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BunnyLoversWiki > Bunny behaviour > Training 101
@BestBunny [OP]
Hey bunny lovers! After a couple posts on the forum we thought it would be helpful to add a basic introductory guide for training your bunny to the wiki. Thanks to @bunnytrainer and @wolf-and-bun for helping me compile this. Enjoy!
⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ᧔ෆ᧓ ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ᧔ෆ᧓ ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ᧔ෆ᧓ ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔
Throughout this guide, the following terminology is used:
- Stimulus: the external object or action that acts as the trigger for a desired behaviour. For example, a specific hand motion.
- Desired behaviour: the behaviour or actions you want your bunny to exhibit in presence of the stimulus. For example, you may want your bunny to sit when it sees a specific hand motion.
- Reward: something your bunny already enjoys, to be given in the presence of the stimulus and as a treat for performing the desired behaviour. For example, delicious blueberries.
By the end of this process, your bunny will respond positively to a new external stimulus and perform a specific behaviour for you.
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Posted: 22 Mar 2016 | 09:43 (EST +0:00)
˖Ი𐑼⋆ Step 1: Initial introduction ⊹ ࣪ ˖
Bunnies spook very easily. It’s important to introduce new tricks slowly. Slowly introduce your bunny to a new stimulus and monitor their reactions carefully. If the stimulus has the potential to be overwhelming, consider introducing a single element at this stage and increasing it over time. Do not force the bunny to engage with the stimulus at this stage.
Shane doesn’t think anything of it, the first time. He’s on FaceTime with Ilya, the newest addition to their routine. His days are bookended by Ilya now: a good morning text, maybe a call on the way to practice if their days sync up, and a video call before bed (or, a long voice note from Ilya if Shane is playing, half game commentary and half praise in a low voice that makes Shane’s stomach swoop). It’s not unusual for Shane to do his nighttime skincare routine on the phone with Ilya, phone propped against his big mirror. Tonight, Ilya is in Boston getting himself ready for bed with Shane (see, Hollander, you are such a good influence, I am like dedushka now), even though they both know Ilya will scroll on his phone for another two hours before he goes to sleep.
Muffled background noises filter through the line as Ilya wanders around his house, filling Shane in on some league gossip he’d heard. Shane nods along absently as he applies his moisturizer. Ilya falls quiet and Shane glances at his phone, making sure the connection hasn't dropped. Nope, he can still see Ilya - a pretty bad angle, in fairness, below the chin so Ilya’s looking right down into the camera. A soft tinkling noise fills the silence.
“What the fuck— Ilya, are you peeing right now?” Shane huffs, wrinkling his nose.
Ilya grins. “Want to see, baby?”
Before Shane can protest, Ilya’s flipped the camera, the screen filling with the porcelain white of the toilet bowl and, at the bottom, his soft cock. Shane watches the light stream of piss arc for a long second before he tears his eyes away.
“Cut that shit out, Ilya.”
“Awww, my grumpy zaychik,” Ilya teases, and when Shane glances over his phone is showing him Ilya’s face again, white teeth on show as he laughs at Shane.
“C’mon, Ilya,” Shane whines, “That’s gross. At least mute yourself next time.”
“Hmm. Okay, malysh.”
And that’s it. Ilya moves on, telling Shane to tuck himself up tight before he whispers sweetly down the phone and blows him kisses goodnight.
One downside of long-distance with Ilya (other than only seeing him every month at best, not getting to touch him, waking up alone, and everything else that Shane ruminates on every free moment) is that it has ruined Shane’s morning routine. He knows it’s trendy now, but Shane had been disciplined for a long time: hydrate and stretch first, no coffee for the first 90 minutes, and no phone for at least an hour.
Those days are long gone. Now, he wakes up and rolls over, reaching for his phone to see if Ilya has sent him a text. It’s become a bit of a competition between them, getting to send the first good morning text. Shane usually wins, unless he’s on the west coast. Recently, though, Ilya has been surprising him, waking up early to send a text and then going back to sleep until the last possible minute.
Shane smiles when he sees the notification on his home screen: Lily - 2 new messages.
Curious, Shane opens the photo. It’s a little blurry, and it takes him a second to figure out what it is. The tip of Ilya’s cock, camera zoomed in so it fills almost the bottom third of the screen. He’s pissing into the shower for some reason; Shane recognizes the marble flooring of his master bath. He swipes down to get rid of the photo.
He puts his phone down and starts his morning routine. If he opens the photo one more time, it’s just to check he wasn’t mistaken. The answer is yes, Ilya really did send him a blurry photo of him pissing. Shane shakes his head and gets on with his day.
Ilya’s reply is waiting when Shane gets back from his morning run.
Unfortunately for Shane, Ilya seems to latch on to this particular bit. It’s like he knows it pisses Shane off, but not quite enough that he’s actually upsetting him. Over the next few weeks, he gets a few more pictures, mostly in the morning alongside his usual messages, good morning beautiful, have a good day zaychik, miss you sweetheart. Each time, Shane texts back some variation of ew, thanks I guess, gross. The rolling eyes emoji becomes his most used.
Ilya graduates to short clips after a while. Just a few seconds, enough that Shane can see him pull back the foreskin on his thick cock and watch his piss hit the water. Shane doesn’t love it, sure, but it’s not that bad. It’s nothing he hasn’t seen before — at the cottage, he’d found out Ilya was a big open door policy advocate, often walking in to pee while Shane was showering, or brushing his teeth.
One night, he gets a clip of Ilya and someone else, maybe Marly, pissing into a large snowbank. It’s late enough that Shane’s sure they weren’t spotted, and it’s kind of sweet, in a weird way: Ilya leaves a yellow heart in the snow for him.
He knows Ilya is just doing it to get a rise out of him, really. Like kids on the playground. It must be because he loves Ilya so much that he can’t find it in himself to care.
݁ ˖Ი𐑼⋆ Step 2: Build comfort ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ໒꒱
Bunnies are silly little creatures. Sometimes they don’t understand what’s good for them. It’s important not to scare your bunny. Be kind to them in the presence of the stimulus to help them understand it’s what they want. Your bunny may not be ready to show the desired behaviour, but it should become increasingly comfortable around the stimulus.
He can’t quite remember how many clips Ilya’s sent him by the time he gets the first proper video. Enough that he comes to expect them each morning, another way for Ilya to show him he’s thinking of him, how much he misses him.
This video, though, is different. It starts as usual. Shane props himself up against his pillows to read Ilya’s good morning text and watch the short clip of his morning piss.
It buffers for a moment before playing. Immediately, Shane realises that Ilya is hard. Not half-hard like most of his clips, cock flagging from his morning wood. This time, he’s fully hard, foreskin pulled away from his deep red tip. He takes himself in his hand and strokes himself slowly. Fuck, Shanya, he groans, voice tinny through Shane’s phone speakers. Is this meant to be a sexy video? No, that’s definitely the toilet in the background.
Shane watches as he fucks into his fist a few times before he angles himself down slightly. There’s a long pause filled only by his off-camera groans, and then, suddenly, a burst of piss splashes into the bowl. Fuck, Ilya moans off screen, trying to control his messy stream, want you, malysh.
