying to push Darby away with other hand, "I'm not gay." Her black high heels dug into the carpet as she pushed back away from Darby's body.

"You're so cute. But remember. You called me for help. Right?"

The blonde reflected for a moment in confusion with a look that said she didn't know where to start. "No one will believe me." She needed help so badly. Shame filled her soul. "I put on the Bunny costume, like the one you had. God it was good. So so so yummy. I wore it all weekend, but now since last night, if I take it off, another grows in its place. I have a stack of 'em at home - all different colors. It electrocutes me each time it grows back. It's like a punishment for not following its will." Her head nodded frantically as she remembered a solution she found. "Oh yeah! I made a deal with it. It doesn't talk, but I think I made a deal with it."

"Ooo," coed Darby, not really interested. "What did you promise it? Did you beg?" She smiled now, somehow enjoying a secret she wasn't about to share.

A startled look flashed on the blonde's face. She skipped the taunting questions. "I barely got to work on time this morning. It allowed me to wear a dress. It's like it's got'ta personality of its own. I had to leave on the undergarments though, but then somehow my dress started falling apart by noon. The pieces just fell to the floor. Thank god you came here so quickly. I have no clothes here. Only my shoes are left. I'll be fired. The board meeting's in a few hours. And now it, it..."

She looked down at her half naked body, letting her arm fall away, revealing her boobs. A waist cincher covered her midriff stopping just under her breasts. Tucked beneath the laced boning, two layers of pantyhose shimmered in Moiré patterns as her legs were forced open while Darby pushed herself between. The outer shear tights added a dark smoky tint. The inner shear hose added a barely noticeable nude color. Under the cooling silky slipping hosiery that Darby's hand stroked, two intruding plugs held deep inside.

The blonde didn't seem to notice Darby kissing her bare shoulders or Darby's long light brown hair cascading down brushing over the goose bumps - the office AC was on, or the fingers pinching the nipples. The blonde skipped all that. She focused on a bigger issue.

"Dildos grew inside me," confessed the blonde. "Look - I mean, you can't see them, but..." The blonde extended her neck to stare over her chest. She viewed her own crotch while she pressed a thumb against the pantyhose, stretching them down and inside. "If you press here, you can feel the end of a dildo just under my clit."

"Don't worry, I'll touch there too. Hm, yes there is something in there. Hm. Wait a sec. Hm. Yes. Do like when I do that? Is it big?"

"And there's one in the rear. I couldn't remove 'em." The blonde paused. "Oh no. It's happening again."

"Shhh," said Darby. "This is what I've been craving. I've had a bad day. Mmmm. I can feel the energy around you." She took in a deep breath. "Isn't it wonderful?"

"Watch," said the panicked blonde. She squeezed her eyes shut in preparation. "It's happening. Rrrrr. It hurts." Her hands flew to grab her head, but then hesitated with only a light touch near the hair. She wanted to firmly grab at her scalp, but previous experience taught her avoid interfering. She didn't want to anger the costume.

A baby blue satin covered headband suddenly grew from nothing, pinning down a part of the blonde's trusses. Satin ears grew upwards and curled forward slightly. The blonde moaned as electrical shocks covered her body.

Darby closed her eyes and happily sighed. In fact, she hummed. "I love feeling it happen to someone. It's best if they're new. Maybe..." She looked at the ceiling thinking. "I get off on the fear and desperation. I'd rather think it's because I can mentor them - help their eager to learn souls." She looked back down and smiled. "Nope. Desperation and panic gets it for me."

The blonde breathed as if in labor. "It's. Like. It's. Punishing. Me," moaned the blonde, with a plosive push on each word while trying to whisper in a confidential office voice, but the pain was too much. A matching colored satin shell grew across the cincher and covered the blonde in a strapless bathing suit. "Not again."

Darby showed a caring pity as she gently stroked the blonde's face. "This light blue is pretty on you. I like it. Wear it tonight - you're place. Unless you want to play maid, then mine. I've been busy."

"See?" said the blonde, waving her hands over her satin covered body. "Oh no, the necktie really hurts."

A white shirt collar with a black bowtie magically appeared around her throat. Her wrists suddenly had white French cuffs and cufflinks. Her feet now had matching faint blue colored high heels. The black shoes were gone now. With a lift of her rear, she pulled out a large cottontail from underneath. She looked terrified, not because of the sudden magical exhibition, but because she probably shouldn't have pulled off the tail she found herself sitting on.

