How to Break a Bad Rabbit

Heather shut her eyes with a stifled giggle. "That tickles."

"Does it now..." Sandy smirked, dipping a few more times and painting whiskers on her cheeks. Once finished, she stepped back with a smile. "Adorable." She deposited the brush in the glass, snapped the watercolor, dropped it in the basket and gave Heather a rotating finger gesture. "A'right, turn around, bright eyes."

The next Sandra took out was a case of petroleum jelly. "Now hold still," she ordered, smearing her hand. She squatted, subtly slid down Heather's panties and applied the jelly to her rear end.

Heather wasn't expecting that. She twitched, curling her fingers. She was getting a little uncomfy and embarrassed, but the audience was already very amused. Once Sandra applied a liberal layer of jelly, she gave her ass a punctuating spank, and seized the next object. It was a plastic bag with a large ball of cotton.

"Theeeere we go," said Sandy, fastening on her tail with just enough force to stick. "You are SO damn cute!" she chuckled, adoringly gliding a finger down her calf.

"'Kay, honey bunny, close your eyes, and turn back around." She swapped the baggie for a sizable, thick, large carrot, as opposed to the veggie sticks they'd fed her at the interview. Heather turned around again.

"Now keep 'em closed...and open that bunny mouth nice and wide...

"Wider..." She affixed the carrot sideways between Heather's teeth. It was large enough to keep her mouth open with her jaws relaxed. "...Aaaaand, close."

Crunch. Heather heard the audience laugh. Popping open her eyes and looking down, she couldn't see far past her black nose tip. But with a little discernment from her tongue, she determined that it was indeed a carrot.

This further embarrassed Heather, who now felt like a pig with an apple shoved in its mouth. But she left it there, knowing she'd probably get in trouble if she removed it.

"Now you're starting to look like a bunny!" Sandra exclaimed with a clap of her hands. She turned to the audience. "Now, ladies and gents, Lou gave you a one-question poll before the show. I say we do this by applause. So how many vote for choice A?"

The crowd produced a mild round of applause.

"Okay, good...B?"

A slightly milder cheer ensued.

"And...C?"

The audience roared.

"Wow!" said Sandy, returning to the basket. "I think we've got our answer; cuffs it is!"

Heather whipped her gaze to her. "Wuhh?" she asked.

Sandy threw Heather her smile and rotating finger gesture again.

"W—...wuhh uh iu guhwuh oo?" an alarmed Heather demanded to know.

Sandra manually turned the bunny around herself. "Why, honor the voice of the people, of course," she answered, fetching a set of leather-lined handcuffs from the basket. She took Heather's wrists, and proceeded to cuff them behind her back, prompting a muffled squeal once Heather realized what was happening.

"You heard 'em, Heth," Sandra told her in a no-nonsense tone. "The question was how to properly restrain you. You know bunnies; don't catch 'em early on, they run away."

Heather couldn't believe it. She hadn't been told this part. "Yoh guhwuh rie ee uhh??"

"That's right, sweetie. Option A was rope, B was chains, C was cuffs. They picked C."

An impulse was suddenly awoken in Heather. For one half-second, she tried to turn and bolt for the door. But Sandy had her by the arm and held her back.

"He—!" Sandy seized her elbow. She pushed Heather's shoulders down, making her bend over, and gave her a disciplinary sharp smack on the side of her ass.

"Bad bunny!" she admonished, triggering another whimper from the bunny and chortle from the crowd. "You're not going anywhere. Now be a good girl, and behave."

The audience tittered. Some feigned sympathy with a giggly "awww." Heather began to feel humiliated. She'd have tried to spit the carrot out, but it dug further back in her teeth. She tried to bite through it, but it was more than she could chew off. She whimpered again as she next felt her feet being cuffed.

"Almost all set, cinnamon bunny. Just one more slight adjustment to make..."

Heather felt her doing something to her back. And then a cold chill assaulted her spine as she realized what it was. Sandra was...yes...unhooking her bra.

The audience was starting to whoop and whistle. "Uhhhhhrr!" Heather protested.

"Silly rabbit, have you ever seen a bunny wearing clothes? Of course not!" Sandy came to Heather's front and tugged on the straps, which Heather desperately tried to pin down with her arms. She gave Heather another, harder smack on the side of the ass. When Heather again yelped and her guard came down, Sandra yanked the bra off her.

