The Bunny Breach (Part 5) free porn video

Title: The Bunny Breach (Part 5) Author: Cupertino Abstract: Being an expert computer hacker sent undercover as a Playboy Bunny to break into a mobster's air-gapped data center, Roberto must now cope with the possibility of losing his mind to memories of a blonde porno star, and retrieving his exploit software hidden in a computerized dildo taken away by a nymphomaniac co-worker. CAST Roberto - Our hapless hero turned heroine, costumed as a Playboy Bunny. He kissed Bri while holding a medallion and magically inherited memories chaining a series of transformed people he never wanted to know. Bunny Bri - The woman, whoever she was or is, that Roberto now looks like. The Boss - The owner of the medallion. He killed two people right in front of Roberto's big beautiful eyes. Greenburg - A vicious criminal with a multilevel penthouse where he rules a criminal empire while living out sexual fantasies surrounded by gorgeous women costumed as Playboy Bunnies, showgirls, and other whims of the moment, but mostly Bunnies - lots of Bunnies. Bunny Debs - A sexy brunette femme fatale and insider working with the Boss. She's the den mother in charge who seems to be running out of accomplices, as new recruits like Roberto keep mentally melting into ditsy Bunny Bri's. Yaps - One of Roberto's supposed friends, who now finds Bri irresistible. Bruno - The other supposed friend, but he too tricked Roberto. Sam the Smuggler - A previous unfortunate bastard also medallioned into being Bunny Bri. The Boss incinerated him in a coffin with... Frank the Forger - A medallioned version of Debs, who became certain he was the original woman, no longer Frank. Dead now, he spent his brief time as Debs certain he was a seamstress, tailoring Roberto's brand new black satin Bunny outfit, which Roberto now looks really good in. Oh yeah, Frank's dead. Bunny Tuppence - A sexually charged brown haired babe dressed in a purple satin Playboy Bunny costume. She holds an ancient broken half of a coin that can make Roberto into half a man. Where she hid or lost the other half? It's unknown. But now she happily has Roberto's computer dildo buzzing away inside her. PART 5 Every step pulled tape that ripped against the most sensitive skin for a woman's body. But still, Roberto managed a dignified stance at the entrance of the dressing room, forcing his best smile from inside a his female form, dressed as a bedraggled black satin Playboy Bunny, cum stains showing on his pantyhose around his crotch. The smile was hard to hold. "You've been naughty," said a cockney Bunny donning a British flagged version of the famous satin costume. Smaller Union Jacks patterned her Bunny ears. Red and white Union Jack diagonals crossed her body, hugging her bosom like beauty queen sashes. She slipped by Roberto at the narrow door to the dressing room. "Yeah, I was, um, naughty," squeaked Roberto with an exhausted nod. He pressed a bare shoulder against the doorframe, hesitating to take one more step. The tape inside his body, where his missing manhood used to find a firm foundation to launch from, didn't just sting if it pulled free. Worse yet, the adhesive seemed to reattach to even more sensitive skin, reloading and cocking back a hammer for pain to release on the next stride. Tuppence had chosen a horrifically cruel adhesive tape to keep her unsuspecting male victims under control after sex. There was no way a guy in a woman's body, rolling on the floor in agony, who's manhood just disappeared into a hole taking tape with it, could accost her for her precious magic coin. She had developed a perfect tape trap for treacherous men. With a slight shift of weight from one high heel to the other, tape peeled and tortured him again. He wanted to press his fingers, and their bright red painted nails, against his crotch. It took perseverance to hold back from the un-Bunny-like action. As some Bunnies donned their costumes, he snuck in a quickie slide of a hand over the area. He felt the wetness in the tights. He looked down at the drying white stains, fortunately only ruining the tights and not on the black satin of the costume. The bodice looked clean. He raised his head fast. His Bunny ears bounced on his disintegrating blonde bouffant hairdo. No one seemed to notice him. Why would they care? They were gorgeous women, not guys. Or were they? Now he was getting paranoid - or was he? Tuppence pushed him into the room. "Ouch, ouch, ouch,..." said Roberto in fast series of excruciating strides. "We have to hurry," said Tuppence, hiding behind a rack of wild costumes of fluff and feathers, while wearing her more conservative and elegant purple Bunny suit. A selection of mermaid tails and hoop skirts required a tall rack to not drag on the floor. The colorful high hanging assortment left only her purple satin ears reaching high enough to be seen from the mosh pit of outfits. "Oh! Looky!" she peeped, periscoping a hand up from the rack of Slutoween outfits. She pointed to a wall. "The white board's got the lunch meeting delayed for a half hour. Good for us." Roberto stood clueless. The whiteboard presented a barrage of women's names, room assignments, floor numbers, and events. The lunch period had been crossed out and rewritten. "There's a furry folly on level 12?" questioned Roberto. "We're on 28! I thought Greenburg only owned the top four floors." Looking at another scribble, he added, "Who's getting a BJ in the garage in twenty minutes? G5?" "Shush. Just be glad we got some more time. But I wonder why?" Her head peered out between costumes. "Get ready." She looked at Roberto's messed up hair and make-up and waved her hands about. "Well, hurry, girl! You're a mess!" Roberto reached behind his back and struggled to feel for the zipper. Bri's body was flexible, but knowing instinctively where to reach proved hard to learn. His upper arms