The video runs for another 12 seconds. It’s loud, Ilya’s deep moans and the pressure of his piss filling Shane’s room. As it starts to slow, Ilya starts to drag his hand up his cock. A dribble soaks his hand as he strokes himself through it. The video cuts out.
Shane rewatches it. Then he freaks out.
Ilya’s reply comes almost instantly.
That’s true, Shane supposes. He loves watching Ilya — it’s one of his favourite parts of being long-distance, seeing Ilya spit on his cock and stroke himself, groaning and telling Shane how much he misses him. The piss is gross, but Ilya’s right. He’s seen it before. Shane takes a deep breath, holds it, releases it.
He’s just overreacting. Just a silly video. Shane shakes his head as if he can dislodge the unsettling feeling.
Later that night, Ilya FaceTimes him as usual and the video is the last thing on Shane’s mind. He knows exactly how to make Shane feel good, teasing him and making him press his new vibrator against his nipples until he’s humping the air, desperate and begging. Ilya lets Shane watch him come up close, the way he likes. When they finally hang up, Shane’s phone screen flicks back to their text chat and he sees the bottom of the video thumbnail at the very top of his screen. Maybe he had reacted a bit too strongly.
Ilya doesn’t send him anything else like that. It helps Shane relax, tension in his chest unwinding. Ilya knows him better than anyone. He knows just how far to push, how to get Shane into that sweet spot between discomfort and overwhelm. Shane trusts him to pull back. So anything else Ilya sends him, it’s because he knows Shane can handle it.
The usual morning clips continue. Maybe Ilya’s a little louder, but nothing crazy. Just moaning softly, breath stuttering as he starts to piss. Shane gets it, honestly — that first second of release with a full bladder, the tension unspooling, feels great. The clips get a bit longer, too, but that’s fine. It’s just more of the same, Shane watching Ilya’s full morning piss instead of just a few seconds. He likes the bit right at the end, when Ilya pulls his foreskin back over the tip of his cock. He moans then too, sometimes, stroking his half hard cock as the camera cuts out. Shane stops feigning disgust. It’s nicer for them both if he just sends a good morning, baby text back. He’s aware of every minute he spends away from Ilya. Why waste any of it pretending to be annoyed?
Ი⑅𐑼 Tip: Imitation behaviours ･ ༝ ･
Sometimes your bunny will attempt to imitate your behaviour instead of the desired response. This is your bunny’s way of understanding the stimulus. Punishing the bunny too severely at this stage will only serve to make them scared of the stimulus. Keep punishments limited and encourage the desired behaviour.
“Shane!” Rose calls from across the bar. It’s a place she’d suggested, hidden behind an unmarked door in Old Montreal. The bouncer had checked his ID against a list when he’d arrived.
He smiles and hugs her tightly, kissing her cheek when they pull apart. She’s practically fizzing with excitement: it’s the first time he’s seen her since he told her about his mystery man, Ilya cuddled up to him on the couch as they FaceTimed her. She had squealed so loudly Shane had almost dropped his phone. Shane, for his part, is high off a Boston-Montreal game followed by a rare day totally free. They’d spent it at Ilya’s apartment, moving from the bed to the sofa to the gym and back to bed for 26 wonderful hours before Shane had left for his flight.
“You better spill everything.” Rose demands as soon as they slide into a booth tucked away in the corner. She’d already ordered a bottle of wine for them, and pouts when Shane tells her he doesn’t drink during the season. She pours him a glass anyway, just in case!
Shane can’t hide his giddy grin. It feels so fucking good to talk about Ilya. They don’t say his name, of course, but he tells her about the dinner Ilya had cooked for them in Boston, ordering Shane’s favourite on-season foods and kissing him silly against the counter as they cooked.
“And?” Rose asks, gleam in her eye.
“And what?”
“And how was it after that?” She grins. “I want details, Shane!”
Shane decides that a small glass can’t hurt. And then another, when he starts to explain the fuzzy feeling in his head he gets when Ilya fucks him, the way he feels like he’s floating, or like the world is spinning softly around him. You know what I mean? he asks. No, I don’t, Rose tells him, leaning over the table towards him. Their faces are so close together. It makes Shane giggle, which makes Rose giggle.
Eventually, Shane slides out of the booth to go pee. He wanders through the dimly lit bar until he finds the mens room. It’s fancy, he thinks, a big self-contained bathroom with deep red tile and an old-fashioned pull handle toilet. As he’s unbuttoning, Shane thinks of Ilya. He giggles again. Fumbling, he pulls his phone from his pocket with one hand and his soft cock out of his boxers with the other. He records the video directly in his text thread with Ilya, his tipsy mind firing enough to realize sending this to someone else would be Bad.
He records a short clip, laughing softly in the background as he starts to piss. A couple of seconds, enough for his camera to capture the sound of his stream splashing, and then he hits send. He tucks his phone away, tucks his cock away, washes up and heads back to the bar.
A couple hours later, Rose calls her driver to take them back to Shane’s place. Rose is staying the night in his guest suite but she’ll be gone by the early morning, so he hugs her goodnight and promises to call her that weekend.
Shane does his skincare routine and settles into bed, hoping there’ll be a voice note from Ilya waiting for him. Instead, he has a handful of texts a few hours old.
Shane's stomach flips as he reads.
Then his phone is ringing, and when he picks up Ilya is already touching himself. Time unravels and as he begs please daddy, let me come, Shane distantly hopes the sound-proofing on his guest suite is strong enough.
Ი ᰍ ݃ ݁ᣟ݂ Step 3: Increase stimulus ⊹ ࣪ ˖
By now, your bunny should be comfortable with the introductory stimulus. At this stage you may increase the amount and or frequency of the stimulus, if required. Make sure to reward your bunny for any positive responses to the stimulus. If needed repeat step 2: comfort until your bunny is settled.
A long away stretch followed by a series of intense home games leaves Shane wrung dry. He misses Ilya so much that some days it feels like his chest might cave in. Their schedules don’t seem to align at all, Shane on a west coast stint while Ilya trips around New York, Philadelphia, Florida.
He looks forward to his nightly voice notes all day. He refuses to let himself even look at the message until he’s done his even stretches, skincare routine, flossed and brushed. Even better, he’s got a solo room on this road trip so he can stretch out and luxuriate in Ilya’s voice.
Tonight, a video is waiting for him. Shane feels his cock twitch before he even hits play. Ilya’s voice spills out into the room.
“Fuck, malysh, been thinking about you all day,” he moans. He’s laid out on his bed, holding his camera against his chest so Shane can watch him rub his heavy cock through his boxers. “Want you to be a good boy tonight, don’t come until I do. Can you be good for daddy?”
Shane nods in the empty hotel room. He wriggles impatiently on the bed, not trusting himself to touch his cock yet.
On screen, Ilya strokes his length through the fabric, hips twitching up into his touch. “Wish you were here, baby. Bet you’d take me all the way down that pretty throat, wouldn’t you?” He fumbles with his waistband, pulling his boxers down, letting his cock spring free and smack against his stomach.
