Sunday, April 24, 2011

The Istar Bunny, an Easter Tale


The Istar Bunny- An Easter Tale, Based on a Dream by Slippers, 2011

MC, trans, reluc, mf, md, gr
DISCLAIMER: This material is for adults only; it contains explicit sexual imagery and content of an adult nature. If you are offended by this type of material or you are under legal age in your area, do NOT continue.
COPYRIGHT:
Copyright © 2011 Slippers (wendy_slippers@yahoo.com) All rights reserved; this story is not to be reproduced in any form without the express written permission of the author. This story may be freely circulated only with permission, in its entirety and with this notice attached.
SYNOPSIS:
Easter’s roots lie in Pagan past and present!
INTRO COMMENTS:
Most of my writings are actual events I've experienced, with names or such changed. This story is from a dream I had, intermixed with real life events. If you were at the church events related to this story please do not post those events ok? As you know it would damage my church position and hurt people. The story has non-consensual sex and though I try to tame down the graphic language, the graphic nature is evident.
   FOR THOSE EASILY TRANCED- realize I write all my stories half-tranced (or more), living and reliving it from every character’s perspective, to get more realistic actions based on the characters’ senses. This story, though basically fiction, includes actual trancy events, and I have tried to write them faithfully from reliving the events, and writing what I could about it, including the trancing when appropriate. If you are easily tranced like me, PLEASE be careful when reading my stories.
   Please be kind- I write to express what I cannot in my real world. Much of what I write, I have experienced first hand, and due to my family and occupational restrictions, can never share with those closest to me. Names are always changed.
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   Louise put the last colorful egg into the brown paper bag, and through the back door open quickly. She had to get to the church Easter Egg hunt before the children, so she could hide the thirty plastic eggs, each with a toy or candy inside. She had spent hours on them, struggling to pop and seal each plastic egg without breaking them, and feeling rather smug about her achievement.
   ‘Three years of college seems to have taught me something, I can make religious objects!’ She mused to herself.
   The wind was a bit chilly, and cut through her cream wool pantsuit, slapping at her blonde ponytail. She stepped outside quickly and pulled the door hard, to fight the old wooden door’s resistance to latch properly. The door slammed hard, rattling the window.
   A large full lop eared, bunny sat up in the backyard, its front paws in the air. It was so large, anyone would have noticed him, as did Louise.
   “Ohh,, a bunny!” She gasped aloud. She stood still, sensing the bunny’s natural tendency to run at any sight or sound. It stood there, small black nose twitching furiously on his deep brown body. Small white areas around the eyes added facial gestures, and his eyebrows were black and thick with brow hairs- similar to his whiskers. He sat his paws back down on the ground, and began eating the grass Louise had forgotten to mow that week.
   Louise sat the sack on the cement walk, that led to her garage in the back of the old house. She stood admiring the regal bunnie’s thick shiny fur, and after a few minutes, had begun to creep forward, to see how close she could get to him.
   40 feet, 30,, 20,,, She slowly stepped with one foot at a time, feeling something akin to what a hunter must feel, at a successful prowl to her prey. At ten feet she began to crouch, careful not to get grass stains on her pantsuit.
   “Here comes Peter Cottontail, hopping down the bunny trail,,” She sang melodiously, and slow. The Bunny looked up, and then hunched forward, as if ready to sprint away. Louise stopped moving, now almost on all fours, less than three feet from the huge rabbit. Her hands were on the wet grass, but she kept her knees from the dew.
   “I’m Louise. What a cute big bunny you are!” Her voice was a whisper. She didn’t want to be late for the picnic, but how often did she get so close to nature? The bunny stood up on its rear legs again, propped on his rump by his fluffy tail, and unbelievably large feet. He had small drops of dew on his fur, but they were beads, as if he might be water resistant. His nose twitched slowly, and his little black button-eyes darted back and forth, stopping frequently stopping at Louise.
   “What brings you to my back yard little bunny?” Louise queried, now speaking in a normal tone. The bunny did not run, or even flinch. He tipped back his head, sniffing the air, then aimed his wiggly nose back at Louise, his eyes catching the morning sunshine. His bright black eyes gleamed brightly.
   Louise found her vision blocked by her clothing, a scarf or what have you. She instinctively brushed at it, flinched, hopped. She hopped again. Her breath was fast and shallow and her heart was racing. She felt dizzy, and confused.
   She craned her neck to the left, and saw a huge mound of clothes, equal to a circus tent in volume. She stared in amazement as she realized the off white wool blend, the pin striping, the plastic belt, were from her morning’s ensemble. Then she heard the powerful and sexy voice in her head of the male beside her.
   “HERE…ME…YOU…LEAFY-EAT…HOP…FEAR…NO…COME…SNIFF.” She couldn’t quite understand his words / thoughts, but why should she be able to? He was a rabbit! Louise shook her head, slinging her blonde pony, , wait,, EARS. She twitched again, as the dark brown Lop munched on grass, and felt her long ears wiggle, then sit against her warm furry back. She no longer felt the wind, or even cold. Just the wet grass against her bottom, and her large furry feet. Her brain screamed in rebellion and she turned her attention to the male in front of her. He smelled like a wet dog kinda, with a musky cologne mixed in.
   “I am Louise, see, What happened? Why can I hear your thoughts? What is going on!!! I’m going to be late for church!” She breathed rapidly, hopping away from him two small leaps, then turning back to him. ‘This isn’t happening’, she grasped.
   “FEEL…TWITCH…EAT…SEX…NEED…WARM?…DOG!…DOWN STREET…RUN NO…YES?”
