Welcome to Slate City
Part 4- Sir Gregory’s Pub- Day 1
I woke the next morning feeling every aching muscle in my body. I was not a happy camper.
“Time to get up, bunny,” said Higgs. The bearded, thick-bodied guard set my breakfast on the floor next to the cell door. “You start your assignment at Sir Gregory’s Pub today. We leave in an hour, whether you’re done with breakfast or not.”
I sighed and rolled off the cot. My shoulder, wrist and ass were throbbing, with heat as well as pain. My aching nipples were rigid and I really wasn’t happy to still be walking around naked in a room with dressed men. And one look at my breakfast told me all the horror stories about jail food were true.
Officer Higgs remained in the cell doorway.
“Bunny,” he said, gruffly but not unkindly, “when yer spoken to, acknowledge it.”
Sigh. “Sorry. Thanks for the 411.”
He continued staring at me.
I sighed again and added, “Sir.”
He nodded, then reached forward and patted my tattooed bottom. “Good girl.”
I gasped, feeling the pressure of his hand through the bandage on my ass. The pain from his heavy pat I had expected, but the sudden rush of endorphins caught me flat-footed.
Higgs saw my cheeks color and he laughed. “Jus’ be a good bunny and you’ll be fine,” he said. Then he left the cell.
*****
I had no idea what to expect on my first full day as a bunny, but I was almost optimistic as Higgs and Blackmoor drove me to Sir Gregory’s Pub. Surprisingly I was left uncuffed, although a leash was locked to my collar, with the other end wrapped around Blackmoor’s wrist. But best of all, I was actually allowed to wear clothes for the first time since I got tagged. It wasn’t much- just loose athletic pants and a belly-baring half-tanktop- but it was a lot better than being driven around naked, even if I was still barefoot. I never thought I’d be grateful for being allowed to wear panties.
The two guards were drinking strong coffee and feeling magnanimous, so they gave me a rundown on Sir Gregory as we made our way there.
“He was quite the adventurer, back in the day,” said Blackmoor. “Trekked through the Crystal Mountains, the African jungles, even did some arctic exploration.”
Higgs was busy driving, but he nodded his agreement. “Yep. Much man, that one.”
“And now he owns a bar? Um, sir?” I said.
Higgs changed lanes, then answered. “He’s retired now, but the man still enjoys a festive lifestyle. Wine, women and song.” His voice had a tinge of envy.
“You drink there? Um, sirs?” I said.
“Sure,” they said in unison.
Blackmoor said, “The pub setting’s a bit of a throwback, sure, but it’s a great place to drink. Fun environment, you know?”
“Nothing like a cold pint and a game of darts after a day’s work,” echoed Higgs.
Blackmoor nodded. “Good bar snacks, too. Nothing that’ll kill you.”
“And some damn fine bunnies,” said Higgs. “Well behaved. You’ll fit right in.”
Both guards burst out laughing. Comedians.
*****
We parked in the alley behind the pub and I was brought in through the back door. The same back door I had run through when I was trying to get away from the police after being set up by Max. It looked different now when I wasn’t looking at it through the lens of adrenaline and uncertainty. Hard to believe that had been just over two days ago.
The apparently infamous Sir Gregory wasn’t available when we arrived. We were instead met by the hostess, an attractive woman in her forties named Wendy. The guards knew her.
“Hi, Wendy,” said Higgs. “Just delivering the bunny intern. Sir Gregory around?”
Bunny intern. Cute.
Wendy smiled a greeting. “Good morning, officers. Sir Gregory’s not here at the moment. He went to pick up some cases of Darkview Black.”
“Good stuff,” said Higgs approvingly. “Will absolutely grab you by the boo-boo.”
Wendy shuddered. “A vile beverage. No boo-boos are safe.”
The guards laughed. Higgs said, “Anybody around with authority to accept the bunny?”
Wendy glanced over her shoulder. “Give me a moment. Mr. Pierce should be in the back.”
Higgs looked mildly surprised. “At this time of the day? Kinda early for Jeremy to be here, isn’t it?”
Wendy nodded. “Inventory. There’ve been a few irregularities. He and Sir Gregory are doing a count. That’s why Sir Gregory himself is picking up the Darkview Black.”
Higgs nodded. “Makes sense.”
Wendy smiled. “Wait here, please.”
Higgs looked at me. “Jeremy is Sir Gregory’s nephew. Gregory’s the owner, but it’s really Jeremy that runs the place. He has almost as much authority as Gregory, even if he doesn’t have the ‘Sir’ in front of his name yet. He’s a good guy, pretty easy-going, but he runs a tight ship. Same with Wendy. She’s in charge of the girls. She smiles pretty, but don’t piss her off.”
Higgs was speaking casually, but it seemed like good information, so I was paying attention.
Wendy came back a minute later with a guy I presumed to be Jeremy. He was a couple inches over 6 feet and moved like a predator. He looked youngish, but he had the thick shoulders and heavy muscle of a man in his thirties. I decided to believe the muscles, not the face.
He was also the guy who had pointed me out to the cops the night I got caught.
Jeremy stepped forward and extended a casual hand. “Mr. Higgs and Mr. Blackmoor. What can I do for Slate City’s finest?”
Higgs returned the firm handshake. “Mornin’, Jeremy. Just dropping off the shiny new bunny. Meet Jane Doe. You may remember her from the other night.”
Jeremy looked at me. “Vaguely. Only saw her for a few seconds. So this is our girl, is she?”
Their girl? Their girl?! Fuck that. I met his glance straight on and stuck my tongue out at him.
Higgs covered his eyes with his hands. “Oh, Jesus, bunny…”
Wendy looked furious, but Jeremy just laughed. Jerk.
“She’ll be fine, Mr. Higgs,” said Jeremy. “Thank you for the delivery. We’ll take it from here.”
Higgs shook his head. “Good luck, man. This one’s a handful. We’re pretty sure she’s not from around here.”
Jeremy shrugged. “Breaking bad habits is no big chore. And I’d say you’re probably right about her not being from around here. Too skinny.”
I’d had enough. “Why does it matter where I come from?”
I thought Wendy was going to faint. Higgs’ grip on my leash tightened imperceptibly. Apparently even his patience was being tested. “It doesn’t, bunny,” he said. “Now shush.”
“Fine,” I grumbled. Then feeling Higgs’ eyes on me, I added, “Sir.”
Higgs glared a moment longer, then relented. He turned back to Jeremy and held out the handle of the leash.
“Here you go,” said the guard. “All yours. We’ll be back for her next week.”
And just like that, I became a pub bunny.
*****
I watched Higgs and Blackmoor leave. It was weird, but I found myself missing them in a way. They were part of the Slate City justice system, a system I already hated with every fiber of my being, but at least I knew where I stood with them. Hell, Higgs wasn’t even a bad guy, at least when I wasn’t pissing him off. Now I was just a bunny in a public setting in a strange city, part of an institution I knew nothing about.
Of course, with them gone, that meant I was no longer in a jail setting. Freedom was on the other side of the closest unlocked door.
Almost as if he sensed what I was thinking, Jeremy dropped the leash and took a step forward. He reached out and slid a finger through the front ring of my collar and curled his fingers into a loose fist, preventing me from moving my head- or my body, for that matter- in any direction. Jerk.
He smelled good, though. Masculine. Powerful as fuck. Almost like Captain Zachary or Sir Cosmo. I could feel myself getting wet from his scent. Fuck.
Jeremy held up what appeared to be a white pebble. “This is a proximity stone. It’s to keep you from straying.”
He pressed the stone against my band and I felt a surge go through the collar, warming my throat. We remained like that for several seconds. Then he released the ring and stepped back. I found myself strangely breathless. What the hell?
“All done,” he said. “Wendy is going to show you around and explain how things work here. You will do exactly what she tells you to do and you will do it the way she tells you to. Understood?”
He was a guy used to being obeyed. Grrrrrr. I grunted. “Yeah.”
He took a step forward then, back into my space. He didn’t say anything. Just stood there. But he seemed to become taller, more powerful, his muscles showing more definition. His scent, his fucking scent, was an aphrodisiac. My pussy lubricated hard, my nipples became rigid. My legs became shaky, weak. I felt myself dropping to my knees. Where I belonged. A man, a fucking true man stood before me, his presence overwhelming mine. His potent, weighty cock hovered inches away. A formidable tool for a powerful man, to be used as he saw fit. He moved marginally, a slight flexing of his violent muscles quivering with repressed strength, nothing but his will stopping him from taking me and doing whatever he wanted to me, nothing to stop him from filling me with seed, turning me into a helpless joytoy, breeding me like an animal, satisfying his primal urges on me-
I gasped as he stepped back. He stared at me expectantly.
Oh, gawd. My cheeks colored. Still kneeling, I looked at the ground. “Understood, sir,” I said, my voice strained.
“Try again,” he said, his voice resonating inside my head.
I panicked for a moment, then got it. “Understood…Master.”
Finally satisfied, he turned and left the room. Several heartbeats later, I exhaled, able to breathe again.
Wendy waited for me to struggle back to my feet before commenting.
“Because Sir Gregory is such a commanding presence, people sometimes forget that Jeremy is a Slatian Alpha as well. Not as experienced as Sir Gregory, obviously, but a power in his own right. You would do well not to forget that, bunny.”
No fucking kidding. My first time wearing underwear in three days and they were already drenched.
Wendy walked to the door. She moved deceptively quick, much like a model combined with a corporate exec. “All right, Jane, I’ve only got a few minutes, so let’s get you settled in, shall we?”
I followed her through the door. “Lead on, Wendy. And by the way, my name is actually Eliza.”
Wendy came to a stop and turned back to me. “You’re new to being a bunny, and possibly new to Slate City, and you’re here for the purpose of initiation to your position, so I’m going to overlook many of your mistakes in the upcoming days. I am, however, going to clear up misconceptions as they appear, and that starts now. You were assigned here by the Slate City police department under the name of Jane, which means that is your name until I am told otherwise. The only ones who can tell me otherwise would be Jeremy, who would be unlikely to do so, or Sir Gregory. Is that understood, Jane?”
I gave Wendy a sullen nod.
“Good,” she said. “Now let’s clear up a few more misconceptions. As long as you are here at Sir Gregory’s Pub, most of your instructions and duties will be assigned to you through me. My title is Hostess, but I run the service floor and I answer only to Jeremy and Sir Gregory. So when I speak to you, bunny, you will answer me. And when you answer me, bunny, you will refer to me as ‘ma’am’, not Wendy. Because if you refer to me as Wendy or anything else again, bunny, you will be serving drinks to our customers naked. Have I made myself perfectly clear, bunny?”
Sigh. It hadn’t taken me long to fuck up things. Time for damage control.
“Yes,” I mumbled.
Wendy continued staring at me.
“Um, yes, ma’am,” I added hastily. Dammit.
She let her gaze linger a moment longer before she turned and resumed walking.
I followed after her, my bare feet padding along the wood floor. It felt weird walking around a public bar without shoes.
We entered the main room. It was large but cozy, with dark wood and brick everywhere. Solid, heavy furniture accompanied by comfortable padded benches, with sturdy stools lining the crafted wood bar. Various-sized bottles of liquor lined brightly-lit shelves behind the bar and framed pictures filled the walls. Very much an English pub ambiance to it, but with multiple modern touches everywhere. Large and small video screens were everywhere, showing sports of every type, from golf and bowling to football and rugby. Side areas that were only slightly smaller than the main area offered pool tables and darts.