bumped his boobs. His height made him look up at everyone. Still she was a hottie. He could take pride in that. Little things were annoying though. His shorter stature made even grabbing a doorknob all wrong. He now had to raise his hand so much higher, when before his hand just opened the door on autopilot. So much is learned and turned into habit during life, like what level things are at. Trying to grab his back zipper, he turned a few times in place and finally got a hold of the fastener's tab. He had forgotten that a sideways hook blocked it. That took two hands to undo. While unzipping, he felt relief from the costume being undone. Even as flat and naturally hourglass in shape as any woman could possibly be, his body found the outfit's grip cruel. Opening the bodice, his body now relaxed as pressure against his flat perfect bikini abs subsided. A pile of towels lured him closer to a sink and gave him ideas. He could wash, wipe down, and then change. He wanted to get his own cum off and the scent. It was his own, but then again, he actually hammered Tuppence with a manhood from some other guy, Tuppence's coin's manhood. It amazed him that he had just fucked a Playboy Bunny in a cloak closet with some other guy's dick and while still having boobs. For half an hour he had been half a man, yet never so perfect a pornographic king over his queen. He proudly nailed Tuppence good, right against he wall. The experience would last his whole life. Switching back to reality, he peeled off the bodice. This mission had gone completely insane. "Oooo," he said in a happy Bri voice on seeing an open drawer loaded with new pantyhose packets. It actually made him giddy - until he realized he had just gotten excited over wearing new hosiery. Wrapping himself in a warm towel, he needed to pull his stained tights off, both layers, then cleanup, and secretly pull some tape off. He couldn't afford to make any of his "co-workers" suspicious. He had to be quick. If Bunny Debs found out, she might have him killed. "Are you almost done?" asked Tuppence from behind the rack. "The tape - oh gees. It hurts." He covered his mouth. Had he been too loud? He tugged a strand of medical tape free that would have shown from under the narrow crotch strap of his Bunny Bri black satins. "Get dressed. You'll just have to suffer a bit longer. I hope you forgive me for the tape. A girl's gott'a look out for herself, you know." "Sure, Tup. I mean, I guess I'd make certain to protect myself too. It was effective. I confess, I did wonder if I could steal the - you know." He thought of the stone that hid her magic coin. "It was unprofessional of me. I'm not liking myself today. I should have been more focused. Driven. I need to get back home, back to the real me. You know, for obvious reason." The voice from behind the rack added, "I can't help you on the tape. Too many people might see. It'd look like I was your gynecologist getting up into your business." He reached down between his legs, under the towel. "I got this. Just a sec." He tried to pull more out of his body - and very carefully. "Geese, it hurts. Maybe I don't have time." "No, you certainly don't," said Tuppence, banging about, her elbows hitting the wall as she changed. The tape around the center target of his missing cock and balls peeled away bit by bit, but so much more remained inside. It hurt. The tape that had been sucked deep into his female form. That scared Roberto. He gave up and left it in place, despite the agony he knew to be signing up for. Every step that day was going to hurt. Over by a wall, make-up stations with lit mirrors and countertops looked like a marquee minus the movie titles. A series of padded stools lined up as if ready for New Jersey diner customers. Claiming the middle stations, two ballerinas in feathered tutus costumed for opposing parts in Swan Lake, black versus white, commiserated. Their skirts radiated out like ceiling fan blades. Layers of tutu feathers stayed perfectly stiff and perpendicular to their torsos. The black swan sobbed. The white swan sat, hands up at eye level in a confused surrender as if at gunpoint. Her left eye madly fluttered and the other stayed glued shut. She had exaggeratedly long false lashes that Roberto could see from across the room. The eyelashes on the open eye batted about like a butterfly. Roberto wondered if she had used too much glue. He nodded, knowing it happens. Then he wondered how he knew that. In disgust, he plopped down naked on a padded stool right by the girls and began pulling up the first of two new replacement tights. At least some new hosiery would make him happy - that is until he realized the unmanly fact that it actually did. The first pair of nylons was skin colored, shear, and so delicate. Bunnies wore two layers. Roberto didn't know why, but he followed the standard procedure. He knew it in his heart so well, like a veteran Bunny would. Not a good mental indicator for him, he thought. He noticed that the shear nylon wouldn't hide the fact that the computerized dildo and its exposed bright white button was clearly missing. The white button had been pretty noticeable. He couldn't let Debs find out that Bunny Tuppence had taken his dildo. Raising his hand, he almost yelled out to the Bunny, but then thought better not to. How do you discreetly ask, "Can I have my dildo back?" Especially with ballerinas present. Continuing to gently advance the nylons up his legs, he lifted his rear enough to get the stretchy silk under, up and over his hips. The waistband snapped into place. Looking over at the ballet show, he noticed the white swan had cum all over chest, shoulders and face. Strands of stretched dried plaster cum left her eyes squinting. She had tried to figure out how to clean herself. The eyelashes held on to the cum like the tape held deep inside Roberto. He could relate to the poor thing. "I didn't