Dumb Rabbit

You make your way through the living room. Thoughts of work still plague your mind. They weigh down on your neck. Head pounding with a headache. You throw your blazer onto a chair.

With a quick movement, you loosen the top button of your blouse. Relief floods you, a gasp escapes your mouth.

You walk towards your room. Pumps clatter on the floor. One after another, you lose them behind you.

Your toes lift up your legs as you imagine the wonderful release waiting for you. A smile blooms on your face.

You look into your room. It's filled with pink, cute, frilly, fluffy things. Pillows and blankets and plushies and posters. You smile in excitement at all the fun stuff you have.

The tension in your body fades away. Your breath is deep. Breasts moving up and down. With practiced ease the trousers fall away. So does the blouse — revealing the only small concession you have on work: lacey underwear.

But now that you are home even that small bliss can be stripped away. Your breasts are too large to fit into your bras at work. And your panties, though lovely, are nothing compared to the luxurious lace that you have hidden away for when you are home.

A bra falls. The underwear drops to the ground. A soft moan escapes your lips as you feel your whole body relax. Each motion now fluid, sensual. No longer is your mind burdened with thoughts, no longer with pain. The last of your clothes falls away, and with each new movement of naked flesh, you feel a little bit more relaxed.

The world seems brighter, more vibrant, as if a veil has been lifted. You can feel your body's tension release and you smile, feeling free.

The freedom to constrict your waist in a lovely corset. Legs encased in thigh-highs. Nipples hardening at the thought of wearing those delicious, delicate little lacy panties. The softness of silk on your skin. How your fingers will feel as they brush over the lace.

A moan escapes your mouth. The corset tightens. You can feel your heart pound faster. A shiver runs down your spine. The clacks of the six inch heels drum away any remaining inhibitions. You know of no sensation greater than this.

Fully dressed you sit down at your vanity. Eyes glazed and empty. Mouth slightly apart. Mind filled with only lust and pleasure. The makeup brushes slide over your face. A tube spreads bright and colourful wax over your lips. Eyeliner accentuates your lashes and makes your gaze so much more inviting.

Your fingers glide over the smooth glass of a small perfume bottle, spritzing the sweet, alluring scent into the air.

Finally you style your hair. A mane of luxurious curls fall over your shoulder and around your head.

The face of a woman, lost to her desires, gazes back at you. Your eyes are clouded and darkened by the makeup. Your lips are painted and pouty, with the corners slightly raised. Your cheeks are flushed and rosy, your skin a soft, velvety pink.

You are finally free. Properly attired like the bimbo doll you are. No more worries. Only fun.

Giggling you stand up. Your hips swaying side to side, you turn and make your way down to the living room. With each step you take, your heart beats faster and your body tingles. Each brush of silk against your skin sends a shiver through your body. Your nipples grow erect at the sensation.

You reach the sofa. It's covered in a luxurious, fluffy blanket. You plop your bubble butt into the soft cushions. With a simple press on the remote your screen springs alive.

A beautiful pink spiral pulses against your eyes. Soft soothing sounds, whispers offering mindless liberty fill the air. You spread your legs. Fingers slide down your chest. The spiral pulses, the voice soothes. Fingers slide over silk panties and press onto something wet.