Shane sucks his bottom lip into his mouth. Ilya keeps talking, “Want you to stroke yourself nice and slow, bunny. Copy me.”
Ilya strokes himself slowly, teasing his palm around the tip and gliding his precome over his head. He pauses, dipping his hand down to tug at his balls. “Uhh, Shanya, love it when you suck my balls, you look so good with my cock on your face.”
Shane whimpers, squeezing the base of his cock tight as Ilya does. He picks up the rhythm then, fucking up into his fist and groaning a torrent of praise — your mouth feels so good, want to fuck your pretty face, need those pretty lips stretched out around me baby. Shane is getting close, but he can tell Ilya is too, his hips jerking frantically up into his hand.
“Oh, fuck— bunny, I’m close, you can come after me— ah fuck, Shane.”
Shane squeezes his cock as he watches Ilya come in stripes up his belly. The sight of his come soaking into his dark treasure trail makes Shane’s head spin. He starts to stroke himself faster, so close now his daddy has given him permission. He whimpers, pressure coiling in his belly.
“Fuuuck, bunny,” Ilya moans, pulling the camera up to his chin so Shane can see from the come drying on his pecs all the way down to his cock. “Wish you were here.”
Shane watches as Ilya’s now spent cock twitches, resting soft against his hip. Ilya grabs it loosely in his big hand, pulls his foreskin down slightly. And then he starts to piss. His deep moan fills Shane’s ears as a stream of piss arcs up onto Ilya’s chest, soaking his chest and running down his abs to pool in his adonis belt.
Shane gasps and his fist tightens involuntarily. Fuck, he’s so close now, and he knows he should stop, turn the video off, but he keeps fucking into his fist, hips jerking wildly as he watches the sheets around Ilya darken. He whimpers as Ilya gently strokes his soft cock, rubbing his thumb over the slit, piss squirting around his hand and up his chest.
Shane comes with a jerk, shooting up his chest and onto his collarbone. His eyes squeeze shut, legs kicking uselessly against the bed as he strokes himself through it. Ilya’s voice is still in his ears, moaning as the muffled splashes of piss trail off.
“Fuck, baby.” Ilya lets out a breathy laugh, “I love you, zaychik.”
The video stops and Shane stares at the ceiling as his heart slows. His arms feel heavy. His throat feels tight. He wishes Ilya was with him.
His phone lights up as he lifts it and he spots another message below the video: a voice note. His fingers shake as he presses play.
“You still with me, baby?” Ilya’s voice is soft and Shane brings the phone to his ear and closes his eyes so he can imagine Ilya is right there, tucked up next to him. “Want you to clean up for me. Just quickly. Come on, we’ll go together.”
Shane manages to stumble to the bathroom and wipe his chest and hands with a washcloth, Ilya’s soft instructions filling his head. Next he’s told to get into bed, curl around a pillow like he’s hugging Ilya’s big arm with his head cushioned on Ilya’s soft upper chest.
“You’re so good for me, zaychik.” Ilya croons. “I can’t stop thinking about you. You make me lose control in the best way. I wish I could be with you always. Just want to take care of you.”
Shane feels all foggy now, any residual panic in his body dissolving with the soft wash of Ilya’s voice. “Ya tebya lyublyu. I love you. Love how much you trust me, baby. So good for daddy. Want you to text me before you go to sleep, okay bunny? Goodnight, sweetheart.”
The voice note ends and Shane sighs against his pillow. He fumbles with his phone for a moment, shooting off some quick texts before his mind starts whirling again.
A text awaits him in the morning.
The videos keep coming, almost daily now, morning and night. Shane watches them eagerly, headphones in and brightness up so he doesn’t miss anything. Ilya is louder now, freer with his stuttered groans and relieved breaths. He talks to Shane more, too. Wish you were here, zaychik. You’d look so pretty on your knees right now. My good bunny, want to take daddy’s piss? So good for me.
Shane can’t deny the attraction. He wants to be Ilya’s in all ways. It makes his heart jump that Ilya wants him, too, his possessive streak tangible even through the screen. The least Shane can do is give that love back. God knows his Ilya deserves it. Fuck, daddy, I miss you. Love watching you. Wish I was there. When he’s feeling particularly lonely and the walls of his apartment feel like they’re pressing in on him, Shane likes to read their text thread. It’s like a written marking claim. He wishes he could show everyone. Look! He wants to shout. See how deeply he loves me.
݁ Ი𐑼⋆ Step 4: Encouraging desired behaviour ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ໒꒱
Your bunny should be completely used to the stimulus at this stage. However, if they do not yet show the desired behaviour, don’t worry! Bunnies are quite dumb and sometimes need to be shown what to do. Next time you provide the stimulus, do not give your bunny a reward until they show the desired behaviour.
It takes Shane a second to realise what Ilya is talking about. He feels his cheeks flush as he remembers his drunk messages, the hot spike of lust in his stomach when Ilya told him to hold it.
The Metros land in Boston late on a Thursday morning. Shane texts Ilya now? when he deplanes and waits for his yes, baby in reply before he ducks into the men’s bathroom. He drops his stuff at the hotel, takes a quick nap, and goes to the small hotel gym to stretch before the team heads to the stadium.
After warmups, Shane sends Ilya a text.
The first period is fine. It’s a brutal game, always is against Boston, and Shane can’t think of anything except getting through their defense. After a tough shift, he shoots a long stream of water into his mouth. Ilya catches his eye and shoots him a wink, making Shane splutter. By the start of the second period, Shane’s revised his urgency rating to a 6.5. Maybe 7. He skates through it. Ilya slams him against the boards with his usual zeal, laughing softly as Shane groans when the hit jolts his bladder. Shane texts him as they break for the second intermission.
The team huddle wraps up. Hayden shoots Shane a questioning look as he texts Ilya again.
Ilya doesn’t reply. Shane sighs and pulls his helmet back on. He can go after the game. Third period goes fine, mostly. When he’s on the ice, everything else fades away. On the bench he fidgets awkwardly, breathing slowly through his nose as he tries to ignore the growing pressure in his abdomen. He tries almost as hard to avoid Ilya’s eyes. He can feel his gaze from where Ilya sits on the bench on the other side of the penalty box. He does pretty well, getting through a couple of shifts on the ice before he succumbs and turns to look at him. He smirks back. Ilya raises his eyebrows, shakes his bottle of water and nods at Shane’s own. Shane considers refusing. He drinks a gulp anyway, and then drinks some more when Ilya makes a little carry on gesture.
By the end of the period, he’s firmly on the wrong side of uncomfortable. He avoids Ilya’s eyes in the handshake line, rushes through his post-game interviews, answers more terse than usual, and showers quickly. He changes into comfortable clothes and calls an Uber straight to Ilya’s, slipping out the underground exit of the stadium into the cold night. He shivers as he waits, but the cold air eases some of the need pooling in his gut.
Ilya greets him at the door. Shane is already squirming, shifting his weight from foot to foot.
“Hello, baby,” Ilya purrs, leaning on the doorjamb to make Shane push past him into the apartment.
“Ilya. I need the bathroom.”
