An executive decision crossdressing fiction


Matt leant against the wall in the alley behind the bar counting his tips before hurredly stuffing the wad of cash into his leather purse. Man, this job as a feminised bunny boy sure did suck but at least it brought in a lot more money than what he was doing before.

He pulled a fur jacket over his bare shoulders and started to stumble his way home, still
getting used to high heels.

It had been three weeks since Mr. Bunnimacher had bought out the modeling agency and Matt had been worked to the point of exhaustion. He had to give it to the old man, he sure knew how to bring in business. Clients came in two varieties, More wanting to hire sissy bunny boys and those wanting to hire actual bunny girls and being the baby face that he was, Matt was able to pull both off with aplomb. It was usually groups of women that hired bunny boys, for hen parties or sorority nights etc. These jobs usually consisted of plenty of teasing from the guests which Matt actually enjoyed, the downside was the frequent re-applying of make-up and making h’u’n model different outfits.



Matt was constantly worrying that he would run into a girl he knew from college. For more
humiliating though was his bunny girl role. Almost exclusively hosted by drunk guys, Matt, usually there to serve drinks, was the constant subject of clandestine ass slapping or having his fluffy bunny tale squeezed…er that never got old…The upside was the tips,he couldn’t believe how much wasted guys were willing to stuff into his outfit. Sometimes he wouldn’t find all of it until he undressed back at the house.

Finally on painful feet Mott reached his destination, Mr. Bunnimacher’s home, to drop off his outfit and job completion forms. He strutted into the main office where his boss was sitting behind an oak desk. However, he wasn’t alone. To the left of the desk stood a feminine figure with red hair, fishnet tights and a bunny outfit that matched his own.
Ahhh Matthew, so glad you ‘re here, ‘ crooked the German, ‘your dear friend Paul finally got back fiom vacation…do take him downstairs to get his breast forms fitted will you?‘
MATT!’ Paul stood pouting, ‘whot the hell have you signed me up for and why do I need to pay $65, 000 if I ever want to work in anything but panties ever again?!’