The Bunnies of the Bay Area Ch. 03

"Stop wasting my time," said Maria, still probing Libby's mind. "I don't care about the staff. Forget the Goths. Where are the real terrifying ones?" Maria's hand squeezed the librarian's soft long neck. The defiance was strong. "Show me the enforcers. Museum security has a pair of them chosen randomly each night. Given that, you couldn't have conspired with even one of them, let alone disappear them all – one or two at a time -- not without them figuring it out. It's full proof security."

"Almost," whispered Libby, fighting Maria's psychic powers. "But they had one day this last Summer when they all got together. That's all I needed."

"All of them? You mind fucked them all at once? Stop showing me Goth girls. Show me the scary ones. The security team."

In the memory, a long parade of cheerleaders rushed into the same training room, passing Libby and the two Goths. Pom poms waved. Bright red and blue short-skirted uniforms rushed about. Sexy high energy blondes and brunettes and redheads and long straight raven haired girls, all covering the spectrum of every nationality, did cartwheels. They all chanted alphabetical-nonsense: "Give me a D – for death. Give me C – for carnage..." The dozen girls formed a circle and their pom poms aimed to the ceiling in one final building yell as they all rushed into a tight huddle in the center of the room.

"That's more like it," said Maria, remembering the horrific method cheerleaders could kill a woman in a costume without ending the magic and therefore not violate the most sacred rule of protecting a costume from harm. Transformations were a loophole. She had seen a cheerleader kill only once before. A quick mental scan – and, yes -- Libby had seen the monstrous act too. They both knew the terror.

Libby and Maria shuttered at sharing a memory of so many frightening, happy, pretty little bouncy cheerleaders -- pure leviathans. The snug sweater and short knife pleated skirted outfits could transform any costume. And worse, could disconnect a costume from its host, but only by killing the human. The technique violated no rules of protecting costumes since only the human died. Technically, the costumes thought of themselves as the host and the human as a mere parasite.

A petit bubbly blonde took center stage. "Today we have to punish a French maid," said the captain of the deadliest cheerleader squad in the world. "I know. It's cruel. Try not to enjoy it too much, bitches!"

Two cheerleaders dropped a girl in frills and puffy French maid fetishness onto the floor.

"Please," begged the French maid. "It was a costume party. I promise never to wear another theme again. Never!"

The captain smirked then turned with a skirt twirl. "Practice on her girls. Feed on fucking her over. Oops." She feigned shock covering her mouth in regret. "Pardon my French. I meant: let the cunt have it."

The two guards repositioned the maid's broken and battered body. Giving up on perfecting a model pose, they rushed away from a pile of sobbing tears and frilly lacy white petticoats. Her hair hung down bedraggled, covering her face. She looked up, peering through her loose locks, as the cheerleaders lined up single file. Her costume knew life was over.

The first wide smiling acrobat did a split. Holding her arms straight out, she turned like a gun turret, aiming her pom poms directly at the maid.

"No!" screamed the naughty French tart.

"Shoot!" said the captain.

Both pom poms zipped across the room sticking to the chest of the target. The long plastic strands came to life, and the balls of bright school spirit colors crawled over the costumed woman's body.

The maid swatted helplessly at them, gritting her teeth as she pleaded. "Help!" Her teeth clenched closed as her lips blurted, "Help!"

"Just open your mouth," said the captain.

"No!" said the victim with her teeth gritting harder.

The captain raised a hand. "You're just making it worse." She swung her hand down, signaling a full barrage of pom pom firing. Colored strand clumps flashed across the room. When a cheerleader shot her ammunition off, two new pom poms magically appeared covering her hands. If fast enough, she shot again. Otherwise she ran or tumbled to the back of the line, making room for the next enthusiastic skirted storm trooper.

The maid became doused in a living animated crawling cloud of color. Some Koosh balls lingered at her face. Many changed strategies and crawled under her skirts. The white petticoats, the black satin covering outer skirt, and the tiny white apron bubbled from the pom poms searching underneath.

"No!" yelled the maid, accidentally opening her mouth. "Mmmm!" she murmured, suddenly gagged as a waiting pom pom push down her throat.

Both Maria and Libby knew the pom poms had gotten under the panties. The living intruders had gone deep inside – all of them. The volume under the puff diminished. The costume's cinching corset layers burst open, ripping along the seams. The maid's belly began to inflate into pregnancy. Her costume lost the battle and it too change. It took only seconds before it all ended.

