Disobedient Bunny Pt. 2

He stepped away again, and my whole body leaned forward before I could stop it, the empty space ached like a bruise.

But he knew that, he counted on it.

“You hear that silence, Bunny?” His voice came from somewhere behind me—closer than before, and yet still just out of reach. “That’s the sound of you earning nothing.”

I whimpered.

“I could make it worse,” he said, and I believed him. “But then what would I do off-camera?”

The heat in my stomach twisted into something darker.

The kind of ache that didn’t just sit in your body—it possessed it.

The leash gave a single tug, and I followed the pull instantly, crawling across the carpet on shaky limbs. My head bowed, breath shallow, thighs trembling from effort and denial.

He didn’t touch me, he didn’t need to.

I felt his dominance like gravity, pulling at every inch of me, every thought I had.

He circled twice.

“Tell them what you want.”

I hesitated, my pride snapped its teeth.

The leash yanked and I gasped.

“Say it.”

“I—I want to be touched,” I breathed.

“Touched how?”

“By… by you.”

He crouched in front of me, his face level with mine. His eyes were calm. Patient. Dangerous.

“And if I don’t?”

I blinked, breath caught in my chest. “Then I’ll wait.”

A smile ghosted across his lips—cold and proud.

“Wrong answer, little bunny.” he said.

His hand cupped my face, thumb stroking the corner of my mouth. “You’ll beg, Bunny. You’ll earn it with every humiliating little sound that leaves your lips. You’ll make them wish to be me. And you’ll love it.”

The screen behind him still glowed with my playback—knees raw, voice cracked, eyes glassy.

“Smile for your fans again,” he said, voice silk and steel. “Let them see what obedience looks like on you.”

I did obeying because I needed him to put me out of my misery.

He rose again, and I felt that loss like a slap.

“Crawl to the mirror.”

My eyes darted toward it—an enormous, gold-framed beast against the wall. It faced the camera perfectly.

Each shuffle of my knees scraped the carpet. My palms were sweaty against the floor. The collar tugged gently with every inch I gained, guiding me like a rabbit. A pet.

His pet.

Once I reached it, I stopped. My reflection stared back.

I looked messy, needy, and so slutty.

“Up.”

I didn’t understand at first.

“On your knees,” he clarified, voice calm, cruel. “Sit pretty, keep your hands on your thighs. Back straight. Chin up.”

The girl in the mirror obeyed.

“Look at her,” he said from behind me. “Look at that empty-eyed, needy little toy.”

“I’m not—”

A sharp tug of the leash snapped my words in half.

“Shhh,” he crooned mockingly. “You were about to lie. We don’t do that here, Bunny.”

He came into view then—his reflection towering behind mine. He looked untouched. Composed. God-like in his control.

He placed his hand lightly on my head. “You want to be good?”

I nodded.

“Say it.”

“I want to be good,” I whispered.

“Louder. Let them hear you.”

“I want to be good,” I said again, shame burning behind my teeth.

“You want to be used?”

My lips parted, but no sound came.

His fingers wrapped around my throat—not tight. Not enough to hurt. Just enough to hold.

“Answer.”

“I… I want to be used.”

“There she is.” He grinned in the mirror, like a man admiring his art. “And what do good little toys get when they admit the truth?”

My pulse pounded.

“Rewards,” I breathed.

“Exactly. But not today.”

His grip fell away.

I blinked. “W-What?”

He leaned in close to my ear, the leash now wrapped around his fist like a threat. “You’ll spend tonight watching yourself on replay. Every moan, every crawl, every pathetic little sound. You’ll learn exactly what you are, Bunny.”

“No touching. No whining. No escape.”

He kissed the side of my head like a farewell. “And if you’re still wet tomorrow morning, maybe I’ll ruin you properly.”

He turned and walked away.

The door shut behind him.

And I just knelt there, staring at my reflection.