Story Time: Do Rubber Bunnies Dream of Electric, Latex Sheep? [FutaXfurry-trap, TF]

Something a little darker, written as a commission for a good friend with some awfully fun ideas. A feminine, bunny trap gets a little more than he ever bargained for. Yeah, a bit of a cliche, but give it a go.

Content to be aware of includes futaXmale, domination, transformation, human/demonessXfurry, rough-sex

Story Time: Do Rubber Bunnies Dream of Electric, Latex Sheep?

by Bishiebunny

commissioned for Raelbny

This was the best night of the bunny's life.

The music had invaded Rael's feminine form, sidestepping the specialized movement which people liked to call dance. He slipped into a more primal groove, golden locks shimmering, with a motion closer to the edge of instinct. The pink-furred rabbit allowed himself to be shifted about the floor, spiritual sails billowed by a sonic gale. He followed the sensual flow of rhythm, ignoring the tyranny of rhyme. Other bodies were pulled closer, caught up in his frilly flight. They ground together in a shared second of humid bliss, before scattering back into the crowd, drifting out of his awareness.

Sound produced light, light had a flavor, and his drink tasted like satin felt. The dizzying stimuli had lost all sense of reality. It melted into a dreamy cream of experience that would be forgotten once the sun shot her rays of cancerous sobriety into an unready brain.

Come morning, there would be hell to pay. But that was only if such a thing as morning existed. At that time of night, it seemed awfully unlikely. Tomorrow was just a Boogie Man to frighten those who dared not boogie. Besides, the waking world meant nothing to dreamers. They existed on separate planes of existence, divided by a line of pants and no-pants.

Bubbling within was a froth of ingested liquids, stirring flesh to produce its own liqueur of excited sweat, and heady musk. His moisture mixed with the powder necessary to slip into the too-tight embrace of his favorite squeaky, latex outfit. Saturated and sloppy, the reflective shell lost all context. It ceased being a fabric, ceased even being a second skin. The liquid rubber coating his girlish shape was only tension, a slight resistance to his movement. It was like being bound by invisible, kinky Lilliputians.

Rael was drunk; drunk on the night, drunk on music, and drunk on something fruity and pink.

When the froth of cerise bubbles gave the bunny's brain a squish, he let out a squeal. His balance evaporated and his long legs became a hindrance. Damn those Lilliputians, he thought, taking an impromptu Trust-Fall. Time was too busy hitting on Space to notice, giving the inebriated sissy a chance to enjoy the ride. Someone would catch him, he thought with a giggle. Someone always did. He might even go home with them tonight, if they played their cards right. At that moment, the only card he was looking for was a refill.

It was the softness that surrounded the strong embrace which gave his savior's gender away. Or maybe it was the scent of not-q