   Louise tried to cradle her face in her hands, but her thick paws would not turn so far around. Her “thumb” nail caught her cheek, and she gazed at how long and sharp her nails were. She had never noticed before how strong and agile, and muscular a bunny was, and with what weapons it could defend itself. She felt just the way she had when she got the shots and medicines at the hospital, during her miscarriage: Woozy, warm, confused.
  The male neared her right side, somewhat behind her. His nose pushed against her right front paw, and his personal fragrance was that of a heavenly perfume, a powerful undeniable scent, and she felt very silly suddenly. She turned to face the mysterious dark brown male.
   “What, am I like, why,, am I this way? Why are you,, this way?” She stared into his deep brown eyes. They were watery with sadness and he was about to expound a story to her, she could tell. She felt however the presence of
   “CROW…RUN CROW NO…FREEZE… EAT?” He thought to the female Louise.
   She looked down at the long deep green stalks of luscious greenery, soft and wet. She hesitantly bent her nose to the sweet smelling veggie, but froze with cold blood as the shadow of a large crow flew overhead, toward the cornfield and farm at the end of the street. She was starting to understand the language, the mannerisms, the nobility of the male.
   “I…leafygreen great!…tell me…how you… dog?” She heard the neighbor’s dog, well over a hundred yards away, running down the street. He had gotten loose again. She tried to rephrase her words, but the buzzing in her head was dizzying. She concentrated, her breath slowing slightly, but her sides still heaving. The male’s warm fur was beside her now, touching her as she breathed, sending strange confusing images through her brain. She refocused.
   “You…how did…wait I mean…why I…how you…confusion…” She shook her head, swimming and feeling suddenly very very warm. Her loins beneath her felt as if she had to pee, but she wasn’t sure that was it, since she had gone just before she left the house for that place she was going to go, wherever it was. Her body trembled and she felt so warm she was going to pass out. The male had leaned against her right side.
   “SEX…TELL…WONDERFUL” He said, in his deep, and lusty voice, thick with accent. She looked up at him, ready to reiterate her confusion, trying to find the words to describe her questions, if indeed there were such things. The muscles in her body had turned to a jelly within her gorgeous pelt, and she found even raising up to be nearly impossible. She felt her heart race, and a burning itch aggrivate her irritated loins. She phrased and rephrased her question in her mind.
   “How…why?…Thank…wonderful you…” She was struggling for a word, she knew there was a word for him saving her life from the crow, for his care of her during this weirdness, helping her with her problem, her rather serious problem. She knew the problem was life or death, but just what the problem was had momentarily escaped her, as the male began nibbling on her neck. His strong left front arm/paw caressed her back, her tired shoulders, her long flattened out ears.He hugged her firmly, lovingly. Her head rested on the soft earth. She looked slightly to her side, as she saw him angle his muscular body behind her.
   “sex no…how…need to…need to…need? She couldn’t remember just exactly what she was about to say. She could barely get her body to obey her thoughts, let alone retrieve thoughts that were rolling out her head as surely as the bright colorful objects had rolled out the brown wood-cloth thing, and sat on the plush leafygreen.
   “NEED…” His warm heavy body pushed roughly against her, nearly rolling her forward. She threw her arms out in front, and balanced by lifting her tail high. This was the angle the male needed, as he quickly penetrated the Louise female.
   Visions, from a thousand movies, and her own thoughts, were clipped and pasted together and played rapidly in her mind, making little sense:
   A long dead civilization, living in a sandy land, worshipped the great Goddess of sexuality and wisdom, hunting, and more. She had been called many things. The male was biting her neck harder, she squealed. The ancient goddess had been named Istar, and there was a priest that cut up rabbits and sacrificed the ovaries before the orgy rituals. Her hips were ramming back onto his thrusts, and her head was swooning, filled with buzzing and overdosing on hormones. Her face was crushing into the soil, her lip cut by her own tooth as her male drove her. The priest had upset Istar and for punishment was made a bunny, forced to sacrifice one thousand of the two-leggers in some bizarre method she didn’t understand. Her body felt wasted as he got up off her. The visions faded. She sighed and relaxed onto the warm soil.
   He smelled the air. She smelled it too. Apples! They were by the cornfield, and there would surely be crows, but advancing together with her male, they would scare them off. She looked up at him, dazily.
   “You…me?” She spun toward him, as he chewed the soft sweet leafygreen. She nuzzled his nose with hers, even stealing his blade of leafygreen from his lips, playfully. He looked up, with mock anger.
  “YOU ME APPLES?”
   She twitched her nose the way he knew meant no, and said “you me?” The strange buzzing in her ears had cleared, and she checked for danger, then tried to remember what she was trying to remember to ask her male. He smelled the air, noting the one lone crow near the apple tree. He turned sadly to his female.
   “ME YOU APPLES…YOU WARREN MAKE…BABIES LIFE WONDERFUL…ME HOP TRAIL…TWO MORE LEFT…YES?”
   The female had a tear in her eye she couldn’t quite blink away. She grabbed up a mouthful of grass and straw to make her bedding. She knew she had to make her tunnels soon. She could tell from her body heat, her smell, she was fertile. She knew the male had given her wonderful life. She knew soon another male would need her, take her, and give her another chance to perform that which she was created to do. She wasn’t really certain why she was crying, but whatever it was causing the sadness, she was sure a meal of apples would make it better.

3 comments:

  1. fascinating! Love the imagery, the tale of the cursed priest of Istar. Well done

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  2. Mmm, Wow that was amazing. I really liked it!

    Kelserz

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  3. Hey you. Very good. Take care:)*hint. I chase windmills *grins

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