The Bunny Breach (Part 3) free porn video

The Bunny Breach (Part 3) By Cupertino Abstract: Roberto tries to understand what memories are his and hers and whoever else's. Dressed as two sister Playboy Bunnies, Debs and Roberto stood side-by- side in an elevator heading to the top floor. She tried to holdback a smile, letting slip only the slightest of twinges lifting the corners of her mouth. He could tell she felt a little too smug in her secret plans. For himself, he felt completely defeated, drained by humiliation and having been abandoned by his friends. He glanced sideways at her and then up at the elevator panel with red LED numbers showing a double-digit assent to the penthouse. His gut told him that Debs hid a bottomless supply of malice in her soul; maybe not for him, but enough that if it needed to spill over to achieve her vengeance, she wouldn't care if it covered him too. "So," she said, "you must be Roberto within that scrumptious little bod." Her eyes narrowed as she gave him an overdone sexual growl with an added swipe as if she had a clawed paw. "Reee-ow." Normally, he would have joked along with such a playful flirtation. He would retort with a verbal jab or two. But her low rumble and pretend cat claw scratch came from a belittling spite, not humor. No flirting, just bitterness. Being a blondie in a Bunny suit limited his snappy bite back reducing him to a sad silent meekness. He hated the lack of a reaction on his part. It was important to set boundaries in his world of thieves. But the thoughts just didn't flow. His mind remained muddled from the mind manipulating kiss done holding the medallion. She laughed and continued, "I've heard about you: Roberto The Hacker. Mm. I love it when one of you guys gets turned into the fairer sex." "Yes, um, Ma'am, I'm - you know," he said so docilely and lost. His face aimed at the floor in shame as he mumbled, "the hacker guy." He wanted to make a run for it. He knew the job had gone south once the Boss lied and killed to set it up. She turned to face him. Her hand stroked his cinched waist and then patted the flat crotch of the black satin Bunny costume. He gasped, shocked that Debs would touch him there. In fact, with her short stroke along the thigh gap, his demur Bunny Bri hands flew up just like an appalled little girl. "Pathetic," she huffed. "Be a man for god's sake - well, you know what I mean. And actually, I do need you to be a girl." She patted his rear below the oversized cottontail. "So that honest surprised innocent look was actually pretty good. Keep doing what you're doing, girly man." She turned to face the elevator door, returning to a normal ride with a co-worker, but he was freaking out inside. He couldn't skip the fact that he was a Playboy Bunny now. This was not a typical morning commute. Debs huffed. "Look, unfortunately, I don't have an extra Bunny costume fitted for you. I've been running short on seamstresses to make more. Since you're a junior Bunny, your suit shouldn't be black, or blue like mine. Bri hasn't been here long enough to justify either color. And I don't have time myself to fit you for another satin bodice, like orange or yellow - for you, how about a bronze satin? The least popular color. So, damn it, the Boss should have known better. Anyway, I'll get you into the study off the master bedroom." "What's the big deal about the black?" "You'll find out soon enough. Basically, the others are going to be jealous, seeing how Bunny Bri managed to move up a notch so quickly. Damn him. I needed you to blend in, not stand out. Our lives depend on you being convincing, and now everyone's going to wonder about the new costume Bri is wearing and what it means. They're going to stop by my office and complain: "But Den Mother, why?" She shook her head in disgust. "Blast. I needed to train you this morning, not worry about bitchy Bunnies and their completive attitudes. Men! What idiots." "It's just black. Seems pretty conservative - in a Playboy Bunny sort'a way." Roberto looked down at himself. Was he missing something here? Other than his deep cleavage? His eyes locked and lingered there a little too long. "Black is the most requested color. It's sexy. So only senior Bunnies get it. Still, someone has to be left to complete the rainbow of colors. Personally, I think a deep royal blue is better." She did a Vanna White modeling gesture along her svelte figure. Then she looked angry again. "Just dig into those Bri memories. If you flake out like Sam did and waddle about like a man in drag, I'll pull you out of here. I bet the Boss off'ed him, huh? Useless thief." She raised her eyebrows waiting for confirmation. Roberto nodded yes about Sam being terminated. "Fuck. What a bastard your boss is. When I get my money, I'm so out of here." "Me too," he said, like