"Oh god," exhaled the blonde. "I'm going to be punished for doing that." She looked away from the plush white ball and gave a wide-eyed plea to the woman on top. "Help me."

Darby silently kissed and then sniffed down the neck and across the two mounds of flesh pressed up front and center by the pastel azure satin Bunny costume.

"But, but, I told you, I'm not gay."

Darby smirked. "You don't have to be silly girl. It just helps to periodically scissor a woman now and then - ok, every two days is best. That's all."

The blonde's breasts heaved as she struggled to breathe. "What's happening?"

"You need sexual energy. I brought you a dress, by the way - for you to use this afternoon during your big boring board meeting sales pitch whatever. Wouldn't want you to lose your cute little executive jobbie now, huh? Shh." An index finger pressed on the blonde's lips. "You just need some tender loving and then you can strip down to the cincher again. I'm certain the dress will fit. A little affection gets you a few hours time-off from being imprisoned in an internationally famous, degrading, objectifying sex-symbol. I still love it though." She shrugged her shoulders like it was all so trivial. "It'll be decades before you'll every take off the cincher and hose. Unless you're really slutty. Tell me you are one of those. You know what I mean. Mmmm. Say it - even if not true."

"But how will I. You know. Ew."

"Shhh," said Darby, kissing again. "Too many questions. No worries about the bathroom. We don't eat food anyway. Now relax. Just feel." She rolled to the blonde's side and with one hand reached under to the zipper. With a long draw down towards the hips, she unzipped the blonde's Bunny suit. That hand then pressed up on the back, lifting the blonde's rear an inch of the floor. The other hand pushed down between the legs, the forearm rubbing, as the fingers found the zipper tab. She finished opening the satin shell. With a firm grip on the satin running between the legs, Darby pulled it like a handle. She stared at the woman's body while slowly sliding the heavily boned corseted shell down the legs and over the baby-blue closed-toe high heels. She loved how during the first tugs, the edges of the bra cups tried to hold the erect nipples inside for a second of dignity until the flesh popped free.

"I love your Alice blues," said Darby, talking about the satin costume being set aside. "Aw. Are we lost down the rabbit hole?"

The blonde's brow furrowed. "What have you done to me?"

"Made you my little slutty sex slave quickie afternoon delight, of course." Darby hiked up her skirt and straddled a thigh. She slid up the leg until both women's buried intruders met. "We're going to help each other now and then. Eventually, you'll manage on your own, making your own network of fuck buddies. But let's be clear. You're mine."

*****

After escorting Electra to an elevator, the Purple Bunny assistant immediately returned to Nathalie's office and unexpectedly found a latex clad woman crawling on the Oriental rug.

Nathalie handed over a leash. She felt perturbed by the situation and with visible agitation checked her dark brown 1960's style bouffant hair in a mirror, then her lipstick.

"Mistress, um uh, who's this?" asked the assistant. "How did she get here?" The Bunny looked around thinking about Grandma and the German Shepherd. A realization showed on her face: is this the dog?

"A former Bunny," answered Nathalie. "Electra knows we can't talk to her directly - probably thinks we can't even read the poor thing's mind either, but we have to try anyway. Rub her. Do it right here, right now."

"Yes Ma'am." Without hesitation, the Purple Bunny closed the study's oak door and kneeled down in front of the confused upright sitting puppy girl. Pressing her satin covered breasts against the puppy girl's latex cast chest, the assistant concentrated in silence for a moment.

The puppy girl awkwardly retracted her hands up against her shoulders to make room for the Bunny's contact. Pulling her rubber covered head back and aiming it to the side so her extended snout wouldn't hit the Bunny's face, the puppy made a baffled look up at Nathalie.

"Stay. Heel," said Nathalie.

The Purple Bunny began to grind their chests together in short up-down motions. Despite the added brisk series of breast rubbing, the costumes refused to talk to each other.

"Nothing," said the Purple Bunny.

"Rub her arse," ordered Nathalie. "Both of you, in line. Hurry up, girl. Move!"

The latex girl allowed herself to be posed so her head, elbows and knees were pressed down to the floor. The action invoked a pet's instinct to raise her derriere up high, making her hindquarters more 'available.' The two obedient girls pressed their rear-ends together, sliding soft satin against shiny veneer.

