Kinshicho Branch: Remote Control Debut Bunny (Konomi Kurimoto, 21)

I must have made a few wrong choices along the way. I’m not sure exactly which crossroads I took a wrong turn at. But otherwise, I can't explain why, right at this moment, I'm standing in the middle of the floor at "Tokyo Secret Bunny Club," a high-end girls' bar in a multi-tenant building in Kinshicho, wearing a pair of bunny ears and practically nothing else.
The sharp clinking of glasses. The boisterous laughter of a large group. Through the haze of purple smoke, countless gazes cling to me with a sticky persistence.

The very center of the floor at the Tokyo Secret Bunny Club. A space entirely devoid of cover. Standing there, nearly naked save for my bunny ears, I was currently being "consumed" from every possible angle.
In my hands, a tray carrying glasses filled to the brim with premium red wine. And in my most private of places, a hard "foreign object" was being forcibly held in place by the acute angle of my high-cut leotard.
There’s simply not enough fabric. With every step I take, the material bites deeply into my flesh, and that "object," with nowhere else to go, coldly and relentlessly asserts its presence against me. But the most terrifying part of all is that I haven't been told who holds the switch.

Is it the salarymen chatting amiably right in front of me? The group of young guys in the back booth? Or is every single customer in this room a co-conspirator?
The stares coming from all directions burn my skin like laser sights, just waiting for the perfect moment to pull the trigger. Not speaking to anyone in particular, but addressing the "malicious curiosity" filling the room itself, I moved my lips, barely able to breathe.

"Umm... this is... my first time doing this, so..."
Dropping my gaze to the floor, I take a step forward on legs trembling like a newborn fawn's.

"Please... be as gentle as you can..."
If I spill it, it's over. I absolutely have to avoid that penalty game. It would mean... undeniable social death. Just, please. Have mercy.

I plastered a strained, ingratiating smile into the empty air.
"If I spill it... um, they'll make me do a penalty game, so..."
It was right at that moment.

Click.
A dry sound echoed from somewhere, and the world between my thighs turned inside out.

"Nngh...?!"

It wasn't the "shock" I had been bracing for. It was a wave of heat, horrifyingly sweet and violent.

It was supposed to be the lowest setting. And yet, the extreme tension of the high-cut leotard completely backfired on me. Pressed immovably against that single point—my most vulnerable spot—the mechanical vibration gouged into me with terrifying precision.

A numbness shot up my spine. The core of my brain flashed white, and my vision wavered.
It's hot. Oh god... it's so hot!
"Ah, fu...h, kuuh...!"

I desperately braced my crumbling knees atop my high heels. My inner thighs rubbed together of their own accord, the friction only driving the foreign object deeper into my flesh.

I can't. I'm on the clock. I'm a bunny. I have to deliver this wine. Even as my reason issued commands, my body was honestly and steadily succumbing. My nipples hardened to the point of pain, my breathing grew shallow, and I couldn't stop my body temperature from running wild.

Catching the tremors of my body, the surface of the wine on the tray began to ripple in an unsettling rhythm. I was desperate. Desperately fighting back against the waves of pleasure that were violating my dignity.

But the invisible fingertip was cruel. As if to mock my resistance, someone turned the dial up once more.

BZZZT!

"Nnngh, ah!"

Pushed past its limit, the voltage caused my knees to unlock entirely. I instinctively shielded the tray.
Safe...!

...Or so I thought, until the very next second.

Drip, drop.
The violently sloshing wine crested the rim of the glass, and crimson drops painted a dark stain on the carpeted floor.

"Ah."

A foolish sound of utter despair escaped my lips.

A momentary silence. The hustle and bustle of the floor froze, as if it had all been a lie.

A female customer right in front of me stared at the stain on the floor, then slowly raised her eyes and pierced right through me. It was the look of someone... eagerly awaiting the "show" that was about to begin.