Easter Bunnies (Patreon)

There I stood in the doorway leading to my backyard, arms crossed, slight grin on my face. My bunny ears drooped annoyingly downwards so I finally decided to remove them. The fluffy little tail however…

I watched as you waddled across my yard in your oversized bunny onesie that was already too small. Last year it was loose on you and now the buttons were straining to hold your massive tank of a gut. You huffed and puffed your way to each colorful egg. Last year it was all just candy but this year I had a better idea. Easter candy, gummy edibles, and mini shots to make it ten times the fun. You gobbled and guzzled greedily as I watched.

“Hop like a little bunny, tubby!” I commanded. You glanced back at me with a look of reluctance but you carried on, hopping sloppily yet merrily around to each egg. Now you really were winded. I chuckled to myself while you leaned against a tree to catch your breath. “You’ve got…four more. Keep looking!” The look on your face was priceless. Your stubbornness kept you going even though I knew you were growing tired. A true fatty always keeps going for another taste.

I heard three more eggs being cracked open then you scarfing down the snacks. Your fat round ass bouncing and jiggling in your onesie as you reached the final one that was resting on a tree branch just out of your reach. Your pathetic hopping was comical. You quickly gave up and pouted for a second. I laughed while you forced your body up and down again trying to reach the treasured egg. “Use your head silly!” You turned back around and huffed at me like the brat you are. You pondered over it for a minute then I saw you get an idea. “There you go…” I encouraged, while you grabbed a smaller limb of the tree and pulled the branch down. You popped the egg open and it was another edible. I smiled knowing full well you were going to be mine for the rest of the day. High, drunk, and ready to get your fill.

You waddled up to my porch, a bead of sweat trailing down the side of your face. “Get a little workout in did you?” I tease. You fan your face and proceed to plop your fat ass down on my porch swing making it creak and groan under your weight. “I wonder how much more food I can stuff inside of you until that swing gives out…” You look up at me a bit uneasily. “I’d say it would collapse when you get to six hundred…” I smile wickedly. “Are you ready for more?” I ask. You lean back into the swing trying to not seem so ridiculously out of shape, stifling the fact that you are still out of breath just by walking up to the porch.

I step out of the doorway and fan the aroma lingering in the kitchen. “Come now plump bunny…let’s get you settled on the couch before you’re stuck out here.” I help you to your feet again and walk you towards the couch. You goofily lose track of where you’re going and redirect yourself to the oven. “Mmm…” You bend over to try and look behind the glass. “Ah!-” I spank your blubbery ass with a wooden spoon. “Not yet, bunny pig…”

You stand back up rubbing your sore rump and whimper pathetically. “Couch. Now. I’m not picking you up off the floor when all of those edibles kick in.” You stomp one foot down and grumble. As soon as you turn around I quickly swat your fat ass again. “EEP!” Your shrill cry makes me smile and I gently push you in the direction of the living room. “Couch!” My voice now thunderous and intimidating. You squeak yet again and hasten your pace, rotating and hurling your corpulent body down lazily. I can hear the couch frame crackle from your mass. “Now, what does my fat piggy bunny do best?” I yell from the kitchen. “Oh-” I hear you mumble and re-adjust yourself on the couch into a laying position. “Good.” I praise. You let out a big sigh, and by the sound of the relaxation in its tone, I can tell you will not be leaving that couch anytime soon.

I put my bunny print apron back on and wash my hands. The timer dings on the oven and I grab my pastel colored oven mitts. As soon as I open the oven a wave of heat blows towards me followed by the smell of lasagna. I place the huge tray on the stovetop to let it cool. I set another tray of garlic bread in place where the lasagna was and shut the oven door. I can hear you giggling childishly in the living room as I continue to ready the feast. “Something funny, chuckles?” I ask adding extra parmesan cheese atop the lasagna. You laugh wildly and I can hear you attempting to roll yourself off the couch. “Ah-! Don’t you EVEN get off that couch.” I smile as I can hear you re-thinking your decision. “Oop-!” You whisper to yourself followed by a loud thump. “That's better.” I remind you.

I start the timer again for the garlic bread and head into the living room where I see my obese rabbit stuck on the couch, high, tipsy, and bubbly. “Perfect…” I say under my breath but loud enough for you to hear. “Hm?” You look up at me while I hover over you. Your mouth hangs open at the site of my tits and belly in my tight little black bunny suit. “Like what you see, bunny?” I ask. You nod brainlessly. “Your meal is almost done…but perhaps you could go for dessert again?” You lick your lips gazing at me. Lustful and greedy you make grabby hands at my body. “Hmm…do I think you were a good enough bun today?” I pretend to ponder teasingly. “You huff, make an angry pouty face, and nod your head quickly. Your chin and cheeks jiggle making it all the better. “I suppose you were..”

