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Bunny, Part 16 - *** 101, Ivan the Terrible, and Missy the Mother Goddess


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Posted (edited)

Sorry for the delay, guys! Life, and all...

I’ll be posting this intro for a bit; So, we are getting into the meat of the book now — which means there’s some new characters being introduced, and that means more dialogue, and not always leaping straight into the sex bit.  We are also getting into some difficult family territory as well, which may or may not be interesting to people.  That doesn’t mean the sex isn’t happening, it just means the scene and character  building is a thing, and we may take a bit to lead up to it.  I hope you all stay interested. This is based on my life, and the things that made me how I am, so of course it’s interesting to ME — and sometimes ***ful, even. As always, thank you for reading, and for your wonderful comments! 

I’ve gotten the story from Jake about what happened with our father, and taken a day to process it. None of what he’s told me is a real surprise — and by now, my rage has been replaced by a cold sort of detachment. My usual feeling of repugnance for our father, Ivan, whom I haven’t called “Dad” to his face since I was 17, has replaced that anger, and I’m ready to speak with him. The entire conversation, I keep my voice modulated. He feeds on emotion, and I’m not giving him a single morsel. I want the bastard crawling on the inside.


”Zo! Well, this is a surprise. We’re just about to go to church…”

“Is it? Ivan? A surprise? Jake’s here. I suppose that’s a surprise, too…”

“Oh. Well, no. I mean he is your brother, Zo. He’s your family…your responsibility. And can’t you call me Dad?

“No, I cannot, you pathetic sick bastard. And I suppose any responsibility of yours went out the window when you kicked him out. In case you’ve forgotten, Ivan, he’s only seven***.”

“Well, he wasn’t following the house rules…”

“Do the house rules encompass him trying to stop you from beating the shit out of and…God knows what else to his half-***, you maggot?”


“You piece of utter shit. And he told me that you saw him on the street on your way to your precious church and didn’t stop the car. He was living on the fucking street, you irresponsible asshole. You think he’s going to ever stop using if he’s on the street? The whole idea of him going back home to stay with you was so he could stay clean after I sent him to rehab. Oh, and thanks for your contribution to that, by the way. I really could have used some help. But I should be used to doing this on my own by now.”

“That’s not fair. I fed him and put a roof over his head out here. With no help from you.”

“He’s your KID, you narcissistic bastard. You’re lucky you aren’t in jail for child ***. Do you tell your church buddies all about what you do to your wife and kids? You hypocrite. Thank God that woman left you. I hope to Christ she gets full custody of those kids — especially your daughter— and you never see them again.” I hang up the phone and snap it shut, placing it on the windowsill next to the ashtray and light a cigarette.

Jake is staring at me, stunned. 

“Damn, Sis. You’re really scary, sometimes.”

And people wonder why I’m so good at verbal *** when I Domme…This is why. I just picture Ivan’s face in front of me. It makes it really easy. 

“Yeah, well, he’s a piece of shit.” I stalk into the kitchen and grab the bottle of wine from the fridge and pour myself a glass. I glance at Jake and wince. Way to set an example, Zoe. I sigh and take a sip, putting the bottle back and leaning against the counter for a moment, gathering my thoughts. I pick up my phone again, and dial my friend Missy’s number.


Jake and Clover and her little 10 year-old brother Ian are laughing and messing around with the CD player by the grill, as if it hasn’t been two years since they’ve all seen each other, while Missy and I sip margaritas in her huge backyard in Evanston, catching up.

“So, what,” Missy says, releasing a plume of smoke over our heads, “He kicked him out because Jake busted him for hitting his little ***?”

“That seems to be the gist of it,” I reply, sparing her the more sordid details of our little family dynamic and taking another sip of my drink, eyes on the two ***agers and the gangly Ian.

“Fucking Hell…”


“So, shit, girl…it’s been too long. What’s it take, tragedy and the kids being back together for me to get you to come over? What are you doing with yourself these days? Are you still…” she makes a vague gesture with her hand.

I laugh. “Yeah, still…” I wave my hand back at her. 

She shrugs, pouring us more drinks. “None of my business, as long as you’re happy. You still with that Nick guy?”

“Yep, as ‘with’ each other as we’ll ever be. He’s been a great help with Jake. He’s really good with him, actually.”

“Yeah, I remember that. So, look – any time Jake wants to come over here, and hang out – Clover and Ian have really missed him like crazy. We were hoping maybe he’d want to spend a few nights over here, actually…”

“Really? I mean…sure, if you’re up for that. I have to tell you, though, I just dumped out a stash of his pills. Which means he’s still actively using. So, you know, just put your shit up, watch the booze bottles…”

She shrugs. “I can do that. We’re happy to have him. And if you’re not working or whatever, you can camp out too. Watch movies, whatever. I miss the old days, girl. Next door isn’t the same without you guys.”

