“I’m very pleased to meet you,” said the Baroness to Raine, in a polite, soft, lilting, richly-accented voice. The tall, ethereal fey had introduced herself as nothing more or less than ‘The Baroness’. “Would you care to give me your name?”

“Sure,” Raine replied automatically. “It’s Raine.”

She froze.

She was talking to a fey. This was the fey realm. That was the only explanation. She’d been walking home from work, and as she often did, had taken a small detour to walk through the edges of the big, old forest that surrounded her hometown. Entirely by chance, she’d noticed something a little deeper into the woods. An unusually large, unusually colorful ring of toadstools. Raine had been sure it hadn’t been there the day before, and so, curious, she’d decided to investigate. Reaching down to briefly touch one of the odd, white-and-red spotted mushrooms, she’d felt herself suddenly pulled forward by something, as if she was somehow falling into the ground.

The fall had left her dizzy and disoriented, but when she came to, she found she was somewhere very different. She wasn’t in a forest anymore. She appeared to be standing in the grounds of a very large, very grand mansion. There was no sign of where she had arrived from, or how, but behind her was a vast hedge maze that seemed to stretch on all the way to the horizon, and in front of her was a little flower garden with a long dining table running its whole length. And that was where she’d met the Baroness, sitting on a silver throne at the head of the table.

And now she’d given the fey her name.

In Raine’s part of the world, tales and stories of the fey folk were everywhere. She’d been raised on them. There were many, many different myths and legends, but a common thread running through all of them was a set of very simple rules that you were meant to follow if you ever found yourself dealing with a fairy.

One: don’t tell them a lie, lest it become the truth.
    Two: don’t play pretend, lest it become reality.
    And three: never, ever give them your name.

She had just broken the third rule.

“Could you tell me that one more time, pretty girl?” the Baroness asked sweetly.

“It’s… it’s…” the girl who had been Raine opened her mouth to answer, but she suddenly found herself drawing a blank. “W-why can’t I remember my name?” she asked out loud, suddenly panicked.

“Oh, well, that’s because it’s not your name anymore, silly.” The Baroness laughed indulgently. “And when you give something to someone, it isn’t yours anymore. It’s theirs. Don’t you see? ‘Raine’ isn’t your name now. It’s mine.”

“Raine…” the girl breathed. At first, she felt like the name meant something to her, but it didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel as familiar and fitting as it once had. And within moments, she forgot it again, the word ‘Raine’ slipping through her mind like water slipping through her fingers.

“Don’t worry, pet,” the Baroness said comfortingly, although the sinister, too-wide grin on her face was anything but comforting. “I’m sure you’ll find a new one, sooner or later. But for now, why don’t you join me? I was just about to indulge in a little hunting, you see.”

“I-”

“No, wait,” the Baroness interrupted. “You will join me on my hunt. I insist on it. And you see, this is my house, so I’m afraid you really don’t have much choice in the matter.”

“I, um, w-what?” The girl was too confused to argue. She had lost her name and she was feeling a strange weakness in the face of the Baroness’s words, like the fey’s presence alone was sapping her willpower. “W-what are we hunting?” she asked absent-mindedly.

“Oh no.” The Baroness wagged a finger. “Not we. You’ll be joining me, but not as a fellow hunter. You, my dear girl, will be my quarry.”

“What?” The girl spat, alarmed.

The Baroness ignored her obvious panic. “The only question is,” the fey mused, “what will you be? Let me get a proper look at you.”

The tall, slender fey darted lithely towards the girl, circling her a little too close for comfort and occasionally reaching out to prod or grab at her. The girl was frozen to the spot with terror, captivated and held helpless by the Baroness’s strange aura. She couldn’t fathom why the fey seemed so interested in her, and so eager to carefully inspect her body. What was there to see? The girl was tall, with a thick, messy mop of auburn hair. She had an athletic build; in college she’d been on the track and field team, and since graduating she’d kept in the habit of exercising and running. Her strong, toned thighs and wide hips were the only things that really made her stand out. But the Baroness seemed fascinated by every little detail of her form. The girl felt uncomfortably like a piece of livestock being sized up for slaughtering. But what could she do? Run? She had a feeling she couldn’t escape the Baroness, and besides, where could she run to?