It was early in the day, but already a few customers were sitting at tables eating.
Wendy waved a hand at the dining area. “We don’t open to the public until lunchtime, but we have a number of rooms available for overnight rental. And for other purposes as well. Breakfast is available for anyone staying in the rooms.”
“It’s like a hotel then?” I said. “Um, ma’am?” I added quickly.
She glanced at me momentarily, but satisfied that I had caught the slip in a timely manner, she moved on. “Not precisely a hotel. The rooms are available for short-term or long-term stays, to be sure, but we’re a pub, not a hotel. They’re meant more as a convenience for someone who’s had too much to drink and are unable to get themselves home. Or perhaps they want to take advantage of the pub amenities.”
“Take advantage of the amenities? What amenities? Er, what amenities, ma’am?”
Wendy looked at me significantly.
I clenched my teeth, suddenly understanding. “You mean bunnies, don’t you?”
Wendy beamed beatifically. Stupid city.
We walked over to where a barefoot honey-blonde in a short stretch skirt and a tube top was polishing a tabletop. She was banded, with a green collar encircling her throat. It wasn’t hard to figure out she was a bunny.
“This is Ginny,” said Wendy by way of introduction. “Like you, she’s a bunny. She’ll help you get settled in and can answer questions for you.” She turned to Ginny. “Ginny, this is Jane. Show her around, then take her to Deanna. Tell Deanna to get Jane a uniform and to put her to work afterward. If anyone asks for me, I’ll be in the kitchen counting food items.”
Ginny nodded, honey hair bouncing everywhere. “Yes, ma’am.”
Wendy nodded, then gave me a tolerant smile. “I know this isn’t an easy time for you, Jane, but do try to behave, okay? Things will go much easier for you if do.”
I breathed for several seconds, controlling my urge to leap at her. Then I said, “Yes, ma’am,” in a voice that sounded strangled even to me.
Wendy paused for a moment, then turned and walked toward the kitchen.
Ginny grinned. “You’re really new to being a bunny, aren’t you?”
“Good guess,” I said.
Ginny giggled. “Not a guess. You’re the girl who got caught trying to hide in the kitchen this past weekend, right? The one who got popped in the butt with heat? What was that about anyway?”
I glanced at her, startled that she knew about me. “Are bunnies always this well informed?”
Ginny took me by the arm and started guiding me toward the back. “Goodness, yes. Bunnies gossip a lot. We have to, if we’re gonna know anything. But I didn’t need gossip to know about this. I was here. You flew right past me when you ran out the door.”
I blinked. “Really? I didn’t see you.”
She shrugged. “You sorta bonked when the cops saw you. I watched ‘em when they popped you in the butt. What’s that like?”
I looked at Ginny. “You’ve never had it happen to you?”
“Nope.”
“So how did the cops catch you?”
Ginny giggled. “They didn’t have to catch me. I was born a bunny. My mom was a bunny and our Master punished her one day by knocking her up. I was born banded. Don’t you know anything about being banded?”
I was outraged. “What?! You’re a bunny just because your mother was one?!”
Ginny shrugged. “That’s just how it works. It’s not so bad. I don’t mind being a bunny, you know? All my needs are taken care of and the work’s not hard.”
“Are all bunnies born into it like that?”
“Nope. A lot of them are sentenced to it, like you and Deanna.”
That was interesting. “Deanna got sentenced too? What’d she do?”
Ginny giggled. “Stole some stuff. Got totally busted.”
“Totally,” I agreed, impressed. It sounded like some of my fellow bunnies were hardcore.
We went down a hallway with numbered doors on either side. We stopped at room 5, where the door was open. Inside the room, a brunette was making the bed.
Ginny pointed to the brunette. “That’s Deanna there. She’s the lead bunny.”
The bubbly blonde tapped on the door with her nails. “Deanna, this is Jane! She’s the probation bunny. Wendy wants you to get her a uniform and stuff.”
Deanna finished making the bed, then turned to look at me. Her brown eyes made a nice contrast to the forest green band around her throat. She looked vaguely familiar.
“Hello, Jane,” she said, her cool voice adding an odd emphasis on my name. “Welcome to our humble abode.”
I nodded. “Thanks. Do I know you from somewhere?”
Deanna paused for only a moment before shaking her head. “I don’t believe so.”
Ginny said, “I gotta go finish cleaning the tables before we open for lunch.”
Deanna nodded. “Yeah, you better get back. Jane, you’re with me. Let’s introduce you to everybody and get you set up for tonight.”
She walked through the door and I followed. We went back through the main room and into the pool table area, where a guy was cleaning the windows. Deanna walked over to him.
“Peter?” she said. “This is Jane, the probation bunny. She’ll be with us for the next week or so.”
Peter turned. He had dark hair and was wearing tight denim shorts with a tank top that showed off his toned mid-section, but the surprising part of his outfit was the green band on his throat.
“You’re a bunny?!” I blurted, before he even had a chance to speak.
He gave me a bemused look. “Yeah, I’m a buck.”
“A buck?”
“A male bunny is called a buck,” supplied Deanna.
“Oh!” I said. “I didn’t know. Didn’t realize there were guy bunnies. How did that happen?”
Peter shrugged. “That’s what happens in Slate City when you owe gambling debts to the wrong people.”
Ouch.
“Wait a minute,” I said, my eyes dropping to the snug denim shorts showing off his rounded backside. “You mean you have to-“
“Yes,” he said.
Well, damn. I shook my head in amazement. “Sorry, dude. I wouldn’t have thought that’d be a thing in Slate City.”
Peter shrugged. “You’re not from around here, are you? Slatian Alphas love tight holes, and they don’t care who the holes belong to. If you lose a fight to a Slatian Alpha, you’re going to get bent over regardless of plumbing. It’s a trophy to them.”
Wow. That was blunt enough.
“C’mon, Jane,” said Deanna. “Let’s get you dressed.”
*****
I sat stewing in the room I was sharing with Ginny, waiting for my nails to dry.
The short, stretchy skirt and tube top were embarrassing enough, but I had expected that. Hell, I’d spent my first day in jail wearing the stupid uniform. But not being allowed to wear panties while in public? C’mon! And even worse, I had to paint my fingernails and toenails bimbo red. I had to look girly.
“Yep,” said Deanna. “You’re the new bunny, so you have to look cute and adorable, which means cute fingers and toes. I’ll do your hair myself. And don’t forget the red lipstick.”
Making matters worse, I didn’t even get the dignity of a green collar like the others, which indicated public customer service. I hadn’t noticed it at the time, but when Jeremy grabbed my band ring, he’d somehow changed the color of my collar to pink. There was a green horizontal stripe running through the middle, but the predominant color was bimbo pink. It was being made apparent to the entire world that I was nothing but a silly bunny. Literally.
This…stupid...fucking…city.
I stalled as long as I could, but Ginny finally came and told me it was time for me to help with lunch. Grumbling, I got to my feet and followed her out of the room.
Ginny suddenly stopped and squealed. “You painted your toesies! They look so cute!”
I stomped my way down the hall.
*****
Deanna was waiting for me when I got to the kitchen.
“Sit on this stool,” she instructed. “I’m going to fix your hair.”
Grumbling, I dropped onto the stool. Deanna did something with my hair. After a minute, she stepped back.
She nodded in satisfaction. “All done. Now see those two guys sitting at the table near the end of the bar? Go ask them what they want to drink.”
Great. Now I had to be a stupid waitress. Fine. Whatever.
Before going out to the main room, I paused by a mirror to see what Deanna had done to my hair. She had pinned back my black hair in a way that made me look like some kind of adorable urchin. Grrrrrrrr.
I walked to the table. Two athletic guys looked up as I got there.
“Umm, welcome to Sir Gregory’s Pub. What do you want to drink?”
They looked at me oddly. The dark-haired guy said, “Are you a bunny?”
I gave him a look. “Yeah.”
The two guys looked at each other and I suddenly realized why he was asking.
I sighed. “What would you like to drink, sirs?”
The guy with the blond hair chuckled. “You’re new, aren’t you?”
Boy, was he perceptive. Couldn’t get a thing by him. “Yes, sir, I am. Drink?”
“Relax, bunny,” he said. “You’re doing fine. A couple beers, please. Whatever’s on tap.”
I nodded and walked back to the kitchen. I hated this already. Deanna was waiting when I got behind the bar.
I pointed a thumb over my shoulder toward the common area. “They want a couple draft beers and I didn’t even burn the place down. I’m doing good so far, right?”
Deanna shook her head. “Hardly. You didn’t flash them.”
“Sure, I did,” I said. “I…wait…did you say flash them? As in show them my tits?”
Deanna rolled her eyes. “Of course that’s what I mean, Jane. Don’t you know anything? When someone sits down, the first thing you do is show them your boobs. Why else do you think they drink at a place like this? You’re a bunny now and bunny boobs are public property.”
Son of a bitch.
Deanna handed me a tray. “The beer taps are over there. Fill two mugs with Slatian Gold draft, put them on tray and take them to the table. Put the mugs in front of them and then show them your boobs. And smile while you’re doing it, okay? Once they’ve had a good look, pick up the tray and walk away. If you’re lucky, they won’t report you to Wendy.”
Fuck. “And what if I’m unlucky?”
“Then maybe you waddle around with Sir Gregory’s baby swelling your belly for the next nine months. It his favorite punishment.”
Holy shit. They really took bunny discipline seriously around here. Maybe showing these guys my tits wasn’t such a big deal.
I filled the two mugs and dropped them on the tray, then took the tray out to their table. I set the tray down, then set a frosty mug in front of each of them. Then I took a breath, smiled and lifted my top straight up, exposing my ridiculously heavy boobs to them.
There was complete silence for a moment. Then dark hair said, “I love the service at this place.”
Blond hair nodded his agreement. “Nipple rings. Perfect accessories for perfect nipples.”
My face was flaming by this point, but they didn’t sound like they were going to report me to Wendy. Satisfied that I’d dodged a bullet, I picked up the empty tray and headed back to the kitchen.
Deanna was waiting for me. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
I wanted to punch her, but punching another bunny seemed to be a good way to end up with a big belly, so I just clenched my teeth and smiled the best I could.
It was an infuriating lunch hour. It was a weekday and not very busy, so Deanna had me take every customer’s drink order when they walked in. More people saw my bare boobs in that hour than had seen them in my entire previous life. I had a non-stop blush.
It felt like a non-stop parade of customers. How the hell did waitresses do it? I was gaining a newfound respect for the server brigade.
Deanna kept an ongoing critique every time I went to the back. “Not bad. You’re getting better, but when you drop things, you’re picking them up all wrong.”
“Huh? What?”
“When you drop something, you keep bending your knees to pick it up. That’s wrong. You’re a bunny. You bend at the waist.”
My face colored. “I’m not wearing any underwear, remember? If I bend over at the waist to pick up anything, everyone will see my fucking religion.”
“I beg your pardon?”
Oops. “I mean, I’ll reveal my modesty to, well, anyone with working eyes.”
Deanna gave me a flat look. “You’re a bunny. You don’t have modesty. Now do it the way I told you to.”
That made me extra-careful and I didn’t drop anything more. But as I was bringing out two fresh beers to the dark-haired guy and blond guy- my first two customers, whose names were Bruce and Heath- Deanna followed close behind me. As I set the tray on the table, I heard a utensil hit the hardwood floor.