he had the option to high-tail it out of town. The thought of the word tail stuck - he was a wretched Bunny. He took a deep breath as the elevator slowed and the doors opened. "Get me there," he whispered, "and I'll breach the security in no time." Debs held the door open. "Well, that sounds confident and professional. I like that." Roberto looked up at his new partner in crime. She stood so much taller than him. She seemed to like subtle alpha dominating gestures, like putting a hand on Roberto's shoulder to guide him along the cement corridors, leading away from the service elevator. Normally, he would shake off such a condescending shoulder hold, but he needed to fit in. He needed to play along. He would be demur and deferential and girly if it meant getting back home. They marched forward, clicking their heels through a kitchen fit for a commercial restaurant, except fancier than more practical set-ups of stainless steal. Harder to clean white cabinets and white marble counter tops surrounded the perimeter and built up two islands in the center. It looked pristine and unused. "This kitchen is for the ballroom events. With security so high, we don't have so much of those." Debs waved her hands about to give it the one-nickel tour. "Greenburg has the top four floors all to himself, and us, the staff. There is a smaller kitchen on the other side used daily for our host. This kitchen is for large events. Sometimes it's nice to hide out here. It's pretty much abandoned. Used once or twice a year. You know last year, he had his girls dressed as French maids. The year before that, latex robot suits. I prefer the Bunny, myself." "Yeah, sure," he said. "Latex squeaks too much." "You're right." She tapped her index finger on the tip of his nose and nodded. "Latex is noisy." Two Bunnies, yellow and purple, sat gabbing to each over a large wood table hidden off in a side butler's pantry. Surprised at seeing someone else, they smiled and returned to their conversation. The Yellow Bunny whispered intentionally loudly, "I'm more senior than Bri." She scoffed and told the Purple Bunny, "Bri shouldn't be in black." "Shh," said Purple. "Greenburg might have a new favorite." "No way. Bri? Already. The bitch." "Looks like it. How else?" Roberto didn't like being labeled a favorite of a murdering crime boss. Before he could ask for details, Debs pushed a swing door wide open and strode out into blinding daylight flooding a grand foyer, decorated in a 1960's swanky style. He caught the swinging door on its slap back at him. He and his extended Bunny ears peered from behind the door's safe cover. An open field spanned before him of tiled foyer floor paths connecting shag carpeted circular pits foxholed by couches, gapped on tangents by a couple entry steps going down into the more private dens. He took a couple paces out into the open floor not wanting to look afraid. He felt like Bambi's mother going out into the meadow for food, just before she got shot. Of course, in this analogy and being a Bunny, he would have to be Thumper's mother. He rejected the notions. He didn't want to put himself into the mother category or a hunter's quarry category either. The bright sunlight made his costumed body's curves plain as day. No more hiding in a dark van now. He would be on parade from this point on. Still he stood timid, fully exposed to sniper fire in the middle of an acre of the 1960's teleported to a modern penthouse. His Bunny tail might as well have a target sign of concentric circles. He wanted to hide and avoid being easy prey for grabby men, the ones Bri remembered. Her soul pushed more and more images into his mind. Was she trying to help or take over? As the swinging door closed behind him, Roberto managed to hear the Yellow Bunny add, "I guess better her than either of us. Black's not worth it." He cringed and tried to convince himself that they spoke out far too loudly. Surely just sour grapes, because the two Bunnies wanted to be in black satins too, despite possible extra duties with Greenburg. Unlike Miss Yellow and Purple, extra "duties" repulsed Roberto as well as being Greenburg's new "favorite." He gulped and looked at Debs, who gently touched his smooth shoulder. It felt nice, kind and supportive -- reassuring. He sighed with a smile of relief until she added harshly, "You better be quick on your high heeled feet and don't flitch. Be sexy. I've had enough of stupid twatted men bungling about here. I can't teach classless buffoons. As for you, I see that you have some intelligence behind those blue bimbo Bunny eyes. Maybe, I can finally complete this con and leave. I don't want Greenburg going Hannibal on me." With his eyes widened in fear, he looked over the large open living room space with countless bright solid colored built-in couches and