The firing squad applauded. Their reloaded pom poms waved. Some girls flipped and kicked and dropped into splits. Except for the captain, the cheerleaders abandoned the firing line. They started a new round of cheering after a quick huddle and energetic teambuilding yell.

Left behind, crying on the floor, sat a specimen of the worst primal fear of all costumes: a dowdy woman in brown tweeds. A flowery printed grandma blouse collared in wilted frills hid underneath a dull worn jacket. Clunky shoes replaced the sleek high heels. And worse, beyond any nightmare for any sexy magical costume, an adjustable waistband had been sewn into the tweed skirt. The alteration allowed a comfortable fit around the expanded belly.

The Bunny and sexy librarian relived the events and shuttered simultaneously. Only a cheerleader's method of killing a costume's human host could be worse -- at least to the two women. Their costumes clearly instilled a feeling at that moment -- like a correcting teacher's slap of a ruler -- that a dowdy transformation was worse and completely unacceptable. For the costumes, death was preferred.

Maria shook the horror off and dug deeper in the librarian's machinations. Before the firing squad, Libby had helped the second Goth suspend herself. Both hung from the ceiling as the pom pom volley started. A smell of musky perfume began to fill the air. Libby had concocted something and sprayed it like an air freshener.

The Goths kicked and flailed at the ends of their ropes.

Libby stood there immune to it all.

The cheerleaders slowed and struggled.

"Bull shit!" said Maria. "Those cheerful bitches are impervious to everything."

"I researched it, you stupid Bunny. I found the source to our costumes' power."

Maria pierced into Libby's memories. No hiding would be tolerated.

At first, the cheerleader captain shook off the musk, ignoring the unknown feeling of vulnerability. She put her hands on her knees to condescendingly hover over the dowdy victim. "We don't change costumes, now do we?"

The gagging pom poms had pushed down into the former French maid's stomach. "No," said the drab woman in shame. She looked down at her nine-month looking distended belly. She saw her unmoisturized hands, the unpolished nails, and worse: the deplorable bulky shoes. A mirror held by a glowering cheerleader confirmed the horror: a crooked nose. "My face!" Sobbing followed. She cried aloud to the ceiling in despair. She tried to fall forward onto the floor, but her large stomach blocked her. Her legs splayed around her extra weight. Her loose skirt provided no ridiculous puff so loved and played with. The skirt didn't even have the other variant of tight tautness designed into cheaper mail-order slutty maid uniforms.

Waving the mirror away, the captain added, "Two years ago, the last girl – now she was made really ugly. No one wanted her. It took years before her water broke. Eventually she gave birth to a vuvuzela."

The new Miss Dowdy looked confused.

"Vuvuzela -- the horns played at the World Cup in Brazil. It must have hurt to push out. Before her, normally a twirling baton was birthed. Oh my god! One pregnancy – I saw a marching band bass drum crowning. It still blows my mind. If you just didn't fight it, you wouldn't be carrying all our pom poms inside you. All you had to do was welcome your deserved punishment – then you'd be ugly and ordinary for a while – your costume would be stuck forever though. It would hate you, but you should have ace[ted your fate."

The woman rubbed her large belly. "How long? I can't go back to the Milpitas mansion. The other maids won't want me now. I'm useless to them."

"Tisk tisk. Depending on how slutty you attempt to be, you'll be out in months. Then again, looking at you, more likely years. Go to San Jose. I hear the engineer guys down there are desperate."

Maria began to choke the librarian. "How did you control them? No perfume could do it."

In the memory showing the training room, a wafting scent created fear and panic, then obedience. The cheerleaders suddenly stopped in place. One realized the deception and, just before succumbing to domination, aimed a pom pom at Libby. The pom pom did not shoot. The process was too fast. To be safe, the curator threw a smoking canister back at them.

Outside the memory, Libby laughed at Maria. "There's something older and more scary than any costume or furry has ever seen."

The memory of hypnotized cheerleaders, brought Maria out of the mind meld. "But how?"

Libby smirked now. Her independence caught Maria off guard. A hand moved. Something clicked and the librarian squirted Bunny Maria in the face with a perfume bottle Darby involuntarily handed over.

