A Rope Bunny Novels & Stories

Trying. Poppy sat on the fluffy rug between the two castles, her hair falling down her back, her bangs starting to slip free from their clip, one strawberry sock on, the other missing because life was too short for symmetry. Beside her, Bunny had been seated on a tiny chair from a tea set, its fabric face looking resigned to accepting a government position.

He had already used ten coins and yet, he couldn’t grab the pink bunny. Ella sighed and said, “Daddy, it seems this is hard for you too. Let’s go and try something else.” “No, princess. Daddy said he would get you this bunny. Daddy always keeps his promises,” Ryan proclaimed. He exchanged his tokens for some coins and tried again. However, as soon as the claw grabbed the bunny, it slipped and fell back into the box. “Ryan, I think it’s ok. We can just get her a bunny from a store-”

encourages River, “we can help cut you free of that rope if you want.” She eyes us for several seconds longer, before a filthy little hand swipes the knife. She doesn’t take her eyes off us and several minutes pass. Then she looks back at the cub shaking under the bed and holds out a hand to her little sister. “Come on sunny bunny. They’re here to rescue us. Take us far away from here. It’s okay.”

“I remember you used to hit harder.” Her blush grew darker and she was glad for the dimness of the deck. She felt her heart pounding inside her chest. “But seriously,” he finally told her, “this is no ordinary rope. This is tree-drop rope. From the crying wood tree.” “Tree-drop rope?” she echoed. Her delicate fingers reached to touch the material and feel its texture. “Aye, it’s perfect for Karamijutsu training. This rope stretches and then goes back to its original length. You can do endless somersaults and all sorts of acrobatics with it.”

It was a little baby rabbit. "Oh a wild rabbit, how cute!" I said. "It is quite cute, isn't it?" Ambrose said quietly while stroking the rabbit's fur. "So soft and delicate." Ambrose traced his finger around its neck and I had a bad feeling about it. "What are you planning on doing with it?" I asked. "So fragile," Ambrose repeated as if he didn't even hear me talking to him. "You could just grab his neck and snap it in half. It would be so easy," Ambrose said with a blank face.

“Want to watch another scene? There’s a Shibari demonstration starting. It’s like watching art.” I followed her, my heart pounding with a renewed sense of purpose. I might still have half a mind on my abandoned article, but tonight I was here for myself. The rope artist on stage worked slowly, wrapping lengths of red rope around their partner’s torso, creating intricate patterns that accentuated curves and limbs. The submissive breathed deeply, eyes closed, body relaxing more with each wrap. I was mesmerised—not by the restraint itself, but by the calm trust in the submissive’s face, the gentle touch of the rigger, and the way everyone watched in respectful silence.

With my back to him, I heard him pick up the rope and unwind it. He asked, “Is this what you want? Bondage?” “Yes.” He began by looping the long rope around my chest. When knotted at my breastbone, he split the rope and wrapped it tightly around my chest. Like a stiff bustier, it kept me from taking a big breath. Next, he wound my arms into the matrix, binding them to my sides. I focused on his eyes as he pulled the end of the rope across my back and around my arms. Working like an artist, he wrapped and tightened it, so my front chest expanded, and my back arched. He continued looping the rope around each arm in this way so that the knotted rope became sleeves that bound my arms to my sides

A bubble began to form. “It’s probably the sun warming up the gas inside. We should probably get back,” I said. I don’t consider myself an expert in these matters, but it seemed a plausible explanation. We all stepped back as the bubble grew bigger and bigger. It reached beachball proportions and then it popped, and a rabbit jumped out. It looked like the rabbits we hunted, except for one thing: the long horn growing out of the centre of its head. “Fooking hell,” said Flossie. “It’s a bunny unicorn!”

“I remember those days.” “You can remember that far back, Row?” Junior teased. “You be nice, little boy.” She advised watching as Bunny pulled out tissue paper. “Your momma said that you were doing a faery theme.” The large crocheted blanket started to unfold as it came out of the bag. On a blue-sky background with flowers around the edges, faeries, butterflies and dragonflies were caught in midflight. A matching crocheted faery doll fell out and Ty caught it just before it hit the ground.