Chapter 2

After our first meeting, I filled out the long survey of BDSM interests that Jon directed me to. We then emailed back and forth some more, discussing limits and other details. Lissa stayed out of it mostly, except for an apology for her poor behavior at our first meeting that seemed like it had been ordered by Jon.

Lissa seemed like a fun person to be around, but I wasn’t really sure what she thought of me yet, which made me a little nervous.

Jon definitely seemed like he could be someone I’d want to submit to. That’s harder than it seems, because not every Dominant works for me, even people who make good Dominants to others. You just have to feel the connection for it to work.

But still, there were lots of things that could go wrong. “Just see how the next meeting goes,” I told myself. “One thing at a time.”

But soon enough, we met up again. I stashed my stuff again, since I didn’t really want to share that I was homeless at that juncture. There was a space that some of the homeless people used where we could get lockers to store our stuff. You had to volunteer there as a monitor a few times a month, and you could only get in so many times a month (depending on how much volunteer time you put in) but it was nice to have a place to leave things. I had discovered it a while after I’d become homeless thanks to another homeless person, and I kept some extra things there that I’d accumulated. I could also stash my bag there to go do something. It meant that I couldn’t get access to my stuff until I came back, so for now it meant that I couldn’t change clothes or anything until the next morning when it opened again. I had a little bag with me, but it didn’t hold much.

We met at a local play space, someplace that was public and monitored. That’s a safer place to do things with someone you don’t know very well yet. If something goes wrong, there’s lots of help. Plus, if you’re like me, playing in front of others can just be fun. Having others watch me is a turn on.

The Switch was a nice space in the queer district. Everybody was a bit worried about whether it would survive as the city gentrified and the wealthy professionals pushed the poor queers out of the city and into the hinterlands, but so far it was still hanging in there. The crowd was mostly White, but varied in other ways. Folks there were straight and queer, rich and working class. They were pretty used to accommodations for people with disabilities.

Anyway, we met up again at the club. They had gotten there a little earlier, so they welcomed me in and I gave them each a big hug in greeting.

It was pretty dark inside, with a wall that kept the people inside from being visible from the door -- that allowed them to have nudity and fetishwear inside that wouldn’t be street legal.

The lighting was somewhat dim, and the walls were mostly black and designed to fade into the background. There was some erotic art hung here and there, and there were some niches around the perimeter of the room that were decorated for things like medical play and dungeon play. In the back, there was a room with some beds where couples or groups could go for some semi-private sex. (Thankfully they issued each group new sheets and such.) But really, the club was organized around the open space in the center of the main room where most of the public BDSM play happened.

It was pretty early in the evening on a weeknight, so it wasn’t very busy. Jon got me in with a guest pass on his membership, but I insisted on paying the guest cover charge myself. It was cheaper than the non-member cover charge and I could pay it as long as I was careful with the little money I had.

We found a nice spot in a seating area and exchanged the usual small talk. Apparently Jon had been busy with a new version release at work. Nothing exciting, just generic stuff going on. I spoke about my life in generic terms to keep from bringing up my situation.

“So are you ready to try pet play like we talked about?” Jon finally asked.

“Yeah, I can do it,” I replied. I was definitely nervous, but a lot of my favorite life experiences had happened when I was nervous. I just needed to push through it. It would be nice to go back to my bunny headspace again -- it had been too long.

“Are you comfortable with us watching over you?” He seemed genuinely concerned, which was sweet.

“Sure.” I smiled, took a deep breath, and forced myself to try to relax. “And y’all know what to do?”

“Yep, we’ve taken good care of pets before. Are you ready to get changed?”

In answer, I took off the loose top I’d thrown over things to be street legal and slipped off my skirt and underwear. That left me in just a corset that I thought I looked cute in. It was a simple underbust corset in narrow gray and black stripes, and it didn’t constrain my movement much at all, which made it perfect.

Pet play isn’t like being a furry where you wear a big fursuit. (Not that I have anything against furries.) It’s usually just enough to get you into the proper headspace. The headspace, feeling like you’re an animal, that’s the point. You regress to something simpler and more primal, becoming a pet for your owner. In return, you had confidence that they would take care of you. It wasn’t normally a sexual thing, but it could lead to a really powerful D/s connection, and tonight we were more interested in trying to connect than specifically in having sex.

I had always identified as a bunny and not as something like a kitten or puppy. I couldn’t even tell you exactly why, it was sort of like a sexual orientstion or something -- some things just feel right, others don’t. Being a bunny just felt right in a way that puppy and kitty play simply didn’t.

Once my clothes were off, I slipped on my ears and my front paws. This was good quality cosplay stuff that I’d bought before I was broke rather than cheap halloween costume gear. They were made from high-quality fake fur and Fortunately, it didn’t take up much space, so I’d managed to hang onto it. My paws were designed to be like actual rabbit feet, minus the claws. Which is to say, they were a lot like mittens minus the thumb -- with very little articulation or control of the individual “fingers” -- and they helped me stay in a headspace where I couldn’t just use my hands for things.

When I was done changing, I was down on all fours where I belonged now.

“That’s a good bunny girl,” Jon said. “Do you want help with your tail?”

I just nodded. I had stopped talking as I was changing, and started entering the right headspace. When I’m a bunny I don’t talk. I don’t sit in a chair like a person, I don’t read things or reason about things. I react more primally to what’s happening and mostly just feel. I can still understand and react to words, but I don’t really think about them in the same way. If something comes up where I need to, I can choose to come back out of it and talk again, but it’s an actual mental adjustment, something that takes some effort.