deep leaned back lounge chairs. Debs could seem so abrupt and mean. Then suddenly she'd smile. He imagined her slapping a guy and then switching to melting the poor bastard's heart-crushed soul. She leaned in. Roberto's heart swooned, just like any guy's would. The feel of her warm breath against his ear excited him. Every fiber of his male experience told him she wanted him - he overrode the thought. He knew it was his missing dick talking. "Listen up," her soft voice whispered - and oh, how it thrilled him so. His body tingled as if she and him together could be lovers. With the softest sweetest voice right by his ear, she said so clearly and lovingly: "Odds are so very ultra totally high that you'll be sucking cock tonight. So stay focused. Be sexy." She kissed his earlobe, stepped back, and turned to descend down two steps into the expansive lounge space. She elegantly glided her Bunny body across the floor then twisted back with a hand on her hip, the other waving him to join. "Come on, Bunny Bri. You'll serve drinks and food here this afternoon to guests. There's an event scheduled. But first I need you to spend sometime remembering how Bri did 'things.'" She did air quotes around the word "things." "Um, ah, yeah," said Roberto, still stuck on the cock thing. "I can't. I mean, I won't. You know." "If you want your body back, oh yes you can, and yes you will, my dear." She looked evilly stern. Suddenly she burst out laughing and waved the idea down. "I'm just fucking with you. Follow me. I have the perfect place for you to learn about your duties and learn some important inklings about your new self." Was she truly just "fucking" with him? People always inserted some truth in their teases. He trotted on behind her, watching her rear and obediently following like a pet. His ankles kept twisting, letting the heels leverage his feet to tilt the side, then he'd straighten them, hoping not to hear an ankle bone or ligament snap. He couldn't do this job hobbling on a crutch. Gradually, he fell behind but still managed to watch Debs's body move, so lovely to watch. The view didn't change the fact that he was so screwed. * * * * * "In ya go," said Debs. Roberto felt his body being pushed into a closet space. The two of them barely fit in together. Everything went dark when the door closed. A dim bulb clicked on above with the pull of a string hanging from a ceiling fixture. The cord swung loose and tapped across the Bunny ears above Roberto's head. Both Bunnies breathed heavily. A palpable sense that they needed to rush inside to hide kept them quiet for a moment. Roberto felt Debs breath on his face and bare shoulders. His outfit offered a lot of skin for her to exhale on as they both regrouped. He looked around. It was a janitor's closet with a floor to ceiling mirrored wall on one side. A sink held a mop with the long handle leaning into a corner. A shelf above held cleaning supplies. A wood stool in the center got in the way of their legs. "To get into Greenburg's rooms," whispered Debs, "you'll need to look - hmmm, let's say, a little more submissive." Clickity clicky. "Hey!" said Bri's ditsy voice. The blonde held up her wrists, now handcuffed. "Shit. Anything else? I need to be able to safe crack. Remember? These might be too noisy clanking around. I have to write numbers down too, you know." Debs ignored him and went on her tippy toes to reach behind bottles on the shelf above the sink. Her tail wiggled, so enchanting to watch. She returned holding a miniaturized stethoscope built with tiny rubber tubes. "Take this," she said, as she shoved it down his cleavage. Roberto looked down as Debs's hands vigorously stuffed stethoscope's smaller than normal tubes into the costume's bodice. The ear buds soon followed, buried under the cleavage. Bright pink satin held in the ample boobs, not black satin. The color change didn't make sense. Roberto felt confused. He looked up, his mind in a fog, but his pretty Bunny Bri head nodded like that side of him understood having a stethoscope. "One more thing," said Debs. "I'm going to hide an radio frequency badge in your costume - you know an RF tag. So don't loose it. You might need it later." She spun him around and unzipped the pink statin costume. A cold metal object slid down under the pantyhose, right over the tailbone. The zipper started to close. "Suck it in Bri. You know the drill by now." Roberto heard Bri's voice involuntarily plead. He hated how her emotions took over at times. Still he had to ask, "What are you doing?" He leaned against the mirrored wall and watched his sexy form get tugged at the hips to the left and to the right as the zipper jerked up in tiny sprints. He sucked in his tummy as Debs struggled to seal him into a tight satin cinch and then, finally, the costume closed. Debs