“Yeah…I miss that, too.”

Missy and I were neighbors a few years back, when M and I were still together. Jake and Clover went to the same school together just down the street, after I took Jake and fled Oahu and Ivan. She was a lifesaver when I was trying to navigate my way through the school system and make friends while dealing with the shellshock of what we’d left behind. She’s the archetypal Earth Mother – with a generous, curvy body and a yard full of neighbors’ kids coming in and out at all times – grabbing snacks and hugs and advice. 

She’s always been here for Jake and I. 

Pink Floyd blasts from the boom box, and the kids start dancing wildly. Missy and I look at each other, and burst out laughing. 

“Since when did we raise a bunch of hippies?” she asks.

“Don’t ask me — I’m strictly a Punk Rock kind of girl.”

For the first time in several years, I spend a “normal” evening doing things that regular families do (because these people are Jake’s and my real family, now) – hanging out in the backyard, listening to tunes, sipping cocktails while the kids hang out, and Missy’s husband grills burgers. Jake is sober, horsing around and laughing like I haven’t seen him do in so long that it almost hurts to watch, it makes me so happy. Because deep down inside, I’m afraid it can’t last. I try to push those thoughts away, because they seem evil of me. In a couple hours, Nick shows up with a six-pack of beer, and it’s almost — if you were to squint and turn your head — as if we were just a normal family, spending a Sunday afternoon together. 

When it gets dark, Missy insists we all camp out overnight – and since it’s a Sunday, neither Nick nor I have anything scheduled — so we happily agree. Also, we want to keep an eye on Jake his first weekend back. Since it’s Spring Break, Clover and Ian don’t have school the next day, and since Missy is a schoolteacher, neither does she. So we all hang out in the yard horsing around until after dark, until the kids decide to head upstairs away from the grownups to do God knows what. Ian wants to show Jake his new card tricks and mason jar herb collection. Clover has an extensive music collection she wants to share. They all barrel upstairs, and we are left in the yard with the lightening bugs, the fire pit, and the booze. 

Being from a normal, suburban background, Nick does this family shit really well. He helps Missy’s husband with the grilling, and they talk literature — Timothy is a professor at Northwestern — while Missy and I talk about the kids. 

“So…” she asks, “are you two ever gonna settle down, make your own babies?” 

I take a drink. “I already have Jake to take care of,” I say. “And Nick and I are happy as we are.” 

“Don’t you want something more stable? Your life seems so, I don’t know, chaotic.” 

“It’s not chaotic,” I laugh. “It’s just not your life.” 

“I suppose so,” she says. “But, if you love each other, why not make it official?

“If we love each other, why ruin it by labeling it and trying to limit and own each other?”

“But — does he sleep with other people? Do you?”

I smile at her tolerantly. For other people, it always seems to come down to this question of sexual fidelity. “Sometimes. Most of the time, we share though.”

“Just women, I bet!” She says, triumphantly.

“Well, Nick’s not Bi. I am. If I want another man…I have my options open. And he’s OK with that,” I say, thinking about our text conversation regarding JC.

“Is he really?” She asks, clearly disbelieving.

“As a matter of fact, I was with this really hot sub the other day…”

“Oh my god, I don’t want to hear any more!” she cries, throwing her hands up dramatically and giving in. “I can’t say I’ll ever understand you guys, but obviously, it seems to work for you. Cheers!”


It’s a pretty damn perfect evening — and after everyone goes to sleep, Nick and I have rough, quietly intense sex on the pull-out bed in the living room with the cats crawling all around us. He grips my thighs hard as he enters me, burying his face in my hair — 

“Take it all out on me,” he whispers, “bite me, Oh, God — harder, scratch me, fuck me up, and don’t you dare call me Daddy tonight…”

I bite his shoulder hard as I can to keep from crying out when I come as he thrusts deep into me over and over…taking me to the edge and back before we finally come together. 

“Sleep, Bunny,” he murmurs into my hair afterwards, his fingers tracing patterns across my belly. “You’re doing the best you can. That’s all you can do. You’re a good ***. And a good mother.”

I turn to look at him silently a long moment, and he looks back, brushing my hair out of my eyes. He leans in to kiss me softly, and I turn into him, my arms and legs folding around him, and we slowly begin to make love — and I realize it’s the first time I’ve ever thought of what our bodies are doing together in those terms. Some time before dawn, we fall asleep in a gentle tangle of limbs. 

We sleep like the dead until the smell of coffee and breakfast and the sound of laughter wakes us the next morning. 


Edited by ReddRabbit

Hi red loving to get to know the family and what's happening love your willpower and loyalty to family I love reading all about it how you defend and help your brother your a hell of a *** love your boyfriend as well he's very loyal and respectful love the way he treats you  keep it going I'm hooked 

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