So, a little birdie told me that Ms. Paige was having herself a Rabbit ‘preciation day (a concept I find as confusing as “Kidney Stone ‘preciation day”, but hey…). Now, I’m not exactly the brightest bulb on the tree, and very recently I was reminded about how unreliable my intuition is – but even I know that if you find out that Ms. Paige wants to ‘preciate you even MORE than she always ‘preciates you… well, you find a way to get your tail in there and get ‘preciated. 
So, I make an appointment, and I arrive at 50th Street Spa a couple of minutes late (f#ck trains, f#ck drivers, and a big tip of the ears to the farmer gentleman who had the decency to let a very needy rabbit in ahead of him). A lovely lady (Ms. Ginger?) greets me, and tucks me into the little waiting room right at the front (when I hear all sorts of clicking of heels on hardwood, I think to myself it sure must be busy today). After only a few minutes, Ms. Ginger comes back to get me, and as we go out into the hallway, wouldn’t you know – there’s a bundle of carrots on the ground, with a note and a string attached to it….
Hmmm. I think some silly huntress thinks that carrots are the bait I came here for….
It’s funny and it’s cute, and I follow as the carrots get dragged down the hall (they got stuck at the doorway of a room, so I suggested pulling a little harder). Turns out they lead to the relocated “dom room”. Predictably, I’m thrilled when the lovely Ms. Paige, in a Santa’s hat and sexy white underthings, pounces in greeting. Unpredictably, I’m further thrilled when three other beautiful women, scantily clad in uniforms identifying them as a group called “Aminal Kontrol”, follow suit….
So, here’s the thing about getting “‘jacked” by four gorgeous women. First, you don’t know where to look, ‘cause there is so much to look at – you are completely overwhelmed by “yummy”. Second, your mind races in about seventeen million different directions. You wonder if you get to play with (and simultaneously disappoint) all of them together; you wonder if you can actually and literally survive an “octo” (three of the Aminal Kontrol ladies, Ms. Ginger, and of course Ms. Paige counts as at LEAST 4…); you wonder if you brought enough coloured paper to adequately thank them all; you think about the thousands of things you’d like to do, and each of the millions of combinations you could do those things in (it would be like playing with Lego, only with much nicer “bumps”…). Thirdly, and perhaps most importantly, you find that eventually you have to DO something. And me? What did I do? Oh, you guys are going to be so proud of me…. What did *I* do?
I f#cking turtled.
Yup. Rico Suavebunny – staring at the opportunity of a lifetime in all of its radiant, buxom glory – panicked, dropped his ears, ducked his head, and completely f#cking froze.
Cool, huh?
So, this bevy of beauties dragged me to the electric chair thingie, tied me up (but, surprisingly, not down), and let me nervously enjoy their company for a few minutes, before they probably thought they should have mercy on me, and leave poor Ms. Paige with the unpleasant duty of providing me her attentions without clothing.
So now it’s just Ms. Paige and I, and it is a little bit uncomfortable, I think. She seems uncertain about how I’m feeling, I think, and of course I’m still stuck in full-on “snapper-head” tortoise mode. She strips me and shows me to the shower (a complicated unit, especially when you’re stunned, and in the end I only manage to figure out how to wash the naughty bits with the side-shooting nozzles), and slips out to change into her Easter ears (I don’t think she wanted to play with a turtlerabbit)….
And then, almost without warning (although entirely expected), the Hornicane hit. From the moment she dragged my mangy butt from the shower, to the moment Ms. Ginger made her push me back in, Ms. Paige attacked me. Me and the bodiless plastic fella (“The General”) that she invited along for when rabbit just wouldn’t be “enough”… which is pretty much all the time, I’m afraid. And there is no “eye” of a Hornicane. There is no break. There is no rest. There is no pause. There is no respite. There is definitely no stop. There isn’t even a “slow”. There is only “get-down, all-out gorilla-tickle” – and I’m not exactly cut out for that (thank God for The General…). And through it all, I think the only thing I had a say in was a veto of the blindfold thing (it had been way to long, and she is way too pretty – no blindfold). This girl is crazy-yummy, super-giving, and I gotta say… boy, did I feel ‘preciated.
*thumpthumpthumpthumpthump*
So, we’re in the shower and talking a little bit while we clean up (just ourselves – I’m sure they had to call FEMA to deal with the room… or what was left of the room), and I find myself reflecting on how wonderful and creative this young lady is, and how unnecessarily kind she has been to me… and that’s not just in the obvious, naughty way. She really went out of her way to make Rabbit ‘preciation day memorable – to great success. And as I try to return a favour and give her back a bit of a lathering, when she turns around wouldn’t you know I find her wings getting in the way….
