Down the Bunny Hole

by Leona D. Reish

  Down the Bunny Hole

  Leona D. Reish

  Smashwords Edition

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Down the Bunny Hole

  This book contains graphic sexual content, including the following:

  Copyright 2013 Leona D. Reish

  License Notes

  This ebook was published free of charge and should not be relisted for profit. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please consider purchasing an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use, but enjoy the author’s work, then please show your support by purchasing a copy of your own – it gives me a better gauge of audience numbers and readers the option of review. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Discover other titles, author thoughts, contact details and other things at

  http://leonadreish.blogspot.co.uk/

  Feedback, comments and reviews of my work are always very welcome. Writers live – for the most part – on knowing their work is appreciated and I am no exception. ‘Down the Bunny Hole’ is brought to you free of charge as a briefer taste of my style. I may come back to develop and expand on the story at some point if well received. I hope it delivers on a suitably intense and erotic experience for every reader.

  This book contains graphic sexual content, including the following:

  A submissive girl and her Master.

  Window-pressing exhibitionism.

  Anal sex.

  Sexual use of nondescript narcotic. (Disclaimer: This is not intended to promote or glamourize use of otherwise illegal or immoral substances and acts. Always play safe, sensible and consensual.)

  Consensual drugged/sleep sex.

  Use of full-body latex and bunny mask.

  Consensual encounter with a tentacle creature in a lucid dreamscape.

  Down the Bunny Hole

  “Today I’d like you to meet Michelle, one of the many studious and proud students of our University here. Good Morning, Ms Andersen I understand you’re currently hard at work on your dissertation. Tell us, how does it feel to be involved with such a promising field as medical science?” The sharp clink of Mike’s pen tip hitting the window of his car from the inside was the only response. Michelle Andersen was across the road, walking towards the University – slowly.

  “Ah, of course. But Ms Andersen, if I may, you don’t seem to be perfectly comfortable this morning. Do you feel the stress of your work is getting to be too much? Are you getting enough sleep at night?” The simple ting of plastic meeting window rattled through the car as Michelle scuttled around the gate and into the grounds. Bouncing the pen’s nib-clicker off his chest, Mike threw it aside. Pens belonged to the realm of gremlins and pixies, so it didn’t matter where you put it – you wouldn’t be able to find it later anyway.

  “Silly girl, you’ll be fine.” Mike’s voice then seemed a quieter, more sincere tone. You’d almost have thought his words before were some light-hearted act. The man started the engine of his car and pulled away. Now, you’re asking yourself why he was interviewing a girl across the road from his car with a pen. Mike is just funny like that, kind of guy with dark humour and an easy laugh. Kind of guy Michelle needed in her life and the sort she’d found her definition of love-hate relationship with.

  Michelle was a quiet girl – generally still is – just into her twenties, around the time where you stop asking and she stops telling. Pretty thing, in a skittish deer sort of library girl way. Sort of girl everyone knows but few remember. Brunette with soft green eyes and a chest to comfortably fill a pair of hands. Now picture her out on the town with some friends. Friends a little more outgoing that always try to drag her out of her shell.

  She was never one to really want to draw attention, but neither was Mike. Maybe that was what brought them together; irony attracting. Michelle never understood why she let it happen, but she did, and you don’t need to be told that things got out of hand to get back to where we are now. That was all of two years ago, and now Michelle isn’t quite the innocent little doe anymore. She blames Mike, and he feigns ignorance to what she means. Her Sister Beth thinks it’s the best thing that ever happened to her little Sister.

  Mind you, back to the here and now, in their apartment, Beth’s also straddling Mike’s lap. Smaller than her sister, same sharp green eyes but lighter blonde hair. She was never as naïve to begin with. “Hey, you won’t know till you get her to try it, but trust me, I’m a cop!” Beth wasn’t very good at keeping a straight face when she was joking, but she was sure about what they were discussing and Mike knew that much.

