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Bunny's Story
by DeviantAgenda (321chatwin@gmail.com)

***

A young woman's love of a dog leads her into a 
nightmare of perversion. (MF/beast, reluc)

***

Long after the ordeal, if there was such a thing as 
after, Bunny Rengel would blame her mother. Had her 
mother let Bunny have a dog nothing would have 
happened. How do I know you'll take of it, her mother 
had said, which, looking back, was pure irony. Do you 
have any idea, mother, what I've done to take care of 
a dog?

Perhaps ironic as well, Bunny didn't blame Mr. Thomas. 
She felt other things, certainly: hatred, rage, 
disgust... as well as, despite everything...less 
reconcilable emotions: devotion, need, longing. How 
could she not on some level long for the man who knew 
her core being so completely, who accepted her, who 
had molded her? 

She had always regarded him in a different light 
compared with other grown-ups. He was handsome, but 
not in any GQ way. She knew her mom had a crush on 
him, and that alone spoke volumes. Bunny could see 
why--there was no mistaking his presence or strength. 
He was, when he chose to be, ruthlessly charming. She 
often wondered if he had twisted her mother around his 
finger from the beginning in order to have easier 
access to her, Bunny. 

He had never talked down to Bunny, which somehow gave 
extra weight to his comments, his bits of 
strategically placed approval, justified words of 
reproach. However, the most noticeable difference 
between Mr. Thomas and other grown-ups, other men, 
became apparent after Bunny started to develop. 
Bunny's tits developed early, and in earnest. Large, 
firm tits swaying from her chest before most of her 
girlfriends had even sprouted nubs. The moronic 
comments from the boys were easy to shrug off, the 
taunts from the girls less so. But it was the reaction 
of men that was the most unsettling. 

There were two camps, the sneaks and the pervs. The 
sneaks stole furtive peaks and glances whenever they 
could, eyes darting away whenever she became aware. 
The pervs were oddly less annoying. They held their 
glances and might try to catch her eye. At first she 
would blush and turn away, but soon she realized that 
the easiest way to defuse a perv was to match his 
gaze, and then he'd be the one shuffling away. 

The worst reaction by far was from her dad. It was as 
though she ceased to exist, in a physical way, anyway. 
Her childhood in his embraces, his warm affection, his 
sweet good night hugs? Gone. It was like she emitted 
toxic rays or something. He basically stopped looking 
at her at all.

But Mr. Thomas? He seemed totally unfazed by her 
changes. He never stopped looking at her, didn't treat 
her differently, didn't avoid her or seek her out, 
continued to talk to her in that easy grown up way, 
even if the tone and tenor of his gazes did change. 
His looks made her squirm—long, unhurried looks that 
lingered over her form, her tits, her ass, her legs 
with a calmness and openness that made her tingle. And 
made her, in an odd sense, feel seen—seen for who she 
was, for who she was becoming. 

But the real reason Bunny could never blame Mr. 
Thomas, could never, despite everything, wish him out 
of her life, was that he was the reason for Rex. Rex, 
Mr. Thomas's adorable, furry, big black mutt of a dog. 
When he first moved in, Bunny had squealed with 
delight, the dog she was never allowed living right 
next door. But, typically, her mother had strictly 
forbidden her from going over to bother the neighbor 
over "that stupid dog," And then the impossible: Mr. 
Thomas realized her interest in Rex and had slowly 
worked his magic. 

Not only was Bunny allowed the occasional visit, over 
the years her mother gave her blessing to Rex being 
Bunny's surrogate dog. Bunny was allowed to feed Rex, 
take him for walks. She didn't even mind cleaning up 
after him. It seemed completely natural, not at all 
gross or disgusting like her girlfriends said it was. 
She became Rex's official dog walker. She was 
entrusted with the keys to Mr. Thomas's house and took 
care of Rex when he was away. 

During that summer, the summer, she was over at Mr. 
Thomas's more than ever. She grew tired of the boys 
fumbling over her, of her girlfriends being catty and 
back stabbing, of the grown-ups being so incredibly 
lame and treating her so differently. Rex was perfect. 
He adored her. Barked and went generally crazy the 
second he saw her. They would wrestle around the yard 
through long, warm afternoons. He listened to 
everything she told him. Kissed her face with slobbery 
dog kisses that she increasingly loved. When he was 
worn out, she could rest her head on the barrel of his 
chest and read while he slept in the shade.

And Mr. Thomas was awesome, too. Never complained 
about her being around. Gave her and Rex plenty of 
space. There was an edge to him that made her mind her 
manners, but an affectionate side that made her feel 
welcome.

The first hint of what would follow happened during 
late afternoon. She and Mr. Thomas were talking by the 
front door, something about his needing her to look 
after Rex that weekend. Bunny remembered Mr. Thomas's 
eyes being more intensely on her than usual. She 
remembered what she was wearing: tight white cotton 
shorts that were form fitting snug and a sky blue 
halter top with built in cups so no need for a 
cumbersome bra. Barefoot. Rex trotted over from the 
back yard and while she was squirming a bit under Mr. 
Thomas's gaze, Rex unceremoniously stuck his nose 
right into Bunny's mound. It wasn't like he'd never 
done that before. He did it a lot, actually, and Bunny 
would just shove his head away and sometimes even roll 
her eyes if he was being persistent. 

But this time he did it right in front of someone. And 
not just someone, but Mr. Thomas. Bunny blushed 
crimson, pushed her hands and arms down over her 
thighs and said, "Rex!"

To her astonishment, Mr. Thomas replied, "He's just 
smelling you. Why are you embarrassed?"

