While Mrs. Lambert awkwardly descended from the desktop, Mike fished around in the drawers and found a black marker pen. Uncapping it, he came back around the desk and casually said, "On your knees."

But Mrs. Lambert remained still, her wide eyes fixed on the marker. "What are you going to do with that?"

"Just going to give you a little makeover. Don't worry, it's not indelible. You can wash it off when we're eventually done here."

"Please don't!" she said, in a shaky voice. "Haven't you done enough?"

"Absolutely not!" Mike laughed. "We're just getting started. Now get down on your knees and put your arms down."

For a moment it looked as though Mrs. Lambert was finally going to balk. A shadow of anger briefly crossed her face as she tightened her fists by her sides. Mike could understand her sense of outrage considering the high esteem with which she held herself. In her eyes, he was nothing but a lowly gym instructor who she had hardly ever acknowledged in the past, but now here he was, commanding her to kneel before him! He was about to remind her that he already possessed enough damning photos to destroy her reputation in every sense when, with a short, furious scream, she sank to her knees.

Mike felt light-headed with the power rush as he looked down at her tortured features. He reached down, and taking her chin in his hand, tilted her face up towards him. Then he touched the marker against those regal features and drew three lines radiating outward on each cheek to represent rabbit's whiskers, before fully coating her nose with the black ink. Quite endearingly, while Mike was working, Mrs. Lambert scrunched her eyes shut and wrinkled her nose, as if she were having her face washed.

Mike was no artist, but the effect was perfect. Now his little bunny girl was ready to be put through her paces-and Mike knew all about physical training!

"It's time to sweat some of that ugly fat off your body," he announced in a voice he normally reserved for his gym classes. "Naturally, given your ludicrous appearance, we'll start off with bunny hops. I want you to lean forward and place your hands on the floor, then get up on your toes and straighten your legs so that your little bunny tail is sticking up in the air!"

With an inarticulate murmur of disapproval, Mrs. Lambert assumed the ungainly position, her hair, pearls, and heavy breasts, all hanging downward. Mike was actually about to put her through a series of squat thrusts, but the term bunny hops seemed more fitting for the occasion.

He went back to his sports bag and extracted a wooden spatula that had caught his eye in the local supermarket not long after his first meeting with the unfortunate Mrs. Lambert. Camera in hand, he circled behind her and swiftly delivered a stinging stroke across her right buttock. Mrs. Lambert squealed at the unexpected impact and wriggled her upended rump, but admirably, she stayed in the obscene position.

"That is what you will get if you stop exercising," Mike said, almost ejaculating in his pants as he watched the ruddy hue spreading across her trembling ass cheek. "Now then, on my command, you will jump in and out like the little bunny you are, until I tell you to stop. Any slacking, and you'll receive another spank across your ugly butt!"

The view was anything but ugly as the wretched woman began to exercise for him, each outward jump revealing her beefy pussy lips, every part of her curvaceous frame rippling with each exertion. He snapped happily away with his camera as the dew began to collect on her pale skin, and her panting became increasingly audible.

Fuck it, why not? Mike thought suddenly, and pulling down his zipper, he released his rock-hard prick, exposing it to the open air. Now he moved around her, recording every single movement, her swinging pendulous breasts, her crimson, comically decorated face, her hanging belly, and of course, her sweaty, pouting cunt as she went through her routine. The poor woman was tiring so quickly that, fearful she might have a heart attack, Mike permitted her to rest awhile.

Gasping, perspiring, Mrs. Lambert dropped onto her knees and elbows, and looked up at him imploringly as droplets of sweat rained down from her nipples onto the floor. The bunny ears were still clinging to her damp hair, and the fluffy tail continued to protrude from her asshole.

Ecstatic with the control that he had miraculously assumed over this desirable and mature woman, Mike again delved into his bag. While wandering through the supermarket, he had loitered for some time in the fresh food section, casually perusing a variety of phallic-shaped fruits and vegetables. As much as he had relished the idea of forcing the high and mighty Mrs. Lambert to impale herself on a thick marrow or overgrown potato, he had stayed true to his rabbit theme and had selected a decidedly large carrot, complete with a rosette of fresh, green leaves.