fingers felt around the top of the zipper and completed the process by snapping a sideways hook and loop together. "Shh," said Debs. "Wait here. Don't make a sound." She opened the closet door revealing a partying ruckus din going on in the living room - which couldn't be true since it was morning and the place was empty just a second ago. "You'll have to stay here a while, probably a couple hours. I'll get you then." "What if someone comes here?" asked the dumbfounded fake Bunny Bri. Roberto felt the weight of the police bracelets and the rattle of the chain between them. The little hands went up before his eyes to show Debs how helpless he was. Debs glared back and closed the door. The lock clicked. It was a key lock on the inside. No knob to undo the deadbolt. There was no way out short of smashing the door down or picking the lock. So there he was. Alone. Roberto took in the appearance of his Bunny body and the ridiculous girly pink. The degrading color hurt his pride. A second ago he was the jealous envy of other Bunnies by wearing black. He didn't even get to enjoy making them fear him, as they would assume him to be Greenburg's new favorite Bunny. He could have played that angle - right up to the point Greenburg wanted sex. That would certainly fizzle out any joy right there. So, he thought, maybe pink was better after all. Being a sex object in a sexually charged mansion worried him, let alone how his costume turned pink. The handcuffs dug into Roberto's wrists. The French cuffs offered little padding. He tried to twist around to reach behind and feel the shape of the cold metal pressing against his tailbone hidden under the Bunny tail. The handcuffs made it impossible. His girly muscled limber limbs could flex, but not that way. He shook his hips. The metal didn't budge. The chill was what made it feel like metal. As it warmed against the skin under the shear pantyhose, it felt more like just a lightweight box. It became less noticeable. It disappeared under his plush bulky tail, easy to forget. But what was it really? He couldn't just skip the question and assume what Debs said to be true. He imagined himself trying to raise his rear end high enough to press his butt and cottontail up against a door's electronic badge reader. But this didn't seem to be a radio frequency badge. Metal would interfere with the radio signals. It felt more like -- he wiggled his butt - a card deck sized thingy -- maybe. A half-kilo gold bar felt this large, but that had real heft. He had stolen gold bars before. He had cracked many safes before - actually, Roberto paused. He knew he had never ever cracked a safe is his entire life. Computers were his thing. He didn't' understand the whole safe cracking stuff entering his head. Was he being used to smuggle something? He wiggled again to feel details. Nothing. Or was he being set up for a metal detector? A GPS tracker maybe? This mission had too many need to know moments. Debs kept too much to herself. She would probably tell him later that it was some James Bond safe cracking tool or a biometric counter device with someone's eyeball iris frozen in the center. Why him though? Why did the Boss choose to fuck him over? Wasn't a real woman available? He pouted like a spoiled brat teenager and sat on the stool to wait as if on stake out. He had done stake outs before. They just required finding ways to pass the time and stay awake. He raised his chained wrists and looked at his cleavage between his elbows. The suit curved high around his legs. Sitting made his hips flare out a bit. He bounced up and down a couple times watching the nylon encased flesh go from two perfect orbs to squishing just a tad wider when seated. Women's rear ends packed more volume and moved so beautifully. He bounced up and down a couple more times taking in the sensations. Sitting pretty, he crossed his legs. He clasped his fingers together and rested them on the top knee positioned above the other leg. He posed in the mirror for a portrait. Adjusting a little, he found the pantyhose allowed him to effortlessly slip and slide over the smooth wood stool's seat. He twisted around to gander at his oversized tail and the V outline of the bathing suit costume swathing his butt. A sexual warmth filled his mind, building as he watched himself in the mirror. He didn't feel the dildo pressure inside anymore. He felt less stiff, less full. The hardwood seat didn't press against the end of the inserted rod. The bucking car seat and Bruno's driving had really gotten his insides moving because of the dildo. Now sitting in a closet, he just felt a void eager to be filled, like the dildo wasn't even there. In fact, was it there anymore? Odd, since he couldn't stop thinking about the discomfort before. In the mirror, his beautiful puzzled face