Deanna clucked her tongue. “Oh, dear. Jane, you accidentally knocked a spoon to the floor. Be a good girl and pick it up.”
I was ready to bend at the knees to pick it up, but Deanna watched me with an expectant stare. Teeth clenched, I bent over and snatched the spoon, then quickly straightened. But apparently I didn’t straighten quick enough.
“I’m thinking lunch here again tomorrow,” said Bruce.
“Indubitably,” said Heath. “Indubitably.”
Deanna gave me an approving smile, then turned and walked to the kitchen.
Cheeks burning, I turned back to the tray. I picked up their beers and put them in front of them without a word. Then I snatched the tray off the table.
Bruce picked up his mug. “It’s probably not important, but the spoon thing wasn’t your fault.”
That made me pause. “What do you mean?”
Bruce flicked a hand toward the kitchen. “The other bunny actually knocked it off the table. She was probably just embarrassed and tried to blame the new girl, you know?”
Oh, that fucking wench.
A smile hid my clenched teeth. “You’re right. Probably just embarrassed. Thank you for telling me, though.”
Bruce reached out and patting my bottom condescendingly. “Don’t worry, bunny. You’re doing good.”
I gasped. I wanted to choke Bruce for patting me on the butt like I was some kind of bimbo, but the pressure of his hand against my tattoo made me gulp and lose track of where I was for a moment. Cheeks flushed, I turned and headed back to the kitchen.
*****
The lunch and early evening wasn’t too busy. Deanna, Ginny and I began falling into a rotating pattern for serving the customers. Peter sometimes helped serve drinks as well, although he was also doing more of the physical tasks involved, such as moving crates from the store room to the bar, or getting ice. He was the favored server for a certain number of drinkers.
More customers came in as the night wore on. It didn’t get packed, but it was busy. Being a new bunny, I got more than my share of gropes and pats. It was infuriating. And having to flash them every time I walked to a new table was embarrassing as fuck. I was ready to choke someone. Anyone.
And of course everyone became clumsy as all get out when I was around. Utensils got dropped with great regularity. It was as if every patron in the bar suddenly became fumble-fingered the moment I walked to the table. It wasn’t too difficult to figure out they just wanted me to bend over to pick stuff up off the floor. Grrrrrrr.
After a particularly grueling session of gropes and pats from a large table of customers, I stomped back to the kitchen for a short break. I needed to cool off or I was going to end up in big trouble. Deanna and Ginny were in the kitchen for a brief break as well. So of course that’s when Wendy decided to come talk to me.
She looked at me evenly. “I must say you’re doing surprisingly well so far. Your effort to fit in with the festive environment here comes as a pleasant surprise.”
That was unexpected. “Thank you, Wen- er, ma’am.”
She nodded. “I’m extremely impressed you’re trying so hard to please, but you really don’t need to flash your breasts to every customer as a greeting. Unless they ask you to, of course. And I realize you’re likely not familiar with how to wear a skirt, but I recommend you bend at the knees when you pick up items from the floor. Or at the very least, I’d recommend you wear panties.”
I stared at Wendy, thunderstruck. “But I thought…I was told…I mean…you mean…I don’t have to do those things?! Ma’am?”
Wendy looked at me quizzically. “No, you don’t. Not specifically, at any rate. You will be doing more than that before long, but you don’t have to do them as a daily practice. You thought they were required?”
“Yes! Deanna said I had to!”
The corners of Wendy’s mouth twitched. She glanced at Deanna. “Is this true, Deanna?”
The wench actually managed to look contrite. “Yes, ma’am. I was just having a little fun with the new girl. I was hoping it would help her relax. And I thought she’d look cute with red fingers and toes.”
Wendy actually laughed. She thought it was funny!
“All right, Deanna,” she said. “You’ve had your fun. But Jane’s been through enough for one night. No more, please.”
I was changing colors. “It’s not okay! She told me…she said…she-“
“Shush, Jane,” said Wendy. She looked me up and down. “It was just a harmless prank to welcome you to the pub, even if you’re only here for a week. And Deanna’s right- you do look cute with red fingers and toes. Leave your nails as they are. You may put on some underwear, though, and you can stop flashing the pub your bare breasts every five minutes. Now go to your room to put on some panties and cool off for five minutes. Then report back here.”
I breathed through the anger for several seconds, glaring daggers at Deanna. Then I forced myself to exhale. “Yes, ma’am. Can I wear shoes?”
“Don’t be silly. With your attitude, you’re lucky you even get to wear clothes.”
Grrrrrrr.
“All right.”
“Excuse me?”
Dammit. “I mean, yes, ma’am.”
“Good girl,” said Wendy.
*****
It took a supreme effort of will not to choke Deanna. Or at least squeeze her band until it wrung her scrawny neck. I needed the entire five minutes to cool off and it wasn’t nearly enough. It was close to fifteen minutes later when I got back to my feet and forced myself to walk back to the main room. I moved as slowly as possible.
Ginny seemed to be a legitimately sweet girl who was liked by everybody, so when she told me she hadn’t known what Deanna was doing, I believed her.
“I didn’t know! Honest to blueberries, I didn’t!” She giggled then. “Buuuuut, it was kinda funny, you know? I mean, every time somebody walked in, boobies!”
I grumbled that I didn’t think it was funny at all, but it was hard to remain that furious in the face of her cheery disposition. I finally just rolled my eyes and walked away. There didn’t seem to be any talking to her when she was feeling silly.
As I got closer to the common room, I noticed there seemed to be more noise than there had been earlier. It sounded busier, yes, but rowdier as well. In fact, as I got closer, it became obvious the crowd was singing.
A lusty young smith at his vise stood a-filing,
His hammer laid by but his forge still aglow,
When to him a buxom young damsel came smiling
And asked him if to work at her forge he would go.
With a jingle bang, jingle bang, jingle bang, jingle,
With a jingle bang, jingle bang, jingle, hi ho!
Oh, for fuck’s sake. They were singing pub songs. As if I didn’t already have enough problems.
I walked into the common room and sure enough, they were all going at it like idiots. And they were being led by what was probably the biggest idiot in the pub. A huge bearded dude was standing in front of everybody, waving a mug of ale like a baton to lead the singing crowd. His hair was iron gray, but he looked like he could throw any six guys around the bar. A Viking wanna-be, probably.
Just what I needed. Some ancient dude with a mid-life crisis. He was probably gonna paw my ass all night. Grrrrrrr.
And of course that’s when one of our patrons ran into me with a full mug of ale. My eyes widened and I squealed as the cold beverage soaked my tube top. I stumbled back a step, hands between my wobbling boobs, my nipples hardening in response to the chilled liquid.
The man shook his head in exasperation. “Geez, bunny. You really need to be more careful.”
I opened my mouth to verbally tear him a new one, but remembered where I was and decided that punching this guy in the throat on my first night here was probably a bad idea. I spun around and stomped on bare feet back to the kitchen area.
Unfortunately, I was well aware of where they kept the spare bunny uniforms.
I walked to the bunny changing room and opened the door. The room I had hidden out in the night I tried to get away from the cops. The last night I had without a collar on my neck.
I took off the ale-soaked tube top and dropped it on the floor. I looked over the spare tops dangling from hangars across a bar. They all looked the same.
Footsteps thudded just outside the door, heavy footsteps. Suddenly the door swung open.
I jumped, arms instinctively crossing over my chest. “HEY! Do you fucking mind?!”
A deep barrel laugh sounded and I realized it was the huge bearded man from the common room. He looked even bigger close up. He had to be six-to-eight inches over six feet, big-bellied but impossibly thick across his chest and shoulders.
His deep voice boomed. “Of course I don’t mind, lass! Topless bunnies are a delight to behold!”
Oh, gawd. He was flirting. The guy had to be pushing sixty and he was flirting. He was in for a world of disappointment.
I gave him my steeliest glare. “That’s nice. Now get the fuck out of here and let me finish changing before I kick you so hard, you’re singing your next pub song as a soprano.”
I realized belatedly that I had probably just crossed several bunny lines and gotten myself in deep hot water with Wendy, but there had to be some rule somewhere about customers just barging into the back. Hopefully that would be enough to keep me out of trouble.
Not that viking-dude seemed to care. He just laughed.
“Oh, come now, lass. Surely I’m not as bad as all that?”
I opened my mouth to let him know that yes, he was indeed as bad as all that, but sudden warmth shot through my band. My nipples hardened again, but not because they were bare or cold. My hips twitched and I was lubricating.
Lubricating like crazy, actually. I had been back in panties again for barely fifteen minutes and I was already so fucking wet, they were probably ruined. And I didn’t care.
The fucking barbarian took a step closer. Gawd, his scent was making me even wetter. So masculine. Strong. Powerful. Potent. Pure fucking man.
“You’re a little fireball, aren’t you?” he rumbled, placing his huge hand on my shoulder, almost knocking me to my knees. “Big, bouncing titties, just like they should be.”
My pussy was molten lava. He reached down and tweaked my rigid nipple and I gasped. Pure electricity shot through my belly, jolting my already sopping sex.
My fingers fumbled at his pants. I managed to get his belt undone, get his pants unbuttoned, causing his pants to drop to his ankles. He reached out and picked me up effortlessly. We were in the kitchen now, but that didn’t matter. Still in the air, I found myself suddenly slammed against the wall, breathless, held aloft by one heavy hand. His other hand tore away my soaked panties. My stretch-skirt alone remained, encircling my waist.
I felt my bare back sliding down the wall slightly, but only slightly. There was a pressure against my pussy lips now, a huge pressure, and the teeny tiny part of my brain that was still working identified it as the huge, bulbous head of this giant’s cock pressing against me, trying to force entry.
And then my traitor pussy’s lubrication allowed the monstrous thing to penetrate, filling my volcanic pussy with hot, thick, powerful cock.
I squirmed, breathless, as that rigid shaft drove inside me, filling me, forcing my thighs apart. He grunted as he felt my pussy, impossibly tight around his thick shaft, squeezing his cock. He shifted slightly, hooking his arms under my legs and putting my bare feet on his shoulders.
He then proceeded to pound me fucking silly.
His huge hips drove that cock into me again and again, not letting me breathe. I was beyond full, my pussy impossibly stretched, but I was beyond feeling pain. His massive balls slapped against my ass as he pushed that fat cockhead against my cervix repeatedly. I could feel my heat rising, my traitor body responding to this ridiculously masculine savage fucking me silly. Using me as a cocksleeve to satisfy his fucking primal urges. My traitor body didn’t care. I shuddered, moaned, shuddered again.
I tried to resist. That tiny corner of my brain that was still my own told me to resist, to fight. But then my pussy was contracting around that shaft and I was crying out, coming like a fucking slut, shuddering, coming on that cock again and again.
He didn’t care that I was coming. He was simply satisfying himself, fucking a hot, wet hole. But my non-stop orgasms were causing my pussy to squeeze his cock even more, and I suddenly knew what was coming. With a roar, he jammed his cock fully inside me one last time and, with my pussy gripping the base of his mighty shaft, proceeded to fill me with an impossibly heavy load of hot, molten semen.
His throbbing cock and crazy hot insemination wrenched another ragged orgasm from my wrecked body. I couldn’t stop it. My eyes were glazed, my throat raw from moaning. I was no longer thinking, just reacting. I was just a joytoy, a sloppy wet hole for this mighty cock.
The brute held my motionless body in place as he drained the last of his semen inside me. Finally satisfied, he grunted and pulled me off his cock with a wet slurp. He dropped me onto a nearby stainless steel table.