There was little more the girl could do than try to study the Baroness in return, hoping to get a sense of her strange host and what she might be capable of. The powerful fey was far more unnerving than most of the fairies the girl had read about in her childhood stories. She looked human, almost, but from up close there were a hundred tiny, uncanny details that gave her away. She was exceptionally tall, at least seven feet, and a little too slender and willowy for any mortal being. Her fingernails were too long, her skin too pale, and her teeth too sharp. Her eyes were the biggest giveaway. They simmered with a sinister red-purple glow, and looking at them for too long gave the girl a throbbing headache. When she met the Baroness’s uncomfortably piercing gaze, she thought she could see huge, insectoid wings unfolding from the fey’s back, but when she looked, there was nothing. The Baroness was an impossible creature.

The fey’s manner of dress was just as peculiar. She was wearing what appeared to be a very long Victorian tailcoat, dark green in color, and with a very tight fit that only accentuated the Baroness’s sleek, subtle feminine form. Her hair was red as flame, and tied up in elaborate braids. Underneath the tailcoat was a ruffled dress shirt and a smart pair of trousers. Curiously, the Baroness was barefoot, although her feet seemed untouched by dirt or grub. She really did look like something out of a strange old fairytale - the kind that gave you nightmares, even if they weren’t supposed to. Around the Baroness’s neck was a large pendant made of silver, in the form of a complex Celtic knot. It was beautiful. The girl quickly found herself staring at it. The more she stared, the more she noticed all kinds of little details and pleasing patterns in the way the small threads of silver were interwoven. It was entrancing. Hypnotic. It-

“A rabbit!” the Baroness suddenly announced.

“What?” the girl asked, surprised.

“You’ll be a fine rabbit.”

“I’m not a rabbit!”

“Don’t be so hasty,” the Baroness admonished.

“Um… s-sorry,” the girl apologized, suddenly embarrassed.

“That’s more like it.” The Baroness smiled, showing teeth. “A rabbit hunt! Oh, I’m going to have such fun. When shall we get started?”

“Wait, I-”

“Right now? Of course! No time like the present, after all. Not that it really matters, here. It’s always the present, isn’t it?” The Baroness laughed. It was an incredibly unnerving sound. “Well, off you go! Get running!”

“What?” The girl was so confused, and she’d had enough. She needed to put her foot down somewhere. She needed to find a way home. That wasn’t going to happen if she kept playing along with this ridiculous charade. She found the Baroness oddly difficult to resist, but she needed to try. She’d already lost her name, and she didn’t want to lose anything more. “No! No, I’m not going to be part of this… this hunt. I refuse to do whatever you tell me. I’m staying right here until you send me home!”

The Baroness pouted; an absurd affectation on such a tall, ethereal creature. But then, she smiled again. “Well… suit yourself, I suppose.” The Baroness turned back to the dining table, and picked up something. It was something the girl hadn’t taken notice of before. A spear. It wasn’t quite like anything she had ever seen before. Its shaft was long and twisting, and the blade looked like it was made of shattered, sparkling glass. But there was no doubt it was wickedly sharp, and as the Baroness held it aloft in a practiced grip and turned back to the girl, there could be no doubt what it was for either. “But in that case, it will be a terribly short and boring hunt.”

The girl started backing away, eyes wide. She’d already been plenty scared, but now she was utterly terrified. The Baroness grinned at her fear.

“Go on, run!” the fey commanded. “Run for me, little rabbit girl. Run, run, run!”

The nameless girl turned and fled for her life. Heading away from the Baroness, there was nowhere for her to run to except the vast, dark, endless hedge maze stretching out before her. It scared her too, but she had no choice. With panic lending her speed, she plunged headlong into its abyssal depths, and in moments, she was lost.

***

Left. Right. Left. Left. Right. Left. Right. Right. Right. The girl sprinted and darted through the twisting passages of the maze, taking each turn according to nothing more than her instincts. Which, she was fully aware, meant she was essentially running around at random. It probably wasn’t wise, but she wasn’t sure what else she could do. Wasn’t there some kind of rule for getting out of a maze? Always follow the left-hand wall? Something like that? But the problem was, the girl wasn’t sure if she even wanted to escape. Wouldn’t that take her back towards the Baroness’s manor? She had no way of knowing if there was a way out on the other side, or anything hidden in the center. Besides, she’d already become convinced that any true navigation was impossible. The maze didn’t seem to obey consistent physical laws. More than once, she’d felt certain she was looping back around to somewhere she’d been before only to end up somewhere completely new, or had been heading in a perfectly straight line and found herself back at a familiar crossroads. For all she knew, the Baroness had enchanted the maze to make sure her rabbit hunt had a single, inevitable outcome.

