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Easter Egg Hunt


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Still working on it. Any requests? I can't likely please everyone, but you may come up with things I wouldn't have thought about. If you were making a list of things to put on those little colored slips, what would you want on there?

I suppose that would depend on what color the slips are and what the theme of each one is.

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this is one of the hottest stories i've read here. the easter egg hunt idea is really creative (and more than a little twisted as well). thanks for writing, Barratboy, and along with everyone else, i'm eagerly awaiting the next installment.

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  • 2 weeks later...

I wasn’t the only bunny looking sweaty and sore – the green bunny’s ass was still quite red, and I wondered if he’d somehow gotten hunted by two men in a row who’d wanted to spank him. There was time enough to grab a drink, and I swallowed the beer greedily, wanting to sate my thirst and trying to ignore how badly I wanted to jerk off. “Okay,” the bald and bearded host raised his hand again. “Last free hunt before the big finale. Everyone can hunt this time.” I had no idea what “free” meant.

The host led us again out from the great room, this time into the back yard and down to one of the two smaller outbuildings. Once inside, I realized it was some sort of studio now, given the canvases and easels and the cabinets of paint and brushes. Once in the studio, we got our eggs from the host again and the bunnies took a quick look around. I wondered how the twelve men were all going to fit in here, let alone hunt around the room without stumbling over each other. I settled for putting my egg in the small space formed between two leaning canvases against a wall, and joined the host and the other bunnies outside as they found places for their eggs. The host led us back to the main room, and said, “We’ll be back in a bit,” with a lewd grin, and led the men out into the night.

“Your ass looks so sore,” the yellow bunny said to the green bunny. “The big black guy really likes to spank butt,” he said in reply, but he was grinning. There was time enough for us to each nibble a bit of the food before the noise outside made it obvious they were returning. We gathered together near the fireplace, and the host led the men into the room. It was obvious from the grins and smirks on the faces of half the men who’d found eggs. It was the guy who’d reminded me of Mr. Clean who walked up to me, white egg in hand. Earlier he’d said, “You’ll do.” I guess I was about to find out. He was stocky, with a shaved head, and behind his black leather mask his eyes were a pale grey-blue. Once again he hooked his thick arm around my neck, and gave me a rough squeeze. And up the stairs we went.

*

We’d barely made it through the door before his arm released my neck just long enough to shove me, hard, in the middle of my back. I stumbled forward and barely managed to stay on my feet as he closed the door behind him, turn around, and started to undo his belt. “On your hands and knees,” he said. I obeyed, wondering which slip of paper had belonged to this man. Was this one of the men who’d wanted some foot worship, maybe? Had I checked that off? I couldn’t remember, and between the first two men I’d been with – and the completely lack of opportunity for me to blow my own load – I was horny, confused, scared, and nearly blind with the urge to get off. He walked around me, and with no warning, his booted foot pressed up between my legs, pushing my aching balls tight against my stomach as he lifted. I shifted, trying to raise a little on my toes, but he simply raised his leg higher, and soon it was all I could do to balance on my hands and the tips of my toes while he bore my weight on the front of his boot – and my balls and dick in the jockstrap – making me cringe and wince. The shove to the left made me topple, and I rolled over onto my side. When I looked up at him, he nodded once, and used his boot again to push me all the way over onto my back. I lay there on the floor, looking up at him, as he unzipped his jeans and tugged out a thick, uncut cock. He left his vest on, and those pale eyes regarded me with a kind of cold amusement. He lifted his booted foot again, and lowered it onto my jock. I braced myself as he started to rub the treads on sole of the boot up and down a bit on the cloth of the jock, my hard dick rubbing against the cloth, my stomach, and the pressure of his foot. Sure enough, he pressed down harder. And harder. I bit my lip, tilting my head back and moaning as what began with a light rub moved to something that felt closer to a hand-job, and then moved past that into something approaching pain. He leaned forward, putting real pressure on my cock and balls, and all but ground his booted foot into my crotch. I yelped and tried to pull away, and he smirked down at me, holding me in pace with one powerful leg. When I peered up at him with eyes filling with tears, I saw he was stroking himself leisurely. "Yeah,” he said. “You’ll do.” There was one more bounce of pressure and then he removed his foot, stepping back. “Up on your feet,” he said.