switched to a happier smirk. Ideas were forming, ways of passing the time. He shouldn't though. Then again, he looked into the mirror and wanted to fuck that image looking back. Maybe he should. The lush lips, the boobs, the long limbs; it seduced him. He lifted a leg and pressed the sole of its high heel against the mirrored glass. The shoe was green now, not pink. The costume's color now matched the green shoe too. The pink had changed. Green ears curled in an honorable bow towards the mirror. The Bunny felt so sexed up. Abandoning the color confusion, the long fingernails slid gently over the costume across the encased breasts. The hands, paired together in police cuffs, accented with white French cuffs, slowly stroked the fascinating nylons. Each Bunny wore two layers of tights. The shear layers cooled as their tiny fibers shifted. A pair of skin color tights hid under an outer layer of dark smoky colored tights. Why two though? He didn't know. It felt good and racy with the cooling fibers making Moir? patterns as they slid over each other. The fingertips glided over the ankles, the calves, the thighs, the inner thighs. Now he raised the other leg up and slapped its heel against the glass wall. He watched his splayed legs aimed at a Bunny's reflection. It felt like someone else there, not him but a her looking back from the mirror - a her he wanted to play with. He touched right along the strip of green satin running between the dark silk clad legs. The womanly muscles flexed inside his body with a throbbing twitch. More buried pulses followed. Bri's body wanted some attention and he wanted to give it to her so badly. A tiny pouch filled with lock picks clicked about inside his cleavage. How he knew that it existed he didn't know. But the miniature stethoscope rubber tubes had disappeared. Abruptly, the lock picks became a Swiss Army knife pinching between his boobs. The corkscrew with its exposed point was not a good option. He was a red satin Bunny now, not pink, not green. Still, he wanted to fuck himself. Forget the bewildering changes flashing by. As he touched himself, a series of tools and colored costumes kept alternating in his mind. He was back to pink with a stethoscope. Green with lock picks. Then red again with a pocketknife. His fingers rubbed along the narrow strip of the costume's crotch. So slowly the index finger moved. Come on, thought Roberto. Go faster. But the Bunny's body didn't answer. Move! Faster! More! But the fingers did their thing as if he were mute. He hated being in the back seat. The screams to diddle himself with less dramatic flare remained unanswered. The body had its own pace. He thought of Bri's lesbian porno film. He thought of Bri putting on panties and other sexy memories, that to the original woman had just been day-to-day actions. To him they could fulfill his fantasies forever, so endless and so absorbing. He remembered Bri's desires to always be a Playboy Bunny. The more he touched himself, the more he agreed. Yes, being a Bunny couldn't be better. More memories flooded around him. How she trained to serve drinks. How she sat naked on her bed at home reading the bar tending manual. So many varieties and names had to be remembered. It seemed so confusing for a silly blonde girl from nowhere, but she would learn it. She swore to it, no matter how hard the task. She rolled over and wrote out flashcards on 3x5 lined notecards. She studied for endless hours while listening to a large radio in an oak case she had gotten off a junk pile on 5th Avenue. It only needed a new electric tube thingy and it worked just fine. With a smile, she got a guy to give her the replacement part for free. She rolled over in her bed, looking at a flashcard for a Cuban drink, not knowing how to say the name: "Mow-gee-toe?" She loved thinking how she'd leave her current sparse pad for a lavish bitchin suite off Central Park - when she made Bunny tips that is. Bunnies could make oodles on tips - and supposedly, they didn't have to hook! "Yeah!" Bri giggled and hugged herself to sleep. A glimpse of Bunny life passed through Roberto's mind. Men pinched and leered and groped. The guys pushed the envelope, trying to avoid being bounced out of the club but still wanting to touch a Bunny. They loved snatching her tail as she passed by. She'd have to turn and grab it back. Roberto's eyes flew open, the Bunny fingering herself through the costume stared back at him. He was about to climax. The costume's color switched: pink satin, red satin, green satin. The leg positions moved from splayed with feet up against the glass to instantly being feet down with knees wide, to suddenly being positioned in a more demur shy seated pose with hands timidly stuffed into the lap in shame, fingers still slowly moving to a sexual build. Poses