Playboy Bunny Novels & Stories

She shook her head "No, he just called me his fuck puppy I wore a collar and while it was on, he'd only fuck me doggie style while calling me either his little fuck Puppy or his fuck bitch." Abi led her over to the pet play section. "Okay, well, I want to get you back into that. I think it's a great way to enhance your humiliation level. So you have a few options on the pet. There's bunny pet. You wear long ears and a little cotton tail butt plug and at home you hop around everywhere and only eat veggies and drink from one of those water bottles with the metal ball." Becky shook her head. "No, thank you. Hoping and no meat yeah I'll pass on that."

he called. “One seeecond!” I breathed out. “If she finds my makeup, I’m selling this yacht.” I waited. Ten seconds. Twenty. Too long for a child who claimed she was only getting Bunny’s crown, but not quite long enough to justify the panic beginning to tap at the back of my neck. I was about to stand when I heard small footsteps inside. Poppy appeared in the doorway. She was not carrying a crown. Bunny was still tucked under her left arm. In her right hand, she held several thin sheets that looked like printed photographs. Not an album. Loose snapshots, small and slightly yellowed at the edges.

Those reporters were the ones who needed answers, and would ask the dumbest or the easiest questions to get that pay raise. He pointed to a young man, wearing glasses and a crooked red tie. He cleared his throat before asking the second question "It's no surprise that you are well known throughout the tabloids for many different reasons. Tell us how you are planning to show people that you are ready to take on such a responsibility." If he says anything about Playboy Rehab I'm going to choke him. "Well, it's important to make a name out of yourself, and clearly my name is a little more...dynamic than others."

He pulled back just enough to look into her eyes, his thumb forcing her chin upward, his gaze completely consumed by a dark, unyielding obsession. "I told you, little girl," Leo whispered, a slow, wicked smirk touching his lips as the opening bell of the New York Stock Exchange began to chime faintly from the monitors behind him. "The sandbox belongs to me. And nobody gets to look at what's mine."

"What?" "What made you think that?" She pointed toward my jersey. "The jersey." I looked down, then back at her. Then down at the jersey again. "I still don't understand." The girl laughed. "That's what puck bunnies do." I frowned. "What the hell is a puck bunny?" Her eyes widened. "You don't know?" "No." She looked genuinely shocked. Like I'd just admitted I didn't know how to breathe. "A puck bunny is basically a hockey player's girlfriend."

I stammered out, cursing myself for sounding flustered. He advanced closer, backing me towards the wall. "Well, since you won't let me touch your things, I wanna play with my girl instead..." "Your girl?!" I sputtered. "What the hell are you..." But he had already turned and grabbed something from his duffle bag. Trent straightened, holding up...a basketball? "This is my girl," he announced with a wink. Tossing the ball between his hands, he added "I mean shooting some hoops."

“Mom, why are you on his side?! Don't you know that he's a known playboy?” “Auntie, I was indeed called a playboy before. But as a man nearing his thirties, I would love to settle down with a lady I could call my home. To be completely honest, I had quite a few failed dates and it has greatly discouraged me.” Leila sneered. ‘Quite a few, huh?’ ‘But how was he able to make everything in favor of him? He was so convincing. Even I almost believed his nonsense!’ ‘Either way, what was he saying… He's going to settle down?’

He turned back at me when he was stark naked, grinning. There wasn't a single inch of him without conditioned, carved muscles. His abs chiselled into the finest six packs, his broad tattooed shoulders giving way to his thin waist. He stood like a beacon of wanton sin, his hands fisted and his legs slightly apart. I found myself moving to a standing position, my breath skipping as I allowed my gaze to settle on his thick, hard cock.

I just set them back on the hook for now and kept walking, my heart beating a little faster. I moved to the toys section next. Rows and rows of vibrators. Some were small and bullet-shaped, others longer and curved. There were ones that looked like they could be worn inside, and a few with rabbit ears. I picked up a sleek purple one that felt smooth and expensive in my hand. Then a smaller one, discreet enough to maybe travel with. My fingers hovered over a display of butt plugs—small ones in soft silicone, some with pretty jewel bases. I picked up the smallest one, turning it over in my palm. It was light pink and looked almost innocent.

A hot air balloon ride at sunrise. A horse riding stable with sunset tours. My frustration was building with each notification. Did Derek not have anything better to do than spam me with date ideas? Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. "DEREK," I typed in all caps. "STOP SENDING ME PICTURES." "Just a few more options," he replied. A trampoline park. A laser tag arena. An escape room. A go-kart racing track. I threw my phone down on my bed in exasperation. But even from across the room, I could hear it buzzing.