“Do you? I can’t tell.”
“Can I go? Please?”
“Not even a hello kiss first?” Ilya pouts at Shane. He rolls his eyes but ducks forward to press a quick kiss to Ilya’s lips. As he pulls back, Ilya grabs him, pushing away his arms as he wriggles. “You can do better than that.”
Shane tries to pull away again but Ilya grabs the back of his neck, squeezing. “Bunny.” He says, voice deep and warning. Shane melts and leans into him, meeting his lips as Ilya licks into his mouth. Ilya kisses him lazily for a minute, trying to hold back a smirk at the way Shane twists against him impatiently.
He pulls away to meet Shane’s eyes, bodies still pressed together. He strokes a thumb slowly down Shane’s jawline.
“Ilya,” Shane whines. Ilya raises an eyebrow. Shane blushes, and tries again. “Daddy. Please.”
“Okay bunny, let’s go.” Ilya turns and tugs Shane towards his bedroom, smiling at the little groan of relief that slips from him as they start to move. Once in the bedroom, Shane heads straight for the bathroom door. Ilya squeezes his hand and shakes his head when Shane turns to look at him.
Ilya settles against the headboard, legs stretched out on the bed in front of him. “Come here.”
Shane whimpers but crawls onto his lap, thighs stretched on either side of Ilya’s hips. Ilya pulls him down for another slow kiss. Shane wriggles in his lap, ass rubbing deliciously against Ilya’s cock. He pulls back to strip Shane’s shirt off and appreciates the long stretch of his body twitching, the little bump of his belly where his bladder is distended. He squeezes Shane through his grey sweatpants, cock half-hard despite his urgency.
“Daddy, please, I need to go.” Shane’s voice is higher than usual, need leaking in.
“Good boy for asking.” Ilya coos. “You can go, bunny.” His large hands stroke up and down Shane’s sides as he squirms. Shane lets out a whimper and pushes against Ilya’s shoulders, trying to slide off his lap.
“No, no, stay here. That’s a good bunny.”
“But you said I could go,” he whines, face scrunching up as he wriggles in Ilya’s grip.
“It’s okay, bunny, you can go here.” Ilya leans in to kiss along Shane’s collarbone. Shane is twitching against him, abs clenching as he whimpers and begs. No, no, daddy, I can’t, please. It’s almost too much for Ilya, the way his bunny jumps on his lap, his big thighs squeezing against Ilya’s hips where he straddles him. He wonders if Shane knows how shameless he looks, practically humping the air as he fights against himself.
Shane’s whole body jolts and he grabs the bulge of his cock over his sweatpants and squeezes hard.
“No, baby, no touching.” Ilya tuts, taking Shane’s wrist and pulling his hand away, clenching his nails into the sensitive skin when Shane resists. He lets out a muffled half-sob.
“No, daddy please, please let me— please I can’t hold it.”
“Why are you holding it, silly bunny? I said you could go.”
A fat tear traces down Shane’s cheek. He’s panting heavily in Ilya’s lap, desperate little noises punching out of him with every breath — uh, uh, please, uh. Ilya pulls Shane’s wrist behind his back and releases it, trusting his bunny to keep it there. He strokes Shane’s back slowly, feeling his pretty little waist clench and unclench. He snakes his hand over Shane’s navel. There is a pronounced bump where Shane’s bladder presses against his usually tight stomach. Ilya presses down hard.
With a shout, Shane doubles over against Ilya as he releases a spurt of piss. A small circle darkens the fabric on his sweats. He thrashes against Ilya. “No, no, ‘m not ready,” he cries, shaking his head violently as he squirms. Ilya wouldn’t be surprised if there are bruises on the outside of his hips tomorrow from how tight Shane’s thighs are squeezing him.
“You can, bunny.” He soothes, reaching his hand up to wipe the tears wetting Shane’s cheeks. His bunny is really starting to cry, face contorted and eyes red. A low moan punches out of Shane and Ilya looks down just in time to see his cock twitch as he releases another spurt. The damp circle covering Shane’s upper thighs darkens even further. Ilya can feel the heat of Shane’s need leaking down onto his own cock and he moans. “Such a good boy, fuck, baby.”
“No, Ilya please, no—” Shane gasps, his breaths coming quickly now, gasping and whining as he thrashes in Ilya’s grip. The tears are flowing too fast for Ilya to wipe away now. He bends over, face against Ilya’s shoulder and sobs loudly. Ilya strokes his back.
“No need to cry, bunny. You know what to do.”
“I can’t,” Shane wails, voice cutting off as his breath hitches. “Please, daddy, I can’t.” He pants frantically against Ilya, tears and snot rubbing into the base of his neck. His fingers clench tightly against Ilya’s biceps. His breathing gets even faster, coming in harsh groaning gasps, chest and shoulders twitching against Ilya.
“Okay, bunny, it’s okay,” Ilya murmurs, taking pity on him. He sits up, Shane still cradled in his lap, and pushes to standing, arms tight around Shane's legs so he can carry him comfortably. It’s only a few steps from his bed to the master bath, but he feels wetness leaking through his pants as they move. Poor baby bunny, he whispers. Shane is clutching his neck tight, legs squeezing around his hips. “I have to put you down, baby.” Ilya pats Shane’s thigh to encourage him.
Shane nods into his neck and slowly releases his grip. Ilya helps him stand straight and then gently turns him to face the toilet. Shane sobs and his knees buckle as he starts to piss.
“Shh, it’s okay.” Ilya helps him pull his spurting cock out of his drenched sweatpants and takes him in one big hand, aiming his stream for him. It’s so loud as it hits the water, the pressure of Shane’s bulged bladder finally spilling over. Shane’s breathing has calmed a bit now, his head tipped back against Ilya as he releases.
“Good boy, bunny, let go,” Ilya whispers, breath hot against Shane’s neck. Despite everything, his bunny is still half-hard and Ilya can feel his cock twitch in his grip as his stream slows. Shane whimpers something and squeezes his eyes shut tight. “Didn’t hear you, baby.” Ilya noses against his face, leaving sweet little kisses along his brow bone.
“Daddy, please.” Shane whines, louder this time. Ilya hides his smirk in Shane’s hair.
“You want more, bunny?” he asks, starting to stroke Shane as the final spurts of piss trickle out. Shane’s cock jerks and Ilya watches as he fills out in his grip. “You’re so good for me, baby, it’s okay.”
He jerks him off like that, one arm wrapped tight around Shane’s middle to hold him in place. Shane whines and twitches in his grip as Ilya roughly pumps his cock, his wet hand gliding and squeezing him tight. Ilya talks to him the whole time, a constant stream of good boy, my perfect bunny, so good for daddy, you tried so hard, that makes Shane’s eyes roll back. He thrusts into Ilya’s grip frantically, so close to the edge.
“Poor baby bunny, you just need daddy to help you, don’t you?” Ilya teases. “Next time you can help daddy piss too, okay?”