go to Julliard to take it in the ass," said the Black Swan to her partner. "Not like this. And then to be forced to spoon motionless with the guy all night. Ew. He's not that handsome. I thought he'd make us leave. Send us off. Don't guys want to skip the spooning part? Like totally seriously. My arm was getting numb. I was afraid to move as he snored. Did you see the gun under his pillow? I didn't want to get shot in the head if I woke him up." She sobbed. "I have to go on stage tonight. It hurts to walk." The White Swan huffed. The Black Swan scoffed. "You didn't have him ruining you." "I had it worse. I had to complete the hat trick. After he stuck himself inside you and then into your bum, I had to swallow him." "I gave myself an enema. I was clean." Whitie's jaw dropped. "Fuck off. It's all in my sinuses now. I thought hat tricks started orally and then went nasty. Not the other way around." Debs entered. The blue statin Bunny glared at Roberto. "Bri, you're supposed to be up front." "Um. I kind'a had a wardrobe malfunction." He finished donning the black tights over the skin colored tights. He squeezed his legs together to hide any view of his missing dildo electric shock button of death. The wide thigh gap Bri's body offered the world and leering men didn't help, so he put a hand over his flat crotch before quickly grabbing his black satin shell to step into. As he hunched over to plop his double-D tits into the cups, Debs leaned in and whispered, "Did you diddle yourself?" She stood back and raised her voice. "Oh come on! You couldn't hold off for an hour?" Roberto nodded in shame. Some passing Bunnies, leaving a locker room through the dressing area, overheard and giggled. Debs turned to the swans, but continued to dictate to Roberto, who stood there ashamed and scared in a blondie Bunny Bri body. Debs didn't hold back. "Hurry, you twat. And get up front. Lucky for you the ballet here kept Greenburg busy. The schedule's been pushed. Plus his guests are usually an hour late anyway." She gestured at him with furious hands to hurry. Roberto sucked in his tummy and tried to zip up. He hopped in place a few times. It didn't help. Hunching down to eye level with the ballerinas, Debs consoled the girls with two large stacks of money. "Here's 25K for each of you. Greenburg loved it. He's never done the leads of a major ballet before, let alone the Met. I love it when he's happy. Maybe I'll find him some opera stars next time." She paused. "Are they all fat? Hm. Maybe he'd like that too. I don't think he's a chubby chaser." "We had to stay still all night," complained the black swan. Her fingers fanned the money. A tiny smile formed. "Yeah. As if we liked it," said the white swan, struggling with wads of tissues in one hand to wipe her eyelashes clean and the other hand holding her two-inch stack of cash. She stopped dabbing her eyes to feel the weight of the loot. "We pretended to fall asleep in a wonderful after glow," said the black swan. Her face showed the pain in her rear end. "There was no after glow. And look, it dried in my eyes," said Whitie. "Girls," said Debs, "you did great." She pointed to the thick money bricks, adding a loving hand stroke to each girl's face. "Happy?" The girls nodded. "Good," said Debs. "You've been well compensated. Now, if you want to make another 10k each, would you be willing to come back sometime?" The two girls paused their din of grievances. They looked at each other, then at Debs, then at the bricks of money in their hands. White Swan shrugged, slowly nodding. Blackie started to go along, then asked, "But why less than half?" "Well. You're not so special anymore. He's already done the Met's leads now. But if you dress as Cirque Du Soleil stars and show your amazing flexibility, well - I'm thinking naked body paint and a feline theme -- with that, I'm sure I could get you back here for 10K each. You'd have to lie about who you are, that your new, and not get caught. That'd be part of the thrill. Unless he kills you. But if you two also did opera, then hell 25K would be easy. But Cirque Du Soleil isn't worth that level. The best I can get you is 10K." The girls cringed. "Cats?" muttered one. Their shell shocked little minds mulled it over. They capitulated. "Perfect," said Debs. Roberto watched the drama while he fixed his hair in the mirror. He had given up memories of his very first blowjob so he could get Bri's hairstyling abilities. Now her hands rapidly plucked, combed, and pinned up her blonde hair into a perfect bouffant. He felt like a spectator. The Bunny ears followed. As the dainty hands in the mirror danced about the flaxen trusses, the problem was that they weren't Bri's sexy hands being so skillful. They were Roberto's transformed hands and he wanted his first blowjob memories back, plus his body. He had no interest in retaining hairstyling skills. He struggled to remember Jill or Jenny or whatever her name was that gave him head, maybe back in high school. He wasn't certain. It irked him that he couldn't even remember when it happened. He couldn't remember the joy. He wondered if it the sex was actually any good. Maybe it went badly and he had thrown it overboard as an easy sacrifice. He hoped that was true, but he just didn't know. He looked into his beautiful eyes and considered how even a bad blowjob could be pretty good. Unless the girl's teeth got involved. Why did women always think a guy's junk was a chew toy? Debs hunched down to the seated swans again to present a tray with two matching paper cups of colorful pills. "Now that I see you two with happier mindsets and all is agreed for another gig here, these will roofie your memories away so you can't identify anyone." The two fretting girls both took a Dixie cup off the serving tray. "Do we really need to do this?" asked Whitie. She looked behind Debs at one of her large male bodyguard goons dressed