Down the Bunny Hole by Leona D. Reish Read Free Book Online Page A

her throat.
The thought of it seemed to fluster her some. “But ooh, now what would she
think if she comes in with me your lap, huh?!" She’d always been the more
playful one about things, too. Mike being the bigger guy he was just heaved and
lifted her off the couch. Perfect time for the apartment door to slam open in
front of them, right?
    Right. And who else but Michelle, looking
like she’d ran the whole way up flights of stairs. The dilated glare in her
eyes didn’t do much for her composure either, but seeing the pair like that,
she straightened slowly and brushed herself off with an unnerving calm before
smiling with an all too sweet tone in her voice. “I trust you’re carrying her
to throw out a window, right, Mikey?”
    You'd almost think she meant it, and Mike
let Beth down quick with hands in the air as though actual law enforcement had
stormed the place. Beth snickered and put the hat atop her younger sister’s
glare. Shopping for a Halloween party, she called it. “Out.” Michelle called
it. Something in her voice lacked the steadiness of her glare though. It was
hard for Mike to not smile about it; he knew what was wrong with Michelle.
    “Alright, alright. Just remember, Mikey,
don't do it here or you-” Beth was in the middle of making her farewell note
when her little sister – smaller in age, at least – snapped again, “Out!” and
pointed at the door. Mike's soft laugh seemed to dampen and stop the electric
in the air bursting, and he just patted Beth on the back with a quick nod as he
pushed her out.
    “I know, go on. You girls can catfight
when you have the costumes for it.” He advised, grinning down at Michelle who'd
softened into a smouldering, disgruntled pout. Beth just laughed down the hall
as she left, Michelle seeing to it that the sound was cut off sharp by slamming
the door.
    Now you’d think after that show of a woman
scorned, barely controlled quivering at the hips, that she’d chew him off.
Well, not quite, though she did lunge at him pretty fast and push him back onto
the couch. Before you know it, Mike's face is covered in her lips, his shirt
buttons popping and tearing off. Michelle had used the last of her restraint
waiting to get to be alone with him, now she had nothing left. Between
smothering kisses, Mike tries to push in for words. “So y-mnh-you kept it in,
huh?”
    “Y-yes, Master. Biking home it w-wouldn't
stop.” Michelle was a mewling mess now, little ball of putty in Mike’s hands.
All it took was reaching under her skirt to get her to wail and shake a little
when he pressed down on a thick flange of rubber. That morning she'd had some
extra instructions for ‘clothing’ to take with her, and driving her in had
meant she could pick up her bike from the campus to cycle back.
    “I bet it wouldn’t, and you want it out
now, huh?” Mike asked in that all too calm and understanding tone. See, after
she'd stopped trying to hit, hate and forget him for a couple months after that
fateful meeting, Michelle realised she loved how unmoving and gently dominant
over her he was. He had a way of making her forget herself and being her rock,
whether she liked it or not.
    “Y-yes, Master. I need you.” Michelle was
good at whining into her man, but then he had a habit of making her beg, too.
One she always tried to fight off. Mike just chuckles and rubs at the plug
she’s been carrying around, making her squirm.
    “Well alright, but there’s something I
need you to do for me.” The way Mike just lay there, fingering the base of that
black rubber between Michelle’s cheeks had a casual, almost natural and
innocent way about it.
    “Please, Master, don’t make me beg,
please...” And therein was one of the problems Michelle has with fighting him,
she wants to submit to him by habit to the point of not even realising it. He
barely has to lift a finger or the tone of his voice to get her on her knees,
these days.
    “You’re already begging, Michelle.”