Shane moans wantonly and his back arches as he comes, shooting onto the bathroom floor. The wave of pleasure leaves him gasping, vision blurring as his eyes roll back. He slumps against Ilya, nerves tingling. He feels blank, mind stripped of anything except the press of Ilya’s warm body on his back, his breath on his neck as he moves them gently. Ilya holds him tight and his voice floats into Shane’s mind as he slowly surfaces.
“There’s my bunny. You feeling okay, sweetheart?”
Shane nods slowly, smiling up at Ilya. They’re tucked in bed now, he realises. Ilya must have cleaned him up. “Ye-” His voice croaks. He swallows. “Yes, I’m good.”
“Good. I love you bunny.” Ilya kisses him and holds him tight.
𑣲𑣲 Tip: Positive reinforcement ⪩ ⪨ ꠹
Remember that bunnies are needy creatures that require love and affection. Positive reinforcement such as cuddles in the presence of the stimulus will only strengthen your bond with your bunny and make them more inclined to perform the desired behaviour. This can help bunnies that are struggling to adopt the desired behaviour.
The worst thing about a Boston-Montreal game is the weeks apart that follow. Shane stayed as long as he could in Ilya’s apartment, making up some excuse about a photoshoot so he could fly back alone the morning after his teammates. Ilya had kissed him so sweetly at the door and Shane had been really good and held in his tears all the way until he closed the door of his own apartment. It gets harder for him each time. The dynamic they’ve sunk into, Ilya taking care of him in ways even Shane doesn’t realise he needs, settles a part of his mind. But the further they slip, the more Shane misses him. The more he realises this is it for him, that he wants to be with Ilya always, and feels the denial of that need like a rod forced through his chest.
Ilya is so sweet to him these days, too. Always calling him, leaving him voice notes, telling him he’s so good, the perfect bunny, so fucking sexy, everything I want. Shane’s pretty sure Ilya could read him his meal plan and that deep voice would make him shiver with pleasure.
He waits all day to talk to Ilya. Sometimes they don’t even jerk off, they just talk and talk until Shane can’t keep his eyes open any longer and Ilya softly tells him to sleep. Most times they do, though.
Ilya has started testing him more, making him wait to piss. They’d agreed some hard limits: Shane could always piss before and during a game (unless he didn’t want to), Ilya would not deny him around his parents, and he could ask Ilya for blanket permission any day he needed it. He’s not asked for it yet. He loves the way it builds. The pressure reminds him so deliciously of Ilya.
Ilya knows it, too. Shane wakes up, watches his morning video from Ilya (sent late last night for Shane to wake up to), and texts him Good morning daddy. Can I go? Ilya is still asleep and Shane knows that won’t change soon. He goes on his morning run and is halfway through his smoothie when Ilya texts back. Yes, bunny, make it count. You only get 3 today.
Shane uses his first one then. He waits until after practice for his second. It’s a tough practice, preparing for a big game against Toronto later that week, and Shane downs two bottles of water and half a Gatorade before he finally gets a chance to piss. He waits for his third. Sometimes he worries he’s too logical with this game, calculating the precise times he needs to sleep and eat and train and planning to piss around them. Ilya laughs when he tells him this. “No, you’re perfect bunny. Is a fun challenge for you, yes?”
Ilya calls him that evening after his afternoon game. They chat easily about the game for a bit (an easy win for Boston, Ilya so casual about beating Buffalo’s defense it makes Shane’s dick twitch) until Shane starts to fidget. He plays it off for a while, wandering around his apartment and getting ready for bed so Ilya won’t see how he’s holding it in.
“Sweetheart,” Ilya asks, laughter in his voice, “Do you need something?”
Shane shakes his head. He still gets embarrassed to ask Ilya like this, without the distance of the phone screen between them. He clenches his thighs together to fight back his growing urge.
“Okay, bunny, I want you on your bed for me then.”
Shane scrambles to obey, stripping his clothes off and setting his phone up on his bedside table so he can see Ilya.
“Good boy. I want you to watch me. You can touch yourself, but do not come, understand?”
Ilya strips slowly, taking his time to touch himself like Shane does, squeezing his full chest and twisting his nipples, dragging his fingers down the dark strip of hair on his stomach. It makes Shane’s mouth water. He copies him, imagining Ilya’s big hands.
“Have a new toy to show you, bunny,” Ilya groans. He reaches off-screen for a moment and brings back a cylindrical toy. He brings it up close to the camera. The end is shaped like a pussy, moulded lips on either side of the entrance. A fleshlight. Shane pouts, his hands stilling against his nipples. “Jealous bunny,” Ilya teases, “Is only for when I can’t fuck your little pussy, zaychik.”
Shane whimpers. He twists upright to kneeling, legs spread wide so Ilya can see his cock hardening in his boxers. A wave of need hits him, bladder spasming and cock twitching as he fights the urge to pee. He squirms, twitching his hips forwards and backwards to try and shake off the sensation.
“Something to ask, bunny?”
“N-no, daddy,” he whines.
Ilya watches him with hooded eyes, his hand moving off-screen and Shane can hear the soft shlick of his hand on his cock. “Fuck, Shane, wish I had your mouth on me.” He groans.
“Want that, want to be good for you.” Shane’s hips jerk forward and he reaches down to squeeze his cock. He’s so hard he’s not sure he could even piss right now, but his bladder is pressing insistently against lower belly.
Ilya raises the fleshlight to the camera so Shane can watch him finger it open. Once the lips are glistening, he stands and adjusts his camera so Shane can see his torso and thick thighs. He’s holding the fleshlight at the edge of his bed, leaning his weight down over it as he pushes his cock in. His moan fills Shane’s room. He starts to fuck it hard and fast, setting a punishing pace. Shane reaches into his boxers to stroke himself in time. Despite the heat in his belly, his cock is flagging slightly as the need to piss presses down on him.
“Ugh, zaychik, you feel so good for me,” Ilya moans. Shane can’t take his eyes off Ilya’s cock disappearing into the toy. He wishes he could watch them like this, see himself take Ilya’s cock over and over. His whole body twitches and the pressure on his bladder becomes unbearable.
“Oh, fuck, please can I go,” he whines. A dark patch spreads on his boxers as he leaks. He feels like he’ll pass out if he has to hold it any longer.
“Not yet, baby.”
Shane’s breath hitches, a half-sob. He squeezes the tip of his cock tight through his boxers. Ilya slows down, fucking the toy with long, rolling thrusts. He’s moaning Shane’s name, a mixture of Russian and English slipping from his lips. Shane feels like he’s being shocked, the zinging pleasure as he strokes his cock butting up against the insistent pressure of his need to piss.
“Need to go, please daddy,” he whimpers again.
“Ugh— okay, bunny, together.” Ilya groans, slowing down until just the tip of his cock is buried in the fleshlight. Shane watches his cock jerk and he lets out a long, low moan. Heat shoots through Shane as he understands: Ilya is pissing into the toy.
“Oh, fuck, daddy,” Shane moans, another spurt of piss leaking into his boxers. “Can’t hold it.”
“Then let go for me, bunny.” Ilya starts to move, fucking slowly into the toy. “You feel so good, baby, so hot around me.” His piss sloshes out around his cock. Shane is almost on the verge of tears now, the wet sounds of Ilya fucking his own piss into the fleshlight pushing him so close. His abs and thighs are spasming with the tension of trying to hold his bladder. He can see himself in miniature on his phone screen, squirming and twisting his body as he denies himself.
