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Shelly left her workplace earlier than usual for the market to collect the big white rabbit she had purchased yesterday. She hadn’t been able to take the animal with her at the time because its seller had no extra cage to spare.

‘Come tomorrow. I’ll have a nice, strong cage ready for you,’ the elderly Romanian woman with warm grey eyes had promised.

After loading the cage into the back of her car, Shelly journeyed home.

The rabbit was not a pet. Shelly did not have time for pets. The last pet she’d had was a tomcat, and the ruddy thing had run off after four months. Not that she blamed the animal; she hadn’t taken care of it or fed it properly, so it came as no surprise when it disappeared to seek out greener pastures. She blamed her job. Shelly worked for one of London’s largest and most prestigious law firms and she was always so busy she had little time for trivial matters such as feeding a cat or changing its litter box.

Why then had she bought the rabbit? Certainly not to cook it – that would involve killing the thing, gutting it, skinning it, and chopping it to pieces, all of which Shelly could never bring herself to doing.

About a month ago, Terry, her boyfriend of three months, had left her. That’s six men in less than a year. She had to be cursed. There was no other logical explanation. Why else could she not hang on to a decent man?

Because you work all the time, morning till evening, and you never spend enough time with them, that’s why.

OK, maybe there was a logical explanation after all, but she couldn’t avoid work. Work was her life. Work paid the bills to her opulent apartment. Work put food on her table.

Yesterday, she had spoken with her friend, Clare, about her dilemma. She and Clare had been tight as thieves since their secondary school days, and now Clare was married with two kids.

‘You don’t have any problems getting men, Shell,’ Clare said, giving Shelly the once-over and grinning. ‘We both know you’ve got the type of body that burns out the eyes of men.’

Shelly was a black woman, short dark hair, smooth, thin, eyebrows, and small, perky breasts. Her physique tapered at her waist and flared outrageously, hips so wide, butt so big. Her golden treasure, Clare had called it, and that was the truth. Whether donning a tight or loose skirt or jeans, her butt always maintained a seductive pull on men, like moth to flame. If only the men she attracted weren’t mostly interested in sex. She wanted a man she could come home to after work. A man she could talk to. A man she could laugh with. A man she could snuggle up to while watching a late night movie. Was that too much to ask?

‘Men only think with their dicks, Shell, you know that,’ Clare said.

‘Your Bobby doesn’t,’ Shelly said.

‘Well, Bobby is one of those rare ones. Maybe you should lift your no-sex ban.’

‘And risk them running away afterwards?’

‘They still run anyway, only this time, they do it faster. Come on, Shell, you haven’t had anyone tap that since forever! I can’t even imagine how frustrated you are,’ Clare said, laughing.

Shelly laughed as well. Clare was right, she did miss sex. It had been seven months since she last ventured to any bed with a man, and lately she had begun to itch down there for a dick.

‘Yes, I am frustrated. Sometimes I actually think of just going to a club and picking up any bloke. But really, I don’t want to send the wrong message and have people chatting about me behind my back. Remember last year when Laura had that threesome and one of the guys happened to know someone she worked with? It’s a small world, Clare.’

‘Well, if you can’t pick them up, you might as well make them,’ Clare said.

‘Make them how?’

‘Create them. Magic.’

Shelly raised her eyebrows, interested. Clare came from a family of practising magicians. Shelly hadn’t believed it at first until Clare had performed real magic before her eyes, in their second year at university (she had made a plant sprout out of its seed in mere seconds). Clare didn’t do that stuff anymore, though, not since marrying Bobby.

‘I’m not like you, Clare. I don’t do magic.’

‘All you need is an animal and the right spell, and –voila! You have yourself kızılay escort an able man,’ Clare said.

‘You’ve done this before, haven’t you?’ Shelly grew suspicious.

‘Honey, all those times at uni I wasn’t dating and I was glowing more than every girl, even you, where did you think I was getting some?’

‘Oh, my god, you’re such a slut!’ Shelly laughed with Clare.

‘Rabbits are the best.’

‘You actually made human beings out of rabbits?’

‘Yeah. Really easy stuff. But it lasts for only two nights. At first, it’s addictive, but then you miss going out on dates and getting flowers and snuggling. That’s when you give it up. Here, I’ll write the spell and how-to instructions for you. Get yourself a nice, big, fat rabbit and get your freak on girl!’

And so Shelly had bought herself a rabbit on her way home from Clare’s. She didn’t believe for a moment that it would work. Making a seed germinate was one thing. Transforming an animal into a man was another. But it was so fantastical and silly that she had to give it a try just for kicks.

When Shelly arrived at her place, she dumped her bag in her room and put the rabbit’s cage in the kitchen. Then she warmed some leftover Chinese takeout, ate, and delved into the legal documents she had been working on most of the day at the office.

At ten-thirty Shelly pried herself from the files and sauntered to her room, her goal to get a good night sleep. There was much work to be done tomorrow and she had to be mentally prepared. She stripped to her white bra and panties, and then remembered the rabbit in the kitchen. Locating her suit jacket in the wardrobe, she retrieved Clare’s instruction from its inner pocket and read it.

