|Easter Egg Hunt|
|© Copyright 2012 - Jo - Used by permission|
|Storycodes: M+/f+; bodypaint; encase; packaged; outdoors; egg; hunt; bunnysuit; gag; cons; X|
|Easter Egg Hunt Jo M+/f+; bodypaint; encase; packaged; outdoors; egg; hunt; bunnysuit; gag; cons; X|
The van pulled up to the curb. Denise climbed in. She was the last, so she got the passenger seat. Tina sat next to her, Jess drove. Nobody spoke. The others in back said nothing. Most slept. She thought she heard a snore.
They rode across town to Anderson's warehouse. In addition to being their pimp, he had a nice little black market business. As they rolled up Denise could see the back of a panel truck filled with large bowls. Anderson pulled the door down, latched it, climbed into the truck and drove off. Jess followed.
It was a long drive: two hours on the interstate and another half hour on the country road. They pulled up to a stone gate. The sign said Greenshire Hunt Club Private. A paved road wound through the trees. At one point Denise caught sight of the house. It was big, not a mansion, but big enough. Anderson pulled off onto a dirt track, Jess followed. The bouncing woke the sleeping girls.
"Where the hell are we," someone said. No one answered.
Anderson stopped, got out and raised the door. He grabbed one of the bowls. It was brightly colored. Jess turned around.
"We're doing an Easter egg hunt and you ladies will be the chicks in the eggs. Who's first? Tina?"
Tina looked apprehensive, bit her lip, but nodded. Jess stepped out of the van, Tina slid over and followed her.
Tina pulled off her clothes, set them on the seat next to Denise. Tina was the baby, just 19. She had a girl's body, hadn't quite gotten rid of her baby fat. She was adorably cute now. In a couple of years she'd be drop dead gorgeous. She had kinky blonde hair, chubby cheeks, a mouth that looked like a perpetual smirk. She had torpedo titties. Tits that were more long than round. But they were firm, stuck straight out. Denise felt a twinge of envy. Her tits had never been that firm.
Anderson set the second half of the egg on the ground, went back to the truck to retrieve his air brush gear. Jess followed him and came back with a huge bail of green, plastic grass.
She tore the bail open and stuffed it into the bottom half of the egg. Meanwhile, Anderson painted Tina, painted her head to toe a bright yellow. She put her hair up in a bun and Anderson pulled on the cap. It was covered in bright yellow feathers, more of a mask than a cap. There were holes for her eyes, and for her mouth and chin. He tugged it into place, got the eyes lined up, then he helped her into the egg. She stopped half way and raised her feet so Anderson could paint the bottoms. Anderson is nothing if not meticulous.
She climbed the rest of the way, settled herself in the soft, green grass. Jess reached into the van and grabbed her camera, took several shots of the naked yellow chick on a bed of green. She helped Anderson position the top half of the egg, set it in place. Anderson took the screw gun and fastened the half dozen screws to secure the halves.
The egg was brightly colored with a kind of diamond pattern running around the middle The pattern made it look like the egg was solid, which, now that it was secured, in a way it was.
The vehicles started to roll.
"I can't do this." This from Leslie. "Seriously. Just watching it has my stomach in a knot. Sorry. I just can't"
"No problem. There are ten eggs and twelve of us. Two will be cocktail bunnies. You can be one. Anyone else have a problem."
"Me," said Denise. "I don't even like elevators. You can ask Anderson."
"Okay, you and Leslie are the cocktail bunnies. Your outfits are in back. Someone want to grab those bags behind the seat?"
Jess made a notation on a map, put the van in gear, and they bounced along.
"Just so you know, the eggs aren't airtight. He's rigged up some holes and tubes that let air in, but not light. It'll get a bit stuffy, but I spent the afternoon in one last week and it was fine."
"You gotta be kidding!"
Denise turned back just as Diane handed her a bag. Leslie was holding up the "outfit". It was, in fact, a bunny suit. Think Bugs Bunny in pink. It was all of a piece with enormous bunny feet that looked like they started life as slippers. Probably had. Jess is the seamstress. She makes all their costumes. There were bunny paws. The suit itself looked like a kid's onesy, all soft and plush. The face or hood had big floppy ears, a little, sniffing nose, and long whiskers. Other than eye holes and the zip up the back there were no openings.
"Can I change my mind? That egg is starting to look pretty good."
A couple of the girls chuckled.
"How do we hold things?"
"The mittens are more flexible than they look. You'll be able to manipulate glasses and bottles, kinda sorta."
"No mouth hole?"
"Unh uh. You can breathe well enough through the fabric."
Denise pulled a roll of pink tape from the bag.
"Bunnies should be seen and not heard."
A few minutes later the vehicles pulled to a stop, another girl stripped, was painted, and sealed in an egg.
Slowly the van emptied until there were three. Jess made a last notation on the map and handed it to Denise.