menacingly in black military gear. The gun belt convinced the White Swan. She knew her answer. "I want to forget all this," said the Black Swan, tossing the pills into the back of her throat and scoffing water. She coughed and gasped. "Oh man! That was Vodka!" Whitie followed, sipping the drink more carefully. "Good girls," said Debs in her typical condescending tone. She looked at the second hand of the wall clock. "Just give it a few more seconds." Ticks swept around the clock. Roberto looked at his make-up wiped off on a towelette. Lipstick and foundation smeared the white rag like a painter's palette. He didn't know how to restore the look. Shit. He knew in his gut that the medallion would take another juicy sacrifice from his personal memoirs. He searched Bri's memory for make-up hoping he could just snatch some basic techniques and not surrender more of his life events to the medallion. Another of Bri's escort gigs popped into his head. He tensed. What memory of his would this replace? He had no choice. He looked into Bri's thoughts and how she prepared for that date and her make-up regime. Suddenly his hands started to move quickly, applying little dabs of things from tiny bottles and palettes. He slowly started to know the mascara, the eyeliner, the foundation, and the blush. It wasn't difficult at all. He just did it. And he loved how the businessman on the second escort date complimented the dress and the make-up. The guy made Bri twirl in place a few times. She felt so happy and appreciated, not ignored. In short, a few compliments and she was easy. Then before Roberto knew it, the memory had his Bri body pushed down into a king-sized bed. The businessman tugged her skintight skirt up over her rear. Roberto looked at the black swan. Now he knew the association for the memory and it was about to hit hard. The businessman lifted Bri's ass up in the air and thrusted, totally black-swanning the gorgeous derri?re. In the memory, Bri screamed and then felt a thrill being so ruthlessly violated. Roberto clenched a lipstick tube and tightened his butt cheeks. His tail wiggled. With his luck this memory would never go away. A red lipstick mark stroked across his face. Shit! He'd have to start all over. Clearly, the medallion had more than one way to enjoy itself. Debs stopped looking at the clock. "There we are." She stroked the faces of the dancers. "You're both nice and relaxed and agreeable to ideas and opportunities. That's the mindset I want locked into you're little heads." She took the bricks of money out of their meek hands and placed the chucks of cash back on her drink tray. "Now that's done, we move on." She rose from her haunches. "You'll wake up without a single memory of last night or this morning. You'll think you just arrived here from that party we met at; the one where you two started to feel a little too adventurous for your own good. God, I love it when people are stupid." "But tonight's show!" panicked Blackie. "Fuck the dance," said Whitie, trying to breath. "Why are you talking to us like this?" "Tisk tisk," said Debs, "Do not worry you're silly little heads about the performance. I already arranged for your understudies to cover for you both. You won't lose your jobs staying here a few more days - that is if you behave. I have lots of customers." "You mean work as cats?" mumbled White Swan. The pills were kicking in hard. She shook her head to understand her predicament. "No," said Debs, "Not just feline sex pets. I'm going to Ground Hog Day you two all week, maybe longer. "The producer's a customer and he owes me. He'll take you back. Deep inside your little heads, I want your worries to be about how you two could lose your positions in the dance troop. The roofies don't erase everything, so chose to keep that one motivation in mind as you start a very confusing few days here. I have so many customer fantasies to fulfill. So many politicians need head. They're very corrupt." Debs lifted the money tray high over her Bunny ears. "And as agreed, it's Cirque Du Soleil body painted cats for you two when you wake up. Then, maybe elf costumes. Oh, also robots. Your tight dancer bodies will fit in nicely into our chrome outfits." Debs clearly relished telling the girls their fates. The look of terror on their faces blurred into a dazed drugged state. They knew they had been had. Their sluggish thinking showed them forming conclusions. They would never see the money. The drugs would lock into their minds the brief moment of happiness from holding their earned cash. The loot would probably be in their dreams, reassuring them the next day. Missing from their minds would be Debs's flowing recital of how they would become sex slaves. Their eyes widened as their drugged minds slowly realized the betrayal and then started quickly to forget it all. Whitie fought her dizzy fog. She protested. "Um, that's my money." Debs nodded to her goons and answered the girls' perplexed looks. She bowed and plucked a tiny hair from each of their heads - at least that's what it looked like at first. "Ouch," they each chirped. Roberto had stepped away, but now he discreetly leaned in and studied the girls. Debs hadn't plucked a hair from both dancers - no, she tapped in tiny needles. Acupuncture needles. With a slight of hand of a magician, Debs had stuck an almost invisible needle into the center forehead of both dancers. She stood back, proud of her work. One-inch darts protruded from each swan's brow. "When you wake, you'll still think it's your day off, like you did so this morning." The girls nodded obediently. "You'll think it's still the first time you agreed to be adventurous for 25K each." "That's not fair!" said Blackie in burst of resistance, as she slid off the padded stool to the floor with a thud. "This was supposed to be a one time thing. Give me my money or I'll..." Debs shrugged. "Life is not