Oh, what the hell,Shelly giggled and ambled to the kitchen. She got the rabbit out of its cage and carried it to the living room. There, she proceeded with an unusual ceremony of sprinkling herbs and chanting Latin, and the poor rabbit blinked at her as if to say, ‘What on earth are you fucking doing?’

Shelly laughed, thinking of how much she was going to tease Clare about this.

The lights flickered. A faint pop sounded, and smoke billowed from where the rabbit sat. Shelly yelped and leaped back, heart kicking like a crazed lunatic, fear drenching her to her bones. Her apartment was on fire. She had to dial 999 immediately.

Shelly had only grabbed the handset when the smoke disappeared completely.

The rabbit was gone.

‘Oh. My. God,’ she muttered, dropping the handset. Her eyes zeroed in on the spot the rabbit had been at.

He was dark skinned, broad shouldered and tall. Heavy pounds of muscles rippled across his body – his chest, stomach, biceps, thighs and calves. He was simply solid. Rock solid.

Clare had not been lying about creating men out of animals. That bitch had not been lying at all.

Shelly’s surprised gaze devoured every inch of him, starting his bald head down to his taut stomach, and then froze at his crotch. His cock, fat, thick, heavy-looking, hung like a third leg. And he wasn’t even hard yet! Shelly’s palm reached for her chest, above her thundering heart, and remained there as she stared at the stranger, dumbfounded into silence.

He strode towards her and she backed away, alarmed and scared.

For god’s sake, you created him! Grow some spine!

Her butt hit the cool wall before her back did. He was closer now, so close she could smell him. He smelt good.

‘Um …,’ Shelly began, wetting her lips. ‘Um … hi, I’m Shelly. My friends call me Shell. Do you have a name?’

Of course he didn’t have a name. He was a rabbit!

Still, she waited for an answer. All she got was the steady rise and fall of his expansive chest. My god, the muscles on them. He was so big she felt small next to him, and she wasn’t a small woman.

‘OK, that was silly of me,’ Shelly said, forcing a small, shaky laugh. ‘How about I call you Greg? Or … or Sam?’

No answer.

‘Greg it is, then. It’s a – a really nice name. I could tell you about its history, but I’d need my laptop for that. You know what a laptop is, right? Oh, sorry. There I go, being silly again. It’s that thing –’

Greg grabbed her waist and dipped his head, latching etlik escort his lips onto hers. The kiss took Shelly by surprise. Seconds later, when she finally realised he was kissing her, she pushed against his massive chest in an attempt to sever their lips. But he was too strong for her feeble hands, and soon his big hands were clutching and squeezing her soft, plump butt cheeks. She felt his hardness on her thigh, felt the chunky pole pressing against her, and she shivered.

Shelly wasn’t ready for this. She didn’t want this. The magic wasn’t supposed to work. The rabbit was supposed to remain a rabbit. She had read the spell as a joke.

But none of that mattered now. Greg, randy as ever, was intent on having his way with her and there was nothing she could do about it.

Greg broke their kiss, and Shelly was both stunned and furious to find herself breathless and moaning.

‘Greg, wait …,’ she said as he took his lips to her throat. Her eyes rolled backwards, into her skull, and her eyelids fluttered shut. He knew which buttons to push, damn him.

A grunt emerged from him and a short squeal from her the instant he lifted her off the floor, fingers digging into her butt cheeks.So strong, she thought, her left arm wrapping around his neck, her right hand feeling his huge left bicep, and her legs gluing around his waist. He took her to the table and laid her on her back. He leaned forward, shred her bra apart, and covered her small mounds, squeezing them and tweaking her nipples.

‘Oh!’ Shelly gasped unexpectedly, for a stream of electrifying tingles had zipped from her nipples to her love spot. Her mind screamed for her to find an escape from this madness, but her body had other plans.

Greg captured her right nipple with his mouth, suckling it, nibbling it, and then abandoned it for her left one. She writhed under him, moaning her approval, despite herself. Greg hoisted her off the table and marched to her bedroom. The minute her back hit the bed, he was on top her, kissing her roughly, playing with her nipples, and nudging her thighs apart. She felt the head of his cock dangerously close to her sensitive pink folds, and the more it grazed her there, the wetter she got. Later, her hips began to tilt each time his dick neared her pussy, sending a clear message that she wanted him inside her.

He granted her wish.

A long, strangled cry issued from Shelly as Greg’s thick cock tore its way into her, filling her up so much she thought she would explode from the pleasure of it. He was too big, and she was so breathless from taking him in that she thought she would die from having little air to breathe.

Greg might be human now, but deep down he was still a rabbit, and like all rabbits, his desire was to get in there and get right to business. She expected no less from him, though she wished he would give her some time to adjust to his devastating size.