Why a rabbit hunt? Why had the Baroness insisted she would be a rabbit? The girl was so scared she could barely think, but she still couldn’t stop turning that question over in her mind. A rabbit? She wasn’t anything like a rabbit. Was she? Sure, she’d heard a few cracks about it before. Quite a lot, come to think of it. She’d always loved eating carrots, and she’d always been particularly good at athletics events like the long jump and high jump. But that didn’t mean anything, and besides, the Baroness didn’t know anything about that. Did she? It was hard to tell, when she was dealing with such a strange creature. Given the kinds of stories she’d heard, it didn’t seem impossible. But the girl only knew one thing for sure: she needed to hold on to her humanity. She didn’t want to lose more than just her name. 

It was proving difficult, though, to focus on anything at all. The twisting passageways of the hedge maze were somehow hypnotic, and at every turn, the girl had to think about the Baroness, who was surely right on her tail. She kept hearing ominous sounds from all around her: footsteps, leaves rustling, twigs snapping underfoot. It was hard to be sure they were real, and even harder to judge how close they might be, but each sound filled the girl with fresh terror and spurred her onwards. She had no time to think, no time to plan. She just had to run.

“Oh, hello there!”

The girl wheeled around at the voice, terrified the Baroness had found her. But no. Without realizing it, she’d stumbled into some kind of small, brightly lit clearing. And she wasn’t alone there. Sitting at a small table, just a few paces away from her, was another fey. A pixie. They too were slight and slender, although unlike the Baroness they were very small. They wore a pretty summer dress, and had two pairs of dragonfly wings folded on their back as they sat, daintily sipping at a porcelain teacup.

“Um… hello?” The girl was reluctant to stop running, but she needed a moment to catch her breath. Besides, this pixie didn’t seem as threatening as the Baroness. “Could you tell me where we are?”

“I’m afraid not.” The pixie had the same kind of strange, lilting voice as the Baroness, although much higher-pitched. “I don’t know either, you see.”

“You’re lost too?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say so.” The pixie seemed bemused by the suggestion. “I’m quite content here.”

“Right,” the girl said, after a long pause. “Well, um, I need to be going now. Please don’t tell the Baroness you saw me.”

“You’re her new pet? The rabbit?” The pixie looked at her with fresh interest. “Not yet, I suppose.”

“Um…” Pet?

“You must be having a tough time,” the pixie said sympathetically.

“I… yes,” the girl admitted. Sympathy was the last thing she’d expected. “She’s… she’s right on my heels! At least I think she is. It’s hard to tell.”

“Well, of course it is!” the pixie exclaimed. “You’ve no hope at all, the way you are now. You need better hearing! That way, you can hear her coming.”

“That would actually be pretty nice,” the girl agreed. If she could tell where the Baroness was coming from, she might be able to keep her at arms’ length.

“Want me to help you out with that?” the pixie offered.

“Would you? Yes please!” The moment the words left the girl’s lips, she realized what a horrible mistake she’d made. “No, wait, I didn’t-”

The pixie, ignoring her protests, raised a hand and snapped her fingers. The change was instant. The nameless girl reached up in shock as she felt two big, floppy rabbit ears sprout from the sides of her head. They were over six inches long and hung around her shoulders, and the soft fuzz covering them, the same shade of rich brown as her hair, was impressively soft and velvety. The girl, though, wasn’t really able to appreciate them. She was horrified. She couldn’t see her own reflection, but she could only imagine how ridiculous she must look. More importantly, though, it was clear the Baroness’s promise was already coming true. ‘You’ll be a fine rabbit’, the fey had said. The girl was beginning to worry she’d been speaking very literally.

“You… fix me!” the girl yelled, after a few moments spent turning her head this way and that, trying to inspect her new ears. But there was no reply, and when the girl looked up, she found that she was alone once more. The pixie had vanished. The girl grit her teeth. Then, though, she heard footsteps, much louder than ever before. She didn’t have time to waste searching for a mischievous pixie. The Baroness was still coming for her. She’d already rested too long. The girl picked the first passage she saw, and ran into it as fast as her legs could carry her.

