The Little Pink Bunny

"It's always the shy ones." You hear that statement a lot, or at least I did. But didn't get it, until I really got it.

I took shyness to a new level. I lived in a small town, yet no one would remember my existence there. I think I almost had a boyfriend, and was the friend of a few, but definitely the quiet, weird friend.

Like many others, I swore I would change when I left for college. I could be anyone and do anything, from daydreams to living the dream.

When I got there though...

It was a week before words escaped my mouth for the first time. My new wardrobe was a prisoner of my closet, with some items still trapped in the boxes I had moved them in. My friends were a bunch of interesting people from classes, not that I hung out with, but stalked on social media.

Realistically, I was cute. Had my funny moments. Always been a little too soft and artsy, which is fine, but not really awe-inspiring. I knew there was potential there, but I had my doubts that this girl would ever find it.

You can't move from a pond to an ocean and think you'll become anything other than a smaller fish. So, I was going to spend a few more years in the corner, and after college, I'd make my mark.

That was until I found myself chronically on dating apps and various sites. I felt so popular. I had endless matches and people wanting to know me.

The only catch...

They were all 40+, some obviously married, and even more of them seriously twisted. I had been living with blinders on my whole life. I immediately felt a mix of embarrassment, shame, disgust, and excitement.

The only people who cared about my existence were old, horny men. But I wasn't invisible. And it didn't take long to start liking all four of those feelings.

No matter how crazy, mean, and/or dirty they were, I loved the attention. It quickly stopped bothering me that they were my dad's age, and honestly, I started liking the things being said to me, like a rabbit down her first hole.

Did I leave my apartment and meet any?

No.

Did I start masturbating every evening?

Yes.

I was in a haze of dopamine, and needed it constantly.

First, there were simple chats that never took longer than 15 minutes to become sexual, but I didn't mind. The amount of kinks, fetishes, and fantasies I learned about seemed endless.

Yet, the picture tax that was needed to further most conversations would always trip me up. I was terrified to be seen. But I only had one picture on most dating apps, encircled by friends, and was anonymous in other places, so of course, their curiosity kicked in.

I thought about sending pics from the internet. Found lots of faceless selfies that looked similar enough to me, but decided against it. Finally getting enough of a sexual surge to say fuck it.

That first time I lifted my shirt, and took a picture in my little bathroom mirror, was one of the most thrilling feelings of my life. While I was self-conscious of my petite nature, these Daddies couldn't have complimented me harder.

Didn't matter if they made me feel like a goddess or a slut, every word made me need more.

Within days, I was obliging most requests. I loved knowing they were looking at me, touching themselves, thinking about me, and showing me a little of everything. The addiction was real, their happiness, the biggest drug of all.

Of course, with anything, the need keeps growing. During this time, I found Fetlife, Literotica, and every other site that would pull me further and further into this bottomless pit.

I gradually transitioned from online chats to texts. I was occasionally convinced to listen on the phone, but it took me a while to make a peep back.

Then came my first video chat. I hung up, more than once. Finally, staying on long enough to watch a 52-year-old man cum as I got audibly degraded for my first time. I didn't show anything; just sat there, soaking my shorts, as I watched and listened.

Each day I eased in a little bit. Could keep up with the dirty chats. My pictures got riskier and riskier. I spent hours on the phone, and can only imagine what's been saved of me on video chats.

I got so deep, I couldn't see a way back up to the light anymore. All I could think was, "It's time. I want to meet with a Daddy."

Here was the problem. Online, I was a slut. These guys thought I was down for anything, and I mean anything. I can't even repeat some of the stuff we talked about.

In real life, I had kissed one boy...

While I had an endless album of dick pics, I had never seen one outside of a screen.

I needed to be smart about this. There was the fantasy and then the reality of my situation. I wanted to be the slut who had all those men so excited, but I was little more than a terrified little girl.

It was time to change my strategy and use this as a pro instead of a con. While I loved my current Daddies, I created a persona for myself. Made new accounts on multiple platforms and took the approach of shy, nervous, virgin, instead of the outgoing girl everyone thought I was.

Now, I needed all new pictures that somehow made me look innocent and sexual, and without my face being seen.

In one day, I had an album of maybe 50 pics, but hated them all. Started backing out of the whole idea. I needed a fix.

Like an addict, I went back to messaging one of my Daddies I had gotten too comfortable with, to make me feel better about myself. To get him and me off, so I could relax. I sent him a few of the pics to see what he thought, and got a very hard dick pic in return, which was a great sign.

During our phone session, he reminded me of a butt plug he bought me. Wanted me to try it for the first time while talking to him. I had always been a little nervous and skeptical about putting things in my butt, but I would have said yes to most things in that moment.

Opening the box, I found a little metal plug with a fuzzy bunny tail attached to the end. I way overlubed it and let him watch as I pushed it in for the first time.

I won't lie, I was uncomfortable at first, but honestly, after a minute or two, I actually started to enjoy the feeling of it. Plus, what girl doesn't enjoy seeing a cock jump with a little extra excitement?

It was at that point that I told him the truth about me. I was a virgin. He didn't believe me for a second. I continued to tell him that, in person, I lack confidence and have no idea what I'm doing. My face blushed like I had divulged my darkest secret.

This only further revealed how naive I was. He didn't make fun of me or do anything mean. He loved it more than I could have imagined.

Started calling me his good little bunny, and the two of us touched and moaned our way through some of the strongest orgasms I had seen and experienced, thus far.

At the end of that Facetime, I had more confidence than ever before. And the perfect idea.

Searching online, I found a sexy pink bunny costume, lingerie, and a few other toys and trinkets that fit the motif. Last were the cutest ears on a headband, along with a pink masquerade mask to help me feel more comfortable in pictures.

Once everything arrived, I spent hours trying things on, thinking of cute poses. I almost posted a profile pic five or six times. Finally, I decided on a sexy yet artsy pic of myself. I was wearing a tiny pink nightie that was sheer except for the fluff over my breasts, the matching pink thong, my new favorite ears, and the mysterious yet sensual mask.

The picture was from the doorway. I was on my knees next to the foot of the bed. Fuzzy handcuffs on my wrists, and a pretty pink collar, connected to a leash that rested over a post of the bed.

I know I sound like a nerd, but it captured me flawlessly; the slightest lip bite and scrunched body. My long brown hair draped over my shoulder in a pretty braid. I usually hated my brown eyes, but here they looked so big and curious, yet scared.

Such a nervous girl, sinking under so much sexual tension. I could imagine the thoughts of different Daddies I talked to as they walked through that door. It was perfect.

Most girls don't need to make themselves into a sex vigilante to be confident, but here I was. The Little Pink Bunny.