The audience cheered. Her breasts were exposed. The bunny lass wasn't bargaining for that. Heather knew she still couldn't do anything, but reflexively jerked about, as if she thought she could wrench out of the shackles and cover herself.

"I khauk iu kheh I wukh guhwuh hwee ih hwy hraw auh hwahheekh!" she shouted.

"Ah, ah; I said I'd bring you out in your bra and panties. I never said you'd stay in them."

With that, Sandra slipped her fingers into the sides of the panties and whipped them down her legs. Heather screamed, jerking and jumping again, but she was inaudible over the audience's even bigger cheer. She knew it'd lead to more trouble, but she tried to hop and shuffle around to turn her back to the crowd. Of course, Sandra halted her.

"Sit...still, you naughty little hare whore," scolded Sandra. Heather shut her eyes with a cringe, beginning to want to cry. She dropped her sad eyes to the floor, wishing she could sink and vanish into it. She didn't notice Sandy taking another object from the basket, until it was put to work on her.

"Bend over," Sandy ordered, pressing her down by the shoulders again. As Heather did so, Sandra uncapped the lipstick. And Heather felt a series of lines being scrawled across her back. Finally, Sandy capped the lipstick, put it away, pulled Heather back up and brought her hair over her shoulders to the front.

"Okay, now turn around." Sandra spun her 180°, making her shift her feet around like a penguin. After another second Heather heard a mixture of cheers, laughter and mock-sympathetic "awww"s. She had no idea what Sandra'd scribbled or drawn on her back—all she could concentrate on was the nightmare this "model shoot" had become. She couldn't believe she had allowed herself to be lured into this prison of shame.

Sandra turned her back around. "Now why don't we address our little rabbit friend by her new pet name?"

Heather looked into the dozens of eyes in the audience to see them shout at her—

"SLUT-BUNNY!!"

When that terrible name struck Heather's brain, it pricked her in the eyes so hard she cried immediately. It was hard enough breathing already, but standing here, cold and naked, whiskers running down her cheeks, she had to work extra hard just to circulate oxygen. Sandy fetched a pair of scissors and snipped the panties to remove them from her ankles. Heather didn't even notice. She was so mortified. Right now, this might just about be the worst night of her life; definitely top three. Sandy looked at her.

"What's the matter, bunny? You look upset. Aren't you having fun?"

In a moment of irrational ire, Heather croaked out a phrase she regretted instantly.

"Hrukh iu."

OH, no, she promptly thought. Tell me I didn't just say that. Even though her voice was muffled, she was pretty certain Sandra would still comprehend it.

And she did.

"Excuse me?..." she asked, placing an ominous hand on her shoulder. "...Just...what was that again??"

Heather started to shake, and feel a new stream of tears coming on.

"Uhkhiw. UHKHIW. I' khahwee. I' khahwee! I hwihwi hwee ih! I' KHAHWEE!"

"Are you now..." Sandra hissed, squeezing her shoulder. "That's funny. 'Cause for a moment there, it sounded like you said..."

She took Heather by the back of her hair.

"...Fuck you."

Sandra didn't have her by the hair hard enough to hurt her, just to frighten her. And frighten her she did. Heather emitted another muffled wail.

"Wihwih Khahhee, I' khoh khahwee! Hweekh, I hwihwi wee ih!..."

Eventually, Sandy nodded, releasing her grip. "All right," she said, "You didn't mean it. I will choose to believe you." She stalked back to the basket and grabbed the lipstick again. "But yet, nevertheless, when a bunny is bad, a bunny must be punished."

Sandra started writing something else across her forehead. "And this bunny," she continued, recapping the lipstick and fetching yet another object—

"Has just earned herself a new nickname."

Sandy had grabbed a hand mirror to show her. Heather looked, and immediately regretted it. Staring back at her on her brow was a reflection of the letters "TNUC."

Heather cringed her eyes shut and let a shamed whine pitifully drip out. She sank to the floor, a humbled heap of ignominy on her knees. The audience's reactions were cruel and merciless. Oh my God...some things are worse than death, she thought to herself.

"All right, perk up," she heard. Mrs. Sandra slowly pulled her back to her feet. "We're not just gonna have you stand still all evening. It's time for you to entertain our guests."

Heather held off on sobbing long enough to turn her puffy red eyes to her. "Khahw?"

"Why, how else?" Sandra answered. "By bunny-hopping, of course!"