Darby covered her mouth in horror. She remembered being spritzed too. She stepped back to the laser behind her. She couldn't speak or move, now or then. At that moment she realized she had helped the enemy. The perfume bottle was made by Libby, prescribed over a month ago and stuffed in the cleavage of the yellow Bunny costume. The scent ensured loyalty and needed to be applied when obedience to Libby waned and needed a recharge. Darby gasped. She had just betrayed her Mistress Maria. She watched as her Bunny Mother, her boss, her Mistress was being squirted in the face again by something in Libby's hand – something handed over so obediently: the perfume atomizer.

Maria swiped at a strong scent and wetness on her face -- her shoulders. It stained her costume.

Darby remembered how her own costume fought a mental attack, but lost.

Regaining her composure, Libby pushed away from the display case. She mouthed a thank you to Darby. Now free and clear of the red lipstick marks drawn all over her face, Libby sashayed to a display box.

Maria struggled to breathe. She dropped to one knee. "This, isn't, possible."

"Yes it is," said the dominating curator. Removing a key from her cleavage, Libby used it to unlock a case. She lifted its clear box just a sliver enough to remove two Victorian leather bound novels hidden under an exhibited magician's top hat. "Here's two girls from security. You want to see them?" The books hit the floor. Libby polished her glasses as she passed both Bunnies. She dipped her glasses into the laser light. It connected with her original sexy spectacles, physically unreachable behind the glass. The new pair recharged. "I loved kissing those bitches. I left the Goths hang there for days before I did them. Oh how they screamed. Secretly, I think they liked hanging there helplessly. Thank the gods that the training room is sound proof. I seduced each statuette cheerleader, one a day, until I had a stack of books."

Darby struggled to move. She knew what awaited her Mistress: the loss of control – the obedience.

The two books on the floor began to dissolve into smoke. A pair of obedient cheerleaders rose from the cloud. One girl may have been the captain. The books were gone, replaced by the entranced cheerleaders.

"What!" objected Maria, swatting at her shoulders at some mysterious fumes. "Darby run!"

Darby watched intensely. Her body just stood there. Her obligations to her real Mistress, Bunny Maria, slipped away like so many times before. Each trip to the museum was a betrayal to Bunnies everywhere by helping Libby connect with the glasses. The memories of each trip were removed from her memories. The hand she had covering her mouth in shock dropped to her side. Her body froze. What was happening? Her mouth moved. "I must obey my Mistress Libby."

The two cheerleaders rushed Maria. Each grabbed an arm and forced the Bunny to stay on her knees.

"How dare you!" yelled Maria. "And how? You're just a librarian."

Libby laughed and rubbed her face clear of the lipstick. She inspected her reflection in a glass display of vagina jewelry. "Silly rabbit. I'm no longer just a sexy librarian. Not now. For decades I wished I could grow back my accessories like you Bunnies. My outfit seemed so limited. Yes. I booked the entire cheerleader squad. I turned each one into a classic novel from Jane Austen to Hemingway. I've been alone in the museum for a month now. Well kind of alone. I serve a higher power now -- thanks to the laser."

Libby gave Darby a spank below the cottontail. "I wasn't expecting you to bring Maria. Conquering your boss does feel yummy though. Thank you." She shook her head at Maria. "Sorry, I don't have a peahen. I don't know why Darby told you that. And yes, Darby was going to stay here forever. What would you do, war with Nathalie? Ha! But now, I sense you've been scheming on something too. Something really trully juicy. Darby told me how you are still trying to takeover that men's club. Why?" She hovered over the struggling Bunny, her skirt pressing taunt against the Bunny's face. Fingers played with the hair. "Set new territories maybe, but this is somehow personal. I feel I could use you. Lucky you. Otherwise, I'd kiss you into a comic book and burn your paper prison with you screaming inside."

"You really would do that," said Maria, looking up, her arms twisted out in a crucifixion by the two cheerleaders. "But how? You can't hurt a costume. You're one of us."

A perfume squirted onto Maria's face. Spurt after spurt accumulated until the make up began to run. The Bunny costume tried to rebuild the look, restoring the make-up and removing the black water tracks of eye shadow that ran down to the satin shell.

Darby could see the facial stings across Maria's face, as her costume tried its magic in desperation. Suddenly the eye shadow would look perfect again. Then it ran down the face with more added perfume. It seemed silly, but the costume wanted to regain some control.

"What's your interest in men?" asked the librarian, tugging up her pencil skirt. The inverting inner lining clung and rustled against the skin and stockings. The beautiful rounded pantied rear showed

"Fuck you," said Maria. "You can't make me talk."