blah blah blah. We'll have this conversation again later. You'll be refreshed and ready to relive it all, wanting your precious money. I'll then lock that giddy mindset into your cute heads, rinse and repeat. Every night some more sex acts." She gazed off introspecting the situation. "I once had three Rockettes here ten nights in a row before they realized it. The roofies aren't 100 percent. I think I can get a few nights out of you two, before you're resistant and all belligerent. I'll admit, you two are kind'a bitchy already." Debs turned to Roberto, standing a distance off by the costumes. He didn't want her thinking he saw anything odd - aside from the enslavement, extortion slash blackmail. "Count yourself lucky," she said. "Part of Greenburg's favorite fantasies is to destroy women's lives, especially successful professionals like these two. They'll probably never dance again - without a pole." A thud from the second ballerina hitting the floor got Roberto's attention. They both passed out completely a second later. "The thing that bothers me most," said Roberto, "is that I think you like doing this." A guard's body language threatened Roberto for speaking so freely. Debs gestured, no. "I used to be straight laced, all by the book. I'm getting revenge now and control of my destiny. So do your job." Her eyes glanced at the swans. "Or else." Scared and timid, Bri's cowardly naive instinct ripped apart Roberto's resolve. He watched Debs leave. The goons dragged the girls out flat across the floor. The half radiating circle of their skirts, not crushed under their dancer bodies, jetted up like expanded handheld fans or like wagon wheel coins broken in half. He snapped on his Bunny tail, fixed his cufflinks, and remembered Tuppence and her coin: the magic half coin. She still had his computer dildo inside her! Biting his lower lip as the tape pulled and tugged inside him, he frantically clicked clacked around checking behind the racks of costumes and then into a locker room. The woman with the half coin had disappeared. The adjacent locker room echoed with his heels. Empty. No one. Across the way, one metal locker door had been left open. A purple satin costume hung inside. Getting closer, Roberto saw a rolled up paper note wrapped in the costume's left side hip laces. He read a scribbled name: "Bri." Pulling the wadded paper free, Roberto scanned a couple lines of fancy cursive script: "You might find this costume useful for later. Just say'in. With deepest love and regrets - Tuppence." He didn't know what that meant. He had hoped they'd have sex again. Shit! She had his dildo! "Get up to the front door you masturbating over sexed rabbit," said Debs in passing. "Yes, Ma'am," said Roberto, hiding the note and positioning himself between her and the purple satin bodice, hoping to conceal it. Debs ordered her goons about and finally left as Roberto delayed his departure by pretending to fidget about with his costume. Finally alone in the locker room, Roberto could observe the two goons in the other room putting the two unconscious ballerinas into black plastic body bags. The forehead needles rested flat, as the bags zipped closed over their faces. He hoped Debs hadn't done them in. He conjectured that the pills did nothing but fog their heads long enough to get acupunctured. It seemed like the metal needles were the real mind controllers. More slow drawing sounds of closing body bag zippers followed, sealing the girls in. Hopefully, the bags were just good transporters, like for pizza delivery. He certainly didn't want to be a Caesar's pizza encased like that -- or stabbed in the back like Brutus did to Caesar. Roberto wondered who his Brutus would be? Was it Tuppence? The Boss? Yaps? Bruno? Debs? Or maybe Sam, through memories shoved into his Bunny Bri head by the medallion? Maybe Sam lost his mind and lied with his warnings of the costumes after being acupunctured into a submissive Debs co- conspirator. This nightmare all centered around the blasted medallion. Et tu, medallion? Using its magic, he had been so many other people, all men, and now this. He adjusted his boobs. Until he understood what Tuppence meant, it seemed best to hide the purple outfit. But where? His baby blue eyes searched the room. A vent cover had been overly painted around the edges. It would take a knife to cleanly cut the sides free and keep the breach unnoticeable. The lockers didn't have padlocks, so anyone might clean them out at anytime. Then he noticed one place no one could touch. With pain shooting from around his taped nether lips, he minced his steps towards the last locker on the end. Above metal cabinets, a slanted tin roof prevented people from putting duffle bags and other items on top. Anything placed there would simply slide off. Inside an open locker, its ceiling was flat. "Good," muttered Roberto. He click clacked to the end of the row lining the wall. A triangular metal sheet capped the edge, guarding what should be an empty triangular tubed space between the lockers and the miniature slanted roofline. "Shit." He needed tools for this too and the goons would probably hear the banging about even if he had time to wedge the sheet metal free. He noticed something. "Wait," he muttered to himself. When he slung the purple costume over his shoulder, a pair of matching ears fell to the floor. He decided to ignore them for now and then opened the locker at the end of the row. Putting a high-heeled foot inside, he stepped up on a shelf and raised his short female frame to see some rivets. The tiny bolts had been broken. His long red painted fingernails tapped at the metal. He pushed the loose sheet about and wedged it free. Hidden inside the mouse-sized crawl space was another Bunny costume wrapped in a drycleaner bag. He pulled it out: a Playboy Bunny costume done in a colorful modern minimalist cubist satin print from the 