  “Uh-huh, come on, off. Michelle will be back soon and just because you have a hat and want to cuff people doesn’t make you an officer.” Mike’s way of pointing things out tended to have as much dry humour as Beth’s way of creating it. That only provoked her most of the time. Snickering, she wrapped her arms around his neck to stay.

  “Yeah yeah, but I've tried it once or twice. It's all natural, but you make it in the kitchen and you won't get the smell off the pans or walls for days.” She pointed out, clearing her throat. The thought of it seemed to fluster her some. “But ooh, now what would she think if she comes in with me your lap, huh?!" She’d always been the more playful one about things, too. Mike being the bigger guy he was just heaved and lifted her off the couch. Perfect time for the apartment door to slam open in front of them, right?

  Right. And who else but Michelle, looking like she’d ran the whole way up flights of stairs. The dilated glare in her eyes didn’t do much for her composure either, but seeing the pair like that, she straightened slowly and brushed herself off with an unnerving calm before smiling with an all too sweet tone in her voice. “I trust you’re carrying her to throw out a window, right, Mikey?”

  You'd almost think she meant it, and Mike let Beth down quick with hands in the air as though actual law enforcement had stormed the place. Beth snickered and put the hat atop her younger sister’s glare. Shopping for a Halloween party, she called it. “Out.” Michelle called it. Something in her voice lacked the steadiness of her glare though. It was hard for Mike to not smile about it; he knew what was wrong with Michelle.

  “Alright, alright. Just remember, Mikey, don't do it here or you-” Beth was in the middle of making her farewell note when her little sister – smaller in age, at least – snapped again, “Out!” and pointed at the door. Mike's soft laugh seemed to dampen and stop the electric in the air bursting, and he just patted Beth on the back with a quick nod as he pushed her out.

  “I know, go on. You girls can catfight when you have the costumes for it.” He advised, grinning down at Michelle who'd softened into a smouldering, disgruntled pout. Beth just laughed down the hall as she left, Michelle seeing to it that the sound was cut off sharp by slamming the door.

  Now you’d think after that show of a woman scorned, barely controlled quivering at the hips, that she’d chew him off. Well, not quite, though she did lunge at him pretty fast and push him back onto the couch. Before you know it, Mike's face is covered in her lips, his shirt buttons popping and tearing off. Michelle had used the last of her restraint waiting to get to be alone with him, now she had nothing left. Between smothering kisses, Mike tries to push in for words. “So y-mnh-you kept it in, huh?”

  “Y-yes, Master. Biking home it w-wouldn't stop.” Michelle was a mewling mess now, little ball of putty in Mike’s hands. All it took was reaching under her skirt to get her to wail and shake a little when he pressed down on a thick flange of rubber. That morning she'd had some extra in
structions for ‘clothing’ to take with her, and driving her in had meant she could pick up her bike from the campus to cycle back.

  “I bet it wouldn’t, and you want it out now, huh?” Mike asked in that all too calm and understanding tone. See, after she'd stopped trying to hit, hate and forget him for a couple months after that fateful meeting, Michelle realised she loved how unmoving and gently dominant over her he was. He had a way of making her forget herself and being her rock, whether she liked it or not.

  “Y-yes, Master. I need you.” Michelle was good at whining into her man, but then he had a habit of making her beg, too. One she always tried to fight off. Mike just chuckles and rubs at the plug she’s been carrying around, making her squirm.

  “Well alright, but there’s something I need you to do for me.” The way Mike just lay there, fingering the base of that black rubber between Michelle’s cheeks had a casual, almost natural and innocent way about it.

  “Please, Master, don’t make me beg, please...” And therein was one of the problems Michelle has with fighting him, she wants to submit to him by habit to the point of not even realising it. He barely has to lift a finger or the tone of his voice to get her on her knees, these days.