As she sprinted deeper into the maze, though, the girl noticed something. Her hearing really was better. All the half-heard noises that had troubled her before resolved themselves into a clear map of every little thing happening around her. It wasn’t a comforting picture. She could hear the footsteps of something; something she was sure was the Baroness. It wasn’t far away, and it was stalking her with unnerving precision. Still, the girl felt better for knowing. At least she could be reasonably sure her hunter wasn’t lurking around each and every corner. That brought her a measure of calm, and oddly, so did her hearing itself. Despite her distress at her new, animalistic ears, it was proving easy for her to lean into her new, heightened senses. The girl found she could immerse herself in the world around her, becoming one with all those small noises and letting instinct carry her away from danger, and allowing the loud and anxious parts of her mind to grow quiet. It was nice, especially under the circumstances, but the girl was wary of it. She’d noticed the odd, rabbit-like way she tended to twitch from side to side in response to sounds when she let herself sink a little too deep into that headspace.

The girl’s supernatural hearing, though, didn’t prevent her from turning another corner and finding herself in another clearing, just like the first. She narrowed her eyes and searched around for another pixie. She hadn’t heard anything, but sure enough, there was one. This second pixie appeared to be playing a small game of croquet on a tiny little lawn. The girl shook her head in disbelief. How hadn’t she heard anything?

“Hello there!” the pixie called out in a jolly, lilting voice. “You must be the Baroness’s new rabbit.”

“I’m not a rabbit!” the girl replied indignantly.

The pixie giggled. “With those ears? I think that’s a bit of a foolish thing to say, silly rabbit.”

The girl grit her teeth. “Whatever. I’ll be on my way.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.” The pixie nodded her head sympathetically. “She must be giving you a hard time.”

“She is.” The girl turned her head left and right, listening out carefully. She could hear rustling, but it wasn’t close. “I… I don’t know how she’s tracking me. Do you know the way out of here? I need to get back home.”

“Hmm.” The pixie stroked their chin, thinking for a moment. “I’m afraid not. I don’t know how she’s tracking you either. She’s an awfully good hunter. I suppose you’ll just have to go faster.”

“Yeah, I guess,” the girl agreed, disappointed.

“Hey!” the pixie said brightly. “Want me to help you with that?”

“Oh, can you?” the girl asked eagerly. She was getting awfully tired, and she didn’t want her speed to start flagging. “Yes, please. Although… wait, no. No, please don-”

It was too late. The pixie had already snapped her fingers. The girls started immediately looking herself up and down. She wasn’t sure what was going to happen. For a moment, she thought she’d somehow escaped the pixie’s curse. But then she felt it; a gentle but insistent warmth in her lower body. At first, it was hard to pinpoint, but more and more it coalesced in her thighs and her hips. And then they started to grow. The girl initially thought her clothes were changing, as her leggings felt as though they were getting tighter and tighter. But she soon realized that in fact, her thighs and hips were expanding, swelling with new muscle and fresh, soft curves. Her ass, too, started expanding out behind her, and within moments her leggings were ripping apart at the seams, quickly shredded to tatters by her growing body. The girl had always had a pretty slender, athletic build, but that was rapidly changing. Her metamorphosis took mere seconds, and by the end her physique was hopelessly bottom-heavy. Her new proportions weren’t quite extreme enough to be called cartoonish, but they were close. She certainly didn’t look like a runner anymore.

“You! I’m gonna-” The girl looked up, but predictably enough, the pixie was gone. “I’m gonna strangle the next one of those I see,” she vowed.

Experimentally, she reached down to run her hands over her new body. It was incredibly soft and curvaceous. She had the kind of ass and hips people drooled over. Beneath the softness, though, she could feel that her legs had become incredibly powerful. Underneath a layer of pleasing, masterfully sculpted fat was pure, taut muscle. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all, the girl mused. Then a gust of wind blew through the maze, and she shivered. If only her transformation hadn’t shredded her clothes. She had an odd feeling that pixie was still lurking somewhere nearby, leering at her nudity. At least her top half was still covered. But that was just one more reason to move on quickly. The rustling leaves were growing closer, and she had no more time to waste. Once more, the girl picked a path, and started running.

She quickly found, though, that she couldn’t run. Not like before. Her new body simply wasn’t suited for it. The kind of runner’s gait she’d long since committed to muscle memory simply didn’t allow for such massive, curvy thighs. The girl groaned in frustration. The pixie had promised to help her, but what help were these new legs if she couldn’t run on them? Then, though, she remembered how well her new ears seemed to work when she let instinct take over. Perhaps her new body was the same. The girl took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and just tried to move forward in whatever way felt most natural.