A faraway voice sounded, a voice I vaguely recognized as Wendys. “Umm, sir? We do have to prepare food on that table.”
The giant laughed.
My heartbeat was starting to slow to normal and I was able to breathe again. Barely. I cracked open an eye.
And realized that a number of people were standing in the kitchen. Looking at me laying on the table. Naked. And wet. Still very, very wet.
Eyes wide, I squealed and rolled off the table, realizing too late that my legs weren’t working at all. Blushing furiously from head-to-toe, my knees wobbling like a new-born calf’s, I half-walked, half-crawled into the bunny changing room and slammed the door. I was never coming out of there again.
There was laughter in the kitchen. Then I heard Wendy’s voice on the other side of the door say, “Well, Jane, I see you’ve already met Sir Gregory.”
*****
It took me nearly an hour to get my brains back together, and even then I was still a wet, wrecked mess.
Ginny giggled enviously. “Sir Gregory has that effect. He’s, umm, kind of a force of nature, you know? He’ll totally obliterate you down there.”
I shrugged nonchalantly, trying desperately to cling to a shred of dignity. I knew damn well I’d be lucky to get out of bed in the morning, but I wasn’t about to admit that. Of course, my legs were so rubbery from the frickin’ two hundred orgasms I’d had that I could barely walk now, but I wasn’t about to admit that either.
I directed a dark look toward the other side of the common room, where Sir Gregory was regaling a number of patrons with a story of one of his adventures. “Is he allowed to just walk in and pound the bunnies senseless like that anytime he wants?”
Ginny looked at me like I’d grown an extra head next to the one I already had. “He’s a Master! Of course he’s allowed!”
I grumbled, mumbling something about Masters being stupid.
Ginny poked me in the belly and said, “It was totally hot to watch. He hammered, like, a million cummies out of you, cutie. Maybe you’ll be in a better mood now.”
Face flaming, I snatched my drink tray and fled.
Apparently Wendy, the bartender Cliff, Deanna, Ginny and several other staff members had stood there the whole time watching me getting fucked senseless. I was never going to live this down.
Deanna passed close by then. “Hey, Jane. Sir Gregory wants a refill. Wendy wants you to bring it to him.”
I glared at Deanna, not trusting her one bit. Deanna pointed toward Wendy, who was behind the bar. Wendy nodded.
Grrrrrr.
Deanna leaned forward. “Maybe you’ll get lucky and Sir Gregory will bend you over and do you right there in front of everybody.” Her nipples hardened as she spoke.
I spoke through clenched teethy. “I don’t think so.”
“Could happen,” said Deanna, smirking.
I narrowed my eyes. “What’s your problem with me? I haven’t even been here a day.”
Deanna looked at me. “You really don’t remember me, do you?”
I stared at her incredulously. “I don’t even know you! How could I? I’ve been in this stupid city for 3 days and two-and-a-half of those days have been spent in jail. How the hell could we have met even a single time?”
She looked at me through narrowed eyes. “A single time? Try twice. And I wasn’t impressed either time.”
I was at a loss. “What are you talking about?”
She rolled her eyes. “Before you got arrested. Out back. Now get Sir Gregory his drink before you get us both into trouble.”
With that, Deanna turned and walked into the kitchen.
I walked behind the bar and filled a frosty mug for Sir Gregory, mind whirling, trying to remember everything from that day. And I finally got it. Deanna was the bunny I snapped at when she came into the alley.
No wonder she looked familiar. All right, maybe I had been a little wenchy, but fuck. I didn’t know, you know? At least I knew now why she was mad at me.
Fine. I’d deal with that at some point. But at the moment, I had bigger problems. Namely, the fact that I had to take this drink out to Sir Gregory, the huge dude who’d just screwed me like a slut less than an hour ago. And more importantly, I had to get away afterward with my fucking dignity intact.
The trick was in the approach, I decided. He was sitting at the bar, but he had his back to it, as he was turned and facing the crowd behind him. He was gesturing expansively as he told his story, playing to his audience. I walked behind the bar and made my way toward where he was sitting.
Since he was facing the other direction, he wouldn’t even know I was there. All I had to do was get near him and set his mug down right behind him. I’d be in and out without him even seeing me. The perfect crime.
I padded to his position on (literally) silent bunny feet. He had no clue I was there. Just as I set down his mug, though, he turned suddenly and bellowed, “Bunny!”
I jumped, gasping, nearly wetting myself. There was a thunk and the pub went silent.
I blinked, wondering why everybody had stopped talking. Then I saw they were staring at the bar, so I looked down.
Sir Gregory’s mug was laying on its side. I had spilled his beer when I jumped.
Eyes wide, I looked up at the giant man, heart thumping in my throat.
“My BEER!” he roared, reaching over the bar and lifting me in the air with both hands.
I was about to die. I was flying through the air to meet my fate. Then I landed on his lap, huffing as the breath was forced from my lungs.
“The new bunny spilled my beer!” bellowed Sir Gregory. “How do we punish beer-spilling bunnies at Sir Gregory’s Pub?”
“You punished her in the kitchen ‘alf an hour ago, Sir G! Her hands are still shaking! No wonder she spilled your beer!”
The crowd laughed, including Sir Gregory.
“I bet you’re right, son!” said the giant man. “Still, we can’t let this fetching little thing get off scot-free now, can we?”
The crowd began offering spirited suggestions and it fortunately seemed like Sir Gregory was just having fun. He didn’t actually appear angry. But in the meantime, I was still sprawled across his broad lap, held in place by his heavy paw.
He listened to the shouted suggestions good-naturedly for several seconds, then held up a finger as if a great idea had just occurred to him.
“I’ve got it! I’ve got the appropriate punishment. A good old-fashioned spanking!”
Oh, gawd, no. The crowd roared its approval. I was already trying to wriggle off his lap, but his hand probably weighed more than I did and I had no chance of getting out from under it. I felt his other hand pulling my stretch skirt over my hips, baring my bottom to the entire crowd.
Sir Gregory’s voice boomed to all corners of the tavern. “Well, how about that! It seems our bunny here has an adorable tattoo on her bunny ass! And is that an appropriate tattoo or what?”
I closed my eyes, cheeks burning with embarrassment. The whole pub was looking at my bare ass. Looking at the huge BIMBO tattoo on my bare ass cheek. I was going to choke Lady Max next time I saw her.
“What say you, lads?” boomed Sir Gregory, still playing to the crowd. “Time to discipline our little bunny, right?”
There were cheers. I felt Sir Gregory’s hand lift from my hips where he had pulled up my skirt. Then his heavy hand came down against my tattooed butt cheek with a THWACK!
My eyes popped open and I gasped. Sir Gregory’s swat wasn’t meant to hurt- he was just having fun- but a swat from the huge man was still going to have an effect, half-hearted or not. But that wasn’t what made me breathless. What had made me gasp was the sudden burst of heat that shot out from where Sir Gregory’s hand made contact with my tattooed butt cheek.
Sir Gregory swatted me again and I squealed, my belly muscles jumping. Sensing he was having an effect on me, the huge man continued swatting my ass. I was squeaking, trying to wriggle off his lap, but I couldn’t budge. Sir Gregory continued swatting my reddening bottom, even as I squirmed and wriggled.
Every spank was sending electric jolts through my belly, my sex, everything. I was turning into a wet, wriggling mess right there on Sir Gregory’s lap. And he knew it.
“Well, now, look at that, lads! I think the bunny likes it!”
Oh, gawd. This wasn’t going to happen. It was NOT going to happen. There was NO FUCKING WAY I WAS GOING TO ORGASM WHILE BEING SPANKED IN PUBLIC!
And then, cheeks crimson, I moaned and came like a slut in front of the whole pub as Sir Gregory spanked my bare butt with that heavy hand.
I couldn’t stop. I squirmed, wriggled and writhed, but the spanking had gone too deep. The weight of that hand, being handled by a true Master, his authority emanating from his every move, Sir Gregory spanked me like a bad girl and made me come.
Suddenly I was flying through the air again, although I was placed on my feet this time. I was breathless, my hair was messy and all over the place, and I was blushing from my face all the way to my toes.
Sir Gregory grunted good-naturedly. “Now be a good bunny and fetch me a fresh beer. Make sure it’s in a frosted mug.”
I scurried away, hands tugging my stretch skirt down into place. I was going to get Sir Gregory a beer in a frosted mug and I was going to get it quickly. And I wasn’t going to spill it.
*****
It was well after midnight and I was under the covers of my bed in the room I was sharing with Ginny. She was brushing her hair.
Ginny was yawning and that was good. I was waiting for her to fall asleep.
I ached from head-to-toe. I had never been so exhausted in my life. But they had miscalculated if they thought that was going to stop me.
Ginny finally settled into bed, her blonde hair framing her pretty face. Her eyes were already closing.
Good.
I was surprised at the lack of security. There was nothing in place to keep me here. The door didn’t even have a lock. Maybe the other bunnies were fine with that, but if they thought I was going to remain here even one more night, they were out of their mind. As soon as I was sure Ginny was completely asleep, I was heading out that door. Sure, I’d still have this collar locked on my neck, but I’d worry about that later.
I waited until Ginny’s breathing was completely even and then got to my feet. I was still wearing my bunny uniform. It was time.
I was just taking my first step when the door suddenly swung open. Wendy stood framed in the doorway.
She looked at my skirt, then back at me. “Hello, Jane. Going somewhere?”
“No,” I said, though I needn’t have bothered. We both knew I was lying.
She stared at me for a moment, then twirled her finger and said, “Turn around.”
I sighed and turned around.
“Lift your skirt. I want to see your tattoo.”
Grrrrr. I reached down and pulled my stretch skirt over my hips, baring my bottom.
“Satisfied?” I said, my teeth clenched.
“Quite,” she said.
Phhhhht!
I gasped, feeling the sudden sharp pinch in my right butt cheek. I blinked and tried to turn around, but it was too late. My limbs were already numbing, my mouth dropping open. I fell forward, face-first onto the bed, my feet still on the floor.
I heard unhurried steps behind me. A moment later, Wendy sat on the bed next to my motionless figure.
“That’s a time-release quill dart in your bottom, Jane,” said Wendy, showing me a quill projector that appeared to be more complex than the ones used by the Slate City police. “It’s going to keep you quilled for the next 8 hours. You’re still a guest of the Slate City PD, so we need to make sure you don’t go wandering in the night. We don’t normally cuff probationary bunnies while they’re sleeping, but in your case, we’re going to make an exception. I know you had a hard day and you’re having trouble adjusting, but that doesn’t mean it’s okay for you to try to elope.”
She stood then and proceeded to press my unresisting arms together. She took a pair of leather wrist-cuffs and cuffed my wrists together behind my back. Then, almost as an after-thought, she pushed a red ball gag into my mouth and secured it behind my head. Quilled to the eyeballs, unable to move, I could only watch her through half-lidded eyes. Drooling around the ball-gag.
Wendy finally stepped back, satisfied I was secured for the night. “This will do for tonight. However, bunny, the next time you even think about eloping, I’ll quill you for 24 hours and leave you in the common room wearing nothing but a diaper. Do not test me, brat.”
She turned then and exited the room, leaving me bent over the bed, cuffed and gagged, cheek to the bed comforter, quill dart sticking out of my bare butt cheek.
Much like Jeremy and Sir Gregory, Wendy apparently wasn’t someone to cross either.