1960's. Engraved in the nametag was the name Penny. Suddenly, a memory dropped Roberto into the locker room at another time when night left it dark and spooky. He looked into the eyes of a beautiful brown haired Playboy Bunny with bangs ending just above her eyes. White lipstick painted her smile. She wore the cubist printed satin costume. His body lay back under her straddling weight. A pile of scattered towels beneath bedded the locker floor. "The tape will come off without a hitch if you just get yourself even slightly wet," said Bunny Penny, her face overhead. Her long straight hair dangled and tickled. Her hands stroked and touched over Roberto's naked Bri body, rather freely and uninhibited for a stranger. "OK," said Bri's voice coming out of Roberto's mouth. His eyes glanced away down at his fully exposed female figure being brushed by yard long brown trusses. Strands of hair slid off Penny's bare shoulders and crossed her bosom as she swung her head to clear her view from her long locks of hair. "I guess," said Bri's voice, "I should touch myself. Right? I've never done that - I mean like - you know." "As a woman? Don't worry. I'll touch you." "You mean, show me how?" "No. I'll do it myself." Penny took a deep breath. Her breasts inflated as her costume squeezed as if being just as eager as she appeared to be. "I have a craving to taste you." Her eyes ogled the blonde's naked body. Her face slid down out of view, then popped back up. "If you don't mind of course." "Um, sure," said the memory's voice. Excited emotions grew with anticipation of fantasy and desire and a cry of "oh god, that's good" when Penny started. Bri's voice coed and purred. Blood flushed in places Roberto never felt shiver before. He hoped that in the real world, the goons grabbing the swan girls weren't watching. A Bunny holding two costumes while being perch up hugging against an end row locker would be rather noticeable. He decided to risk it. He just couldn't stop himself from following the memory. He hugged the locker tighter and squeezed his eyes closed, giving himself to a memory that offered inescapable bliss. Penny nibbled the nipples. Her tongue journeyed down the tummy, around the belly button, and even lower. Her lips kissed the left inner thigh, then the right, closer up to the wonderful targeted goal. Her fingers pressed firmly down and gently parted the opening that left Bri's voice panting in fear and fascination. This was all so new. Roberto felt it too. The spirit experiencing the dream gave into the lust. Roberto gave in too. He felt the calling to join and relive it, be it. He was now a lesbian Playboy Bunny. Over Bunny Penny's shoulder and around her cottontail, his eyes saw several pink Bunny costume parts, ears, cufflinks and shoes peppering a bench running the length of the lockers. Falling to the floor into a tangle of rubber tubes, a stethoscope reminded Roberto of one of his Bunny predecessors: the Pink Bunny from the janitor's closet. Bri's eyes then forced Roberto to look over the brown hair bobbing between his raised knees. He had no say where the eyes looked. The mental movie had been filmed who knows how long ago. He sensed a tongue circle folds that only the medallion could make possible for a man. Shame troubled the body's spirit for being forced to wear something so girly as pink. The memory's soul hated the color and despised the Boss for choosing it. It seemed silly to feel shame about a color, thought Roberto. What about the tits, hair, pantyhose, and sexist bathing suit? What about the whole misogynistic attitude the Bunny suit represented for women? Roberto stopped himself. He actually liked that part and so did Bri. But given all the issues of the costume and its corset, the color pink seemed a minor infraction to manhood. A rush of lust hit. The spirit's soul enjoyed the oral touches and yet still begged for a chance to be normal. He just need a chance to crack Greenburg's safe, retrieve a black satchel and run - run away as fast as possible. The spirit wanted his body restored. In the meantime, Penny was utterly fabulous. Penny knew where to touch and when to tease. She could manipulate anyone. The sex pushed emotions hard into his head. It entered deep into his psyche. Roberto rebuked it. It then regrouped and shoved in even deeper, so unfathomably deeper. Roberto struggled to protect himself. The presence withdrew, but he could feel its pressure increase somewhere out in the void as if a failing fortress existed, crumbling stone by stone. He so longed to have the presence fill his mind again. He wanted it back full and hard. He could feel the build against his resistance. It felt good to resist and then given in, and try to push back again. The next wave surely would overwhelm him. He wanted to accept it now. He felt an aching emptiness without it. He begged to be filled again. Naked on the floor with only a few towels separating skin from cold tiles, he felt a chill, mentally and physically. The force against his sanity increased. Roberto needed to escape the dream. He needed to stop, but he wanted to linger and lap it up. Bunny Penny seemed so determined to get her captured Bunny Bri off and climaxed. Roberto wanted in some ways to help her. The stethoscope carrying Bunny seemed just as conflicted as Roberto. Pinky seemed unsure how safe an orgasm would be. Pressed against his leg, a satin feeling of smooth coolness caressed, except when interrupted by a harsh zipper scrapping the skin where Penny's legs straddled and pressed. A distracted glance showed both Roberto and the original Pink Bunny a blush colored blur down by the leg pinned under Penny. He had to think before he realized that Penny had shoved the empty deflated pink costume shell between her right inner thigh and Bri's left hips. The open brass zipper daggered the skin even more. Bri's body, the spirit of the original guy, and