She hopped.

At least, it was something like a hop. Instead of placing one foot in front of the other, the girl pressed her feet together and coiled her thighs, before extending both her legs at once to propel herself forward. The speed at which she moved took her by surprise, and threatened to send her toppling over forwards. But, just barely, she was able to keep her balance. The girl was astonished. Her new body was incredible! With speed like this, she could easily leave any of her track and field rivals in the dirt - assuming she ever made it home. With that thought held firm in her mind, she picked a direction and started hopping.

The hedge maze around her became a blur as she sped through it, much faster than before. The nameless girl was amazed. Despite her situation, she couldn’t help but grin. She was riding high on adrenaline. She was so fast! And with her enhanced hearing, she could be sure to stay clear of danger Maybe she could win this hunt after all. Maybe. The girl didn’t want to get carried away. She knew there was something darker at work here. The transformations she’d been offered were beckoning her, tempting her with unfamiliar, animal instincts. She needed to hold back. She didn’t want to become the Baroness’s rabbit. She could only imagine what she already looked like, hopping around on her huge thighs with her long ears flopping around her shoulders. It was ridiculous. But she was hopeful she could hold on to her own identity - just as long as she didn’t make any more silly agreements with pixies.

She hopped out into another clearing.

“Ugh!” the girl groaned in frustration. There was no way she was talking to another pixie. Fortunately, there didn’t seem to be one around. In the clearing, there was nothing but a small tree. The girl was already hurrying forward, deeper into the maze, when a high-pitched voice took her by surprise and made her stumble.

“Leaving so soon?”

Once she was back on her feet, the girl looked up. Nestled amongst the branches of the tree was, as she’d been dreading, another pixie.

The girl’s instinct was simply to run. She’d learned her lesson. A pixie meant danger, and she should run from danger. Nice and simple. Instinctive. But as she made to hop off, the pixie addressed her again:

“You know, you don’t seem very steady on those legs of yours! If you’re to be the Baroness’s new rabbit, you’ll need that sorted. Why don’t I offer you something to help you with your balance?”

“No!” the girl snapped, very firmly. “No thank you! No! Nope! Not wanted!”

“No?” The pixie raised a tiny eyebrow. “Are you telling me you don’t want to be able to balance better?”

“Well of course I want that!” the girl said, exasperated. “But I don’t- wait, no I didn’t mean that! I-”

The pixie snapped their fingers, and the girl grew a tail.

It was a short, floppy, incredibly fluffy little bunny tail, sprouting from the base of her spine to nestle comfortably against her newly-rounded ass. The girl groaned in despair. How did this keep happening to her? She looked up at the tree, determined to climb it and throttle the pixie no matter how long it took, but predictably enough, they were gone. The girl sighed. Despite all her protests, it seemed she was becoming more and more rabbit with each passing moment. It wasn’t just her body; she could feel the changes in her mind too. Her thoughts were growing simpler. More animal-like. Now she had a tail, it was sure to get even worse. But what could she do? Nothing more, she decided, than keep running, deeper and deeper into the maze.

Much as she was loathe to admit it, once she started hopping again, the girl found that her tail was quite the asset. Short though it was, it was just enough to let her counterbalance her new, hopping gait, allowing her to move faster still without placing herself at risk of toppling over if she misjudged a single hop. With that danger remedied, the girl found she was able to take joy in the simple act of hopping around. She knew she was still in danger, but some part of her derived a strange thrill from how fast she could move, and how at one with her new body she felt. She was reluctant to plunge into the headspace, but she found herself slipping deeper and deeper towards it, as the simple, primal joy of racing and running quenched her old, increasingly distant anxieties and fears about losing her humanity. She still knew she needed to get home, but she’d already determined that to do that, she needed to run and hop, and that was so much easier to think about. All she needed to do was run, and run, and run, and run, and run, and-

The girl hit a dead end.

She turned back, and found herself frantically looking left and right. There were no ways out, just a long passageway leading back the way she’d just come. And she could hear close footsteps. The Baroness’s footsteps. The girl panicked, and cursed herself. She’d been so caught up in her transformation, she’d run right into a hopeless dead end - just like an animal into a trap. There was nothing more she could do than try and run back the way she came. The girl set off as fast as she could - only to turn a single corner and find herself face-to-face with the Baroness.