“Go on, bunny,” Ilya groans.
Shane whimpers and finally gives in. Heat floods his boxers, soaking his thighs and running down to the bed. He can’t hold in his moans as he releases, the tension finally unravelling, leaving his nerves tingling with relief. When he opens his eyes, he sees Ilya watching him, toy abandoned on the bed as he strokes himself frantically.
“Fuck, bunny, that’s it, you look so good,” Shane shudders as Ilya’s praise wraps around him. “My perfect boy, fuck zaychik, you are so fucking amazing, look at you.”
Shane’s stream finally starts to slow. His boxers are totally soaked and he scrambles to push them down his thighs so he can grab his dick, stroking himself back to full hardness quickly. He’s so wet, and the pleasure from finally relieving himself settles heavy over his body, his mind hazy like it is when Ilya holds him down. Ilya is still talking to him, soft deep voice crooning in Russian and English, washing over Shane and helping him float further into that sweet headspace.
Shane cries out as he comes and it’s like Ilya was waiting for him, tipping over the edge just after him. Shane shudders through the aftershocks and then slumps down, wet sheets pressing against his skin.
“Fuck baby, that was so hot. Are you feeling okay, bunny?” Ilya asks and Shane smiles, nodding slowly. Ilya talks to him softly for a few minutes before he starts to surface.
“Need to wash, Ilya,” he groans.
“Okay, bunny. Get up and head to the bathroom first, ok?” Shane stumbles to his bathroom and watches Ilya do the same on his phone screen. They wash up together. Ilya talks Shane through stripping his sheets. “That mattress protector I bought you is water resistant, okay, so don’t worry about the mattress, zaychik.”
Shane scrunches his nose slightly, something in his mind buzzing at that. When had Ilya bought him that? Months ago, not long after the cottage. He’s too sleepy to think it through, especially when Ilya is telling him to climb into his spare bed and burrow into the pillows. They talk quietly, faces right up close to their screens, until Shane feels his eyes slipping. Ilya tells him goodnight, baby, my best bunny, I love you.
“No asking tomorrow, bunny. Go whenever you need.”
“Thank you daddy.” Shane mumbles. He can’t quite pinpoint why that makes him a little sad.
Ი⑅𐑼 Step 5: Removal of stimulus ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ໒꒱
An important final stage of training is to ensure your bunny understands the desired behaviour even in the absence of the stimulus. Remove the stimulus without warning and monitor their reaction. A well trained bunny will be disoriented by the loss and perform the desired behaviour for you without prompting. When your bunny correctly shows the desired behaviour, it is important to reintroduce access to the stimulus and provide reward.
True to his word, Ilya doesn’t make Shane ask the following day. Or in the days that follow. Shane supposes he should be grateful — he has a few days of travelling, which makes asking permission tricky.
His morning messages stop, too. Not the good morning, sweetheart texts, just the videos. It must just be a lot for Ilya to remember every day. They are in different time zones at the moment, after all.
Shane is humming with excitement when he finally gets to see Ilya, a long six weeks after their last Boston-Montreal game. Ilya is playing the Admirals and Shane has a Speedo commitment in the city. He flies in the night before so he and Ilya can spend the night together before Ilya moves on to Detroit. Shane makes good use of the complimentary in-flight beverages on his trip from Montreal, drinking a couple ginger ales and a bottle of sparkling water over the course of 90 minutes in the air. He snags another bottle of water for the taxi ride to his hotel and by the time he arrives he is fidgeting from one foot to the other as he picks up the spare key Ilya’s left at the front desk.
Ilya is still playing when he arrives. Shane watches the rest of the game from the hotel room, stripped down to his boxers and pinching his nipples until he’s sure he’s going to vibrate out of his own skin. He knows Ilya likes to see him like this, all stretched out and waiting for his daddy to tell him he can have more. As expected, Ilya groans when he enters the suite, eyes dark as he prowls over to the bed.
Shane rises onto his knees to kiss him, long and filthy. His body twitches against Ilya’s broad chest, the pressure of his bladder close to peaking.
“Please, daddy, can I go?” he whimpers, pulling away to bury his nose in the crook of Ilya’s neck and suck the skin there.
“What was that, baby?” Ilya pulls him out by his hair to meet his eyes.
“I need to go.” Shane waits for Ilya’s smirk, the way his eyes narrow slightly as he takes in Shane’s desperation. It doesn’t come.
Instead, Ilya pulls back, a confused smile on his face. “Huh? Of course you can go, sweetheart.” He taps Shane’s ass lightly, moving away so Shane can crawl off the bed.
Shane doesn’t move for a moment. “Baby? Go on.” Ilya nudges his hip. Shane nods jerkily and clambers off the bed. He closes the bathroom door behind him and pisses quickly, mind whirring. Sure, Ilya had told him that morning he could go whenever, but Shane was so sure he would like this anyway. It’s only one of their games, though. Perhaps Ilya didn’t want to waste their stolen night together.
When Shane leaves the bathroom, his thoughts melt away at the sight of his boyfriend laid out on the king size bed, stroking his cock. He crawls on top of him and kisses him, his mind blissfully blank.
That’s the first sign something has changed for Shane. It makes him examine their other interactions. Maybe Shane has said something, made Ilya upset? Ilya overthinks in a different way to Shane, more internal, pushed down under his cocky veneer. Where Shane’s face betrays his emotions, Ilya has perfect mastery. He probably wouldn’t have said anything to Shane if he was upset. It’s the worst when they’re both unsure, orbiting each other and silently trying to mould themselves to the other’s preferences without ever talking about what that is. Shane doesn’t want that.
That’s pretty clear, Shane supposes. They had promised to be honest with each other and Shane doesn’t know what else he can do other than take Ilya at his word.
The season drags on, the games feeling longer and more brutal as they limp towards the playoffs. Boston and Montreal both have secured spots, but it doesn’t feel like they ease off the gas at all. Nightly FaceTimes become closer to weekly, their free hours swallowed up by sports massages and ice baths and extra hours of sleep.
It’s the fifth night they’ve missed each other now. Shane sighs as he climbs into bed. He misses Ilya on a fundamental level, of course, but he also finds it really hard to get himself off alone. He wants to be told what to do, close his eyes and listen to Ilya’s voice and feel the way his body reacts. The last couple times, he’s listened to an old voice note and jerked off in the shower quickly before bed. Tonight, he needs more.
He scrolls through his hidden folder, palming his cock lazily he surveys the collection of pictures Ilya has sent him over the past couple of months. It’s almost too much, he doesn’t know where to start. Ilya leaning against his squat rack, bare chest shining with sweat? Ilya playing with his big pecs, tweaking his nipple before panning the camera down to the outline of his cock in his sweatpants? Or jerking his cock in a hotel bathroom, biting down hard on the palm of one hand so he doesn’t wake his roommate?
