"C'mon c'mon c'mo~on!" I squirm on the chair, and push back a little. "What's taking so long?!"

You smile. I can't see it, but I know you are; that same, crooked little smile that you always give when I'm being impatient. A hand playfully swats down across my ass, and I gasp with delight.

"Relax, Eena. You don't want me to hurt you, do you?"

"Maybe I do," I retort, and wiggle my ass again. "Or maybe I just wanna get fucked in the a-aah!"

The sudden press of a blunt cock against my asshole, and the sharp mix of pain and pleasure as it sinks in and stretches the tight pucker wide open. You give a faint grunt, and push your hips forward again to bury more of yourself inside me. Fuck, it feels good.

"Such an impatient little bunny." Your words are slow, and punctuated by the grind of your hips as you open me up. "If I'd've known you'd be this demanding when I hired you..."

"You would have given me a raise," I moan, and peek back at you over my shoulder. In your coat and tails, you look as dashing as ever, but you've at least done me the courtesy of ditching the hat. That tall black hat, the telltale sign of the professional magician. I really hate that hat.

"Maybe I would," you grin, and meet my gaze as you pull back and smack your palm flat across my ass. I moan, and moan again as you slide back inside to the hilt. "Or maybe I would have paid you like this instead. Some food, an audience, and as much dick as your ass could handle. How's that for a paycheck?"

By now, you've found your groove, and I can feel my entire frame shift and jerk as you fuck me slow and deep, the dull thump of skin hitting skin adding a constant, delicious rhythm to our back and forth. My fingers in the long, white gloves are gripping the back of the chair, and my breasts jump and shift with every stroke you lay into me, barely contained by the skimpy bodysuit that sparkles with rhinestones of white and blue under the dim lights of the backstage dressing room. Your hands hold my waist in a firm grip, and I know this is mostly to allow you the best possible view of my large, plump bunny butt and the twitching little fuzz of tail above the crack. More than once, I've looked back over my shoulder and caught you staring fixedly down at your oiled-up cock sliding between the cheeks of my ample backside, and the fact that you are as fond of fucking it as I am of having it fucked is probably a large part of why we work so well together. Romantically as well as professionally.

"Hah.." I laugh, although my voice is becoming more and more breathy as you fuck my ass harder and harder. "How cheap.... do you think I am?"

At this, I feel another sharp smack across my ass, and you lean forward and practically squish me against the chair as you bury yourself inside of me and press your mouth close to the base of my floppy bunny ears.

"Cheap enough to want it in the ass before every show..!"

I groan and protest: "Nngh--! Y-you know why--!"

"Sure." And your hips slam into me again, hard enough to make my ass jiggle around your cock. "Because you are my cheap little bunny butt slut! Aren't you?"

"Mnnhh--"

"Aren't you?"

"Mmnghh..!"

"Aren't you, Eena?"

"Aah~!"

You peck a kiss on my neck as I drool mindlessly over the edge of the chair, and straighten back up to pick up your pace again, this time going for the gold as you ram yourself into my ass.

"Good girl."

Your hands on my hips give a little squeeze, and I push back against you instinctively as you drive forward, another few dozen rapid strokes before you groan, grunt and push yourself deep inside. A faint sensation of throbbing warmth flows through me, and then you give a long, shuddering sigh and pull out.

"I love you, Eena."

"I love you too, baby. Thank you."

You smirk, and as I slowly climb down from the chair and begin to set my clothes back in place, you zip yourself up and walk over to the small, cloth-covered table near the door. As always, the implements of your trade are lined up meticulously; the colorful flags, the boxes with hidden compartments, the rods of glass that look downright invisible from the right angle and with the right lighting-- and, of course, the piece de resistance, draped in silver satin but unmistakable by its size and shape: a large, bulbous butt plug, measuring some two and a half inches across, and with a sparkling stone set into the hilt to make the wearer's asshole look like the crown jewel of some perverted dynasty. I look at it as you fuss over the table, and gently rub my ass where you'd spanked me. Won't be too long until that thing is inside me, conjured there as if by magic - and oh, if only the rubes knew the truth - but at least now I am warmed up properly to take it.

That's the real reason why people go to see the Amazing Performance of Mr. Morozol, Master Magician and Conjuror Extraordinaire! Everyone has seen the old trick of pulling a bunny out of a hat. But putting a plug into a bunny, without so much as touching her? Now that's worth the price of admission!

Up above us, a light flashes twice. Show time. I check to make sure my bodysuit is properly covering my ass and tits - which is to say, barely - and then follow you out as you cart the table before you. Gradually, the sound of the eager audience begins to drone in our ears, and I feel the usual surge of excitement course through me. Sounds like a full house tonight! My clothes sparkle, my heels push up my ass in the best possible way, and my ears twitch with anticipation as we approach the entrance to the stage. The stage manager nods at you, smiles at me. I smile back. And then...

Lights! Microphone! Magic!