“Hello there, little rabbit,” the Baroness said in a sing-song voice, looming over her. “I must say, you’re coming along very nicely.”

The girl started backing away in fear, even though she knew she had nowhere to go. The Baroness followed, pressing in on her with ease, her spear hefted in her hand. 

“L-l-leave me alone!” the girl whimpered, as she pressed her back up against the thick, impenetrable hedge behind her.

“Didn’t I tell you that you’d make a fine rabbit?” the Baroness purred, the too-wide grin on her face growing wider with each passing moment. “So fine, in fact, that I think it would be a waste to simply dispatch you. No… I think I’ll keep you.”

“Keep me?!” the girl cried out in a shrill voice. She wasn’t sure if that was better or worse. She didn’t want to be hunted, but she didn’t want to be anybody’s pet. Least of all this sinister fey’s.

“Is that so terrible a fate? I assure you, I can be a kind mistress,” the Baroness replied, as if sensing the girl’s thoughts. “But if you’re to be my pet, I’ll have to give you a name, won’t I?”

“I have a name!” the girl insisted weakly. “It’s… it’s…” She couldn’t remember.

The Baroness ignored her protests, musing to herself. “Oh, I’ve never been any good with names. Let’s stick with something simple… Bunny! Your name is Bunny.”

“N-no it’s not!” Bunny protested, but already, the name was taking hold of her. It clung to her like a spider’s web, no matter how hard she tried to reject it. Her name was… what? If she only had a different name to hold on to it might have been easier, but she didn’t, and so ‘Bunny’ rushed in to fill the void. It proved slippery, sneaking into her memories and inserting itself into her identity in unexpected ways. She tried to isolate it, focusing on the fact that the Baroness had christened her ‘Bunny’ mere moments ago, only to find that she could remember all sorts of people calling her that. She could hear it in her parents’ voices, in her sister’s voice, and in the voices of all her friends. She tried to picture her old high school book; in her mind’s eye, ‘Bunny’ was the name written under the photo She was… Bunny. That was her name. Bunny.

“There. Isn’t that better?” the Baroness asked, her voice suddenly soft. “Poor, confused Bunny. Running around in my little maze, not even knowing who you are. It’s OK. You’re safe now.”

Bunny didn’t feel safe, but already, the Baroness’s enchanting aura was beginning to affect her. Clear thought was becoming difficult. She wanted to flee, and since that was impossible, she was simply frozen like a deer in headlights.

“Here. See?” the Baroness continued, slowly setting her spear down on the ground. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’ll take very good care of you, my rabbit.”

“I’m not a rabbit! I’m not!” Bunny protested.

“No?” the ethereal Baroness cocked her head to one side. “But, my sweet pet, aren’t you called Bunny? That seems like a very strange name for someone who’s not a rabbit, don’t you think?”

“But… but…” Bunny balled her fists at the unfairness of it, and how hard she was finding it to argue back. Her name was Bunny. That was a rabbit’s name. Sure, it was the Baroness who had named her that, but that didn’t change the fact that it was now her name. That much was undeniable. How was she supposed to argue she was human with a name like that?

“Still thinking like a person? Oh, we can’t have that,” the Baroness tutted. “Allow me to fix that for you.”

“Wha-”

Before Bunny could shrink out of the way, the Baroness’s hand darted out to rest at the side of Bunny’s head. At the fey’s surprisingly gentle touch, Bunny froze, allowing the Baroness to slowly stroke all the way along Bunny’s new, floppy rabbit ears.

Bunny melted.

The girl’s whole body melted. The feeling was indescribable. Shivers ran all across her skin, and turned her muscles to jelly. Bunny felt like her legs were going to collapse underneath her. Her instincts suddenly betrayed her, and she could herself leaning into the Baroness’s touch, nuzzling her ears into her fey captor’s hand in search of more. The sensation was bliss, pure and simple. She’d had no idea her new ears were so sensitive, and even though she knew full well the Baroness was using this new weakness to bring her under her spell, she couldn’t make herself hate it. Not when it felt so good.

“There, there,” the Baroness soothed, her seductive words slipping into Bunny’s helpless ears. “Isn’t this better? Good girl. Good rabbit.”

Bunny shivered. Why? Was she so weak to this?

“Don’t you want this?” the Baroness continued, in her soft, lilting, simpering whisper. “Don’t you want me to pet you like this each and every day? Of course you do, little rabbit. You could have that. You could be mine.”

