Ok, so the rabbit surely “dated” himself with the obscure hippie reference, but I can’t help it… that little ditty has been going through my head all day.
Right, so I’m back at this Legends place to see Ms. Eden. I’m greeted by yet another yummy receptionist (seriously, where do they get them all???) who teases me by wiggling her tail feather in my direction – I wanted to tell her that after I finish “wrecking” Ms. Eden for the next week or two, I’d be back to take a bite out of that little apple of hers, but I wasn’t sure she would appreciate the humour… nor understand how completely empty a “threat” that would have been. In any case, she’s very sweet to me.
It must have been a little quiet there, ‘cause I pretty much had my choice of venues (not the swing room, please!) for our play time. Perhaps it was the novelty of seeing an actual “bed” bed, but I chose the one she called the “dom room”.
Ok, so I guess I didn’t really pay attention to a lot of the surroundings beyond the bed and the big three-faucet shower at first… or listen close enough when she kept saying “dom” in “dom room”… but after she left and I cleaned up, I noticed a few things that surprised me. First, while drying, I discovered there is a structure attached to the far wall. The colouring is somewhat camouflaged with the surroundings, but on further inspection, it turns out that it is a big cross (not the “Jesus” type… the big “X” type), with restraints on each end. Right. Ok.
Then I turn to hang my towel on the hook to the right of the shower door… only, the hook is currently occupied with a big, nasty black leather “whipping thing” (it had many “whips” in it, so I’m not sure what you call it, but it is pretty obvious what you use it for… hence “whipping thing”…). Right. Ok.
And as I examine the “whipping thing” a little closer, the peripheral vision picks up yet another structure hiding behind the shower wall. I don’t get it at first… it looks like bars. It looks like… oh, no way… sure as my backside is furry, it’s a freakin’ cage.
Sorry, but cages are not all that popular in the rabbit community.
And while I’m (cautiously) sniffing around near the cage, I notice next to it is a big serving spoon, and what looks like a rice steamer. I suppose that if you’re going to capture someone, it’s only stands to reason that you’re going to have to feed them something every now and again (and yet I muse to wonder who is stuck with picking up the inevitable pellets to follow)…. I know that I’m a simple rabbit, and this stuff is not for me… but everyone has their “thing”, so to speak, and if being fed rice and whipped while strapped to a cross before being returned to confinement is yours, these ladies have you covered…
Right, well my musings over the environment come to an abrupt end when Ms. Eden walks in. Heck, now I don’t even care about the cage. She’s wearing a two piece “meshy” blue thing and some serious boots, but more importantly, she’s sporting a beaming smile, and I’m really happy to see her.
*thumpthumpthumpthumpthump*
She comes in and greets me, and once again, I revert from being my usual idiot self to being a full and complete, card-carrying, helmet-needing, perma-drooling ‘tard. Here’s an example of how the conversation went:
Eden: “So, how was your New Years?”
Rabbit: “I LIKE… STUFF!”
Eden: “Did you go anywhere?”
Rabbit: “I BUY STUFF! SOMETIMES… I DO STUFF! YAAAAY!”
Eden: “Do you want a backrub?”
Rabbit: “DO YOU LIKE STUFF?”
You get the drift. And I’m like this ALL session. I’m surprised at how well she handled it. Ms. Eden must have a lot of practice from turning fellas turn into ‘tards all the time.
So, as the only one in the room with a functioning brain, Ms. Eden recognizes that she needs to be the one to make the decisions, and she decides that we need to start with massages. I am first, so she straddles my back and goes first. She’s much softer on me this time, and it’s very nice. Then she spins around, and begins working on my hind parts… and, while doing so… she smacks my backside. First once. Then a couple of times. Then a lot!
It doesn’t bother me… and it doesn’t hurt… but it doesn’t do much for me, either. Except make me worry a little bit about the “whipping thing” on the hook a few feet away. ‘Cause THAT isn’t cool. And I’m not sure if she thinks that ***I*** want this (on account of being in this particular room), but she sure seems to be enjoying it (to the extent that she would enjoy anything about playing with me, obviously) – which is rewarding in itself – so get down with your bad self, Ms. Eden Hippie, and go crazy on your bunny-backside bongos….
It’s my turn next, and I’m clumsy and awkward, but I try hard (‘cause it’s fun) and she puts up with me. Until she pops up, spins around, and gives me a big smile. Right. Ok.
So, here’s where things get a little frenzied. If you’ve ever played “squeak toy tug-o-war” with a pitbull, you’ll know it’s lots of fun, but at the same time, a little bit dangerous (especially if you don’t do EXACLY what you’re supposed to do)… and you’ll have a little bit of an idea what it’s like. Only it’s way more fun with Ms. Eden. WAAAAAAY more fun. And, technically, YOU are the squeak toy.
*thumpthumpthumpthumpthump*
Once she breaks me completely, and I give my last squeak, she pops out to get us some water (which gives me some time for my vision to return). She sits with me for a minute or two and keeps me company (which is even harder now, because the ‘tardism is now completely off the scale). She then takes me to the shower and cleans me, gets me dressed, gives me a sweet little peck or two, and sends me stumbling on my way.
I’m still stumbling.