The audience applauded. It felt strange. On one hand, they seemed to really like her...well, really like seeing her humiliated, that was to say. On the other hand, they intimidated her. And yet, the shy meekness of her nudity was wearing off. She was getting used to being naked in front of all these strangers. After all, they had being staring at her entire body for several minutes now. The one bright spot was that there was nothing left to hide. They seemed to like her body...or did they? Were they just applauding and cheering out of what passed for support?

Well, she thought, maybe the worst was over. She'd been stripped, cuffed up, publicly disgraced and mocked, labeled a slut and a cunt, and her teeth were starting to ache. But if she tried to put it in perspective...at least this had all been done now...

Sandy'd removed all the items left in the basket. She returned to Heather and commanded, "Now hold still again, my little bunny-whore..."

Heather obeyed, looking at the carpet. Her feelings were still stung, but at least the sting was starting to dull. Sandra uncuffed her left hand. Heather raised her eyes.

"Nope," Sandy said. "Don't get used to it." She slipped the basket around Heather's free arm and recuffed her. "A'right, on your knees." Heather again expressionlessly did as she said. Sandra scooted her ass up and forward, for another good look at those lovely soles. "Oh, look at your pink little bunny paws." She stroked one of them with a nail.

"Ticklish?"

Heather's body jiggled at the sensation. Her teeth sank into the carrot as her face was forced into a smile. She felt the other one tickled, and twitched and giggled once more.

"Awww...sweet little bunny's ticklish on her paws," Sandra announced. "Isn't that cute?"

Heather took an especially deep breath through the nose, having a feeling she'd be needing it. She started exhaling just in time to hear Sandy's low, scary voice intone—

"Sweet little bunny's gonna love this then."

Uh-oh. Maybe the worst wasn't over. The next thing she felt was unfamiliar. Something was being attached...to the bottoms of her feet. What was going on now?

After another moment, Sandra stood in front of her, concealing two objects in her other hand. She dangled one, a long, narrow, opaque scarf, in front of Heather's eyes and nose. "What do you think, ladies and gents?" Sandra asked. "Blindfold her?"

The audience threw out a huge cheer. Heather panicked. She gaped at Sandy, wide-eyed, begging and shaking her head. "Auh-auh," she cried. "Hweekh ohhh! Hweekhhweekhhweekh ohhh!"

Sandy clutched her chin, leering back into her sad-puppy eyes. "You heard 'em, bunny. Audience calls the shots here."

Heather Hoffen had had LASIK done to her eyes a couple years ago, a big personal relief. Her life until then involved wearing glasses for extreme nearsightedness, which she hated. Not how they looked or being teased about them, but she did hate the total blindness that assaulted her once they came off. Being blind was one of her most mind-crippling fears. She wasn't sure she'd be able to handle this.

Once Sandra tied it over her eyes, Heather began to judder, shake and whimper. The basket jumped and bounced on the side of her body. Sandra took her unoccupied arm.

"All right, bunny. 'S all right, I've got you. C'mon now, I'm gonna guide you down the bunny trail." She nodded to the audience to bring their respective baskets into play.

"Because that's the name of the first game we're gonna play; it's called Bunny Trail! And as you hop along, your guests are gonna fill up your bunny basket! Won't that be fun??"

The only thing that sounded fun right now was yanking this infernal blindfold off.

"Take my word for it," said Sandy, concealing the evil glee from her inflection. "All right, bunny, straightforward. Gets to hoppin'."

Not many noticed the thin wire running from the bottoms of Heather's feet up inside Sandra's hand. But they did notice Sandra raise her hand, and press the button.

"I said now."

"AAAHHHH!" Heather shrieked, as the jolt in her soles propelled her involuntarily upwards. She heard the big audience response, but couldn't focus on it. Prickly agony stabbed her feet, just beneath the arches—Sandy's favorite spot. It felt like being poked with a thousand tiny pins. It was a little unclear to Heather, but anyone else in the room could see there were electrodes on her tender soles, and Sandy'd just activated them.

"That's more like it!" Sandy praised. "You see? Sometimes you have to goad a wild animal a bit to get it to cooperate!" She pressed the button a second time.

"EEEEKH!" Heather squeaked, performing another painful hop in the air.

"Now if you'll just be a good little bunny-whore, and keep hippity-hopping for us, I won't have to do that again," Sandy informed her.

Heather got the picture. She stood on tippy-toe, bent her knees, leaned forward and started hopping. Her tits bobbled and bounced in all directions, delighting the audience. Sandra indeed guided her by the arm, and she soon felt bats and splats lightly pelting her, as the audience "tried" to land eggs in her basket. Some seemed to come harder than others. Some felt like they were trying to hit her instead of the basket. Oh my God, she thought. Are they trying to hit me instead of the basket?