  “You’re already begging, Michelle.” Mike points out dryly, patting her cheek. “And it’s not right now; you’ll get what you want.” He reassures, and she drinks it up like she hasn’t had a drop of support all day, nodding and sighing in relief as she lays over him. “I just need you to handle some stuff in your lab, when you get a private moment.” So he tells her, and Michelle gets a contorted little look of confusion and apprehension.

  “B-but that’s only for academi-haah!” She never finishes that sentence since Mike just pulls the plug clean out. Sends a sharp rip of searing pleasure up her spine, making her ass cheeks jiggle and rim throb like it’s on fire. He just drops the black plug on the ground.

  “Up.” That’s all Mike says, all he has to say, really, and Michelle is bounding off him just as quick as she’d got on. She really is a hopeless little thing for him, and he knows it. Taking her hand, he just leads her through the apartment like a little lost girl till they reach the sliding glass door that opens onto the balcony. Michelle has the most lost and hopeful look about her as Mike pushes her back up against the glass, but he just smiles and kisses the silly girl, lifting her shirt up.

  She gives in to him, of course, she wants it too much to do otherwise, and when her shirt slides up high enough that his hands move onto her breasts instead, her breath picks up a notch. He pushes up the black lace cup easy and gets his hands on those soft orbs with such a tender squeeze that Michelle practically whines for more despite herself. His lips quiet her, and she squirms against him till they break with a soft smack.

  “M-Master, people will see...” She breathes out, struggling between her desire to get off and shame of doing so somewhere people in the block across could see out their own windows and balconies. Mike just smiles and takes her by the shoulder, turning her around to press her breasts flat against the chill of the glass.

  “Then maybe you should be nicer to your Sister than all that talk of putting her out windows.” Mike teased, knowing as well as she did it was harmless but gave him an excuse to push her firmly against the glass so that her breasts flattened and squished out against the surface, making her wriggle and gasp from how cold the pane felt, forcing down her nipples. She’d whine and argue if he gave her a chance, but as it happened, he wouldn’t.

  All her grinding and the kissing had gotten Mike hard for his girl, and it didn’t take much for his familiar hand to undo the buckle and buttons on his jeans or lift her skirt. Against the glass as she was, her first warning was the feel of that warm prodding that forced its way straight inside her already stretched out little ass, making her gasp raggedly and ride up against the window, smothering her breasts flatter and wider while Mike just pushes in.

  From outside, it must look funny. Michelle’s chest flat, discoloured pancakes against the glass as she stands splayed against it like she’s stuck with her man behind her. Mike’s already working on her skirt, and that comes away easy. He’s got a knack for undressing her after all this time, and he knows her body pretty well. Doesn’t take much more to get her panties pulled aside and his hand replacing it. It’s clear she’s moaning but anyone outside the window would only see the general idea of their indecent display as he starts moving and grinding her into the open display of lust.

  Sure, Michelle might protest and whine, but she needs it too much and just melts into her man. Before long she’s pushing off the glass and bucking on him, almost rubbing herself against the pane to ride out that feeling of him getting so deep and fully into her. It goes on like that for some time, the pair of them just pushing back and forth in clear view of the outside world with Mike’s hand between Michelle’s legs, three of his fingers buried in her sex.

  Going all day with the toy in her really drove her a little over the edge, so she can’t bring herself to even care or notice if anyone’s watching. Maybe the shame of being seen is even getting her off a little. She’s a mess of pleasure and isn’t thinking that hard, just grinding and sliding down against her man’s thrusts till he stops with one hard jolt up.

  Catches her off guard, though she’s not paying much attention right then and there, and just like that, one of her legs have been hoisted in the air. Makes it easier for Mike to finger her harder, deeper and faster as he whispers dirty nothings into her ear. Michelle just nods and quakes against the glass, her cheek pressed as flat as her breasts till she finally peaks and makes a pretty little mess of the window between Mike’s fingers.

  Just as well there’s no one near enough outside or through the walls to hear her scream in relief. She needed that pretty badly.