“N-noooo,” Bunny moaned. She hated how deeply tempted she was.

“No?” the Baroness drew her hand over Bunny’s head in a leisurely manner, before starting to stroke her other ear. Bunny’s bliss doubled. “Aww, I think you’re trying to fight. Are you? That would be very, very silly, little rabbit. Rabbits don’t fight. Do you? Rabbits are so weak and small and helpless. Aren’t they?”

“Y-yes,” Bunny agreed weakly, before realizing she wasn’t quite sure what exactly she had agreed to. “Or… no… no, I… um…”

“Rabbits aren’t very smart, are they?” the Baroness mused, still petting Bunny affectionately. “I suppose they don’t need to be. They’re simply adorable, after all. You should really stop trying so hard, Bunny. Isn’t it tiring? Aren’t you already exhausted, after all that hopping?”

It was only as the Baroness spoke those words that Bunny realized how true they were. She was exhausted. She yearned to slump forward into the fey’s slender arms. But… she couldn’t. Could she? She needed to fight. She needed to find a way home. Didn’t she? It was so hard to keep it all straight in her head. She was tired, and her head was so full of fog. Each time the Baroness ran her hand down one of Bunny’s soft, velvety ears, she could her thoughts being massaged away, all those mental knots of anxiety and fear unraveling harmlessly. It was so hard to maintain her train of thought for more than a couple of seconds. Her head was becoming just as fuzzy as her ears.

“I… I…” Bunny whimpered slowly. “Um… yes… exhausted… yes… mm…”

She knew what was happening. She was being treated like… like a pet. And it felt so right.

“That’s right,” the Baroness crooned. The fey started gently pushing Bunny’s head from side to side as she stroked her ears and her hair. The entranced girl swayed with each motion, unresisting. “Time to do what comes naturally, hm?”

What comes naturally… what did that mean? Bunny wasn’t sure. She just wanted to feel good. She was tired of running, tired of fear. She wanted the path of least resistance. Right now, that meant letting the Baroness have her way with her. Maybe that’s what was natural. But… home. She needed home. She had to remember that.

“N-n-no…” Bunny made herself say, with great effort.

“No?” Her fey captor arched an eyebrow, eyes shining with a mystical, gleeful light. “That doesn’t make any sense at all. Silly rabbit. Aren’t you a silly bunny?”

“I’m… not… not a bunny!” It was getting harder and harder to say each time.

“Not a bunny? But you’re Bunny!” The Baroness laughed. “A Bunny is a bunny, no? That much is obvious, even to an empty-headed little pet like you. And you’re Bunny; we both agree on that. And that means you’re a bunny. Don’t you think?”

“Umm….” Bunny simply could not muster the mental energy to get to grips with what the Baroness was saying. It was so easy to get lost in her voice; in the way it lilted up and down like a half-remembered lullaby. The fey’s words simply washed over her like the rain, soaking her, seeping into her.

“Just look at you,” the Baroness murmured softly. “Look at these.” She gently tugged on one of Bunny’s ears. “And look at this.” Bunny yelped slightly as the Baroness stepped in even closer to her, slipping a hand around her hips and stroking her short, fluffy tail. “There’s really no denying it, pet. Anyone would agree. Don’t you?”

Bunny had no words. The Baroness was so close to her now. The fey was so much taller - had Bunny shrunk a little? - and she had to crane her neck to look at her. When she did, she was greeted only with the fey’s wide, sharp, possessive grin. Bunny’s gaze shot back to the ground. The Baroness’s arms were all around her. The way she was stroking her tail felt almost as incredible as the way she was stroking her ears, and the Baroness didn’t stop there. She drew her reaching fingertips back across Bunny’s hips, lingering for a minute to feel her new, huge, plush ass, stroking up and down along her bare skin. It was all Bunny could do not to sigh and moan. Why did her body have to be so sensitive all of a sudden?

“Oh, these new curves are wonderful,” the Baroness breathed appreciatively. “I told you that you’d make a fine rabbit. I’m going to enjoy these very, very much.”

Bunny shivered with more than just fear at the naked lust dripping from the fey’s voice. But… she had to resist. Had to get home. She had to. She had to.

“I’m… nnnn… s-stop,” Bunny pleaded. It was so unfair. How was so supposed to think with the Baroness touching her this way?

“Yes,” the Baroness readily agreed, quieting Bunny with her voice. “Yes, yes, yes. Time to stop thinking. Time to sink. Are you ready for that, Bunny? Let’s see.”