"Fuck me? You got that right. Now, taste me."

Maria could smell something in the air. Her nose twitched like a rabbit, sensing an animalistic mating scent. She didn't need a cheerleader to hold her head forward anymore. She clearly now wanted to face up into the raised skirt. Darby remembered the feeling too: the desire, the need. If she could, she'd drop to the floor and lick Libby herself. Her mouth actually watered. She wasted thoughts wondering if she was allowed to swallow. Maybe she was supposed to drool, standing there watching.

The two cheerleaders let go. Maria struggled, watching her hands involuntarily raise to touch the nylon stockings and sense the smooth silk up to the thigh-high lace. Her face looked at the garter belts. She lifted her Bunny body, standing on her knees just enough to kiss between Libby's legs.

Darby remembered the taste, when her will power melted away. They were now both somehow Libby's slaves.

As Maria's greedily licked and tasted, her hands gently and carefully grasped Libby's hips. The librarian turned to Darby. She pointed back and forth between them and mouthed the words, "I did this to you a month ago." She shook her head in pity and gestured down to the bobbing Bunny ears. "Yes, I did."

Libby pulled the ears off Maria, tossing the Bunny's perfect hair around. She threw the satin headband off into a dark corner. She tapped Maria's head. "Restore them. Now." She tossed trusses of Maria's brunette hair about, this time frizzing it.

Maria gasped for air. "You're just a secondary costume with..." Pain painted her face as a new set of ears grew in.

"I love that. Even if it does hurt, I wish I could have grown my glasses back." She pulled the new ears off. "Again!"

Maria moaned. Her disheveled tresses pulled themselves back into a preened bouffant hairstyle. New satin ears appeared and curled forward in an artistic curtsey, perfect for a well groomed Bunny.

Libby laughed and snapped her fingers at Darby. "Slave. Stop standing there. Work." Libby looked down. "Keep going Maria. Taste me. Become one of my minions. You're no longer Bunny Maria. You're Minion Maria – I love alliterations." She reveled in having the Bunny reach up under the raised skirt and pull down the panties. "Mmm. Now who's getting naughty? I've never been done by an experienced Bunny. Darby's work is a little mechanical." A mouthed sorry and pout shot out to Darby. Libby stroked the Bunny ear tips that tapped her silk blouse while Maria worked away. The fingers threatened to pull the headband accessory off again. "Faster my little slave. You're tongue is so angry with me. I like a hateful tongue too, but you might as well give in and enjoy making me orgasm. Be careful, because I might fill this room with so many copies of your Bunny ears."

Darby remembered the pain and why she wished she could have left her ears at home. Instead, she subconsciously left them unpinned and loose. She subconsciously tricked Maria into coming – the whole peahen story a lore and hope that her more powerful boss would take control of Libby. And instead, the enemy took control.

Libby pulled the ears off Maria yet again. Another set grew back. "I love that with you Bunnies. Of course, it doesn't hurt me one bit." She raised her hands into the air in victory and giggled. "Let's do it again."

*****

Thirty floors above a ruckus of bimbos preparing for sleep, Bunny Nathalie sipped wine as she looked through her bulletproof glass windows. From her San Francisco penthouse overlooking the Bay Bridge, she could see across the Financial District and the Embarcadero. In terms of costumes -- a term designating women in magical outfits – she ruled the city. Like any kingdom, rebel groups conspired. But tonight she wanted to enjoy. She tasted a deep red Porte. Regrettably, her costume somehow disintegrated anything before it even hit her stomach. It left an endless hunger. She missed the buzz she used to get with saloon whiskies, the buzz her costume denied her.

A few blocks over, Bunny Maria was probably rebelling away, making a new transformation outfit. Nathalie wondered what that woman was up to? A hallway grandfather clock chimed, echoing midnight throughout the main hall. Down in the subbasement the others would be sleeping. Nathalie thought how she should probably relax too. The next few days were going to be busy.

"Bunny Nathalie?" came a voice.

Nathalie smiled and returned a look of mischief over her shoulder.

Reddie stood at the bedroom door. Her fiery hair hung down behind her shoulders. Her purple ears timidly peered from behind the door. The name 'Sekhet' came to Nathalie's mind, an Egyptian goddess with the mane of a lion and the body of a woman. Secretly, Nathalie loved furries more than costumes. Electra did too. Sekhet: it didn't sound sexy now, but it was once a very sexy name.