Super-sweet lady… I am very fond of Ms. Eden.
Happy thumping, all!
Right, so I’m back at this Legends place to see Ms. Eden. I’m greeted by yet another yummy receptionist (seriously, where do they get them all???) who teases me by wiggling her tail feather in my direction – I wanted to tell her that after I finish “wrecking” Ms. Eden for the next week or two, I’d be back to take a bite out of that little apple of hers, but I wasn’t sure she would appreciate the humour… nor understand how completely empty a “threat” that would have been. In any case, she’s very sweet to me.
It must have been a little quiet there, ‘cause I pretty much had my choice of venues (not the swing room, please!) for our play time. Perhaps it was the novelty of seeing an actual “bed” bed, but I chose the one she called the “dom room”.
Ok, so I guess I didn’t really pay attention to a lot of the surroundings beyond the bed and the big three-faucet shower at first… or listen close enough when she kept saying “dom” in “dom room”… but after she left and I cleaned up, I noticed a few things that surprised me. First, while drying, I discovered there is a structure attached to the far wall. The colouring is somewhat camouflaged with the surroundings, but on further inspection, it turns out that it is a big cross (not the “Jesus” type… the big “X” type), with restraints on each end. Right. Ok.
Then I turn to hang my towel on the hook to the right of the shower door… only, the hook is currently occupied with a big, nasty black leather “whipping thing” (it had many “whips” in it, so I’m not sure what you call it, but it is pretty obvious what you use it for… hence “whipping thing”…). Right. Ok.
And as I examine the “whipping thing” a little closer, the peripheral vision picks up yet another structure hiding behind the shower wall. I don’t get it at first… it looks like bars. It looks like… oh, no way… sure as my backside is furry, it’s a freakin’ cage.
Sorry, but cages are not all that popular in the rabbit community.
And while I’m (cautiously) sniffing around near the cage, I notice next to it is a big serving spoon, and what looks like a rice steamer. I suppose that if you’re going to capture someone, it’s only stands to reason that you’re going to have to feed them something every now and again (and yet I muse to wonder who is stuck with picking up the inevitable pellets to follow)…. I know that I’m a simple rabbit, and this stuff is not for me… but everyone has their “thing”, so to speak, and if being fed rice and whipped while strapped to a cross before being returned to confinement is yours, these ladies have you covered…
Right, well my musings over the environment come to an abrupt end when Ms. Eden walks in. Heck, now I don’t even care about the cage. She’s wearing a two piece “meshy” blue thing and some serious boots, but more importantly, she’s sporting a beaming smile, and I’m really happy to see her.
*thumpthumpthumpthumpthump*
She comes in and greets me, and once again, I revert from being my usual idiot self to being a full and complete, card-carrying, helmet-needing, perma-drooling ‘tard. Here’s an example of how the conversation went:
Eden: “So, how was your New Years?”
Rabbit: “I LIKE… STUFF!”
Eden: “Did you go anywhere?”
Rabbit: “I BUY STUFF! SOMETIMES… I DO STUFF! YAAAAY!”
Eden: “Do you want a backrub?”
Rabbit: “DO YOU LIKE STUFF?”
You get the drift. And I’m like this ALL session. I’m surprised at how well she handled it. Ms. Eden must have a lot of practice from turning fellas turn into ‘tards all the time.
So, as the only one in the room with a functioning brain, Ms. Eden recognizes that she needs to be the one to make the decisions, and she decides that we need to start with massages. I am first, so she straddles my back and goes first. She’s much softer on me this time, and it’s very nice. Then she spins around, and begins working on my hind parts… and, while doing so… she smacks my backside. First once. Then a couple of times. Then a lot!
It doesn’t bother me… and it doesn’t hurt… but it doesn’t do much for me, either. Except make me worry a little bit about the “whipping thing” on the hook a few feet away. ‘Cause THAT isn’t cool. And I’m not sure if she thinks that ***I*** want this (on account of being in this particular room), but she sure seems to be enjoying it (to the extent that she would enjoy anything about playing with me, obviously) – which is rewarding in itself – so get down with your bad self, Ms. Eden Hippie, and go crazy on your bunny-backside bongos….
It’s my turn next, and I’m clumsy and awkward, but I try hard (‘cause it’s fun) and she puts up with me. Until she pops up, spins around, and gives me a big smile. Right. Ok.
So, here’s where things get a little frenzied. If you’ve ever played “squeak toy tug-o-war” with a pitbull, you’ll know it’s lots of fun, but at the same time, a little bit dangerous (especially if you don’t do EXACLY what you’re supposed to do)… and you’ll have a little bit of an idea what it’s like. Only it’s way more fun with Ms. Eden. WAAAAAAY more fun. And, technically, YOU are the squeak toy.
*thumpthumpthumpthumpthump*
Once she breaks me completely, and I give my last squeak, she pops out to get us some water (which gives me some time for my vision to return). She sits with me for a minute or two and keeps me company (which is even harder now, because the ‘tardism is now completely off the scale). She then takes me to the shower and cleans me, gets me dressed, gives me a sweet little peck or two, and sends me stumbling on my way.
I’m still stumbling.
Super-sweet lady… I am very fond of Ms. Eden.
Happy thumping, all!