He gripped the headboard and thrashed his hips, up and down, continuously. The size of his dick and the force and speed with which he used it overwhelmed Shelly. She cried and pleaded, cleaving to his back, and he humped her, grunting incoherent nonsense in her ear. Each time he slammed against her, her body sank into the mattress, and the mattress tossed her up and he walloped her again. Her pussy bled cum on more than one occasion. Or two. Or four. She had lost count.

Shelly’s body, swathed in sweat, stiffened then juddered under Greg’s as she reached another mind-shattering orgasm. Yet, Greg showed no signs of relenting. She was both impressed and terrified. Her pussy was starting to get sore.

Greg paused, dragging his dick out of Shelly, and flipped her over. He made her kneel, thighs spread, fat ass in the air. Excitement rushed through Shelly’s tired body. The doggy style had always been the position she cherished most since her first foray into the realm of sex. She had wondered all night if she and Greg would try it, and had even begun to cultivate a minute disappointment when she thought they wouldn’t. Greg held her plump butt cheeks apart and impaled her pussy with his magnificent spear.

Shelly sank her fingers into the mattress and bit down on the pillow, her body trembling demetevler escort and surrendering to the unbelievable sensation that coursed through her. Greg clung to her waist and began to pound her, fast and furious. As she moaned, she imagined how it would look like from his point of view: her fat ass wobbling like jelly, waving and quaking each time he ramped into her. The erotic nature of the thought sent her into overdrive and she bucked her ass harder, sighing louder and calling out his name – or rather, the name she had given him.

‘Ooooh shit!’ Shelly wailed.

Another orgasm. But this one was the best, because Greg climaxed with her. She felt his milky seeds hit her womb and flood her soaked pussy, and it made her orgasm sweeter.

‘Oh, my god,’ she panted and collapsed on the bed. ‘Oh, my god.’

Greg, silent as always, fell beside her. She was too tired to talk to him, and besides, he wouldn’t talk back. She wondered if he was incapable of actual speech.

Exhaustion sealed Shelly’s mind shut and she slipped into unconsciousness.


Shelly had had erotic dreams before, but she was sure none compared to the one she just woke from. She still felt oddly excited from it, and when she leaned up, she discovered the reason her dream had been so vivid and her excitement still fresh: a bald head lay between her thighs and a hungry mouth fed on the nectar that flowed from her pussy. Her waist twisted in circles and jerked up and down, grinding her pussy on Greg’s face. How long had he been down there, eating her for breakfast?

Don’t you have work to go to?A faint voice reminded Shelly. She threw her head back, ignoring the voice, and grabbed Greg’s head, pushing his face against pussy, urging him to play with her clit faster.

Soon, Shelly was cursing and shaking from her first ever early morning orgasm. Greg crawled to her side and hoisted her over him. She straddled his waist and sank his enormous dick into her, whimpering and shuddering throughout the slow, painfully sweet journey. She seized his shoulders and tossed her butt up and down, round and round, back and forth, again and again. Greg grunted, leaving her quivering ass for her whacking breasts, and Shelly ensured that her pussy squeezed his dick while she rode him as though their lives depended on it.

Greg’s right hand was back on her ass.

‘Oh yeah!’ Shelly moaned when he slipped his finger into her backdoor. ‘That feels so good. Fuck my ass!’

For the first time since yesterday, Greg seemed to respond to her words, because he began to spear her butthole continually. The sensation that overtook her was one of unimagined bliss. She sloped forward, cupping Greg’s head, and fused her lips with his, muffling their boisterous cries.

She rode his cock and he fucked her ass for the next fifteen minutes, and then they welcomed their orgasm in unison, wailing and trembling in each other’s arms.

Once Shelly had dislodged from Greg, she heard her phone ringing. Fortunately for her it was within reach, on her bedside table, else she would never have been able to get to it. She had no strength left her.

It was Fred, her boss.

‘Fred? Hi,’ she said.

‘Shelly, are you alright? You’re not at work.’

‘I – er – I –’

‘You sound exhausted.’

‘Me? No, no. I’ll … get ready and come to the office right now. I woke up late for some reason. Sorry.’

‘No. Stay at home.’


‘Shelly,’ Fred sighed, ‘you’re one of my best lawyers, and I appreciate your work ethics. But you work yourself more than is necessary. You haven’t used any of your year’s holidays and it’s already April.’

‘Sir, I –’

‘I don’t need you overworked, Shelly. I need you focused and healthy. So, take some time off. Relax. And then get back to work. One week, Shelly.’

Shelly glanced at Greg’s muscular form.

‘Yes, I suppose I could take one week off,’ she said.

‘Good. Go see a doctor, Shelly. You sound like you could faint any moment. Talk to you next week.’

So, there it was – a formal excuse from her boss to persist in her rabbit affair. She was about to dial Clare’s number when Greg snatched the phone from her and flung it aside. He moved on top of her.

‘Don’t you ever get tired of fucking?’ Shelly asked, amused.

No answer. It was so like him to communicate with actions and not words, and his message was more than clear when his big dick eased into her damp pussy and made her purr.

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