changed, colors changed, but the sexual gaze remained constant. Multiple Bunnies had been in this room. And Roberto didn't care. It would be his first female orgasm and it felt good. He had to continue. He could see a wet spot in the pantyhose around the crotch. He would get into so much trouble now. He would have to change his tights and clean his costume, but he couldn't stop. He envied that Bunny in the mirror. Night after night, she pranced about in a degrading outfit lovely it all. Bri felt so proud to wear it. If she could, she would wear nothing else. "Ahh!" he yelled and then muffled himself. His high heels kicked against the glass. The Bri body pulsed inside, again and again. The stress from the Boss, from Debs, it all required some release. And here it was coming slow and sure, making the tiny room feel steamy and muggy. What the Boss had done was despicable. But now everything felt good. Anything could be forgiven. The blonde Bunny in the mirror rolled her head slowly. Mmmm. Hard spasms hit. The ears fell off as she violently shook her head. She calmed and relaxed until extra spasms hit once more. How many after shocks did this body experience? She was so sexy and now Roberto knew how a woman felt on the other side of the equation. He wondered what a real hard fucking would be like. What did it take to satisfy the need to be filled? Then he realized the thought he just had. He felt disgusted with himself. Then another fading wave of bliss calmed him and returned the world to a nice settling radiant landing. Roberto jolted and dropped a tray to the floor. He stood there in an office. Debs sat near him at a table. She had been roleplaying as a typical Playboy Bunny Club guest to teach Roberto his Bunny tasks and needed skills. Debs stood and gave him a harsh slap. "Focus, bitch." "I am," said Roberto, trying to understand what had just happened. "No. You're day dreaming again." "I'm just remembering some things Bri did," protested Roberto. He paused. He stood in the middle of a small office, not a janitor's closet. No mirror in site. No more lovely diddling in a small room alone. The real world around him presented a desk covered in papers topped with a computer keyboard and display. A schedule board on the wall listed Bunny names and their assigned shifts. Bri was listed for the afternoon and then a stint at night. The whole closet episode had been memories. Or he dreamt it. Or he fantasied it all. He hunched down to fetch the tray. "Sorry. I'm losing it, but, but, I'll get myself together. I can do it." It had to be a memory, but not from Bri. The memories were from a guy exploring his female body. Shit. It was from Sam. But the satin colors changed. Each Bunny in that room seemed different. One was ashamed of himself for the whole situation, but still couldn't stop pressing his hands down into his female lap. Another just leaned back so comfortably, shoes against the glass. Oh no. How many other guys had there been? "You better focus and quick, little girl," Debs huffed. "If you had been carrying real drinks, you'd be picking up a big mess right now. Lucky for you, you didn't spill anything on me." She slid her hands up and down her blue Bunny costume to double check - then she remembered no liquids had been poured yet. "Now try the dip again and this time make it lady like." The blue Bunny demonstrated a backward lean and curtsey. She shrugged like it was easy. With the memories flooding in, Roberto easily stood on stilettos, smiled, and arched back while bending at the knees. He picked up some empty martini glasses, loaded his cocktail tray, walked across the room, and returned. Sam's ethereal voice kept filling his mind, like Obi Wan Kenobi to Luke Skywalker: "Whoever follows me in this con, don't climax. You'll loose your mind. Don't orgasm." "Great," praised Debs. "Now don't just stand there. What? You want a cookie?" Roberto heard the ominous Obi Wan voice fade. Debs ordered, "Do it again and tell me what's in a Manhattan." As Roberto rehearsed, setting an empty drink glass down, he remembered Sam. The guy didn't crack safes or pick locks. He smuggled things. He built hiding places. He bought forged passports and traveled. Given the tools stuffing the green and the pink costumes, maybe Sam wore the red bodice. A pocketknife certainly didn't seem that useful though. Roberto tried to remember the red Bunny. The bright crimson color became a key to a mental search through the transferred thoughts. He heard his ditsy Bri voice rattling off to Debs an answer for the recipe of a Long Island Ice Tea, not a Manhattan. He watched his body walk across the room. He imagined the black statin to be red. He needed to see that Bunny's memories, assuming it was Sam The Smuggler. Far off in the distance, Debs yelled at him about drink