I saunter around the couch and place myself over your lap, straddling your hips. Your enormous belly nearly pushes me away so I heave it up and wobble it. “My my pig- I mean…bunny…” Your face changes to a bright red as soon as the word ‘pig’ escapes my mouth. “You’re getting quite big..” I slap your belly, the fabric taking most of the hit. “You know…this DID fit last year. Remember?” I jiggle your belly again, watching the fat flow like ocean waves. The buttons now straining to contain such mass I slip my finger under one. “These buttons are so tight…they might just pop right off tonight.” I gaze up at you, your eyes wide, you squirm in arousal. I reach my hand up to your face and pinch your cheek. “What a plump little bunny…” My hand slides up the side of your round gut and I grab a handful of your squishy arm fat. “Don’t worry, I’ll do all the work tonight so you don’t lose a single ounce from these soft arms.” You giggle, higher than a kite and blushing from my words.

“Ready for dessert?” I ask knowing full well the answer to my question is going to be ‘yes’.

“Mmmhm!” You nod your head excitedly. I get up from your lap and you whine a fake whine as I walk away. “Don’t cry you big baby, I’m getting your dessert…” I snap back. As I remove the cake from the fridge and set it on the counter to get a plate, a better idea pops up into my head. I remove the plastic lid revealing a rich black forest cake with chocolate and cherry drizzle, whipped cream for the finishing touch. “I hope you’re ready for this…” I chime carrying it back to the couch. You look up at me, eyes nearly shimmering with excitement. “I don’t want to do any dishes tonight. So bunny, you’ll just have to gobble this down without spoon or fork.” You tilt your head a bit in confusion and I hop back onto your lap with the cake resting on your gut. You sit up slightly and I push my fingers into the mushy cake, crumbs falling around my hand and onto your white outfit. “Uh-” Concerned you begin to speak but I speedily start shoveling cake into your mouth. “Nope- no speaking. Only cake.” You moan, baked and content. I watch your lips smack and work the cake down. “Very good…” I praise raising another handful of cake up to your mouth.

Raring for more you bite into the spongy rich dessert getting frosting and cherry drizzle all down your chin and front. “I should have made you put on a piggy onesie instead…” You grunt and moan again. Handful after handful gone. “I know this outfit isn’t going to last even another month…so I plan on retiring it after tonight bun.” Your eyebrows furrow and you look up at me. “You heard me. We’re trashing this tonight. You’re going to pop the buttons off of this and make a mess of yourself for me.” You whine again, I wrap my hand around your tubby neck. “And you’re going to love every bit of it.” I growl.

The timer suddenly goes off from the oven. Garlic bread is done but the cake I have before me is not. “Hurry pig-I mean…bun..” I begin shoving cake into you rapidly. Pushing more into you watching you struggle to keep up. “Hurry now, don’t want to burn the garlic bread love.” You choke a little to try and gobble the rest down. You moan lightly between bites and I press my hand into your stomach measuring how full you are. “Good job…I’ve trained you well haven’t I?” You nod in agreement. At that, two more handfuls await while you finish up the rest in my hand. Your mouth is surrounded by a thick chocolate mess and you try your best to lick it up but your pathetic attempts fail. I press into you again, your stomach still soft and pliable. The excitement of just knowing I’ll be able to stuff more food into you takes over and I quickly grab another handful and ram it into your mouth. “More…” I whisper knowing how much that word truly gets you going.

You whimper submissively, high, powerless, and practically immobilized. I’ve won, yet again. You sigh and gulp followed by a loud burp. “Good, make more room in there for me..” I whisper doing my best to keep you hungry and greedy. “One more bite of cake tubby…” I push the last bite past your lips and watch you wearily gobble it down. “Good job…well done chubby bunny…ready for more?” You groggily nod your head but suddenly your eyes widen. “Huh?!” You slop your tongue over your lips and tilt your head like a curious puppy. “Did my fat blitzed bunny forget about the main course?” I tease. Your eyes glance down at your belly, which is getting full, but not there yet.

