[Original] Bunnies
Sep. 21st, 2011 02:47 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kittydesadeTitle: Bunnies
Source: Black Ice
Genre: Urban Fantasy/Erotic
Characters:
Word Count: 696
Summary: Hellhounds need loving too.
A/N: Written for the![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
kink_bingo prompt "Plushie/Furry"
Hellhounds weren't on anybody's favorite client list. No one took a job for a Hellhound without plenty of desperation, or plenty of insurance, or both. They didn't usually have much money, they all had bad tempers with teeth and claws to match, and it took a hell of a lot to even put a dent in one, which didn't lead to a lot of dissuading fear factor.
The one group of people who did take Hellhound money pretty willingly were the madams.
Not all of them, but most Hellhounds were ugly bastards. Those who weren't, were average at best. It was a rare one who got to make it all the way to the handsome end of the gene pool before he was whelped, and those weren't the ones who hired prostitutes. But Hellhounds paid decent money and they didn't knock around the girls, because if they did, no madam would ever deal with them again and they'd be forced to rely on their good looks and charming ways to get women. Or men. Poor bastards.
So, okay, when the contract came down for a party at the apartment above the laundromat the next night, I jumped at the chance. Yes, it was the loft above a laundromat, which wasn't exactly the best place in town. It wasn't even the kind of place we were used to.
But Leo was an old client, and an old friend of the Madam's. And he was paying extra for the costumes, and there were about five of us, so we could take it on, right?
Leo was celebrating something. Hellhound politics, I didn't ask and he didn't tell, they all had this kind of wolf pack mentality. Leo wasn't part of a pack, he was a lone wolf Hellhound, but they still kept him in the loop and apparently they had told him something really juicy this time. He wanted to celebrate. We put on our ears and our fluffy white cotton tails and let him.
"That's my girls!" he slapped my ass as I went in. Did the same to a couple other girls; we didn't mind, we wiggled our tails for him and giggled like good little bunnies. He wanted to play the big bad wolf, he could. "All my little bunnies, right in a row."
His apartment smelled like molding laundry and stale socks. I could see why he'd had problems getting a woman to come back here with him. Wasn't our place to judge, though. We weren't getting paid to humiliate him, just bounce around and twitch our noses and jiggle our breasts and our tails for him. All of us could do that.
He did like playing the Big Bad Wolf, too. Tugged down my panties, didn't yank, he was a polite bastard and let us keep our clothes un-torn, but tugged them down and went to work like a dog humping my ass. The cotton ball tail tickled my backside, probably tickled his front, too, and he panted right over my head and between my ears. Could have told him he didn't need to do that. I knew he liked it even without his cum dripping down my leg.
We fell asleep like that after a while, some of us. All piled up more like a wolf with cubs than like a wolf with a pile of bunnies he'd have for breakfast, but there was some of that, too. The Hellhounds might think of themselves like wolves, but they weren't. Big Daddy taking care of his little bunny girls appealed to the side of him that could think like a man, even if being the predator among the pray made him howl like a dog. He fucked like one, too. Hey, I don't judge. I got paid for a night's easy work, to hop around and twitch my tail and collapse in a pile of warm bodies at the end of it all. There are worse ways for a girl to earn a night's work.
Source: Black Ice
Genre: Urban Fantasy/Erotic
Characters:
Word Count: 696
Summary: Hellhounds need loving too.
A/N: Written for the
kink_bingo prompt "Plushie/Furry"Hellhounds weren't on anybody's favorite client list. No one took a job for a Hellhound without plenty of desperation, or plenty of insurance, or both. They didn't usually have much money, they all had bad tempers with teeth and claws to match, and it took a hell of a lot to even put a dent in one, which didn't lead to a lot of dissuading fear factor.
The one group of people who did take Hellhound money pretty willingly were the madams.
Not all of them, but most Hellhounds were ugly bastards. Those who weren't, were average at best. It was a rare one who got to make it all the way to the handsome end of the gene pool before he was whelped, and those weren't the ones who hired prostitutes. But Hellhounds paid decent money and they didn't knock around the girls, because if they did, no madam would ever deal with them again and they'd be forced to rely on their good looks and charming ways to get women. Or men. Poor bastards.
So, okay, when the contract came down for a party at the apartment above the laundromat the next night, I jumped at the chance. Yes, it was the loft above a laundromat, which wasn't exactly the best place in town. It wasn't even the kind of place we were used to.
But Leo was an old client, and an old friend of the Madam's. And he was paying extra for the costumes, and there were about five of us, so we could take it on, right?
Leo was celebrating something. Hellhound politics, I didn't ask and he didn't tell, they all had this kind of wolf pack mentality. Leo wasn't part of a pack, he was a lone wolf Hellhound, but they still kept him in the loop and apparently they had told him something really juicy this time. He wanted to celebrate. We put on our ears and our fluffy white cotton tails and let him.
"That's my girls!" he slapped my ass as I went in. Did the same to a couple other girls; we didn't mind, we wiggled our tails for him and giggled like good little bunnies. He wanted to play the big bad wolf, he could. "All my little bunnies, right in a row."
His apartment smelled like molding laundry and stale socks. I could see why he'd had problems getting a woman to come back here with him. Wasn't our place to judge, though. We weren't getting paid to humiliate him, just bounce around and twitch our noses and jiggle our breasts and our tails for him. All of us could do that.
He did like playing the Big Bad Wolf, too. Tugged down my panties, didn't yank, he was a polite bastard and let us keep our clothes un-torn, but tugged them down and went to work like a dog humping my ass. The cotton ball tail tickled my backside, probably tickled his front, too, and he panted right over my head and between my ears. Could have told him he didn't need to do that. I knew he liked it even without his cum dripping down my leg.
We fell asleep like that after a while, some of us. All piled up more like a wolf with cubs than like a wolf with a pile of bunnies he'd have for breakfast, but there was some of that, too. The Hellhounds might think of themselves like wolves, but they weren't. Big Daddy taking care of his little bunny girls appealed to the side of him that could think like a man, even if being the predator among the pray made him howl like a dog. He fucked like one, too. Hey, I don't judge. I got paid for a night's easy work, to hop around and twitch my tail and collapse in a pile of warm bodies at the end of it all. There are worse ways for a girl to earn a night's work.