A Rabbit Tale: Chapter XIII [Comm] (Patreon)

Chapter XIII

Marisa remained dutiful with playing the hypnotic video files for her husband each and every day. It became a routine of sorts, as Marisa was getting ready for work while Fievel was eating breakfast, she would rewind the tape and confirm with Annie that after she left the adult rabbit would be placed in his bouncer for the morning. Until lunch time, the rabbit would bob up and down gently in his bouncer, gurgling softly as the contents of his brains were slowly and methodically rewired to suit his wife’s desires. 

It took a few weeks at first for the commands and cue words to properly cement themselves, but soon enough Marisa was able to cause his husband to helplessly wet himself at the softest murmur of a cue word, outright soil himself if she uttered only a couple syllables, and crawl on his paws and knees over to her footpaws to beg adorably for a change at the mere mention of his padding. 

His behavior in other respects had improved as well, and for the majority of the day his glassy-eyed stare would keep him obedient and docile until the next morning, where the hypnotic video session would refresh his stupor. Several weeks in, Marisa would take great pleasure in coming home from her work to find an obediently trained baby rabbit for her to command to her amusement. 

“Beg.”

Marisa stood in front of her husband, who had been idly playing with a stack of plastic blocks in the corner of his nursery. Fievel looked up, a thin line of drool descending down from the guard of his pacifier. He shifted, his backside crinkling softly as he positioned himself onto his mittened front paws and knees. He shifted, the weight of his sodden pampers slowing down his movement somewhat as he approached his wife. A soft gurgle came from his throat as he approached her, mumbling happily over the teat of his pacifier as he made his way over to her feet. 

He sat back, a muffled squelch coming from the seat of his soaked huggies as he raised his mittens paws up to his chest. He assumed the begging position he had been conditioned to perform, bending his wrists slightly as he motioned for her to address his diaper. Slowly, Marisa leaned down and placed a possessive paw over the front of his drooping padding. She squeezed gently, pressing through the soaked contents of his bunny pampers until she was just able to feel the rigid outline of his cage. She had not deigned to unlock him for several months now, which had rendered his pecker to a smaller size with heightened sensitivity. 

Fievel’s leg twitched momentarily at the stimulation, murmuring softly into his pacifier after taking in a soft breath. She squeezed a little more, causing some of his pee to dribble out of the padding’s sap and wash over his quivering locked bits. The warmth of the liquid flooding over him caused a full blown moan to come out of Fievel’s throat, his leg twitching once more as his hips bucked once. Marisa nodded approvingly, moving her paw down to inspect the weight of his seat. She observed that he was only wet for the moment, no bigger accidents just yet. 

“Mess.”

Without a moment’s hesitation, Fievel’s face scrunched slightly from the effort as he reflexively relaxed his sphincter. A moment passed, during which the sound of flatulence escaping his furry behind and into the backseat of his soaked diaper could be heard. A second later, he let out a short grunt before the flatulence transitioned into a heavier, wetter series of blurts and squelches. He grimaced behind his pacifier, panting from the effort before his cheeks reddened slightly. With a last gasp of air, he finished depositing a heavy load into the back of the padding.

His diaper now hung between his legs with the added weight, thick and swollen from the many times he had piddled between his legs and now with a slightly earthier scent mixed in with the puppy powder. Marisa moved herself down to the floor, slipping her panties down until they were hanging off of her ankles. Carelessly, she flicked them to the side with a swift kick and spread her legs open. 

“Dine.”

She stated flatly, watching with great interest as the command took over her husband’s neural circuits. He moved forward sluggishly, his padding swaying from side to side as he approached her exposed privates. The pacifier dropped from his muzzle as he opened his mouth, puckering his lips slightly before connecting with Marisa’s exposed jewels. The female rabbit took in a sharp breath, gasping softly as her voice caught in her throat. She lifted up an ankle, pressing with the back of her foot her husband’s mess against his backside to further remind him of what he had just done. 

This took a fair amount of concentration, however, since Fievel was now painstakingly running his tongue over and through her with surgical precision. He had not lost his tact and grace when it came to this task despite the regressive state he was in, as the hypnotic tapes had done their job to perfectly describe to him the caliber of attention he should be paying attention with. Marisa bit her lip, stifling a cry as she threw her head back and shuddering, clenching her shoulders together at her neck. 

Fievel, almost oblivious to the fact that he was ending his wife towards the point of sensual madness, continued dogged on with his task. He was just barely aware of his wife kneading his freshly deposited accident against his buttocks, causing his shrunken carrot’s head to twitch in response to the simulation. He only knew that he had to obey the command, and that he had done a very good job filling his pamper.

Marisa let out a broken cry, clenching her buck teeth as she tried her best to keep herself from going over the edge. Fievel’s tongue was like a silken carpet, sliding with utmost gentility as he worked her over. Weeks of having his tongue salivating against the nipple of a pacifier had rendered it quite soft but malleable; he worked expertly with his appendage ensuring that Marisa’s most sensitive spot got the care and attention it deserved. 

A minute later, Marisa could no longer hold herself back. Her nose wrinkled as

her hips bucked against Fievel’s face, the orgasm ricocheting through her body as she finished with spastic muscle contractions flowing down her spine and into her legs. Fievel remained dutiful, never ceasing once in his small attention in response to Marisa’s evident finish. This only further exacerbated the intensity of her finale, and she let out a soft yelp of pleasure as the final dregs of sensual energy left her. 

“Done…”

She moaned out, moving away from her husband and taking a moment to gather herself. Fievel’s diaper remained unchanged, and would remain so as Marisa cleaned herself up in the shower. Fievel’s attention spanned down to his pacifier, which he batted at clumsily with his mittened paws. After struggling for a moment, he leaned down and managed to tease the nipple back between his lips. He turned around, crawling back towards his blocks without a care in the world, the pleasure he had just served already forgotten.