“Mmm…maybe later?” You question me. I grin and begin grinding on you in circles all while both hands are on your wide round gut. “Mmmh- maybe-uh…” You look down, flushed. I can feel your arousal growing. “Maybe…what again?” I ask prying the correct answer out of you. “Maybe…n-now?” You reply with uncertainty. “Good answer.” I slap your fat gut to watch it ripple as I bend my legs to unmount your lap. “Now bun…I want you on your hands and knees on the rug in there.” I can hear you moaning as if you were in agony. “Don’t make me come in there…” I stop what I’m doing to hear the hasty shuffle…well attempted haste. All I can hear coming from the living room are your sighs, grunts, and groans again as you shift your body in an upright position, not even standing yet. “I’m getting your trough ready…hurry up!” I slap spoonfuls of lasagna into a long customized ceramic trough labeled ‘pig’. I break little pieces of garlic bread off and place them around the lasagna, finishing it off by mixing it all together then adding more cheese on top. “I hope you’re ready…”

I hear you fake crying for a second, whining and huffing trying to stand up, your fat cake filled gut proving to be an anchor. I smile to myself knowing exactly how to get you to the floor. “If I don’t hear those little hooves-I mean…feet, hit the floor…you’re getting the collar!” The room goes quiet as I slop more food into your trough. “HOP! BUNNY!” My voice booms, I hear you making a small peep then a sassy growl follows. At that, I quickly grab your pink collar and leash from behind my door. Your shiny pink bedazzled tag reading ‘Piggy’. Just by hearing the collar and tag jingle I can tell you’re growing excited. I listen closely and hear a little squee noise coming from you.

I storm into the living room and place myself directly in front of you. Bashful, you peek up at me, struggling to hide a nervous grin. “What did I say? I believe you were to be at your placement, on all fours, correct?” You giggle under your sleeves. “Y-yes…” I clear my throat. “And I see you didn’t do as I asked. Neck. Let me see your neck.” You move your chubby arms out of the way of your face and I wrap and lock your collar on. “Now…you will do as I say.” The click of the leash being attached gets your attention and you sit up for me obediently. “Pets belong on the floor.” I yank lightly and your stout body practically gives in to me dropping to the floor. “Walk.” I command.

I turn away from you, leash in hand tightly, leading you to your special feeding rug. “Good little bun…” Your hands and knees are met by a soft cream colored rug. You look up at me, eyes red and dull from being high and drunk. You pant like a damn dog for a minute and flop your torso over so you’re in a half assed sitting position. “Good. Now wait.” I head back to the kitchen to fetch your slop. I grab a wine cooler as well to ensure you’re still tipsy. As I enter the living room I look to see you still sitting there exactly how you were. However, the buttons of your onesie strain from being overstretched and pulled. I just KNOW the middle button is ready to blow. I stare at it, mouth agape thinking about how I will get every single button to pop.

You stare back at me and then down at your button. You goofily tug trying to get the gaps to close but all I can see is your soft belly through the holes. You stop trying to fix it and lean back in a teasing manner. “Oh, you’re going to get it.” I march the ceramic trough over to you, place it on the rug, then tug your leash down forcing your head near the trough. “Now eat.” I command. “Today is a holiday. That means you need to eat extra for me. I want at least four of those buttons to pop off with your blubbery gut exposed.” You bow your head down and into the trough adding more of a mess to your face, chin, and neck. “More.” I demand. You wiggle your rotund ass happily and chow down. I sit at the edge of the couch watching you stuff your fat face for me. My eyes fixated on your belly as it hangs nearly touching the ground. The folds of the fabric slowly becoming flat as you expand with every mouthful. I can’t take it any more and ache to feel your heavy body. I step back over to you and kneel on my knees wrapping both arms around your middle, measuring it with my hands. “Oh, you ARE getting full…” I rock your heavy swollen gut back and forth and listen to your whimpering. “Does it hurt yet? Are you too full already?” I smack your ass and listen to your cries. I shuffle over behind you and check how fat your behind is getting. I stuff my hands between your fat belly roll and your hips. “My God, I might have a multi-award winning prized hog here!”

I wobble your ass cheeks around then stand again. “Someone might think I’m trying to…fatten you up.” I whisper into your ear. Your eyes widen and you instinctively eat faster, slopping thick sauce and cheese further up your cheeks. Then I hear it… “Pop!” I reach underneath you and feel your middle. “Oh….good pet. One button down…” I tickle your stomach and you giggle and wiggle trying to evade it. I slide my hand up your onesie to see how much more the fabric can take. It's tight, your belly stretching it to the max already. “Eat.” I demand again and you continue burying your face in slop. I hold my hand to your gut and can feel the weight of the food pulling your center down. You burp and groan and I hear the stomach churning and grumbling from getting far too full.

