bunnygirl

7. cleaning

Marcus leaned down, his breath hot in her ear. "Now, Bunny, it's time to clean up." He tugged the leash, guiding her to the kitchen. The mess from their earlier debauchery was scattered across the floor-empty bottles, plates of half-eaten food, and discarded clothing.
He handed her a feather duster, the same one she had used to tease them earlier, and the room erupted in laughter.
Gigi took a deep breath, her heart racing as she began to move on her hands and knees. The plug inside her sent waves of discomfort, yet she found a strange allure in her new role. The bunny tail swayed with every movement, brushing against her bare thighs as she worked.
The men of The Den watched her with hungry eyes, some whispering lewd suggestions to one another, while others made lewd gestures.

Her first task was to pick up the shattered remnants of a glass. The shards of glass bit into her soft skin, but she didn't dare complain. Marcus's hand remained on her neck, the leash a taut reminder of his control. "Good girl," he murmured, his voice low and soothing despite the chaos around her.
Next, she was directed to the pile of dirty dishes, her face inches from the sticky mess. The smell of stale beer and greasy food made her stomach churn, but she knew better than to protest. Giulia's eyes darted to the floor, focusing on a particularly nasty stain.

The plug inside her grew warmer, and she realized it was vibrating, sending pulses of sensation through her core. Marcus had activated it, a silent message of his pleasure in her submission.
Her cheeks flushed as she began to clean the floor, her tongue darting out to wet her dry lips. The furry ears on her head made it difficult to hear much else beyond the murmurs of the men, but she felt their gazes like a physical touch.
Each scrape of the duster against the tiles, each clink of a plate set aside, echoed in the room.
The vibrations grew stronger, and she had to bite her lip to stifle a whimper. Her breathing grew ragged, the plug's rhythm matching the pounding of her heart.

Marcus watched her intently, his hand never leaving her neck. He leaned down, his mouth next to her ear. "You're doing such a good job, Bunny," he whispered, his voice a mix of praise and dark amusement. "Keep going."
She nodded, her eyes on the floor as she worked, trying to ignore the arousal that was building within her. The plug was a constant, maddening presence, and she found herself moving with it, her body instinctively responding to the sensations it provided.
The kitchen grew cleaner, but the vibrations grew more intense. Gigi's breath hitched, and she felt a warm wetness spread between her legs. She knew they could see it and the thought sent a thrill through her. The power dynamics in the room had shifted, and she was now the center of attention, a toy to be used and enjoyed. Marcus tightened his grip on the leash, pulling her closer to him.
"You're doing so well," he murmured, his voice a seductive promise. "But remember, you're not allowed to cum without permission."

Her eyes darted up to meet his, and she saw the challenge in his gaze. She nodded, her eyes wide with a mix of fear and excitement. The plug's buzz grew stronger, and she had to concentrate on her task to keep from climaxing.
Her body was a tight coil of need, her mind a haze of submission. The men's laughter and crude comments became background noise, the only thing that mattered was pleasing Marcus, her master.

With a final satisfied nod, Marcus abruptly stopped the plug's vibrations. "Good girl," he said, his voice low and gruff.
He tugged on the leash, leading her out of the kitchen and down the hallway to his room. The carpet felt plush beneath her knees, a stark contrast to the cold tiles she'd just been on.
The room was dimly lit, the curtains drawn to keep out the harsh lights of the city outside.

Her legs felt like jelly as she crawled into the room beside him, her heart racing in anticipation. What would happen next? The tension in the air was palpable, thick with desire and power.
He turned to face her, the leash still in his hand. "Stay," he commanded, and she froze, her breathing shallow.
Marcus shut the door with a firm click, the sound echoing through the room like the final beat of a drum.