Easier said than done. The burning ache in my balls and cock made it harder to get up than I’d imagined. I rocked onto my side, then slowly managed to get back upright. He nodded when I was standing, and reached out with one hand to cup my jock. His squeeze – even though it was gentle – made me jolt, somewhere between fear and apprehensive arousal. The smile he gave me let me know that was exactly what he was looking for. He pulled away, and ordered me to give him the jockstrap, which I did, sliding it down – my dick already half-hard again, despite the abuse (or maybe because of it) – and he nodded. He turned me around, and used the jock to loosely pull my wrists together behind my back. Then he turned me back again, shoved me into the wall, covered my mouth with his and gripped my balls with one hand so tightly I pretty much screamed into his mouth. His dick was rock hard against my stomach. Both hands began to alternate between tugging, twisting, and squeezing my balls and the shaft of my cock. Most of the time, he seemed to want to swallow my response – his mouth pretty much covered mine the entire time – but now and then he’d lean back, let me catch my breathe, and say, “Not a sound.”

I’d nod, and then desperately try to obey while he squeezed or twisted or tugged until I was biting my lip and my eyes were clenched closed with the effort to stay silent. Then he’d shove me back against the wall, and grind his cock into my stomach while his hands continued to assault my balls and dick with relentless strength. Tears spilled from my eyes – he licked at them – cries escaped my mouth – he filled my mouth with his tongue – and always his fingers tugged, twisted, pinched, and pulled. Finally, after what felt like hours – but couldn’t have been, since there was no bell from downstairs – he shoved me again, pushing me against the wall and stepping back a half-step, and then forced me down onto my knees. Dick in hand, he jerked over me until thick ropes of his cum sprayed across my face, chest, and upper thighs. He nodded down at me, taking in deep breaths while I did the same. My balls and cock felt like they’d swollen to twice their size, though when I looked down I saw that while incredibly reddened, he’d obviously learned a thing or two about how to handle a guy’s dick without truly harming it. I was shaking. He took my chin and tilted my head up. I met his gaze. “You did good, boy,” he said. The bell sounded.

It took me a while to get up and to pull the jockstrap from my wrists. I had to wipe myself off, and then left my room with a wider-stance to my walk than I was used to – the jock-strap now felt all the more confining with my reddened, man-handled skin. I was the second-last to come down the stairs, followed by the green bunny, who was pretty much limping, his ass obviously having now been plowed after his earlier spanking session. He gave me a gamey smile though, and I found myself nodding at him. It felt almost like being drunk, or high. Once again, all the men and bunnies had gathered in the main room. It was so late now, and the obvious smells of sweat and spunk were heavy in the room. It seemed like everyone had a drink in hand – I grabbed one of the offered red-bulls and swallowed it down without really tasting it, and felt it hit my stomach with a cold rush. “Okay,” the bald and bearded host said. “Last hunt. This time we’re going to give the bunnies a bit of influence, like we did two years ago –“ that got a big smile from most of the men in the room “- and so we’ll go with the baskets. They’re in the kitchen.” He turned to us, and smiled, saying “You’ll find a basket for each of the men present, with the colored slips you filled out attached – one per basket. You’ll also find that most of their baskets already have your eggs inside them – after each hunt, your eggs were pulled out of the baskets of the men you’ve already had fun with.” Here he seemed to meet my gaze, and I felt my dick lurch in my jockstrap. “You’re going to be given more eggs – and the eggs they took out – and you’re going to add them to the basket or baskets of your choice. Each man will draw an egg from his basket.” The bunnies nodded, though I saw the one in the red jock frowning a bit. “What if no one pulls out a red egg?” he asked. It hadn’t occurred to me, but it was a good point. Also, they doubled our number, so a duplicate was inevitable. “We’ll get to that if it happens.”

I was about to ask about the duplicate, but the bunny in the green jock said, “Let’s go!” and the bald bearded host laughed and directed us to the kitchen, and showed us the pile of plastic eggs on the counter, then left. I picked up my half-dozen white eggs and looked at the dozen baskets – and then remembering my ex-daddy bear’s note – looked at the basket that had the blue piece of paper on it. I lifted the cloth that covered the basket’s contents. There was already one white egg in there. I hadn’t been with him yet. I put all the rest of my eggs in the basket that had the blue slip of paper attached to it, and then stepped back. “Well, we know who you want,” the green bunny laughed, popping his eggs in all the baskets that didn’t already have a green egg in them. I felt myself blushing, and nodded. “You’ve done this before,” I said. He nodded at me while the other bunnies took their turns. The red bunny was really taking his time. “What happens if we get drawn multiple times?” He smiled and winked. “Why do you think I put my eggs all over the place?” I was about to ask him what he meant, but the red bunny said, “we’re done!” and the bald bearded host returned. I guess I was about to find out.

*

Edited by Hotload84
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  • 3 weeks later...

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