It was hard for her to believe otherwise, as eggs whapped her in the arm, the side and the hip. But then the targets expanded to her stomach, shoulder, tit, leg, thigh, foot, ass cheek, even the side of her face. Someone popped her one on the temple, just missing her (human) ear. Besides which, these didn't feel like gentle lobs. Some of them really stung. Merriment from the crowd generated and intensified at her expense.

Sandra noticed when she got smacked in the cheek. "Oh-ho!...Talk about having egg on your face!" she laughed.

The game also tortured her psychologically, having to pause just to take quick breaths through her nose, and hope to avoid more pedal electrocution. Eventually, they reached the far side, and Sandra turned Heather around to guide her back. As the audience continued literally egging her on, Heather could figuratively see she'd been wrong. The worst was far from over. This was too humiliating for words. Heather couldn't remember when anyone had thrown such derision and ridicule upon her before. The trip back across the room was made even more precarious by the trail of cracked eggs left there in the first half. Heather broke and cracked a lot of the eggs when her feet came down on them. And did a certain amount of wincing and cringing on the way back.

The Bunny Trail felt endless. She was almost done, but when the worst thing possible happened. Just when she was beginning to think it couldn't be any worse. She landed on a half-broken egg, in just such a way that her feet cracked it open, and slipped on it. She lost her balance. The egg squirted out from under her, and so did her feet. She slid out of Sandy's grip, let out a yelp and dropped to the floor, on her (hands, which were behind her) back. The crowd gave a low "ohhhhh," feeling her pain on that one. Incredibly, her basket landed right-side up, and none of the eggs inside tumbled out.

"Oh, no!" Sandy exclaimed to the empathetic audience. "Our bunny's had a spill!"

Thank goodness the rug was soft; Heather wasn't harmed, just dizzied. Sandra helped her back to her paws. When she finally got back to where she started, Sandy let go and gave her an enthusiastic "Yay!" leading the audience in applause. Heather knelt to catch her breath and give her feet a break. Sandra took her sticky arm, uncuffed her sticky hand, removed the sticky basket, and recuffed her.

"Now let's see. You got...one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine...ten eggs! Good girl! Well done!" Some were in pieces, but the contents added up to ten wholes.

"Well, ladies and gentlemen, I'd say that deserves a reward, wouldn't you?" Sandra proclaimed. She lifted Heather's chin to see her cheeks pleading for mercy.

"Open wide," said Sandy. Heather did as told, and Sandy plucked out the carrot.

"Oh!" Heather heaved in relief.

Sandra patted her shoulder. "Breathe, breathe..." she advised. "Just take a little rest, bunny. We're gonna let you relax a few minutes."

"Oh...th—...tha—...thank you..." Heather puffed out.

They took a short intermission. Lou stopped rolling and emerged to sweep the eggshells up. Then later they'd of course vacuum and shampoo the rug.

About eight minutes later, the shoot resumed. Sandy took the electrodes off Heather's feet, toweled her off, refilled the basket with different items and brought it back.

"We've two more games to play this evening, my friends. The next one...is called Funny Bunny. And for it I'm gonna need two volunteers."

Several audience members raised their hands. "Okay, let's not reveal who you are to our bunny," explained Sandy. "We can't have her being able to expect anything or anybody in particular." She looked around. "Um, let's see, how about..." She chose two eager young audience members, around Heather's age. "...You, and...you. You two come with me..." The audience gave the volunteers a small ovation.

"Okay, bunny, why don't you go ahead and lay down, on your back," instructed Sandy, taking her arms and helping her to the floor. "Something tells me that might be a refreshing change for you."

Even though her capabilities of speech were no longer impeded by a jumbo orange vegetable, Heather said nothing. She'd no idea how she felt anymore. This experience had taken a turn for the surreal. She just sank into the soft, inviting rug, on her back, feet pointed to the audience.

Once she was down, Sandy instructed, "Okay, you two, go ahead and sit on either side of our bunny, right about torso level, that's good. I'll be down here." The volunteers perched where she asked. Sandy sat in front of Heather's feet, the three of them forming a triangle around her body. "All right, bunny," she said. "This is the reason you're blindfolded. And the reason we took the carrot outta your mouth. Here's how we play this one. My two accomplices here and I...are gonna be tickling you."