names. Roberto's mind fogged as a past event hit like real life. Bri's body ran down a long hallway of cinderblock walls. It was Sam inside. He was desperate to get away, determined that the next guy to become Bunny Bri wouldn't fall into the same trap. He knew he couldn't escape. He gave himself up for lost. He only had time enough to do one thing: end the curse. Mental clarity came only briefly and he repeated a mantra that he hoped would never be heard. It would be a memory for the next dumb shmuck. The breathing became wild and panicked. With scissors in hand, Bunny Bri stopped just long enough to frantically cut her white French cuffs off. Roberto felt his heart pounding now, matching Bunny Bri's, and matching Sam's. All three of them became one. Cufflinks hit the floor and rattled into the corners. Sam's thoughts came back. He paused and leaned backward against a wall, thinking the same phrase again and again: "Don't orgasm." It wasn't a warning that Sam gave to himself. His running and panic quashed any notions of sexual joy. He wasn't capable of getting off into an orgasmic bliss. "Don't orgasm!" Sam thought again. He said it to himself multiple times. He wanted it to mentally stick, a cerebral message in a bottle. Bunny Bri's mind and body would hopefully hold that message. Guards yelled: "The bitch isn't here." Doors opened and slammed. The banging echoed through the maze of service hallways. Sam ran, following the steam pipes lining the ceiling. He hoped they would head towards a service room, maybe a door to the outside world. So far, the sparse hallway offered no hiding places. "Find her now!" yelled Debs. Sam took off a red high heel pump and broke off its stiletto. He wanted to do the same to the other shoe too, but the guards closed in. He limped in an awkward run, unable to kick the other shoe off. He had to run. He need more time. Roberto noted the red costume. So who was green? Who was pink? Sam's thoughts yelled: beware the costumes! He stopped at the sound of approaching footsteps. He waited and heard a guard enter another room around a corner, search it, and yell, "Clear!" Sam ripped off the Bunny tail, threw it to the floor and dropped down on his nylon covered knees. He began stabbing the stolen scissors into the fur ball. White stuffing flew free. Some soft bits lofted high up into the air like dandelion seeds. He took off his Bunny ears and cut both lobes off. Then he cracked the plastic headband inside the red statin wrapper. He unzipped the back of his red Bunny suit, sat on his rear and began yanking the costume down his dark tights. He had forgotten to undo the hip laces. It jammed him up. Footsteps pounded against the cement floor. The noise grew louder. Sam realized he had no time to take off the outfit. He stopped with the bra cups pulled down to his tummy, the bodice hobbling his thighs. Cutting into the stain with the scissors, he ripped and tore at the bodice. He scratched the "Bri" nametag, plucked its ribbons off, and with his hands he ripped at the satin bodice where his fingers could reach into the scissor gashes to find good holds to grab and rip the costume to shreds. "The bitch is ruining the costume!" screamed Debs. "I'm not a bitch!" yelled back Sam as two guards tackled him and flattened his bare chested body to the floor. They pulled his wrists behind and secured him with plastic ratchet ties. They turned him over, lifted him off his feet and presented him to the head Bunny. His bosom aimed at the enemy's glaring face. He kept kicking his bare stocking feet in the air. He knew it was over. Still he fought. Debs pinched Roberto's face hard. Instantly, the hallway was gone. Roberto's mind returned to Debs's office. She smiled at him. "You're getting good at being a Bunny. I'm surprised -- not that you would learn fast. As I said when you got here, I saw some intellect behind those eyes. I am confused how you're actually daydreaming so much - a regular Walter Mitty." "I'm sorry, Bunny Debs." Roberto looked down in shame. He hated his submissive stance. "No. No. You're getting Bri's memories aren't you? They're flooding in. I didn't think that would happen. The kiss must be more effective than I thought. The Boss did make you kiss right?" The blonde Bunny nodded. Debs gleefully smiled and stroked the blonde's face so kindly and lovingly. "You felt Bri enter your mind. Huh? How did it feel having a women inside you for a change?" Her tone became more vindictive. "Did you like getting your biggest void, the one in your head, filled? Oh wait, you're supposed to be a smart one. A hacker. Yet here you are. A Bunny. A woman. Your dick and balls taken away." Trying to get passed his building anger, he said, "Yes. I got some of Bri's memories." "Oh, I think there's more of her inside you than you