"Don't lose this. Anderson's been making this up as we went along. He has GPS, but if the battery dies, we're screwed."
Denise reached for the glove box.
"No. Once everything is set, Anderson will make himself absent, probably take the van. Tuck it in your bunny suit somewhere."
Jess stepped out of the van and stripped. She was the quintessential dark haired beauty. French perhaps. Wavy black hair framed her flawless face. She spent a lot of time in the gym and, though not a hard-body, it showed. When she walked, nothing jiggled but her tits, and even then not much. Perky was the overused word, but if you looked up perky tits, there'd be a picture of Jessica.
Presently she was painted and sealed inside the last egg. Leslie climbed into the front seat. Denise drove.
At the house, Anderson led them through a back door and up a flight of stairs. In a small room the two girls stripped. Anderson helped Leslie into her bunny suit, paused to gag her with the pink tape before pulling the hood over her head and zipping her in.
"Yeah, I can see that."
"Jess thought it would be a good idea."
"I have GPS."
"Yeah, well, call it a backup plan."
Anderson made a face, then shrugged. He helped Denise into her costume. Denise slipped the map down her leg. Anderson looked at it frowned. You could just barely see it if you looked real hard, but he's anal about this kind of thing.
"Let me see that."
Denise pulled the map out, handed it over. He studied it for a bit, then folded the map in quarters.
"Here. Stick it in your paw."
Denise thought of a witty retort, but bit her tongue.
Once suited up, the girls looked at each other and burst into muffled giggles.
"All right. All right. Listen I'm gonna take you downstairs, show you where the bar is, then I'm gonna vamoose. The guy's name is Binelli, Angelo, Angie Binelli. He drinks vodka, neat. Neat means a double shot in a rocks glass, but no rocks. Got it?"
The bunnies nodded.
Downstairs, Anderson led them into the lounge. The place had a rough-hewn look to it, but purposely made to look that way, kind of like expensive, distressed jeans. The effect was authentic enough.
Binelli walked in just as Anderson was leaving. Denise fixed a drink and brought it over. Binelli took a sip, smiled and said, "Thank you." Denise could only nod.
"Are we all set?"
"Yep. Ten guests, ten eggs."
And without another word, Angie Binelli left the room.
The guests arrived in ones and twos. The bunnies served drinks. When all the guests had gathered and consumed a second round of drinks, they pulled names from a hat and the first five headed out to the barn. Through the window, Denise watched as five golf carts putted by, each pulling a small trailer. Binelli walked up.
"We use the trailers to haul game. Today we have a different breed of game. I hear it tastes like chicken."
He gave her a wink.
A few minutes later a cart drove by. An egg wobbled on the trailer.
"That was fast."
The cart stopped by the rear patio. The hunter pulled the egg from the trailer. It landed with a thump, rolled twice, then wobbled upright. Denise was very glad she wasn't in that egg. The sixth guy climbed aboard and sped into the woods.
Nothing happened for a while, but then carts appeared and eggs were dispensed - all but one. Denise hadn't memorized the colors, but it stuck in her mind that Jess was in a green egg and there was no green egg on the back lawn. An hour passed, then the last cart appeared - empty.
"Hell if I can find it. Went down every trail - twice."
Someone suggested they all go out, but someone else noted that everyone was pretty much lit and, besides, it was getting dark. Binelli stepped over to Denise.
"He knows where he put them, right?"
Binelli pulled out his phone. Waited.
"Shit. No service."
Denis waved a paw, pointed to herself.
"What? Can't you talk?"
Denise shook her head, made a wiping motion over her mouth, then pointed over her shoulder and made a pulling motion. Binelli scowled at her, then stepped behind and pulled down the zipper. Denise tried to pull the suit off, but couldn't. Binelli slipped the hood over her head and the paws from her hands. She reached down into the paw on her foot and retrieved the map. The men put their heads together, figured out who had found which egg.
"Oh for Christ sake. She's about a half mile down the south fire road. Gino, head out behind the barn. You'll see a path that bears off to the left. Take it, then take another left when you hit the fork. Follow it for about a thousand yards give or take. She should be there. If you merge with the main trail, you've gone too far."
The men started to disperse, Denise tried to pull the bunny suit back on.
"Leave it. In fact, take it off."
She stepped out of the suit, wearing only the strips of tape over her mouth. Binelli gave her an approving nod.
"I like it. Nice and simple. Of course I may want to remove that tape later. Help your friend out of her suit. It looks stupid."
A few minutes later the cart came roaring back. It skidded to a stop, sending the green egg bouncing and rolling across the lawn where it fetched up against the rest. Denise winced.
There was a long silence.
"Well, what the hell are you waiting for? Open the friggin' eggs."
Someone produced a screw gun, the first egg was opened, and a naked, yellow chick emerged. The men hooted and cheered.
Binelli wagged his glass, Denise refilled it, handed it back. He raised it.
"Here's to a successful hunt."
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