“Are you full?” I ask. “Mmm…no…” I slap your gut only to make you wince and burp. “Oh look, more room for piggy.” You carry on being a greedy sow, expanding, and stretching your stomach even further past its limits. “Pop!” Another button flies off and hits the floor. “Good job pig…keep going…” I encourage. You sigh and whine but still plant your face back into the lasagna. I rotate your belly in circles trying to work more air out of you. Between burps and the smacking of lips I listen to the rumbling. Knowing I am filling you up with more food every day makes me so excited. My own personal balloon. Enthusiastically filling themselves for me. “Oh…and I have one more thing for you after this…” You stop eating for a minute only letting out a vocal, “MMmmm???”

“That’s right. And you WILL finish it for me. It’s not much more…” I grin to myself still rubbing and rolling your tightening gut around. The last two buttons hanging on for dear life. “Almost done?” I ask impatiently. “Mm-....yes.” You answer with a mouthful. “Is it good?” I ask, waiting for validation. “Yes m-Mistress!” I smile and nod to myself. “Come on you stupid fucking button…” I whisper. “I’m-...-d-done!” I can hear a loud gasp come from you and another burp. “Very good…now we need to get these last two buttons to pop.” You moan and fake cry for a minute in resistance. “Up. Recliner. Now.” I order and help you to your fat swollen feet.

You practically roll yourself into the oversized recliner and let out another loud burp. Then suddenly another button flies off and onto the couch. “Yes…” I whisper eagerly heading back to the kitchen to grab your last snack. I open the fridge and hear you adjusting yourself as you’re uncomfortably full, yet ready for more. “My my…you really didn’t fight back this time did you piggy? You just love being filled don’t you…” I tease walking back over to you. “Alright…finish these four chocolate frosted cupcakes, pop this last button, and I’ll let you take a nap…” You look down at the cupcakes slightly unwilling. “What’s the matter piggy? Full?” You look up at me then back down at the decadent sweets. I rest the tray on your gluttoned gut and slide my sleeve down revealing half of my tit. “Come now…don’t make me put it back on…” Your hands then meet the tray to pop it open, I lower my top just a little more as I watch you pop a cupcake into your mouth.

I lean up as you struggle and you peer down at my cleavage. “Mmmf!” You gobble and gulp the cake down and open your greedy mouth for more. I rub your tight belly, the last button holding on by a thread. “Good…keep going..” I whisper, pushing more of the cakey treat into your salivating mouth. “You’ve done SUCH a good job today eating all of my snacks..” You mindlessly glut yourself and pat your own stomach. I can hear it groaning in protest. “That’s it…do it for Mistress…” You utter a few indistinguishable words and whine in between bites. “Almost done…” I press into your stomach just to hear you cry out. “Aw…too much? Good.” I slide my finger under the last button, your skin pressed tight against it. “Oh…which one will blow first? The button? Or my pet bunny pig?” You shake your head uncertain if you are ready to give up. “What’s that? You need something to wash it down with?” I get up eagerly and race to the kitchen to retrieve the funnel. I can hear you sighing and moaning sleepily. Hornily…

“Come now…you aren’t full yet! I know just how much I can pack inside of you…” You groan and burp again, the recliner creaking under your weight. “You’re almost done…” I reassure you. I step back into the living room lively as ever. “Alright, be a good pet and drink this all down for me…” With your mouth hanging open I place the funnel inside. Your lips seal the gaps between. I begin to pour heavy whipping cream down the funnel and watch you drink vehemently. “That's it…keep guzzling for me…” My eyes fixed on your belly, damn near round like a beach ball, that button fighting for its life. “Just a little bit more…keep going…” a shrill whine can be heard from your throat but you keep chugging anyways. Your hands petting the sides of your belly in attempts to soothe yourself soon start reaching up towards me for mercy. “One…last..little…” As soon as I empty the last of the carton down the funnel, your last button finally gives way and zips across the room with lightning speed.

I empty the rest into you and run my fingertips across your soft but taut exposed belly. You gasp for air and flop your arms down at your sides lazily. “Very good…” I praise lowering my top for you. You pout and wave a weak hand towards my tits smacking them lightly. “Did I wear you out?” I ask. You nod sleepily. “Good. Take a nap.” I will clean you up. I step away for some wet wipes fully satisfied with the damages I’ve done from the Easter feast.