Part 4- Sir Gregory’s Pub- Day 1
I woke the next morning feeling every aching muscle in my body. I was not a happy camper.
“Time to get up, bunny,” said Higgs. The bearded, thick-bodied guard set my breakfast on the floor next to the cell door. “You start your assignment at Sir Gregory’s Pub today. We leave in an hour, whether you’re done with breakfast or not.”
I sighed and rolled off the cot. My shoulder, wrist and ass were throbbing, with heat as well as pain. My aching nipples were rigid and I really wasn’t happy to still be walking around naked in a room with dressed men. And one look at my breakfast told me all the horror stories about jail food were true.
Officer Higgs remained in the cell doorway.
“Bunny,” he said, gruffly but not unkindly, “when yer spoken to, acknowledge it.”
Sigh. “Sorry. Thanks for the 411.”
He continued staring at me.
I sighed again and added, “Sir.”
He nodded, then reached forward and patted my tattooed bottom. “Good girl.”
I gasped, feeling the pressure of his hand through the bandage on my ass. The pain from his heavy pat I had expected, but the sudden rush of endorphins caught me flat-footed.
Higgs saw my cheeks color and he laughed. “Jus’ be a good bunny and you’ll be fine,” he said. Then he left the cell.
*****
I had no idea what to expect on my first full day as a bunny, but I was almost optimistic as Higgs and Blackmoor drove me to Sir Gregory’s Pub. Surprisingly I was left uncuffed, although a leash was locked to my collar, with the other end wrapped around Blackmoor’s wrist. But best of all, I was actually allowed to wear clothes for the first time since I got tagged. It wasn’t much- just loose athletic pants and a belly-baring half-tanktop- but it was a lot better than being driven around naked, even if I was still barefoot. I never thought I’d be grateful for being allowed to wear panties.
The two guards were drinking strong coffee and feeling magnanimous, so they gave me a rundown on Sir Gregory as we made our way there.
“He was quite the adventurer, back in the day,” said Blackmoor. “Trekked through the Crystal Mountains, the African jungles, even did some arctic exploration.”
Higgs was busy driving, but he nodded his agreement. “Yep. Much man, that one.”
“And now he owns a bar? Um, sir?” I said.
Higgs changed lanes, then answered. “He’s retired now, but the man still enjoys a festive lifestyle. Wine, women and song.” His voice had a tinge of envy.
“You drink there? Um, sirs?” I said.
“Sure,” they said in unison.
Blackmoor said, “The pub setting’s a bit of a throwback, sure, but it’s a great place to drink. Fun environment, you know?”
“Nothing like a cold pint and a game of darts after a day’s work,” echoed Higgs.
Blackmoor nodded. “Good bar snacks, too. Nothing that’ll kill you.”
“And some damn fine bunnies,” said Higgs. “Well behaved. You’ll fit right in.”
Both guards burst out laughing. Comedians.
*****
We parked in the alley behind the pub and I was brought in through the back door. The same back door I had run through when I was trying to get away from the police after being set up by Max. It looked different now when I wasn’t looking at it through the lens of adrenaline and uncertainty. Hard to believe that had been just over two days ago.
The apparently infamous Sir Gregory wasn’t available when we arrived. We were instead met by the hostess, an attractive woman in her forties named Wendy. The guards knew her.
“Hi, Wendy,” said Higgs. “Just delivering the bunny intern. Sir Gregory around?”
Bunny intern. Cute.
Wendy smiled a greeting. “Good morning, officers. Sir Gregory’s not here at the moment. He went to pick up some cases of Darkview Black.”
“Good stuff,” said Higgs approvingly. “Will absolutely grab you by the boo-boo.”
Wendy shuddered. “A vile beverage. No boo-boos are safe.”
The guards laughed. Higgs said, “Anybody around with authority to accept the bunny?”
Wendy glanced over her shoulder. “Give me a moment. Mr. Pierce should be in the back.”
Higgs looked mildly surprised. “At this time of the day? Kinda early for Jeremy to be here, isn’t it?”
Wendy nodded. “Inventory. There’ve been a few irregularities. He and Sir Gregory are doing a count. That’s why Sir Gregory himself is picking up the Darkview Black.”
Higgs nodded. “Makes sense.”
Wendy smiled. “Wait here, please.”
Higgs looked at me. “Jeremy is Sir Gregory’s nephew. Gregory’s the owner, but it’s really Jeremy that runs the place. He has almost as much authority as Gregory, even if he doesn’t have the ‘Sir’ in front of his name yet. He’s a good guy, pretty easy-going, but he runs a tight ship. Same with Wendy. She’s in charge of the girls. She smiles pretty, but don’t piss her off.”
Higgs was speaking casually, but it seemed like good information, so I was paying attention.
Wendy came back a minute later with a guy I presumed to be Jeremy. He was a couple inches over 6 feet and moved like a predator. He looked youngish, but he had the thick shoulders and heavy muscle of a man in his thirties. I decided to believe the muscles, not the face.
He was also the guy who had pointed me out to the cops the night I got caught.
Jeremy stepped forward and extended a casual hand. “Mr. Higgs and Mr. Blackmoor. What can I do for Slate City’s finest?”
Higgs returned the firm handshake. “Mornin’, Jeremy. Just dropping off the shiny new bunny. Meet Jane Doe. You may remember her from the other night.”
Jeremy looked at me. “Vaguely. Only saw her for a few seconds. So this is our girl, is she?”
Their girl? Their girl?! Fuck that. I met his glance straight on and stuck my tongue out at him.
Higgs covered his eyes with his hands. “Oh, Jesus, bunny…”
Wendy looked furious, but Jeremy just laughed. Jerk.
“She’ll be fine, Mr. Higgs,” said Jeremy. “Thank you for the delivery. We’ll take it from here.”
Higgs shook his head. “Good luck, man. This one’s a handful. We’re pretty sure she’s not from around here.”
Jeremy shrugged. “Breaking bad habits is no big chore. And I’d say you’re probably right about her not being from around here. Too skinny.”
I’d had enough. “Why does it matter where I come from?”
I thought Wendy was going to faint. Higgs’ grip on my leash tightened imperceptibly. Apparently even his patience was being tested. “It doesn’t, bunny,” he said. “Now shush.”
“Fine,” I grumbled. Then feeling Higgs’ eyes on me, I added, “Sir.”
Higgs glared a moment longer, then relented. He turned back to Jeremy and held out the handle of the leash.
“Here you go,” said the guard. “All yours. We’ll be back for her next week.”
And just like that, I became a pub bunny.
*****
I watched Higgs and Blackmoor leave. It was weird, but I found myself missing them in a way. They were part of the Slate City justice system, a system I already hated with every fiber of my being, but at least I knew where I stood with them. Hell, Higgs wasn’t even a bad guy, at least when I wasn’t pissing him off. Now I was just a bunny in a public setting in a strange city, part of an institution I knew nothing about.
Of course, with them gone, that meant I was no longer in a jail setting. Freedom was on the other side of the closest unlocked door.
Almost as if he sensed what I was thinking, Jeremy dropped the leash and took a step forward. He reached out and slid a finger through the front ring of my collar and curled his fingers into a loose fist, preventing me from moving my head- or my body, for that matter- in any direction. Jerk.
He smelled good, though. Masculine. Powerful as fuck. Almost like Captain Zachary or Sir Cosmo. I could feel myself getting wet from his scent. Fuck.
Jeremy held up what appeared to be a white pebble. “This is a proximity stone. It’s to keep you from straying.”
He pressed the stone against my band and I felt a surge go through the collar, warming my throat. We remained like that for several seconds. Then he released the ring and stepped back. I found myself strangely breathless. What the hell?
“All done,” he said. “Wendy is going to show you around and explain how things work here. You will do exactly what she tells you to do and you will do it the way she tells you to. Understood?”
He was a guy used to being obeyed. Grrrrrr. I grunted. “Yeah.”
He took a step forward then, back into my space. He didn’t say anything. Just stood there. But he seemed to become taller, more powerful, his muscles showing more definition. His scent, his fucking scent, was an aphrodisiac. My pussy lubricated hard, my nipples became rigid. My legs became shaky, weak. I felt myself dropping to my knees. Where I belonged. A man, a fucking true man stood before me, his presence overwhelming mine. His potent, weighty cock hovered inches away. A formidable tool for a powerful man, to be used as he saw fit. He moved marginally, a slight flexing of his violent muscles quivering with repressed strength, nothing but his will stopping him from taking me and doing whatever he wanted to me, nothing to stop him from filling me with seed, turning me into a helpless joytoy, breeding me like an animal, satisfying his primal urges on me-
I gasped as he stepped back. He stared at me expectantly.
Oh, gawd. My cheeks colored. Still kneeling, I looked at the ground. “Understood, sir,” I said, my voice strained.
“Try again,” he said, his voice resonating inside my head.
I panicked for a moment, then got it. “Understood…Master.”
Finally satisfied, he turned and left the room. Several heartbeats later, I exhaled, able to breathe again.
Wendy waited for me to struggle back to my feet before commenting.
“Because Sir Gregory is such a commanding presence, people sometimes forget that Jeremy is a Slatian Alpha as well. Not as experienced as Sir Gregory, obviously, but a power in his own right. You would do well not to forget that, bunny.”
No fucking kidding. My first time wearing underwear in three days and they were already drenched.
Wendy walked to the door. She moved deceptively quick, much like a model combined with a corporate exec. “All right, Jane, I’ve only got a few minutes, so let’s get you settled in, shall we?”
I followed her through the door. “Lead on, Wendy. And by the way, my name is actually Eliza.”
Wendy came to a stop and turned back to me. “You’re new to being a bunny, and possibly new to Slate City, and you’re here for the purpose of initiation to your position, so I’m going to overlook many of your mistakes in the upcoming days. I am, however, going to clear up misconceptions as they appear, and that starts now. You were assigned here by the Slate City police department under the name of Jane, which means that is your name until I am told otherwise. The only ones who can tell me otherwise would be Jeremy, who would be unlikely to do so, or Sir Gregory. Is that understood, Jane?”
I gave Wendy a sullen nod.
“Good,” she said. “Now let’s clear up a few more misconceptions. As long as you are here at Sir Gregory’s Pub, most of your instructions and duties will be assigned to you through me. My title is Hostess, but I run the service floor and I answer only to Jeremy and Sir Gregory. So when I speak to you, bunny, you will answer me. And when you answer me, bunny, you will refer to me as ‘ma’am’, not Wendy. Because if you refer to me as Wendy or anything else again, bunny, you will be serving drinks to our customers naked. Have I made myself perfectly clear, bunny?”
Sigh. It hadn’t taken me long to fuck up things. Time for damage control.
“Yes,” I mumbled.
Wendy continued staring at me.
“Um, yes, ma’am,” I added hastily. Dammit.
She let her gaze linger a moment longer before she turned and resumed walking.
I followed after her, my bare feet padding along the wood floor. It felt weird walking around a public bar without shoes.
We entered the main room. It was large but cozy, with dark wood and brick everywhere. Solid, heavy furniture accompanied by comfortable padded benches, with sturdy stools lining the crafted wood bar. Various-sized bottles of liquor lined brightly-lit shelves behind the bar and framed pictures filled the walls. Very much an English pub ambiance to it, but with multiple modern touches everywhere. Large and small video screens were everywhere, showing sports of every type, from golf and bowling to football and rugby. Side areas that were only slightly smaller than the main area offered pool tables and darts.