Shane teases himself, working himself up until there’s a large wet spot of precome staining his underwear. He pulls them off and pulls his knees up so he can ghost his finger around his rim. He flicks to the next video in his folder. It’s one of Ilya’s first videos, barely sexual at all, just his soft cock pissing into the heavy stream of the shower. Shane’s stomach flips.
He watches it again, and then once more. Fuck, he wants it. Hands shaking slightly, he scrolls until he finds a video he really likes. Ilya is half-hard and pissing handsfree. His cock twitches violently, his stream jerking and soaking the toilet seat in front. He grabs himself and the video cuts off with a fuck, Shane. Another: Ilya’s in a hotel room somewhere, his phone propped against the bathroom mirror so Shane can see his torso over the sink. His hard cock is pressed right up against the edge of the sink, balls trapped against the cold porcelain as he pisses. He gets desperate halfway through, rutting against the side of the sink and moaning for his bunny. Shane grips his cock and squeezes hard, just the sight alone bringing him close. He swipes to the next. Ilya is in a public bathroom this time, stroking himself and coming onto the urinal with a groan before he releases a stream of piss.
Fuck, he’s so close. Shane squeezes his eyes, riding the wave of pleasure strumming his nerves. He imagines he’s there with Ilya, on his knees in front of the urinal, mouth open for Ilya’s cock. He’d swallow his come like a good bunny and then open up again, wait for the hot flow of piss against his face, his chest, maybe straight onto his cock if he’s been good enough. Oh, fuck, he’s coming, imagining Ilya standing tall above him, marking him so publicly.
He can’t help but flush when he opens his eyes. He closes his phone and throws it across the bed as if he can get rid of his thoughts along with it.
The Metros are eliminated from the playoffs in the second round, Colorado taking it in the 6th game. Shane has nothing left to say to the press, to his teammates, to his mom. Hayden gives him a one-armed hug as they leave the arena, tells him to take his time.
Ilya is playing, too, so he can’t even call him. He gets home, takes a long, hot shower and puts on a big hoodie he stole from Ilya’s apartment. There’s an itch under his skin. He just wants Ilya to scratch it, take him out of his head. He wants to feel like Shane, not Captain Hollander. Wants a reminder that Ilya loves him for him, wants him so deeply he would mark him, claim him, my bunny.
Shane scrolls through their thread, reading Ilya’s sweet messages, his filthy texts. It settles him a bit, but it’s not enough. It’s been 23 days since Ilya last sent him a clip of his morning piss, Shane calculates. Maybe he’s just being considerate and trying not to distract Shane in the playoffs. Fuck that. Shane wants it. Needs it. He belongs to Ilya. He wants to feel the consuming heat of being claimed again.
Ilya texts back almost two hours later. His game wrapped long ago, Shane knows that. He watched the post-game press on mute, focusing on the way the tendons in Ilya’s neck shifted as he spoke, the sweat cooling at the base of his throat.
Shame fills his mouth like bile. How has he become so pathetic? Crying in bed because his boyfriend is too busy to reply.
Fuck it. He texts Hayden to ask where the boys are. He changes quickly, grabs his wallet and calls an Uber before he can overthink it. The team cheer when they see him and rope him into tequila shots. This is where he should have been all along. He’s the fucking captain.
He stays out later than he has in a long while, until JJ throws up in the club coat check and they get asked to leave. Somehow, he manages to call them a taxi and drops JJ home. Fuck, he shouldn’t have broken the seal at the bar. He really needs a piss now. He wriggles in the back seat and watches the GPS count down the minutes until the taxi is pulling up in front of his house.
He scrambles out and up his driveway, crossing his legs as he fumbles with his keys. His urge has gone from a 6 to a 9 real fucking quick. His abdomen feels tight with the pressure, radiating into his lower back and down into his pelvis. Shane grabs his cock through his jeans as he rushes to the bathroom, walls blurring around him.
A wave of need slams into him as he gets into the bathroom and stops him cold at the door. He squeezes his thighs together and focuses on the sting of his fingernails cutting into his palm. If only Ilya were here. The wave recedes and Shane manages to cross to the vanity. He pulls his phone out and props it up against the edge of the sink. Hits record.
Shane manages to get his jeans halfway down his thighs before he can’t hold back anymore. His moan bounces off the tiled walls. “Oh fuck, fuck—” He grabs his cock through his soaked underwear, stream shooting like a fountain through the thin cotton. It starts to irritate his skin even through the soothing heat of his piss, so he pulls them down, too.
“Fuck, ‘m sorry, I couldn’t hold it,” he babbles, “Sorry daddy, I couldn’t.”
He’s panting like he’s just finished a shift on the ice by the time he’s done. He sinks to his knees in the mess he’s made on the floor. Before he can think, he reaches up and hits ‘send’ on the video.
Ilya’s texts come through almost instantly, one buzz after another until Shane’s phone falls from the counter onto the floor next to him.
Shane calls him right there from the bathroom floor and lets Ilya pull him all the way under.
⋆˙⟡ Step 6: Enjoy your trained bunny! ⋆˙⟡
Your bunny should now be fully trained. It will take independent pleasure from the stimulus and beg for it if you take it away. Positive reinforcement in the presence of the stimulus is no longer required.
Shane has never been so happy to see the gates of his cottage come into view. He pulls his car roughly into park and downs the last of his water before he hops out. Ilya is leaning against the doorframe, big arms folded against his chest. Shane wants to lick a stripe up his bicep and bury his nose in his armpit.
Ilya opens his arms wide and Shane throws himself at him, knocking them both a step over the threshold into the house. “Did you miss me, bunny?” Ilya teases.
“Fuck, yes,” Shane winds his fingers into his boyfriend’s curls and pulls him into a kiss. His patience slowly ran out on the drive, and he kisses him desperately, trying to bite his lower lip. He pushes his body against Ilya’s, hands snaking up under his shirt.
“You are excited today, bunny,” Ilya teases, pulling back to look at Shane and laughing when he tries to close the distance between them again. “Do you want something?”
“Ilya, please, I need you.”
“Show me.”
Shane drops to his knees in the entryway, faintly registering the slam of the door as Ilya pushes it closed. He yanks Ilya’s shorts down just far enough to free his cock and swallows him down, tongue pressing against the underside as he slides Ilya down his throat. Fuck, he needed this, feels close to delirious as he bobs his head, chest heaving. Ilya moans above him, hands knotting in Shane’s hair and encouraging him to take more, groaning as he chokes on his length.
“Fuck, zaychik, so needy for me.” Shane tries to nod his agreement, teary eyes looking up at him. It’s so good, the weight on his tongue, it almost melts his mind. Almost, if it weren’t for the insistent twinge of his bladder. He presses his thighs tightly together, and his body twitches hard. He grips onto the back of Ilya’s legs as he tries to fight the urge.
Ilya notices. “Bunny, why are you hopping around down there?” He yanks Shane’s hair hard to pull him off, wipes the tear that slips down his face.
“I’m not,” Shane whines. He’s slipping so fast, the combination of Ilya standing tall in front of him and the now-familiar hot press against his abdomen turning his brain into mush.
Ilya pulls him upright, squishing his cheeks between his thumb and fingers. “Do you need to ask for something?”
