Make the Grade
Buster Bunny makes a deal with his Gym Teacher to try and pass his class...
The school was quiet, dipped into silence by the clock on the wall that displayed a time far beyond the normal hours which students tended. Whereas most of the students had fled the grounds the moment the clock issued its precious tones of freedom, Buster Bunny simply gave a nerve wracked sigh and headed to the gym. Usually Physical education was one of his strong points- usually. He'd gotten a little too cheeky- a little too comfortable coasting along with his natural abilities- a little too arrogant with Miss Lola, and now that she'd decided to take a sabbatical midway through the year (something about the little bastards driving her crazy) He had been roughly and painfully introduced to his substitute- Arnold The Pitbull. And Arnold did not take kindly to Buster.
At all.
Buster gave a sheepish whimper; his body prone and vulnerable against the work out bench while his tail pressed against his back, completely exposing the rounded cheeks of his firm little behind to the air- and more importantly, the large, hulking canine who stood behind him, eyeing the rounded blue targets with a gleam in his ever present sunglasses.
"YA! Little girly bunbun, you want to pass gym class, ya?!" The muscle bound gym teacher snarled, pressing the little bunny firmly against the bench with a weighted application of his fingers, forcing Buster's chest down and his rear end up, the twin cobalt cheeks brushing faintly across the bulging front of the instructor's speedo.
"Y, yes..." Buster squeaked- and squealed when he felt the heavy hands press down on him again, nearly crushing him against the work out bench, forcing another helpless little choked squawk from the bunny.
"Yes. What?" Arnold asked quietly, eyes narrowed under the sunglasses he wore which mirrored his target, wiggling, squirming- begging to be stuffed with fat canine arousal. Buster swallowed dryly and dared to peek over his shoulder, letting his eyes trickle across the masterfully muscled form of his gym teacher. He was starch white in fur coloring with muscles atop of muscles, pecs like mountains and biceps like boulders; Buster couldn't get away even if he tried. Even if he wanted to.
The bunny bit at his lower lip, nibbling a moment in though over Arnold's presumption as to what to be called and swallowed another gulp of empty air.
"Y, yes...sir?" He squeaked. The pressure on his back let up, only to twist into pressing around his belly; the hulking giant of a canine was dragging him towards the end of the bench into a position where, not only was he presenting himself, he looked out right slutty. His little blue bottom wiggled in the air with cute the little tick tock wiggles of his tail and a strong petite curvature that begged for Arnold's attention. The larger male gave an impressed groan and pressed himself forward, now grinding the front of his bulging speedo lewdly along the cleft of Buster's perfect little bottom.
"And how do you plan to pass?!" The instructor barked into the empty weight room, his voice carrying out into the silent, empty halls of the building, caked in the darkness of the evening, well after hours. Buster gulped again, his cheeks beginning to pinken under the humiliation of what he was about to let spill from his lips; the very idea sending a new tint to the glow across his face, changing the gentle tint of rose to a thick and harsh scarlet.
"I..I'm w, willing to do whatever you want...Sir...even present myself like this...for you t, to take my...little...bunny...hole..." Buster sputtered, his voice giving out half way through the declaration of his desires to pass the class, his hips subtly rolling upwards, grinding the bared cleft of his rump against Arnold's drooling, throbbing speedo. The pit bull grinned and a lecherous little growl trickled from his lips, forcing a frosty shiver to trickle down the poor bunny's back.
"Show me." The voice echoed in turn, cast out and bouncing across the walls of the weight room- as if he were screaming Buster's humiliating secrets to the entire school, leaving the bunny trembling against the workout bench.
Buster was slow to answer Arnold's request- tentatively drawing his paws back to caress the cheeks of his backside, with a mountain tension. He gripped either little half moon and pried them apart, exposing the adorable little pink divot of promising satisfaction to Arnold- who struck immediately without a moment's hesitation. Somewhere between telling Buster to 'show him' and the actual act of the bunny displaying himself, he had tugged his speedo down- or maybe it merely tore off due to the nine inches of fat pink canine that jutted out violently from his crotch.
It didn't matter.
Buster squealed.
The first thrust was always the hardest.