It was early in the day, but already a few customers were sitting at tables eating.
Wendy waved a hand at the dining area. “We don’t open to the public until lunchtime, but we have a number of rooms available for overnight rental. And for other purposes as well. Breakfast is available for anyone staying in the rooms.”
“It’s like a hotel then?” I said. “Um, ma’am?” I added quickly.
She glanced at me momentarily, but satisfied that I had caught the slip in a timely manner, she moved on. “Not precisely a hotel. The rooms are available for short-term or long-term stays, to be sure, but we’re a pub, not a hotel. They’re meant more as a convenience for someone who’s had too much to drink and are unable to get themselves home. Or perhaps they want to take advantage of the pub amenities.”
“Take advantage of the amenities? What amenities? Er, what amenities, ma’am?”
Wendy looked at me significantly.
I clenched my teeth, suddenly understanding. “You mean bunnies, don’t you?”
Wendy beamed beatifically. Stupid city.
We walked over to where a barefoot honey-blonde in a short stretch skirt and a tube top was polishing a tabletop. She was banded, with a green collar encircling her throat. It wasn’t hard to figure out she was a bunny.
“This is Ginny,” said Wendy by way of introduction. “Like you, she’s a bunny. She’ll help you get settled in and can answer questions for you.” She turned to Ginny. “Ginny, this is Jane. Show her around, then take her to Deanna. Tell Deanna to get Jane a uniform and to put her to work afterward. If anyone asks for me, I’ll be in the kitchen counting food items.”
Ginny nodded, honey hair bouncing everywhere. “Yes, ma’am.”
Wendy nodded, then gave me a tolerant smile. “I know this isn’t an easy time for you, Jane, but do try to behave, okay? Things will go much easier for you if do.”
I breathed for several seconds, controlling my urge to leap at her. Then I said, “Yes, ma’am,” in a voice that sounded strangled even to me.
Wendy paused for a moment, then turned and walked toward the kitchen.
Ginny grinned. “You’re really new to being a bunny, aren’t you?”
“Good guess,” I said.
Ginny giggled. “Not a guess. You’re the girl who got caught trying to hide in the kitchen this past weekend, right? The one who got popped in the butt with heat? What was that about anyway?”
I glanced at her, startled that she knew about me. “Are bunnies always this well informed?”
Ginny took me by the arm and started guiding me toward the back. “Goodness, yes. Bunnies gossip a lot. We have to, if we’re gonna know anything. But I didn’t need gossip to know about this. I was here. You flew right past me when you ran out the door.”
I blinked. “Really? I didn’t see you.”
She shrugged. “You sorta bonked when the cops saw you. I watched ‘em when they popped you in the butt. What’s that like?”
I looked at Ginny. “You’ve never had it happen to you?”
“Nope.”
“So how did the cops catch you?”
Ginny giggled. “They didn’t have to catch me. I was born a bunny. My mom was a bunny and our Master punished her one day by knocking her up. I was born banded. Don’t you know anything about being banded?”
I was outraged. “What?! You’re a bunny just because your mother was one?!”
Ginny shrugged. “That’s just how it works. It’s not so bad. I don’t mind being a bunny, you know? All my needs are taken care of and the work’s not hard.”
“Are all bunnies born into it like that?”
“Nope. A lot of them are sentenced to it, like you and Deanna.”
That was interesting. “Deanna got sentenced too? What’d she do?”
Ginny giggled. “Stole some stuff. Got totally busted.”
“Totally,” I agreed, impressed. It sounded like some of my fellow bunnies were hardcore.
We went down a hallway with numbered doors on either side. We stopped at room 5, where the door was open. Inside the room, a brunette was making the bed.
Ginny pointed to the brunette. “That’s Deanna there. She’s the lead bunny.”
The bubbly blonde tapped on the door with her nails. “Deanna, this is Jane! She’s the probation bunny. Wendy wants you to get her a uniform and stuff.”
Deanna finished making the bed, then turned to look at me. Her brown eyes made a nice contrast to the forest green band around her throat. She looked vaguely familiar.
“Hello, Jane,” she said, her cool voice adding an odd emphasis on my name. “Welcome to our humble abode.”
I nodded. “Thanks. Do I know you from somewhere?”
Deanna paused for only a moment before shaking her head. “I don’t believe so.”
Ginny said, “I gotta go finish cleaning the tables before we open for lunch.”
Deanna nodded. “Yeah, you better get back. Jane, you’re with me. Let’s introduce you to everybody and get you set up for tonight.”
She walked through the door and I followed. We went back through the main room and into the pool table area, where a guy was cleaning the windows. Deanna walked over to him.
“Peter?” she said. “This is Jane, the probation bunny. She’ll be with us for the next week or so.”
Peter turned. He had dark hair and was wearing tight denim shorts with a tank top that showed off his toned mid-section, but the surprising part of his outfit was the green band on his throat.
“You’re a bunny?!” I blurted, before he even had a chance to speak.
He gave me a bemused look. “Yeah, I’m a buck.”
“A buck?”
“A male bunny is called a buck,” supplied Deanna.
“Oh!” I said. “I didn’t know. Didn’t realize there were guy bunnies. How did that happen?”
Peter shrugged. “That’s what happens in Slate City when you owe gambling debts to the wrong people.”
Ouch.
“Wait a minute,” I said, my eyes dropping to the snug denim shorts showing off his rounded backside. “You mean you have to-“
“Yes,” he said.
Well, damn. I shook my head in amazement. “Sorry, dude. I wouldn’t have thought that’d be a thing in Slate City.”
Peter shrugged. “You’re not from around here, are you? Slatian Alphas love tight holes, and they don’t care who the holes belong to. If you lose a fight to a Slatian Alpha, you’re going to get bent over regardless of plumbing. It’s a trophy to them.”
Wow. That was blunt enough.
“C’mon, Jane,” said Deanna. “Let’s get you dressed.”
*****
I sat stewing in the room I was sharing with Ginny, waiting for my nails to dry.
The short, stretchy skirt and tube top were embarrassing enough, but I had expected that. Hell, I’d spent my first day in jail wearing the stupid uniform. But not being allowed to wear panties while in public? C’mon! And even worse, I had to paint my fingernails and toenails bimbo red. I had to look girly.
“Yep,” said Deanna. “You’re the new bunny, so you have to look cute and adorable, which means cute fingers and toes. I’ll do your hair myself. And don’t forget the red lipstick.”
Making matters worse, I didn’t even get the dignity of a green collar like the others, which indicated public customer service. I hadn’t noticed it at the time, but when Jeremy grabbed my band ring, he’d somehow changed the color of my collar to pink. There was a green horizontal stripe running through the middle, but the predominant color was bimbo pink. It was being made apparent to the entire world that I was nothing but a silly bunny. Literally.
This…stupid...fucking…city.
I stalled as long as I could, but Ginny finally came and told me it was time for me to help with lunch. Grumbling, I got to my feet and followed her out of the room.
Ginny suddenly stopped and squealed. “You painted your toesies! They look so cute!”
I stomped my way down the hall.
*****
Deanna was waiting for me when I got to the kitchen.
“Sit on this stool,” she instructed. “I’m going to fix your hair.”
Grumbling, I dropped onto the stool. Deanna did something with my hair. After a minute, she stepped back.
She nodded in satisfaction. “All done. Now see those two guys sitting at the table near the end of the bar? Go ask them what they want to drink.”
Great. Now I had to be a stupid waitress. Fine. Whatever.
Before going out to the main room, I paused by a mirror to see what Deanna had done to my hair. She had pinned back my black hair in a way that made me look like some kind of adorable urchin. Grrrrrrrr.
I walked to the table. Two athletic guys looked up as I got there.
“Umm, welcome to Sir Gregory’s Pub. What do you want to drink?”
They looked at me oddly. The dark-haired guy said, “Are you a bunny?”
I gave him a look. “Yeah.”
The two guys looked at each other and I suddenly realized why he was asking.
I sighed. “What would you like to drink, sirs?”
The guy with the blond hair chuckled. “You’re new, aren’t you?”
Boy, was he perceptive. Couldn’t get a thing by him. “Yes, sir, I am. Drink?”
“Relax, bunny,” he said. “You’re doing fine. A couple beers, please. Whatever’s on tap.”
I nodded and walked back to the kitchen. I hated this already. Deanna was waiting when I got behind the bar.
I pointed a thumb over my shoulder toward the common area. “They want a couple draft beers and I didn’t even burn the place down. I’m doing good so far, right?”
Deanna shook her head. “Hardly. You didn’t flash them.”
“Sure, I did,” I said. “I…wait…did you say flash them? As in show them my tits?”
Deanna rolled her eyes. “Of course that’s what I mean, Jane. Don’t you know anything? When someone sits down, the first thing you do is show them your boobs. Why else do you think they drink at a place like this? You’re a bunny now and bunny boobs are public property.”
Son of a bitch.
Deanna handed me a tray. “The beer taps are over there. Fill two mugs with Slatian Gold draft, put them on tray and take them to the table. Put the mugs in front of them and then show them your boobs. And smile while you’re doing it, okay? Once they’ve had a good look, pick up the tray and walk away. If you’re lucky, they won’t report you to Wendy.”
Fuck. “And what if I’m unlucky?”
“Then maybe you waddle around with Sir Gregory’s baby swelling your belly for the next nine months. It his favorite punishment.”
Holy shit. They really took bunny discipline seriously around here. Maybe showing these guys my tits wasn’t such a big deal.
I filled the two mugs and dropped them on the tray, then took the tray out to their table. I set the tray down, then set a frosty mug in front of each of them. Then I took a breath, smiled and lifted my top straight up, exposing my ridiculously heavy boobs to them.
There was complete silence for a moment. Then dark hair said, “I love the service at this place.”
Blond hair nodded his agreement. “Nipple rings. Perfect accessories for perfect nipples.”
My face was flaming by this point, but they didn’t sound like they were going to report me to Wendy. Satisfied that I’d dodged a bullet, I picked up the empty tray and headed back to the kitchen.
Deanna was waiting for me. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
I wanted to punch her, but punching another bunny seemed to be a good way to end up with a big belly, so I just clenched my teeth and smiled the best I could.
It was an infuriating lunch hour. It was a weekday and not very busy, so Deanna had me take every customer’s drink order when they walked in. More people saw my bare boobs in that hour than had seen them in my entire previous life. I had a non-stop blush.
It felt like a non-stop parade of customers. How the hell did waitresses do it? I was gaining a newfound respect for the server brigade.
Deanna kept an ongoing critique every time I went to the back. “Not bad. You’re getting better, but when you drop things, you’re picking them up all wrong.”
“Huh? What?”
“When you drop something, you keep bending your knees to pick it up. That’s wrong. You’re a bunny. You bend at the waist.”
My face colored. “I’m not wearing any underwear, remember? If I bend over at the waist to pick up anything, everyone will see my fucking religion.”
“I beg your pardon?”
Oops. “I mean, I’ll reveal my modesty to, well, anyone with working eyes.”
Deanna gave me a flat look. “You’re a bunny. You don’t have modesty. Now do it the way I told you to.”
That made me extra-careful and I didn’t drop anything more. But as I was bringing out two fresh beers to the dark-haired guy and blond guy- my first two customers, whose names were Bruce and Heath- Deanna followed close behind me. As I set the tray on the table, I heard a utensil hit the hardwood floor.