Still gently and methodically stroking Bunny’s ears, she removed her other hand from the girl’s hips and raised it to her lips, using her slender fingertips to slowly part Bunny’s lips. Bunny’s reaction was instinctive and immediate. She opened her mouth, allowing the Baroness to slip a pair of fingers into her mouth. Bunny suckled on them helplessly, like the obedient pet she was rapidly becoming. She couldn’t help it. Her body was eager to accept the Baroness’s attentions. Maybe it wasn’t really her body anymore. It had been changed; twisted and transformed to suit the Baroness’s whims. She no longer had any doubt her mind would soon follow.

“Good. Good girl.” The praise set Bunny’s cheeks ablaze. “You know, this is one way to tell if a rabbit is nice and comfortable with you. They’ll start licking you and suckling on you. It’s adorable, quite frankly. I’m glad to see you’re getting comfortable with me, my sweet little rabbit. Your tongue is going to be so very, very useful.”

Bunny’s cheeks were still burning, now with shame. She was… suckling? Why? It was so embarrassing. But… she couldn’t stop. She didn’t want to stop. She wanted to do what came naturally. So tired. So easy to sink.

“Now… look at me,” the Baroness instructed. She pressed her thumb up under Bunny’s chin, manipulating her head. Bunny was putty in her grasp. The Baroness tilted her head back, making her look up. “Look into me.”

Bunny met the Baroness’s inhuman gaze, and was enraptured. The colors in the fey’s eyes shimmered, and the rabbit girl felt them shimmering within her too. Her mind had grown soft and sleepy. It was easily dazzled. The last little bit of tension and strength she’d been holding in her body drained away, and she slumped visibly.

“What do you see, little bunny rabbit?” the Baroness asked, slipping her fingers out of Bunny’s mouth.

“I… I….” Bunny murmured sleepily, a small trail of drool escaping her lips. Her eyes were wide, her pupils dilated. She saw the Baroness, and the Baroness was beautiful. How had she ever been afraid of her? This faerie was such a strange, elegant creature. She was magnificent. Indescribable. Compared to her, Bunny felt so small, so humble. But there was safety in that smallness, especially since the Baroness wanted her as a pet. Bunny could scarcely believe it was so. This beauty wanted her? Bunny couldn’t wrap her head around it. But that was OK. She knew the Baroness would help her understand. “Y-you.”

“Me?” the Baroness laughed. “And what am I?” Bunny sensed she already knew the answer.

“My… my… my…” Bunny knew what she wanted to say. What she craved. She just didn’t quite know how to say it.

“It’s OK, sweet Bunny,” the Baroness soothed. The Baroness was so kind to her. “There’s time for titles later. No need to push yourself.” Bunny’s face relaxed into a warm smile. So kind. She was so grateful for the Baroness’s hand in her hair, still softly stroking her ears. The Baroness’s touch was everything to her. “I just need one little thing from you, my precious pet. One little thing. I know, I know speaking is hard, but I’m sure you can do this. For me. Just… tell me what you are.”

“I’m… I’m…” Bunny’s brow furrowed. It was hard. Thinking was hard. She knew what she wanted to say. The words rose eagerly to her lips. But… there was something else, wasn’t there? Something she was supposed to be fighting for. Something she was supposed to be trying to get back to. It was… it was…

Then, the Baroness stroked her ear one more time, and it was gone.

Bunny’s face relaxed into a contented smile. It wasn’t hard at all. She knew the answer. She just had to do what came naturally.

“I’m your pet rabbit,” she confessed, sealing her own fate.

“Perfect! Good girl!” Bunny giggled gently and nuzzled at the Baroness’s arm, as the fey bent down to kiss the top of her head. All memory of her old life faded. This was her reality now. Her truth. She was a pet. She was Bunny.

“Come now, my pet. Let’s return to my home - and yours.” The Baroness took Bunny’s hand and started leading her back through the maze.

“You know the way?” Bunny asked timidly.

“Of course,” the Baroness told her. “Trust me.”

Bunny did. She trusted the Baroness.

“I won’t take long. Believe me, I’m very eager to get you back into my bed.” The Baroness laughed. “Besides being cute and awfully fun to chase, do you know what else rabbits are very, very good for?”

“What?”

The Baroness licked her inhuman lips with a very, very long tongue.

“Breeding.”