Page 33 of Run, Rabbit, Run

“I know, Bunny. I know,” His voice was choked, weighed down with the sorrow he held in his heart for her.

Something snapped inside of Bunny like a rubberband. Everything came rushing back to her. She had slipped so far into character, she had almost forgotten what was really happening.

Too immersed in the play to stay in touch with reality, Bunny had cracked open, pieces of her spilling out, leaving her exposed.

But it was okay. She was safe. This was her Demetrius, the man who would let no harm come to her outside of what she specifically asked for. She had begged him for this roleplay scenario specifically, laying out her desires methodically. He had finally agreed to it after a waiting period to make sure it was really how she felt.

He picked her back up and took her into the bedroom, setting her down on her feet so he could use the towel to dry her body off. Bunny stood there and let him care for her, still unsure whether her legs could hold out much longer. They didn’t have to, however, because he finished quickly and laid her down in the bed, pulling back the sheets to expose the jersey knit set.

Her favorite.

“You’re all wet,” She murmured, running a hand down his shirt. He hummed in response, quickly shedding his shirt and pants and climbing into bed with her.

“Come here, Bunny,” He said, pulling her close. She snuggled into his side, putting her head in that cozy spot between his shoulder and neck that she knew so well. She began to cry again. This time it was soft, and he rubbed her back while she let the rest of her emotions flow readily from her cloudy mind

It was easier to feel, be loved, and allow somebody to provide the comfort she craved when she was forced into opening herself. So far in life, she had found no other method that worked quite so well as the domination Demetrius exerted.

She finally quieted, sniffling softly.

“End scene?” He murmured, kissing her forehead.

“Yes, I think so. I think that’s all I wanted out of this,” She responded quietly, absolutely spent after the days they had played pretend with each other.

“You scared me, y’know that? You got into the role so well, I couldn’t tell at some points whether you had lost touch with reality…” Demetrius trailed off, squeezing her until she squeaked.

“I think I might have gotten a little too lost in myself, yeah,” She agreed.

After a few moments of silence, Demetrius asked, “Was it everything you wanted?”

“Everything and so much more.”

He seemed satisfied with this answer. They lay there, husband and wife, until they fell asleep nestled into each other.

The next morning, everything was as it was when they weren’t playing out a carefully plotted scene. Demetrius woke her with light kisses all over her face as she groaned and weakly pushed him away.

“Good morning, good morning,” This sing-song greeting was a daily ritual for them. Bunny, finally switching from stirring to rising, sat up. Her hair was a mess and she felt like her body was falling apart. But that didn’t matter. She had never felt lighter in her life.

“Breakfast?” He said, grinning, finally free to ease back into their everyday dynamic. She murmured her agreement and they began dressing for the day.

She had concocted this scenario while researching for school in the furthest reaches of a stuffy, dusty library. Bunny had been hopelessly distracted, trying to figure out how to face the past, how to cope with the trauma, and process the grief she still harbored. And then it hit her.

BDSM had become a way to release the horror inside, to lose control but this time by her own volition. At its core, trauma was a loss of control. It was bad enough to feel that hopelessness as an adult. As a child, truly helpless, she could do nothing to change her circumstances.

But now, she was in the driver’s seat.

Demetrius had been the one to introduce her to the scene. It was a way for him to break her down and force her into a position where she could accept his tenderness and love.

He had taught her to take control, and then he had taught her how to let that control go. She couldn’t count how many times he had broken her mentally, physically, and spiritually, only to hold her while she fell apart in his arms.

Demetrius was hard and soft and brutish and tender all at the same time. His often dichotomous nature always kept her guessing in the best way possible. She loved him for what he did to her. This time she needed something more.

Once dressed, they made their way arm-in-arm to the kitchen, where Michael stood eating a bagel.

“Oh, is it over?” He said, mouth full of bread and cream cheese.

“Yeah, we’re done,” Bunny responded.

“Okay, cool. Anyways, you guys are really fucking weird. Can I leave now?”