Jon gestured to Lissa, and she got behind me with my bunny tail. It was mounted to a decent-sized butt plug, which was comfortable for me and did a good job of holding the tail on. Plus it gave me a nice full feeling that I liked. I moaned a little as she slipped it in.

“That’s a good bun,” Lissa said. She smiled as she playfully smacked my ass. “Do you want a treat?”

I turned around and went to her. She gave me a baby carrot to munch on, and stroked me. It was nice and friendly, and I moved up close to her where she could pet me all over.

Jon pulled out his keys and tossed them in front of me. Like a lots of bunnies, I liked to play with simple but interesting toys, and I nudged the around with my nose for a little bit. After that, I picked them up in my mouth and tossed them a little bit back toward Jon. It wasn’t very far or very hard, just a simple little toss. The kind of thing some rabbits like to do that I sort of connected with. Jon gave me a baby carrot, picked up the keys, and lightly threw them back towards me. We played a little game of tossing them back and forth for a few minutes. Finally I felt like flopping down on my side, and Jon took that as a cue to give me some snuggling and petting which was really nice.

After a few minute of that, Lissa got out a big comforter that they had apparently brought. It was really cool that they had listened to me talk about what kinds of things I liked to do as a bunny, because burrowing in comforters is the best -- as much fun as playing in a box fort. So I dug my way underneath it and just sort of played for a while, batting at it with my paws and rolling around underneath it. Jon and Lissa just let me be for a while, which was sweet and showed that they could be good pet owners. Some folks get really bored at the fact that a lot of pet play isn’t about them and would try to recenter things on kinds of play that was more interactive. Interactive play can be part of pet play for sure, but a sensitive owner understands and enjoys having a pet that does some playing just on their own and is happy just to enjoy taking it all in. Clearly that was Jon and Lissa, so things were looking really good for this possible relationship.

After a it I dug my way out of the comforter and started sniffing around a bit, and Jon took it as his cue to invite me up on the couch. Being allowed on the furniture sometimes was a really nice treat for a rabbit. I jumped up and laid across Jon’s lap, still on all fours. Jon started cuddling me and stroking me as Lissa moved from a club chair to the other end of the couch behind me, cuddling me as well. She also played with my tail a bit, with me periodically making soft gasps in response and wiggling my hind end at her.

It was still quiet enough in the club that a naked bunny girl in a well-trafficked part of the space attracted a certain amount of attention. I was vaguely aware of that, but it was kind of nice. I had a pretty strong feeling of belonging to Jon and Lissa at the time, and if anything, I felt proud of being shown off like that.

As I said, it wasn’t a sexual feeling, but it was something else really primal, something many submissives can feel pretty hard, where you feel safe and taken care of and loved. It’s a wonderful, powerful feeling, and the fact that the feeling of being loved and of belonging to someone was only temporary -- I definitely hadn’t been accepted as theirs over any kind of longer term -- didn’t put a damper on how I felt at all. It just felt right.

After quite a while of this -- I lose complete track of time when I’m a bunny, so I don’t really know how long, but maybe an hour or two of bunny time total? -- Jon told me it was time to start coming back to personspace. He gave me a big hug as a started stretching and shaking my head, trying to bring myself back to my senses. It’s not the easiest transition to make, but being held definitely helps.

Finally I felt like I was back and I slipped off the ears and the paws. “Hey.” I tried out words again, and it seemed like they were working now.

“Hey there. You’re back.” Jon smiled at me.

i blinked a couple of times to be sure. “Yeah, I think I am.”

“That was wonderful!”

“For me too. Yeah.” I was still a little bit spacey, but talking was helping me shake that off.

“You’re a fun bunny to play with,” Lissa added. As she did, she spun my tail half a turn, making me jump and squeal just a little bit. She giggled in response and I looked back at her and smiled. It was all in good fun. Jon looked at her and gestured, and Lissa got up and scurried off. I took the opportunity to slowly sit back up on the couch next to Jon, careful to sit just right so that it didn’t jam my tail up my butt uncomfortably.

Lissa reappeared a minute later with a cup of water for me. I thanked her and started drinking it down as she sat back down next to me, her skin up against me and her hand on my shoulder. Contact felt good. The water was also really good -- whenever I come back from a different headspace, I get really thirsty.

I was kind of lost in my own little world when I was in bunny headspace, but as I reemerged, I looked around and saw that the crowd had gotten a little bigger and that I apparently had some admirers. No one was tacky enough to stare, but I could definitely tell that people were at least glancing my way with interest. I smiled back. As long as folks were polite, I liked an audience.

We didn’t talk too much as I finished reacclimating. Then Jon finally asked if I was still up for something else or if I was spent.

“No, I definitely think I could do something else. Why, what did you have in mind?”

“Well, I did bring my whip. It seems like it would be a shame to bring it all the way here and not use it.” Lissa smirked as he said it.

I laughed. “Well, ok, when you put it that way, it really would be a shame to disappoint it like that.”

“Perfect.” He grinned. “How do you feel about the St. Andrew’s Cross?”

“Oh, sure, that would be great,” I said, as Lissa clapped her hands excitedly.

The area was set up with play space in the middle of the room, and there were some nice toys tucked away against the wall in case someone wanted to use them. One of them was a St. Andrew’s Cross, which is an elongated X-shaped cross tall enough to secure a person’s arms stretched out above their head and their legs spread apart below them.

As I looked around, there was an older same-sex couple doing a scene where one woman was bent over a sawhorse while her top was beating her with this big purple and black flogger. She was moaning as the thuds landed and they both seemed really into it. Other than that, there wasn’t much going on right now. It was really a mixed bag in terms of how much went on on a weeknight.