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Easter Bunny's little death

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Jim looked at him and giggled. “Where did you find these?”

“Oh, well, you know…around. I’ve heard that there’d be a pretty bunny bouncing around, and I thought that it might make a fine meal,” Bast retorted, wiggling his butt to make the tiger-striped tail attached to his butt plug wiggle. Plush ears on a headband and a rather meticulous job with body paint (which Moriarty would bet was edible) completed the ensemble.

“Don’t tell me you passed the job of accompanying me to that meeting to Rosamund because you needed to get ready for the Easter bunny!” Jim scolded, but his grin said he wasn’t serious.

“We all know it wasn’t a dangerous as much as an annoying meeting…heck, you could have hired airport security men for that, and you’d be safe. I thought more important to help you unwind…and if you let me pounce, I promise you won’t regret it,” Moran purred.

“Be a good kitty, Tiger, and I might consider not punishing you,” the consulting criminal quipped, slapping the man’s butt. “I’ll be back in a mo, need to look the part for this.”

Look the part? They didn’t have a bunny costume. At least, Sebastian thought they didn’t. Unless Jim had read his intentions and prepared accordingly…

They didn’t, but neither would be complaining. Jim came back in completely naked, a decidedly bunny-like bound in his step, and holding a wide wicker basket he’d rustled up somewhere. He was whistling a jaunty tune, and actually jumped back, looking honestly startled, when the tiger jumped on his path.

“Take this,” he begged, “and spare my life, Mister Tiger, Sir.”

Moran peered in and found lube and their biggest beads, which Bast had actually bought as a gag gift. They were in ridiculously bright neon rainbow colours…trice over. “Those are unusual eggs…I mean, master Rabbit, eggs don’t usually come stringed together. But while they do make for interesting loot, and I’ll be happy to play with them later,  I’m hungry for meat right now…” he remarked, shouldering the basket out of the way and sauntering between Jim’s legs.

“I suppose I shall have to accept my sacrifice,” Jim declared dramatically, thrusting his hips forwards. After that, any talking was definitely out of the table.