Deanna clucked her tongue. “Oh, dear. Jane, you accidentally knocked a spoon to the floor. Be a good girl and pick it up.”
I was ready to bend at the knees to pick it up, but Deanna watched me with an expectant stare. Teeth clenched, I bent over and snatched the spoon, then quickly straightened. But apparently I didn’t straighten quick enough.
“I’m thinking lunch here again tomorrow,” said Bruce.
“Indubitably,” said Heath. “Indubitably.”
Deanna gave me an approving smile, then turned and walked to the kitchen.
Cheeks burning, I turned back to the tray. I picked up their beers and put them in front of them without a word. Then I snatched the tray off the table.
Bruce picked up his mug. “It’s probably not important, but the spoon thing wasn’t your fault.”
That made me pause. “What do you mean?”
Bruce flicked a hand toward the kitchen. “The other bunny actually knocked it off the table. She was probably just embarrassed and tried to blame the new girl, you know?”
Oh, that fucking wench.
A smile hid my clenched teeth. “You’re right. Probably just embarrassed. Thank you for telling me, though.”
Bruce reached out and patting my bottom condescendingly. “Don’t worry, bunny. You’re doing good.”
I gasped. I wanted to choke Bruce for patting me on the butt like I was some kind of bimbo, but the pressure of his hand against my tattoo made me gulp and lose track of where I was for a moment. Cheeks flushed, I turned and headed back to the kitchen.
*****
The lunch and early evening wasn’t too busy. Deanna, Ginny and I began falling into a rotating pattern for serving the customers. Peter sometimes helped serve drinks as well, although he was also doing more of the physical tasks involved, such as moving crates from the store room to the bar, or getting ice. He was the favored server for a certain number of drinkers.
More customers came in as the night wore on. It didn’t get packed, but it was busy. Being a new bunny, I got more than my share of gropes and pats. It was infuriating. And having to flash them every time I walked to a new table was embarrassing as fuck. I was ready to choke someone. Anyone.
And of course everyone became clumsy as all get out when I was around. Utensils got dropped with great regularity. It was as if every patron in the bar suddenly became fumble-fingered the moment I walked to the table. It wasn’t too difficult to figure out they just wanted me to bend over to pick stuff up off the floor. Grrrrrrr.
After a particularly grueling session of gropes and pats from a large table of customers, I stomped back to the kitchen for a short break. I needed to cool off or I was going to end up in big trouble. Deanna and Ginny were in the kitchen for a brief break as well. So of course that’s when Wendy decided to come talk to me.
She looked at me evenly. “I must say you’re doing surprisingly well so far. Your effort to fit in with the festive environment here comes as a pleasant surprise.”
That was unexpected. “Thank you, Wen- er, ma’am.”
She nodded. “I’m extremely impressed you’re trying so hard to please, but you really don’t need to flash your breasts to every customer as a greeting. Unless they ask you to, of course. And I realize you’re likely not familiar with how to wear a skirt, but I recommend you bend at the knees when you pick up items from the floor. Or at the very least, I’d recommend you wear panties.”
I stared at Wendy, thunderstruck. “But I thought…I was told…I mean…you mean…I don’t have to do those things?! Ma’am?”
Wendy looked at me quizzically. “No, you don’t. Not specifically, at any rate. You will be doing more than that before long, but you don’t have to do them as a daily practice. You thought they were required?”
“Yes! Deanna said I had to!”
The corners of Wendy’s mouth twitched. She glanced at Deanna. “Is this true, Deanna?”
The wench actually managed to look contrite. “Yes, ma’am. I was just having a little fun with the new girl. I was hoping it would help her relax. And I thought she’d look cute with red fingers and toes.”
Wendy actually laughed. She thought it was funny!
“All right, Deanna,” she said. “You’ve had your fun. But Jane’s been through enough for one night. No more, please.”
I was changing colors. “It’s not okay! She told me…she said…she-“
“Shush, Jane,” said Wendy. She looked me up and down. “It was just a harmless prank to welcome you to the pub, even if you’re only here for a week. And Deanna’s right- you do look cute with red fingers and toes. Leave your nails as they are. You may put on some underwear, though, and you can stop flashing the pub your bare breasts every five minutes. Now go to your room to put on some panties and cool off for five minutes. Then report back here.”
I breathed through the anger for several seconds, glaring daggers at Deanna. Then I forced myself to exhale. “Yes, ma’am. Can I wear shoes?”
“Don’t be silly. With your attitude, you’re lucky you even get to wear clothes.”
Grrrrrrr.
“All right.”
“Excuse me?”
Dammit. “I mean, yes, ma’am.”
“Good girl,” said Wendy.
*****
It took a supreme effort of will not to choke Deanna. Or at least squeeze her band until it wrung her scrawny neck. I needed the entire five minutes to cool off and it wasn’t nearly enough. It was close to fifteen minutes later when I got back to my feet and forced myself to walk back to the main room. I moved as slowly as possible.
Ginny seemed to be a legitimately sweet girl who was liked by everybody, so when she told me she hadn’t known what Deanna was doing, I believed her.
“I didn’t know! Honest to blueberries, I didn’t!” She giggled then. “Buuuuut, it was kinda funny, you know? I mean, every time somebody walked in, boobies!”
I grumbled that I didn’t think it was funny at all, but it was hard to remain that furious in the face of her cheery disposition. I finally just rolled my eyes and walked away. There didn’t seem to be any talking to her when she was feeling silly.
As I got closer to the common room, I noticed there seemed to be more noise than there had been earlier. It sounded busier, yes, but rowdier as well. In fact, as I got closer, it became obvious the crowd was singing.
A lusty young smith at his vise stood a-filing,
His hammer laid by but his forge still aglow,
When to him a buxom young damsel came smiling
And asked him if to work at her forge he would go.
With a jingle bang, jingle bang, jingle bang, jingle,
With a jingle bang, jingle bang, jingle, hi ho!
Oh, for fuck’s sake. They were singing pub songs. As if I didn’t already have enough problems.
I walked into the common room and sure enough, they were all going at it like idiots. And they were being led by what was probably the biggest idiot in the pub. A huge bearded dude was standing in front of everybody, waving a mug of ale like a baton to lead the singing crowd. His hair was iron gray, but he looked like he could throw any six guys around the bar. A Viking wanna-be, probably.
Just what I needed. Some ancient dude with a mid-life crisis. He was probably gonna paw my ass all night. Grrrrrrr.
And of course that’s when one of our patrons ran into me with a full mug of ale. My eyes widened and I squealed as the cold beverage soaked my tube top. I stumbled back a step, hands between my wobbling boobs, my nipples hardening in response to the chilled liquid.
The man shook his head in exasperation. “Geez, bunny. You really need to be more careful.”
I opened my mouth to verbally tear him a new one, but remembered where I was and decided that punching this guy in the throat on my first night here was probably a bad idea. I spun around and stomped on bare feet back to the kitchen area.
Unfortunately, I was well aware of where they kept the spare bunny uniforms.
I walked to the bunny changing room and opened the door. The room I had hidden out in the night I tried to get away from the cops. The last night I had without a collar on my neck.
I took off the ale-soaked tube top and dropped it on the floor. I looked over the spare tops dangling from hangars across a bar. They all looked the same.
Footsteps thudded just outside the door, heavy footsteps. Suddenly the door swung open.
I jumped, arms instinctively crossing over my chest. “HEY! Do you fucking mind?!”
A deep barrel laugh sounded and I realized it was the huge bearded man from the common room. He looked even bigger close up. He had to be six-to-eight inches over six feet, big-bellied but impossibly thick across his chest and shoulders.
His deep voice boomed. “Of course I don’t mind, lass! Topless bunnies are a delight to behold!”
Oh, gawd. He was flirting. The guy had to be pushing sixty and he was flirting. He was in for a world of disappointment.
I gave him my steeliest glare. “That’s nice. Now get the fuck out of here and let me finish changing before I kick you so hard, you’re singing your next pub song as a soprano.”
I realized belatedly that I had probably just crossed several bunny lines and gotten myself in deep hot water with Wendy, but there had to be some rule somewhere about customers just barging into the back. Hopefully that would be enough to keep me out of trouble.
Not that viking-dude seemed to care. He just laughed.
“Oh, come now, lass. Surely I’m not as bad as all that?”
I opened my mouth to let him know that yes, he was indeed as bad as all that, but sudden warmth shot through my band. My nipples hardened again, but not because they were bare or cold. My hips twitched and I was lubricating.
Lubricating like crazy, actually. I had been back in panties again for barely fifteen minutes and I was already so fucking wet, they were probably ruined. And I didn’t care.
The fucking barbarian took a step closer. Gawd, his scent was making me even wetter. So masculine. Strong. Powerful. Potent. Pure fucking man.
“You’re a little fireball, aren’t you?” he rumbled, placing his huge hand on my shoulder, almost knocking me to my knees. “Big, bouncing titties, just like they should be.”
My pussy was molten lava. He reached down and tweaked my rigid nipple and I gasped. Pure electricity shot through my belly, jolting my already sopping sex.
My fingers fumbled at his pants. I managed to get his belt undone, get his pants unbuttoned, causing his pants to drop to his ankles. He reached out and picked me up effortlessly. We were in the kitchen now, but that didn’t matter. Still in the air, I found myself suddenly slammed against the wall, breathless, held aloft by one heavy hand. His other hand tore away my soaked panties. My stretch-skirt alone remained, encircling my waist.
I felt my bare back sliding down the wall slightly, but only slightly. There was a pressure against my pussy lips now, a huge pressure, and the teeny tiny part of my brain that was still working identified it as the huge, bulbous head of this giant’s cock pressing against me, trying to force entry.
And then my traitor pussy’s lubrication allowed the monstrous thing to penetrate, filling my volcanic pussy with hot, thick, powerful cock.
I squirmed, breathless, as that rigid shaft drove inside me, filling me, forcing my thighs apart. He grunted as he felt my pussy, impossibly tight around his thick shaft, squeezing his cock. He shifted slightly, hooking his arms under my legs and putting my bare feet on his shoulders.
He then proceeded to pound me fucking silly.
His huge hips drove that cock into me again and again, not letting me breathe. I was beyond full, my pussy impossibly stretched, but I was beyond feeling pain. His massive balls slapped against my ass as he pushed that fat cockhead against my cervix repeatedly. I could feel my heat rising, my traitor body responding to this ridiculously masculine savage fucking me silly. Using me as a cocksleeve to satisfy his fucking primal urges. My traitor body didn’t care. I shuddered, moaned, shuddered again.
I tried to resist. That tiny corner of my brain that was still my own told me to resist, to fight. But then my pussy was contracting around that shaft and I was crying out, coming like a fucking slut, shuddering, coming on that cock again and again.
He didn’t care that I was coming. He was simply satisfying himself, fucking a hot, wet hole. But my non-stop orgasms were causing my pussy to squeeze his cock even more, and I suddenly knew what was coming. With a roar, he jammed his cock fully inside me one last time and, with my pussy gripping the base of his mighty shaft, proceeded to fill me with an impossibly heavy load of hot, molten semen.
His throbbing cock and crazy hot insemination wrenched another ragged orgasm from my wrecked body. I couldn’t stop it. My eyes were glazed, my throat raw from moaning. I was no longer thinking, just reacting. I was just a joytoy, a sloppy wet hole for this mighty cock.
The brute held my motionless body in place as he drained the last of his semen inside me. Finally satisfied, he grunted and pulled me off his cock with a wet slurp. He dropped me onto a nearby stainless steel table.