Nathalie watched, thinking of the intruding dildos worn under her own costume. She could feel both deep inside her body. The two girls on the floor dry-humping each other, almost tribbing really, would be forcing their dildos in deeper. Every Bunny had the intruders. Surely the former Bunny, now a puppy girl, still had hers too.

Feelings of envy began to overwhelm Nathalie. Her costume wanted to join in. The thoughts and longings were pushed into the her mind. She expected that. Her costume loved this stuff. But she knew the importance of keeping her control. Regardless, holding back the rush of magical desires sapped her willpower. But no, there wasn't time for such pleasures. As the twerking continued, Nathalie started a mental teasing game between her mind and her costume's lustiness. The satin soul urged for participation. She denied it. Not fully satisfying to the supernatural wants, Nathalie's strong mettle forced a duel of wits to be the only redress for now. Joining in on the rubbing was so tempting though. An aura of danger surrounded the puppy's costume. Trepidation helped Nathalie suppress the flow of naughty desires.

A few minutes passed. Twerking turned to desperation, shown in the wider more frantic moves of the Purple Bunny's derrière.

For the mistress Bunny, holding back and just staying on the sidelines became excruciating. She so wanted to kneel down and play, go wild. She could have done so much better than her assistant.

"I'm sorry my mistress," said the redheaded Bunny, "but her costume is silent. I see, that is, feel and hear absolutely nothing."

"Lick her out," said Nathalie in a perfectly controlled tone that hid just how badly she wanted to push the assistant away and do it herself despite the dangers.

"What?" protested the assistant.

Nathalie's stern look meant the worst was true.

The Purple Bunny turned and pressed her nose along the seamless crotch, right between the butt cheeks of the puppy girl.

The silent fetish girl responded, quickly adding an exaggerated Cirque Du Soleil contortionist curve to her spine, pushing her shoulders even lower to the floor, and stretching her arms further along the carpet: all done to press her essential spot of ecstasy into the Bunny's face.

The licking began. The latex suit eagerly cooperated, allowing the Bunny's tongue to sink deep inside.

Nathalie watched closely, crossing her arms and leaning back against her desk -all to keep control of herself and her lustful costume. She knew exactly what the Bunny would experience. Hopefully the assistant had been practicing or else this could go so very wrong. The latex would want more. It would invade the mind. The Bunny would have to govern the magic.

The assistant Bunny cringed her eyes when her tongue somehow passed through a new opening slit in the latex that wasn't there a second ago. She could now taste the puppy girl. But the redhead didn't hesitate. She continued to lap her tongue over the clit and around the borders, feeling the base of a dildo like those typically installed in all Bunnies. She started to steal images from the puppy girl's mind. With her tongue still fully involved, she awkwardly talked with the lisp of a dentist's patient shot-up with Novocain and a mouth stuffed with gauze. "I, um, see Wunny Maria."

"Who is she - this puppy girl that is? And get in deeper. Really get her motor going." Nathalie moaned in her mind: mmm, yes get in there you dirty girl. She flinched at thinking such distractions. Control. She had to control herself.

The assistant Bunny pressed her tongue in and stroked around the folds in what was hopefully the right spot. Her white Bunny shirted cuffed wrists raised up along the shimmering thighs. Her hands grabbed the gleaming hips to get a firmer position. The assistant struggled to talk. "Twisha, a Berkwalley wohst wrad woodent."

"Trisha, a post-grad student from Berkeley," repeated Nathalie. "Good."

"Wunny Waria. Wastoom."

"Bunny Maria. Costume. Keep going. What is Bunny Maria doing? What costume?"

"Whe wis." A few more licks were added and the Bunny's tongue seemed to get stuck.

"She is - what?"

A look of alarm and some hand waving followed. "Welp." One of her white French Cuffs flung to the floor. Its cufflink rattled about near-by.

"No. No. Keep talking," said Nathalie, getting angry that the Purple Bunny was making so many mistakes. After all, why even bother to train if you aren't going to use the knowledge correctly? Nathalie huffed: the dumb dolt. So much teaching and coaching going to waste. Other Bunnies would have killed for such mentoring.

"Wut the watex. I weel the watex!"

"I know. I know. You can feel the latex. Your costume might change, but keep talking as long as you can."