now Roberto's mind all felt it. It hurt, but Bunny Penny had dominance, her tongue made sure that no one seemed to care as Bri's body pulsed in a fully flushed joy. Roberto recalled how Tuppence, during the romp, held her purple costume clenched in her hand behind his back along with his black satin bodice too. Both outfits got compressed at times between their opposing bodies. Why? It had to take effort to juggle the costumes between them and not let them fall to the floor. Why do it? A wave of intensity broke through. Roberto had gotten distracted and now desires to be fucked hard cascaded through his soul. Bri's sexual desires entered his head. He and she enjoyed Penny's adept work, but still Bri want a well hung guy to devastate her forever. The notion scared Roberto, who pushed and banished the thoughts out of his head. Penny suddenly stopped. Roberto felt relief, but saddened and frustrated that the orgasm hadn't hit yet. Her face popped into view. "Tell me you're real name Bunny Bri. I've never fucked someone anonymously, ever. I don't do one night stands." She shrugged, seeming to realize the contradiction of her present actions. "I'm just doing you a favor. So, tell me." The Pink Bunny's Bri voice wavered. "I think the tape is loose now. Do you see it? Can you pull it out?" "Shhh. You're name. I need your name." "They call me Chris the Cracker, as in safecracker." Penny looked over her shoulder at the bench behind them and the tubes on the floor. "Ah, the stethoscope. I hear an accent mixed in with Bri's voice." "Puerto Rican." "Mmm. I love Latin men." Her face slid back down between Chris's boobs. She popped back up frustrating the lust. "You mean Christian, right? Chris sounds too Anglo. I like the more Latin Christian." She said it a couple more times and growled. "Please, let me pull the tape out. I don't think I want to climax." She smiled and moved down. Her lips glided across the tummy. "Nonsense. I know Bri faked being a lesbian, but you're in this body now. You want me to do you. Don't you? I need you to want it." "Yes, I do," said Chris, and the boundaries he built crumbled. Roberto felt the flood of Bri's body give into the heat. The tongue slowly pressed inside. The giggly thoughts and eager desires to prance about as a Playboy Bunny and make customers happy and serve drinks and let them all ogled and leer - it all swirled around every webbed fiber of Chris's personality. "I've never felt this," he gasped. "I'm building. Don't stop. Go faster. Please, Penny. I'm almost there." "Mmm mm," acknowledged Penny. Her tongue swirled faster, refusing to directly touch the bundle of nerves that Chris and Roberto have never known before. Banging sounds from the other room startled Roberto. He stuffed both the purple and the color printed costumes into the space above the lockers, and closed the metal panel. His chest was heaving; his breathe rapid. The second body bag dragged out of view. The guards had grabbed the girl's feet way to the left of the door, not able to see into the locker room. Hopefully no one saw a Bunny climbing up and taking apart a cabinet. Hopefully, no one saw the now hidden Bunny costumes. He climbed down. His hips swayed in a slow dance. His fingers slid down the smooth surface of his princess cut costume, feeling the horizontal ripples where the belly cinching of the taunt cotton underlay let the outer satin gather in willowy waves. He wanted to touch himself. He wanted to join in Chris's blissful moment. Memories installed by the medallion seemed so fickle. Unless Roberto grabbed them when offered, they seemed to wander off into a mental mist, lost possibly forever. This incident cried out to be felt -- to be saved for all eternity. His blonde head leaned back and banged against a locker door. His silly satin ears, bent forward in obedient bows, jittered. The headband held firm. The bendy jiggle came from the hidden wire frames of the ears giving into the passionate momentum as Roberto fluctuated between hesitation and willingness, twisting and turning his head, yes or no. He felt torn. Finally, he closed his eyes. The memory restarted of naked breasts being rapidly tapped by pointed tips of Penny's Bunny ears as her face pressed hard down below the belly and between the legs. He thought, "Just this once. Only this one memory. No real masturbation. Surely, that would be safe." He raised his hands to his shoulders and concentrated. His eager lithe fingers twiddled. They wanted real contact. They wanted sex and now. But no, he would keep his hands up and away. He would just recall the event, and then hopefully forever replay the scene in his mind every morning in bed when woke on mornings all by himself - as a man that is - of course, restored as a man. It was great spank bank material. Chris moaned in Bri's airhead voice. Roberto restrained himself from echoing the same sound. Penny tittered as her tongue twisted. She seemed to be enjoying this too much. Suddenly Chris's hips raised and his rounded rear slapped back down against the towel covered hard floor. He bucked his Bri body again and again. Penny remained in full contact. Her nails dug in to Bri's rear. Roberto could feel every muscle spasm. He felt how Chris loved the high and how the Pink Bunny side of him vowed to feel it again. Both men at that point in Penny's tongue lashing wanted to be Bunnies forever. Roberto could now understand why. He seriously considered it too and not just as a sex promise that comes with an instant regret. This was a real desire to be a life long Bunny. Bri had clearly studied and worked to achieve it and now her desires merged with both men living in copies of her. A pulse surged deep inside his body. Or was it Chris's or Bri's? Regardless, it felt heavenly. The back of Roberto's head banged against a locker door. He returned to the Bunny dressing rooms, standing there alone, hands