Shane shakes his head dumbly. “N-no, daddy.”
“Okay, bunny. Hop to the bedroom, then.”
Shane starts towards the bedroom, but Ilya grabs his shoulder. “That’s not hopping, baby.”
Hot embarrassment floods Shane’s body. He meets Ilya’s gaze, sees no trace of a joke there. He swallows hard. His body makes the decision for him: his bladder spasms and he twists his legs together, hopping on the balls of his feet as he squeezes his pelvic floor tight.
“Good bunny.” Ilya coos, smacking his ass and pushing him towards the door. Shane goes, hopping awkwardly up the steps to the master bedroom. Ilya follows slowly behind him, stripping his clothes off and leaving them strewn across the floor. “On the bed.”
Shane hops up on to the bed, letting out a little sob as the impact almost makes him leak. Ilya helps him pull his clothes off before pushing him onto his back and tucking a pillow under his hips.
“You’re going to be good for me, aren’t you?” His hands run down Shane’s sides, making him shiver. Shane nods his agreement. “Keep still for daddy.”
The lube cap clicks in softly. Shane’s whole body tenses and he pushes his head back into the bed, gripping at the sheets as the pressure of his bladder heightens. Ilya forces his thighs apart, holding one knee down to the bed. Shane whines loudly, trying to pull his legs back together to compress his pelvic floor muscles.
“Be fucking good,” Ilya snaps, one hand smacking Shane’s hard cock. Fuck, the pain cuts right through the push of his bladder and Shane gasps. The pain recedes faster than it came, the sensation of Ilya’s warm fingers teasing his rim replacing it.
Ilya fingers Shane open slowly, laughing as he squirms, torn between fucking down onto him and pulling away from the pressure on his prostate. It’s almost too much, the shivering pleasure radiating through his core and making him clench around Ilya.
“S-stop, stop, ‘m gonna piss,” he wails.
Ilya just laughs and continues his assault, tapping harshly against Shane’s prostate with two fingers. “Ah-ah, fuck,” Shane moans as the dam breaks, a spurt of piss shooting up his chest.
“Fucking pathetic, bunny,” Ilya growls. Shane flings one arm over his eyes, shame burning his face. His body convulses as Ilya massages his prostate mercilessly, piss spraying out of his cock with every thrust. Every curl of Ilya’s fingers makes his voice break on a breathy uh and forces a fresh spurt out of him. His chest is glistening, the sheets on either side of him dark.
“Fuck, daddy, I’m so close,” he slurs, cock twitching as the last dribbles of piss splash onto his stomach.
“So dirty. Dirty bunny sluts don’t need to come. I should tie you up and leave you like this.” He pushes a third finger into Shane, easing off his prostate as he scissors his fingers and stretches his hole out.
“No,” Shane whimpers, “Don’t leave me, need you.”
“What do you need, bunny?” Ilya asks, laughing at the way Shane’s face scrunches. “You need to use your words.”
“Please daddy, I need it,” he whines. “Need your piss.”
“Need it where? Should I go to the bathroom?”
Shane shakes his head violently. “No, no, I want it.” His poor bunny is so red in the face now. “I need it on me.”
“Fuck… you’re so disgusting, bunny. What would your team say if they saw you begging for me to piss on you?” Shane whines in response, one arm coming up to hide his face. Ilya snatches his wrist and drags it away. “No fucking hiding.”
Shane's stomach clenches at the thought of anyone else seeing him like this. Captain Hollander, stretched out, covered in his own piss and begging his boyfriend to piss on him. And in him, if he was lucky.
“Ju-just you, daddy, only you, please,” he whines. Ilya pulls his fingers away and lines his cock up, smacking the tip against Shane’s hole.
“You know,” Ilya starts as he finally pushes in, “you’re lucky to have me, bunny.”
Shane whines, nodding the best he can as Ilya forces his thick cock into him. “So lucky—”
“Let me finish, stupid bunny. You’re so lucky you have me. No one else would want such a dirty fucking bunny.”
Shane trembles, moaning loudly as Ilya starts to fuck into him. He forces Shane’s legs back further, skin slapping together as he pounds into his bunny. The wet sheets slide around under Shane, cooling drops of piss splashing from Shane’s stomach and chest onto Ilya as he leans over him and spits on the side of his face.
“You want daddy’s spit too, bunny? Daddy’s come and piss isn't enough for you, greedy little slut.”
Shane is gone, gasping and moaning with each rough thrust. He sticks his tongue out though, perfect little bunny, and Ilya obliges him with another thick glob of spit straight into his mouth.
“This is what dumb fucking bunnies want. You just need to get fucked and claimed. Isn’t that right, bunny?”
Yes, yes, thank you, Shane sobs. Ilya can feel his hole clenching around him. “Gonna come? Fucking piss slut.”
Shane sobs, back arching as he comes, splashing piss off the edge of the bed as he collapses back down. It sends Ilya over the edge. He presses their hips tightly together as he comes deep in Shane.
His bunny is floating. Ilya smacks his cheek twice, enough to get his attention. “Not done yet, bunny. You wanted something, didn’t you?”
It takes Shane a moment to remember what he’d asked for. “Yes, please daddy.”
Ilya pulls out, holds his cock in one hand and relaxes. Hot piss splashes against Shane’s tacky stomach. Ilya tilts, aiming his stream towards Shane’s spent cock to watch him jerk in overstimulation.
“Such a good bunny,” he croons. Shane strokes the pool of piss gathering in the crevices of his abdomen. He brings one finger up to his mouth, kitten licks the taste of Ilya off his fingertip.
“Fuck, Shane, you are filthy. My good fucking boy.”
Ilya can feel his stream slowing. With his final spurts, he lowers his cock to piss right against Shane’s hole, pink and gaping slightly. “So open for me bunny, I can just piss right into you,” He murmurs. Shane’s breath hitches and his cock jerks. “Next time, I’ll piss in your little hole properly sweetheart.”
He shakes the final dribbles from his cock over Shane as he finishes. Shane’s eyes have fluttered shut. He’s tracing his fingers back and forth over his wet hip.
Ilya crawls onto the bed and hovers over Shane, kissing him once, twice before pulling back.
“Baby? Bunny?” he whispers, waiting for Shane to look at him through half-lidded eyes, a dopey smile on his face. “You with me, sweetheart?”
Shane nods, “‘m here.”
“You are okay? That was a lot, baby.”
“I’m so good, baby. Thank you. I love you so much.”
“Fuck, I love you too, Shanya. My little piss bunny.” He kisses the tip of Shane’s nose, feeling it scrunch under his lips as Shane giggles.
BunnyLoversWiki > Bunny behaviour > Training 101
@Roz81
thanks this worked great 🙏 do u know how many times i can repeat the steps with a new stimulus before my bunny notices?
Posted: 12 Jun 2018 | 22:58 (EST +0:00)
@BestBunny [OP]
@Roz81 Hi! Bunnies are quite dumb. I wouldn’t worry about your bunny figuring it out at all. Have fun!
Posted: 14 Jun 2018 | 09:12 (EST +08:00)