"I w-on't want woo wee a wuwwy wirl. Welp wee."

"Hurry you fool or you will be a puppy girl. Tell me more. Focus. You can get back on track. Follow your training. Push her fetish away and keep yours."

The Bunny pressed more of her tongue inside around the spot its glued tip stuck. Tears formed in her eyes.

Nathalie calmly said, "I promise to have you mounted in the museum. I won't dare let you feel helpless and trapped. I promise. Now keep talking. You don't have much time. Describe Maria's house and where it is."

"Wuppy wirl, a wawn wor Wunny Waria."

Nathalie translated to confirm. "The puppy girl was just a pawn for Bunny Maria." She motioned for more information, especially when she noticed the purple satin costume turning to latex. The sheer smoky dark tights also turned liquid black. The Purple Bunny ears flopped down morphing into latex sheets hanging to the sides of the licking girl's head. The shiny sheets rounded in shape become oversized floppy beagle-shaped ears. The cottontail deflated and sank into a molten black tar that smoothed over the rear-end leaving a perfect mirrored car finish. The assistant's panic probably prevented her from noticing just how fast her transformation progressed.

"Hurry," said Nathalie. "Give me some real details." The Bunny costume disappeared. The accessories were changing now as the liquid spread over the bare shoulders and down the arms. "You idiot. Think!"

The morphing Bunny's bowtie fell to the floor and began to unwind its knot like a snake sliding its curves over itself.

The girl honestly tried. She strained her mind. She focused her thoughts for a moment as her high heels merged with her latex covered legs, forming calve hugging boots. "Wait, Westhnuth weeth. Wu-whee-wour-wour Wes Wue-wee."

"Did you say, 2-3-4-4 Chestnut Street?"

"Wes. Wow welp wee, wrease!"

"We could have found her Cow Hollow place soon enough. She hasn't been exactly hiding that. Try to picture any other place this girl was, with lots of women, or the first place she saw Maria. You have to focus."

"Wrease! Wunny Wathawie," said the tongue-glued girl, trying to pronounce her mistress's name. The assistant's eyes implored. Latex surrounded the dark eye shadow. Her hair disappeared under a smoothed scalp, painted in a perfect reflecting finish. Desperately she pulled her face away stretching her tongue out to its limits from the magic converting her so fast.

"Waiy!" She stopped pulling. She could see a single image. "Wirst Wank of Wankerwisko." She looked up for approval. Then searched hard for it. Then hoped beyond all hope for it. Did she do well? Then she concentrated and said as clearly as she could, "Preese - Wunny Watharie! Welp mwe!"

Her face suddenly pulled free of the girl's behind. A smooth black leather dog snout grew, covering the center of the former Bunny's face. It hid her nose and mouth. It was built with a thick leather sheet rounded over into an upside-down box with metal rivets holding the folds to form a triangular doggy nose. Straps crawled the face, one growing between the eyes, others searching along the sides to reach around the head. One-inch in width, the belts held the floppy ears and doggy nose accessories tightly in place. Short stubby whiskers, three on each side of the nose, grew out to complete the caricature of a dog's face. The ex-Bunny rolled across the floor shaking her head fighting the transformation. Black liquid covered her body head to toe. Her gloved hands groped and grabbed at the head straps as she tried to peel them off.

As the assistant writhed and turned, stretching, pulling, and bending her body; her neck extended just enough for Nathalie to see under the snout. The girl's red human lips showed underneath. No gag. Black liquid coated the chin and around the mouth, but left the lips untouched. Still the assistant wasn't speaking. Despite the terrified thrashes of her body, there were no screams of panic. She wasn't even grunting. The fetish prison denied her from uttering a single sound, as she rolled around on the floor in a bought of complete terror. The fetish had taken her over enough to isolate her in a world of puppy loving behavior. She silently struggled until she fell face down. She just stopped moving.

Nathalie stepped forward, leaned over. Had the girl suffocated? Passed-out? Maybe the costume was too much. Shit. Now she'd have to train another assistant. That would be three in a hundred years. Unacceptable. Or was it four? She looked back down keeping a distance until the latex activity waned and stopped its want to transform women. Danger surrounded any contact. Nathalie gave a gentle touch with the tip of one of her high-heeled deep blue pumps. She stepped over the body. Another gentle kick followed with a disappointed huff.