up, wanting to masturbate. He could feel a hot flush sensation subsiding to a dampness deep inside that slowly slithered downwards. He rubbed his thighs together and checked himself out. There were no visible stains despite the well lubricated feeling. In a full-length mirror, he still looked perfectly coiffed. He wished he had joined in and formed a m?nage-a-trois of sorts bridged over time and memories. A wall clock showed 2PM. He was late. But had he, himself as Bri, orgasmed? Was it still just a memory? He rushed out to the dressing room, feeling his buried tape's flaccid structure loosened by his wetness. Maybe he had orgasmed? He paused at the row of dressing mirrors. At that moment he genuinely loved being a Playboy Bunny. He pursed his lips and thought: Thank you Greenburg for making this possible. Thank you for hiring me and making me a Bunny! He panicked. Wait! I don't want this, countered Roberto. He shook his blonde head and very slowly said to his reflection, "I, don't, want, this." His sexy reflection smiled back, practically saying: "Oh yes you do, you naughty rabbit, you. Now hurry your cute little bod to your station, Bunny Bri!" Did his reflection just talk back to him? Haunted by a sexy ghost that may not even be there, he stepped away bumping into a wall behind him. He turned and quickly trotted off. On the locker room floor at the end of a row of metal cabinets, sat a pair of purple Bunny ears. ***** Each step down the long cement hallway lessened the tape's tugs. The mass moved around inside, damp and lose, reminding him of his missing dildo computer. He yearned to feel it fill him again. The plastic phallic shifted so nicely when he walked. The present flaccid limp tape magically pulled inside just didn't do it the same way. Another turn in the maze of servant corridors led to one more mile long hallway, lit like a Seven-Eleven at night and feeling just as cold and lonely. Click clacks from his high heels echoed about. A door opened and two showgirls passed by. "The guest on level 23 really tips well," said a blue feathered bikini showgirl. "We were supposed to go in pairs," said the other. "You have to share, you know." Roberto didn't want any part of this world. Where had Tuppence gone? Why did she leave her costume behind? And the note? Why would he need her costume later? The notion scared him. Rounding a corner, he ran straight into Debs. She grabbed him by his left human ear. "The front door," said Debs, dragging Roberto by the ear down the hallway like a child being scolded, "must have a Bunny there when guests are expected." "Yes, Bunny Debs," yelped Roberto. "I'm super sorry I let you down." The super part of super sorry wasn't something Roberto would ever say. He didn't like that phrasing slipping out that way. "I promise to the best Bunny. Really." That promise wasn't something Roberto liked either. Debs stopped just before the swinging door to the foyer. "What is this horse shit?" Roberto felt his body slammed against a wall. The blue Bunny towered over him. Why did Bri have to be so diminutive in frame and stature? She had no strength to fight back. Maybe that was by design. Debs searched his medallioned baby blue eyes. She slapped his face. "You're still you in there, right? Tell me you haven't gone all ditsy on me too." Roberto's eyes widened. He wasn't certain. "Well, yeah. It's me. Roberto." "Shh," whispered Debs looking around. "You're not exactly reassuring me here. You know that, right?" "Just get me to Greenburg's bedroom already." "When he sees you in this meeting prancing around in black, you're a shoo-in to be invited. He'll ask me about you and insist. I'll sign you up and send you off tonight - maybe tomorrow. Tonight he's got an appointment with a latex mermaid. I doubt I can swing canceling that fantasy. I'll try." Roberto gulped. "I'll wear the mermaid suit. I guess." He shrugged his bare shoulders, lifting his bosoms slightly from their cups. A voice inside his head railed against the idea of ever leaving the Bunny suit. Another voice wanted him to slap himself, thinking that even a Princess Leia outfit would be good if it go the job done faster. She considered and then shook her head. "I doubt you'll be able to sneak around with your legs stuck together in rubber. You'd be flopping across the floor to get to the next room. That has nothing but failure written all over it." He composed himself and stood free of Debs. There was no choice. He had to do a Bunny mission. "I got this. Just get me an appointment." He straightened his cuffs, checked his nametag ribbon, and looked back up to his, hopefully, temporary boss. "Just be Bunny Bri," ordered Debs, "and before you know it, you'll be hooking that dildo inside you right up to Greenburg's computer." Her finger pressed gently against Roberto's crotch where the missing shock button should have been. Her eyes considered giving her sexy minion a jolt. Given the thick satin gathered to form the crotch strap, she didn't seem to notice anything missing. Hopefully, anyway, gulped Roberto. He pushed the swinging door opened and walked out into the foyer. "Wait," ordered Debs. He turned around. Debs popped off her cottontail. "You're missing a tail you idiot. Now I have to go back and get another one. Watch the door and cloak room." Walking away and absent a tail blocking any of the beauty, her round shaped derriere sashayed left and right with a sexual snap as her weight switched in sync with her stride. Propping the swinging door open, Roberto just watched, hypnotized as the blue Bunny marched down the endless hallway: left, right, left, right. "Mmmm," he hummed. Before the corner turn and without looking back, she raised both hands, aiming middle fingers back at Roberto. Left, right, left, she made the turn and disappeared. "I could love that woman," he said to himself. "If only she wasn't such a psycho bitchy broad.