Rex's snout continued to try to push under her hands. 
Bunny gasped as his long, wet, sand papery tongue 
snaked out and swiped along her inner thigh.

"I'm... I'm not embarrassed," Bunny lied.

"Then let him smell."

Bunny looked up at Mr. Thomas. Felt the trap. If she 
continued to resist then she obviously was 
embarrassed, and was obviously a liar. Somehow, it was 
really important to Bunny that Mr. Thomas think she 
was honest. Slowly she stood straight, her heart 
pounding in her chest, and put her hands to her sides. 
Rex immediately lunged at her mound, pressing his nose 
into her slit while Bunny's eyes rolled back in her 
head, her senses flooded with conflicting thoughts, 
emotions, sensations. Before she could push him away 
again, Mr. Thomas snapped his fingers, and Rex sat, 
whined, looking expectantly at each of them in turn.

"So, I leave in the morning, Bunny. I won't have time 
to take Rex for his morning run."

She nodded. Said something in return and ran back 
through her sliding glass doors and up to her room, 
where she lay on her side, thighs pressed together, a 
flood of arousal coursing through her. She wasn't 
positive, but sensed she might have even had an orgasm 
as she rocked herself long and slow on her bed. 

That night she explored herself in a way she had never 
done before. Explored her body. Felt herself. Felt her 
lips, amazed at how slick and sticky they were. Felt 
deeper into the folds, along her ridges. She imaged 
herself standing there. Mr. Thomas looking down on 
her. Rex digging his snout into her slit, hitting that 
magic button with his nose, and the twisting sensation 
in her belly that rippled through her thighs as she 
stood and let Rex have full access to her smell, and 
Mr. Thomas full view. Her body shuddered again, 
tightened, and convulsed.

She spent the entire day Saturday with Rex. Took him 
on his run. Fed him, played in the yard. He watched a 
movie with her. Snuggled up on the couch with her 
after supper, fell asleep with her, both of them 
sprawled out on the cushions. She woke that night, 
feeling his paw scrapping against her tummy. As she 
slide it away Rex stretched, his paw catching her 
right on her pussy, his stretching sending an 
excruciating jolt through her entire body, before he 
settled down, his neck now on her mound, his furry 
head on her belly. She felt his warmth against her 
pussy the entire remainder of her restless night.

On Sunday, Bunny went through the day in a fog. She 
looked at the clock, counting down the hours until Mr. 
Thomas was due home. By afternoon it was time to 
decide. Was she going to do it or not. She looked at 
the clock again. Without allowing further time to 
think, Bunny suddenly stood up, feeling the heat 
between her legs. She called out, "Rex. Here boy!"

He ambled over. Sat facing her, looking up to her 
face. Bunny closed her eyes, waiting for him to press 
his snout into her. She opened her eyes. "Rex." She 
patted her thigh, pulling the waist of her short denim 
skirt up, hoping her smell would be more pronounced. 
Rex leaned forward and licked her leg. Bunny furrowed 
her brown. Lifted her skirt up around her hips, her 
mound arching out in front of her, cupped in thin 
white panties. "Rex, come on!" But he continued to 
look at her.

Bunny's agitation increased. She crossed to the living 
room. Pulled the coffee table to the side. Rex 
followed and watched. She gave him an annoyed glare 
and unzipped her skirt, stepped out of it. She 
breathed deep. Peeled her panties off. Stood there, 
bottomless. "What the hell," she muttered and took off 
her top. Completely naked, she sat on the sofa, 
scooted her ass to the edge of the cushion, placed her 
feet up and out, her heels pressed to her ass cheeks. 
"Rex, it is here if you want it." 

She then closed her eyes and began to play with 
herself. Let her fingertips roam and explore and 
travel over her lips. She dipped her fingertip into 
the tight entrance to her hole, and spread the 
drizzling juices along her folds and up over her slit, 
feeling herself respond and moisten.

And then she felt it. A long, slow, luxurious, 
impossibly intense swipe of Rex's tongue along her 
slit. She instantly convulsed and thrust her hips 
forward, a little mini orgasm instantly searing 
through her. She gasped, panted, collected herself. 
Then resettled and opened her pussy lips wide and 
waited, completely still. And then it continued. Swipe 
after swipe of that long rough tongue along her folds, 
lapping, lapping, lapping at her. Lapping up and over 
and across her gash. His tongue hitting low, right 
along her asshole and swiping up over her inner lips, 
her fingers struggling to open herself even wider. 

She felt the tension build, a tension like a massive 
tidal wave in her belly that was ready to crash with a 
thunderous intensity that she couldn't believe was 
possible... until she was suddenly aware that she 
wasn't alone. In a panic that paralyzed her, her 
orgasm instantly suspended in an agonizing freeze, her 
eyes bolted open--as if awaking with a start from a 
dream--to see herself staring straight into Mr. 
Thomas's smoldering, piercing, scorn filled eyes. But 
this wasn't waking from a dream. 

The unmistakable proof of what she was caught doing 
was so obvious that Bunny's flash of crazed, desperate 
excuses and explanations burst in their own absurdity. 
Bunny groaned in soul wrenching humiliation, wanting 
to scream and screech. Wanting to pound her fists and 
somehow make it all a dream, to reach back through 
time and leave Rex's supper in his dish and run home 
to safety without any of this happening. 

Instead, she rolled to her side, and curled up into a 
naked ball and began to sob, trying to will away the 
reality that she had, in fact, woken into a nightmare.

END

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life in
anyway shape or form. Anyone tempted to act out any of
the scenarios in this story; should seriously consider
seeking professional help.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Kristen's collection - Directory 74