A faraway voice sounded, a voice I vaguely recognized as Wendys. “Umm, sir? We do have to prepare food on that table.”
The giant laughed.
My heartbeat was starting to slow to normal and I was able to breathe again. Barely. I cracked open an eye.
And realized that a number of people were standing in the kitchen. Looking at me laying on the table. Naked. And wet. Still very, very wet.
Eyes wide, I squealed and rolled off the table, realizing too late that my legs weren’t working at all. Blushing furiously from head-to-toe, my knees wobbling like a new-born calf’s, I half-walked, half-crawled into the bunny changing room and slammed the door. I was never coming out of there again.
There was laughter in the kitchen. Then I heard Wendy’s voice on the other side of the door say, “Well, Jane, I see you’ve already met Sir Gregory.”
*****
It took me nearly an hour to get my brains back together, and even then I was still a wet, wrecked mess.
Ginny giggled enviously. “Sir Gregory has that effect. He’s, umm, kind of a force of nature, you know? He’ll totally obliterate you down there.”
I shrugged nonchalantly, trying desperately to cling to a shred of dignity. I knew damn well I’d be lucky to get out of bed in the morning, but I wasn’t about to admit that. Of course, my legs were so rubbery from the frickin’ two hundred orgasms I’d had that I could barely walk now, but I wasn’t about to admit that either.
I directed a dark look toward the other side of the common room, where Sir Gregory was regaling a number of patrons with a story of one of his adventures. “Is he allowed to just walk in and pound the bunnies senseless like that anytime he wants?”
Ginny looked at me like I’d grown an extra head next to the one I already had. “He’s a Master! Of course he’s allowed!”
I grumbled, mumbling something about Masters being stupid.
Ginny poked me in the belly and said, “It was totally hot to watch. He hammered, like, a million cummies out of you, cutie. Maybe you’ll be in a better mood now.”
Face flaming, I snatched my drink tray and fled.
Apparently Wendy, the bartender Cliff, Deanna, Ginny and several other staff members had stood there the whole time watching me getting fucked senseless. I was never going to live this down.
Deanna passed close by then. “Hey, Jane. Sir Gregory wants a refill. Wendy wants you to bring it to him.”
I glared at Deanna, not trusting her one bit. Deanna pointed toward Wendy, who was behind the bar. Wendy nodded.
Grrrrrr.
Deanna leaned forward. “Maybe you’ll get lucky and Sir Gregory will bend you over and do you right there in front of everybody.” Her nipples hardened as she spoke.
I spoke through clenched teethy. “I don’t think so.”
“Could happen,” said Deanna, smirking.
I narrowed my eyes. “What’s your problem with me? I haven’t even been here a day.”
Deanna looked at me. “You really don’t remember me, do you?”
I stared at her incredulously. “I don’t even know you! How could I? I’ve been in this stupid city for 3 days and two-and-a-half of those days have been spent in jail. How the hell could we have met even a single time?”
She looked at me through narrowed eyes. “A single time? Try twice. And I wasn’t impressed either time.”
I was at a loss. “What are you talking about?”
She rolled her eyes. “Before you got arrested. Out back. Now get Sir Gregory his drink before you get us both into trouble.”
With that, Deanna turned and walked into the kitchen.
I walked behind the bar and filled a frosty mug for Sir Gregory, mind whirling, trying to remember everything from that day. And I finally got it. Deanna was the bunny I snapped at when she came into the alley.
No wonder she looked familiar. All right, maybe I had been a little wenchy, but fuck. I didn’t know, you know? At least I knew now why she was mad at me.
Fine. I’d deal with that at some point. But at the moment, I had bigger problems. Namely, the fact that I had to take this drink out to Sir Gregory, the huge dude who’d just screwed me like a slut less than an hour ago. And more importantly, I had to get away afterward with my fucking dignity intact.
The trick was in the approach, I decided. He was sitting at the bar, but he had his back to it, as he was turned and facing the crowd behind him. He was gesturing expansively as he told his story, playing to his audience. I walked behind the bar and made my way toward where he was sitting.
Since he was facing the other direction, he wouldn’t even know I was there. All I had to do was get near him and set his mug down right behind him. I’d be in and out without him even seeing me. The perfect crime.
I padded to his position on (literally) silent bunny feet. He had no clue I was there. Just as I set down his mug, though, he turned suddenly and bellowed, “Bunny!”
I jumped, gasping, nearly wetting myself. There was a thunk and the pub went silent.
I blinked, wondering why everybody had stopped talking. Then I saw they were staring at the bar, so I looked down.
Sir Gregory’s mug was laying on its side. I had spilled his beer when I jumped.
Eyes wide, I looked up at the giant man, heart thumping in my throat.
“My BEER!” he roared, reaching over the bar and lifting me in the air with both hands.
I was about to die. I was flying through the air to meet my fate. Then I landed on his lap, huffing as the breath was forced from my lungs.
“The new bunny spilled my beer!” bellowed Sir Gregory. “How do we punish beer-spilling bunnies at Sir Gregory’s Pub?”
“You punished her in the kitchen ‘alf an hour ago, Sir G! Her hands are still shaking! No wonder she spilled your beer!”
The crowd laughed, including Sir Gregory.
“I bet you’re right, son!” said the giant man. “Still, we can’t let this fetching little thing get off scot-free now, can we?”
The crowd began offering spirited suggestions and it fortunately seemed like Sir Gregory was just having fun. He didn’t actually appear angry. But in the meantime, I was still sprawled across his broad lap, held in place by his heavy paw.
He listened to the shouted suggestions good-naturedly for several seconds, then held up a finger as if a great idea had just occurred to him.
“I’ve got it! I’ve got the appropriate punishment. A good old-fashioned spanking!”
Oh, gawd, no. The crowd roared its approval. I was already trying to wriggle off his lap, but his hand probably weighed more than I did and I had no chance of getting out from under it. I felt his other hand pulling my stretch skirt over my hips, baring my bottom to the entire crowd.
Sir Gregory’s voice boomed to all corners of the tavern. “Well, how about that! It seems our bunny here has an adorable tattoo on her bunny ass! And is that an appropriate tattoo or what?”
I closed my eyes, cheeks burning with embarrassment. The whole pub was looking at my bare ass. Looking at the huge BIMBO tattoo on my bare ass cheek. I was going to choke Lady Max next time I saw her.
“What say you, lads?” boomed Sir Gregory, still playing to the crowd. “Time to discipline our little bunny, right?”
There were cheers. I felt Sir Gregory’s hand lift from my hips where he had pulled up my skirt. Then his heavy hand came down against my tattooed butt cheek with a THWACK!
My eyes popped open and I gasped. Sir Gregory’s swat wasn’t meant to hurt- he was just having fun- but a swat from the huge man was still going to have an effect, half-hearted or not. But that wasn’t what made me breathless. What had made me gasp was the sudden burst of heat that shot out from where Sir Gregory’s hand made contact with my tattooed butt cheek.
Sir Gregory swatted me again and I squealed, my belly muscles jumping. Sensing he was having an effect on me, the huge man continued swatting my ass. I was squeaking, trying to wriggle off his lap, but I couldn’t budge. Sir Gregory continued swatting my reddening bottom, even as I squirmed and wriggled.
Every spank was sending electric jolts through my belly, my sex, everything. I was turning into a wet, wriggling mess right there on Sir Gregory’s lap. And he knew it.
“Well, now, look at that, lads! I think the bunny likes it!”
Oh, gawd. This wasn’t going to happen. It was NOT going to happen. There was NO FUCKING WAY I WAS GOING TO ORGASM WHILE BEING SPANKED IN PUBLIC!
And then, cheeks crimson, I moaned and came like a slut in front of the whole pub as Sir Gregory spanked my bare butt with that heavy hand.
I couldn’t stop. I squirmed, wriggled and writhed, but the spanking had gone too deep. The weight of that hand, being handled by a true Master, his authority emanating from his every move, Sir Gregory spanked me like a bad girl and made me come.
Suddenly I was flying through the air again, although I was placed on my feet this time. I was breathless, my hair was messy and all over the place, and I was blushing from my face all the way to my toes.
Sir Gregory grunted good-naturedly. “Now be a good bunny and fetch me a fresh beer. Make sure it’s in a frosted mug.”
I scurried away, hands tugging my stretch skirt down into place. I was going to get Sir Gregory a beer in a frosted mug and I was going to get it quickly. And I wasn’t going to spill it.
*****
It was well after midnight and I was under the covers of my bed in the room I was sharing with Ginny. She was brushing her hair.
Ginny was yawning and that was good. I was waiting for her to fall asleep.
I ached from head-to-toe. I had never been so exhausted in my life. But they had miscalculated if they thought that was going to stop me.
Ginny finally settled into bed, her blonde hair framing her pretty face. Her eyes were already closing.
Good.
I was surprised at the lack of security. There was nothing in place to keep me here. The door didn’t even have a lock. Maybe the other bunnies were fine with that, but if they thought I was going to remain here even one more night, they were out of their mind. As soon as I was sure Ginny was completely asleep, I was heading out that door. Sure, I’d still have this collar locked on my neck, but I’d worry about that later.
I waited until Ginny’s breathing was completely even and then got to my feet. I was still wearing my bunny uniform. It was time.
I was just taking my first step when the door suddenly swung open. Wendy stood framed in the doorway.
She looked at my skirt, then back at me. “Hello, Jane. Going somewhere?”
“No,” I said, though I needn’t have bothered. We both knew I was lying.
She stared at me for a moment, then twirled her finger and said, “Turn around.”
I sighed and turned around.
“Lift your skirt. I want to see your tattoo.”
Grrrrr. I reached down and pulled my stretch skirt over my hips, baring my bottom.
“Satisfied?” I said, my teeth clenched.
“Quite,” she said.
Phhhhht!
I gasped, feeling the sudden sharp pinch in my right butt cheek. I blinked and tried to turn around, but it was too late. My limbs were already numbing, my mouth dropping open. I fell forward, face-first onto the bed, my feet still on the floor.
I heard unhurried steps behind me. A moment later, Wendy sat on the bed next to my motionless figure.
“That’s a time-release quill dart in your bottom, Jane,” said Wendy, showing me a quill projector that appeared to be more complex than the ones used by the Slate City police. “It’s going to keep you quilled for the next 8 hours. You’re still a guest of the Slate City PD, so we need to make sure you don’t go wandering in the night. We don’t normally cuff probationary bunnies while they’re sleeping, but in your case, we’re going to make an exception. I know you had a hard day and you’re having trouble adjusting, but that doesn’t mean it’s okay for you to try to elope.”
She stood then and proceeded to press my unresisting arms together. She took a pair of leather wrist-cuffs and cuffed my wrists together behind my back. Then, almost as an after-thought, she pushed a red ball gag into my mouth and secured it behind my head. Quilled to the eyeballs, unable to move, I could only watch her through half-lidded eyes. Drooling around the ball-gag.
Wendy finally stepped back, satisfied I was secured for the night. “This will do for tonight. However, bunny, the next time you even think about eloping, I’ll quill you for 24 hours and leave you in the common room wearing nothing but a diaper. Do not test me, brat.”
She turned then and exited the room, leaving me bent over the bed, cuffed and gagged, cheek to the bed comforter, quill dart sticking out of my bare butt cheek.
Much like Jeremy and Sir Gregory, Wendy apparently wasn’t someone to cross either.