  “So you’ll do that for me, sweetheart?” He sounds distant, like a hazy little dream for her in the afterglow of such a strong climax. She can feel him inside, feel his warmth filling her so nicely and she could go again right now, but beyond that she can barely string thoughts together. She has to blink and look up at him to gather herself, but she nods acceptingly.

  “Good Bunny.” He whispers, so softly and tenderly, a strange little knowing hint of something in his voice and Michelle almost buckles at the knees, mewling softly as pleasure rushes through her again. Mike just chuckles and pats her twitching little mounds as he holds onto her for support. Much as she might beg and offer to scoot between her Master’s legs and serve him, that’s all the pleasure she’s getting tonight until she’s done as she’s told.

  Tomorrow comes and he even picks her up by car at night this time. Just a single vial, for all the trouble, but full with a potent and viscous looking white substance she’s been dilating at her lab, keeping the fumes in the draft and making less than proper use of her equipment. No one will know, and it won’t affect the end results of her academics unless she starts leaving things behind. Then it’d cause a whole number of other problems.

  Now, Mike knows what it’s for, and he’s not going to tell her much, no matter how much she pouts or prods at him. He wants it to be a surprise, so she’ll just have to wait and see. So it stands that when he calls on her a few hours after dinner, Michelle almost jumps like a startled cat at it, finally getting to know what she’s in for. She has some vague ideas about what the chemicals – natural, but an unorthodox mix – are for, but made no attempt to test it.

  “Come on, get undressed and lie down. You’re going to be out of it a bit, but Beth promises you’ll enjoy it.” Mike explains by the bed, as much as he sees necessary. Dropping her clothes and laying naked on the bed with that timidly curious look, Michelle isn’t going to be seeing much of her man from here on, but it’s something she’s not going to forget.

  He gives her the vial, tips it up just slightly for it to trickle over her tongue. It’s as thick and slow as it looks, and though it feels like a more common treat, it tastes nothing like the release of her man’s cock. It’s heady
and sour, with a taste that sticks to her tongue as she swallows, and within minutes, she blanks out. Her eyes roll back into her head and flutter shut as the concoction overtakes her, sending her into a lucid little dream world.

  Now outside, she’s perfectly fine, and Mike gets to have some fun with her effectively unconscious body, whispering little things and touching her in ways she’ll hear and feel in some way less, some way more than usual. But she won’t be waking up again tonight.

  Inside, or whatever you want to call what must be the recesses of her subconscious, everything is different. Michelle is back in the room she had before Mike. Before he changed everything about her. It’s a far simpler place, a sweet, innocent and quiet little place with her computer desk at the far wall next to a tall bookshelf past the foot of her bed. That bed’s where she ‘wakes up,’ and she knows she’s been here before, but not like this. Not lately. Losing herself in Mike has stopped that, so she’s a little apprehensive as she gets up and looks around, as naked as the moment she’d laid down.

  Everything looks the same, from the teddies to dresser, the dark window being hammered by an incessant rain with the little black stone on the windowsill to the tall stand-mirror. A faint laughter runs through her, making Michelle flinch and look around. It sounds like it’s coming from the next room, but she’s always alone in here.

  Well, alone besides what’s within, and that’s when she realises it. Looking to the mirror, Michelle finds what would only make sense to her. Perhaps to Mike, too, nothing she tells him ever seems to shake the damn man. She knows it’s just her reflection, and at the same time isn’t that at all. More a part of her given shape, a thoughtform creature with its own strength and will inside her.

  It’s a perfect match of Michelle’s naked figure. All except for the mask covering its face, the expectant twist of smirking lips and most obviously the contrast of skin. The reflection stands as a sheer black that glistens with the light, twisting and reflecting the illumination like a coating of oil. It covers head to toe, a perfect, skin-moulding sheen of wet darkness akin to latex, but much too perfectly form-fitting.