Thank you Ms. Ginger, and thank you ladies from 50th Street’s Aminal Kontrol – you’re all awesome! Most of all, thank you Ms. Paige. Without any doubt, you are seraph.
Happy thumping, all!
So, I make an appointment, and I arrive at 50th Street Spa a couple of minutes late (f#ck trains, f#ck drivers, and a big tip of the ears to the farmer gentleman who had the decency to let a very needy rabbit in ahead of him). A lovely lady (Ms. Ginger?) greets me, and tucks me into the little waiting room right at the front (when I hear all sorts of clicking of heels on hardwood, I think to myself it sure must be busy today). After only a few minutes, Ms. Ginger comes back to get me, and as we go out into the hallway, wouldn’t you know – there’s a bundle of carrots on the ground, with a note and a string attached to it….
Hmmm. I think some silly huntress thinks that carrots are the bait I came here for….
It’s funny and it’s cute, and I follow as the carrots get dragged down the hall (they got stuck at the doorway of a room, so I suggested pulling a little harder). Turns out they lead to the relocated “dom room”. Predictably, I’m thrilled when the lovely Ms. Paige, in a Santa’s hat and sexy white underthings, pounces in greeting. Unpredictably, I’m further thrilled when three other beautiful women, scantily clad in uniforms identifying them as a group called “Aminal Kontrol”, follow suit….
So, here’s the thing about getting “‘jacked” by four gorgeous women. First, you don’t know where to look, ‘cause there is so much to look at – you are completely overwhelmed by “yummy”. Second, your mind races in about seventeen million different directions. You wonder if you get to play with (and simultaneously disappoint) all of them together; you wonder if you can actually and literally survive an “octo” (three of the Aminal Kontrol ladies, Ms. Ginger, and of course Ms. Paige counts as at LEAST 4…); you wonder if you brought enough coloured paper to adequately thank them all; you think about the thousands of things you’d like to do, and each of the millions of combinations you could do those things in (it would be like playing with Lego, only with much nicer “bumps”…). Thirdly, and perhaps most importantly, you find that eventually you have to DO something. And me? What did I do? Oh, you guys are going to be so proud of me…. What did *I* do?
I f#cking turtled.
Yup. Rico Suavebunny – staring at the opportunity of a lifetime in all of its radiant, buxom glory – panicked, dropped his ears, ducked his head, and completely f#cking froze.
Cool, huh?
So, this bevy of beauties dragged me to the electric chair thingie, tied me up (but, surprisingly, not down), and let me nervously enjoy their company for a few minutes, before they probably thought they should have mercy on me, and leave poor Ms. Paige with the unpleasant duty of providing me her attentions without clothing.
So now it’s just Ms. Paige and I, and it is a little bit uncomfortable, I think. She seems uncertain about how I’m feeling, I think, and of course I’m still stuck in full-on “snapper-head” tortoise mode. She strips me and shows me to the shower (a complicated unit, especially when you’re stunned, and in the end I only manage to figure out how to wash the naughty bits with the side-shooting nozzles), and slips out to change into her Easter ears (I don’t think she wanted to play with a turtlerabbit)….
And then, almost without warning (although entirely expected), the Hornicane hit. From the moment she dragged my mangy butt from the shower, to the moment Ms. Ginger made her push me back in, Ms. Paige attacked me. Me and the bodiless plastic fella (“The General”) that she invited along for when rabbit just wouldn’t be “enough”… which is pretty much all the time, I’m afraid. And there is no “eye” of a Hornicane. There is no break. There is no rest. There is no pause. There is no respite. There is definitely no stop. There isn’t even a “slow”. There is only “get-down, all-out gorilla-tickle” – and I’m not exactly cut out for that (thank God for The General…). And through it all, I think the only thing I had a say in was a veto of the blindfold thing (it had been way to long, and she is way too pretty – no blindfold). This girl is crazy-yummy, super-giving, and I gotta say… boy, did I feel ‘preciated.
*thumpthumpthumpthumpthump*
So, we’re in the shower and talking a little bit while we clean up (just ourselves – I’m sure they had to call FEMA to deal with the room… or what was left of the room), and I find myself reflecting on how wonderful and creative this young lady is, and how unnecessarily kind she has been to me… and that’s not just in the obvious, naughty way. She really went out of her way to make Rabbit ‘preciation day memorable – to great success. And as I try to return a favour and give her back a bit of a lathering, when she turns around wouldn’t you know I find her wings getting in the way….
Thank you Ms. Ginger, and thank you ladies from 50th Street’s Aminal Kontrol – you’re all awesome! Most of all, thank you Ms. Paige. Without any doubt, you are seraph.
Happy thumping, all!