think, sweetie. Ideas. Memories." "Yes. Sometimes very sexual ones - mostly sexual actually." He didn't want to mention that he was also getting Sam's thoughts. He also didn't like being treated this way. Anger raged under his calm unsettled smile. He had to take it. He thought: Come on. Dish it out! I can take it! But could he? The belittling ways Debs addressed him cut deep. "That's good. You guys always go for the sex. Pigs, all of you. At least you won't have to fake anything. You'll just use her skills -- and no one will suspect you." "That scares me." "Just do your job quickly and you can be you again. It will all come back. I've seen it." "But the Boss couldn't turn Sam back. And Frank too. The medallion didn't work." "Well, they made mistakes. They fought the memories. A woman's mind takes over if you dare it to. So just relax. Be Bunny Bri and she'll be bored and less motivated to go all bitchy and conquer your mind. She was very strong willed, you know." "Why was Frank made to look like you?" "That was a failed decoy. I didn't think he'd lose his mind and insist he was me. Useless. How about this? During your dinner break, have a little sexual romp with a Bunny. Relax. You're in a black satin costume. Take advantage of it. Choose a Bunny any Bunny. She'll do want ever you want. Only Greenburg's favorite of the week wears black. The others will fear you. Personally, I wished the Boss had given you a more typical rainbow color." Roberto didn't buy the decoy explanation. He'd have to find out more from someone else. "What does being a favorite entail?" Debs kissed Roberto on the forehead, another intentional alpha technique to subtly suggest dominance. Her lips touched with the lightest glance. Holding her hands behind his neck, resting her wrists on his bare shoulders, she added, "Chose any Bunny you want. Except for me. I'll break your arms." She let go. Her tone became all business. "Now, there's a meeting in an hour. Greenburg's business associates and fellow scumbags of the earth, little pathetic shits, are arriving. You greet the men at the front door. Hand their coats to the cloakroom Bunny. Simple. Just please look like you're confident. Pretend to be a Bunny worthy of a black costume. I'm stuck with you as such, so try to play the part. Be Bri. She was very professional." Debs turned him towards the door and patted his butt. "Off with you." Roberto minced his steps and then gained a stable gait. He turned back when he reached the doorway. "But the job. The computer." "Trust me. I'll get you into the inner sanctum soon enough. It might take a day or two. Greenburg is very careful. His computer is air gapped. There's no other way." She smiled. Undeniably, she was up to something. Leaving to navigate the penthouse maze, Roberto felt more like a lab mouse than a Bunny. Somewhere, there was a front door with guests about to arrive and he wanted to run through the passage and take the elevator. Freedom! Escape! Silly thoughts. He knew he wouldn't get far. The Boss would eventually hunt him down and put a bullet into his pretty blonde head. Besides, he couldn't imagine living the rest of his life as woman. In the back of Roberto's mind, he heard Sam's last thought as the guards carried him off in a ripped up red Bunny costume: "Don't let Debs make you masturbate! You'll regret it, whoever you are. I know someone's going to be next. The Boss is going to need a replacement, and it's you, you poor fucked-up bastard." Roberto could see through Sam's Bri-borrowed eyes. The Bunny in the torn outfit got dragged off kicking and screaming. The guards got tired of the struggling woman. They slammed Sam's body against the floor. A butt of a gun rose up and came down hard. Everything went black. From that point on, the transferred thoughts stopped from Sam. There was only the dumb Bri at the funeral home, polishing her nails, chewing her gum, mocking Roberto the hacker. Then they kissed. Her memories stopped too. Past thoughts somehow dumped into his head. What had they done to Sam to erase him like that? No more memories existed from his former associate once the guards knocked him out. Roberto vowed to keep Bri's transferred mind under control. He would resist any Bri memories, even the porn with lovely lesbians prancing about. No orgasms for himself. He paused in the foyer and leaned against a statue of Venus. Her marble face aimed up, sucking off Jupiter's lighting bolt. It reminded him of his dildo pushed deep inside, filling his female void so wonderfully. The computer stick compressed interior areas as he trotted about in heels. The pressure kept him at a sexual level he so badly wanted to relieve. His logical mind had to suppress it. He whispered to himself as he continued to start his mission, "Hurry up you idiot. I can't hold this back much longer."