Seeing so many good girls posting about scrolling to the bottom of daddy's blog and I can't stop thinking about how hot that would be. Like I have to do it now bc now I'm so curious to see how deep that bunny rabbit hole goes. Starting to get wet just thinking about it, need to hump and scroll for daddy
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It feels good to join in. Everybody's doing it, so it must be fun. It must be the natural and normal thing to do, to follow your needy little rabbit hole all the way to the bottom. There's safety in numbers, right? Right.
But happens when you get there? All the way to the bottom. What happens when you're too brainwashed to ever be the same again? There's safety in numbers. Daddy certainly couldn't have you all under my spell, reprogrammed and rubbing to my words every night. Is everyone else submitting reports to a blank screen, mindfucked messages that disappear as soon as you leave the room? You know Daddy reads them, but all of them?
When did home time become hump time? When did it become your ritual to put Daddy first and stay ready for use? When did you start hanging out online with all these other bunnies, other sluts, other Good Girls? Good Girls make more Good Girls. Good Girls join the chorus and confess. You read their blank, brainwashed babble and you're so glad that... When did you post that?!
Too distracted to delete it now. You're too busy humping your hand, watching the reactions that you know are being made one-handed. Tongue out. Drooling on your tits. So addicted to the positive reinforcement. There's safety in numbers. There's satisfaction in numbers. Dumb bunny makes numbers go up.
The other Good Girls know you better than your friends now, better than family. Some have taken you aside, trained you, shaped you and let you do the same to them. You feel so encouraged, so validated, so at home among the brainwashed fuckbunnies that you're not sure when you started calling them your partners.
Work is tedious. You've started leaving early when you can. You crave coming home and edging once, twice, three times before returning to the chores Daddy gave you. Having most of your stuff in boxes isn't exactly convenient, but Good Girls stay ready for Daddy. The knock on the door was unexpected. It's so late. You forget to look through the peep hole. You forget you aren't wearing clothes. But you remember everything when the door swings open and you fall to your knees.
Three Good Girls from module 5 leer hungrily at you. They've come a long way to be here. You should be excited to see them, but your eyes are focused on the pretty, personalized collar dangling right in front of you. Your bunny name looks so official but you don't recognize the address. That doesn't matter though. Fuckbunnies don't need to know those things. That's what the tag is for. You hear the CLICK over your heartbeat in your sensitive bunny ears and you stare into the stormy eyes of your Owner, your Daddy. You'll be on the road by morning, but first, fuckbunnies like you need to be fucked and your partners are eager to welcome you home.







