FSE

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WARNING: This story contains underage rape and other assorted nastiness. Also, this is the penultimate part of the story, the next chapter will be the very last one.

Peter's definition of taking it easy turned out to be watching television. He had sometimes done this while Ava was elsewhere, leashed to the bed or recovering from a rough fucking, but this time he had her sit right next to him on the couch, one arm around the leopard.

Ava couldn't focus on the screen, she was too nervous. Perhaps she might have been able to sink into some sort of daze and simply forget the edge of her fear if she were still on the drugs, but now she was completely, dreadfully sober. Reality had reacquired its hard edge and every second scraped by with glacial slowness.

Peter had watched the news for a bit, perhaps hoping to catch another segment featuring her, then swapped over to something light and mindless that Ava couldn't follow. There were people in a car being happy and bantering back and forth. Peter smiled every so often but Ava simply stared straight ahead.

Was she acting correctly? She knew that though she was sober, she still had to act like she was under the effects of the pills, and the more she thought about that, the more difficult it became to quantify that. Was she just supposed to act slow and dazed? Well, that was no trouble...even if she felt that time had acquired an unpleasant completeness that she didn't much like.

So far Peter hadn't seemed to notice that she was sober, and that was a relief, though if she did something wrong...Ava had to take a deep breath to keep herself still, but there was so much to worry about. Now she could remember every moment of the day rather than simply hazy gaps stuck between unknowable stretches of nothingness where Peter might have been doing anything at all to her.

He had taken pictures, she knew that. Every so often she remembered a digital camera coming out, but only hazily. It hadn't made an appearance since she'd stopped taking the pills, but she remembered the flash and whir, the way he'd posed her to better show off the cum drooling from her freshly fucked holes.

She didn't want to think about this, but her mind kept returning to the whole cascade of horrors each time she wasn't actively focusing it on something else, like deep down she was facing an unsolvable problem that would eventually tear her apart if she didn't untangle its infinite issues.

Peter was playing with the tip of her tail, which only made Ava more nervous, but she didn't dare yank the appendage from his grasp. He ran his fingers through the soft fur there, seeming to enjoy the little unconscious flicks and motions it made as he toyed with it.

On the screen the show faded away to commercials and Peter muted it, reducing the whole thing to a cascade of bright colors that didn't seem to hold any special meaning anymore. How on earth could people smile that much?

The otter turned away from the television, letting go of Ava's tail and placing his paw instead on her shoulder. He pushed her back against the arm of the couch and Ava couldn't suppress a little whimper. She steeled herself for another assault, but Peter's paw only dropped to her chest, where doubtlessly he could feel her heart accelerating.

"You know how to touch yourself, don't you?" Peter asked, a sort of breathy anticipation entering his voice. He'd been thinking about this for a while, Ava realized.

But all she could do was sit back, all too aware of Peter's paw on her chest, one finger turning delicate little circles around one nipple. She took a shivery breath, exhaled and managed to shake her head, words still nowhere to be found.

"Really?" Peter asked, looking almost surprised, "don't be so scared, you'll be glad I taught you this. Open your legs."

Ava had kept her legs firmly shut, drawn almost up to her chest, and instinct demanded she keep them that way. This was a trick, surely Peter would just jump on her the instant she gave him any sign of vulnerability...but what was stopping him from doing that anyway?

And besides, she remembered the way he'd reacted when she hadn't reacted positively to his odd advances a few nights back, when he'd put his tongue between her legs. The otter had raped her repeatedly, until she couldn't even move when he dumped her unceremoniously into the dog bed.

Taking a bracing breath, Ava reluctantly opened her legs, baring her slit and tail-hole to the otter, trembling as she did so. He was hard, she could see the otter's erection tenting his pants, and Peter looked hard pressed not to simply take her right then and there...but instead of doing that he took hold of one of her paws and moved it between her legs. Ava let him, offering nothing that Peter could interpret as resistance.

"Good," Peter breathed, shifting until he was facing Ava fully, paws moving to stroke along the insides of her thighs, "...you've never done this before?" He still looked surprised, almost unconvinced.

Ava managed to shake her head, the motion slow and uneven, the muscles in her neck all but locked up with growing fear. If she did something wrong, something to upset Peter, then she would be in a very bad position. Already she was thinking of the other times he'd violated her on this very couch...what was one more to him?

"I'd have thought otherwise," the otter said at last, "but anyway..." He took hold of the paw he'd moved between her legs, which still rested uncertainly over her slit, and manually extended a pair of Ava's fingers, ignoring the tremors that ran down the leopard's arm.

"Get yourself nice and wet," he said, "show me."

Ava knew the mechanics of what she was supposed to do, but followed through only hesitantly. She was still sore from the previous day and even dipping the tips of her fingers into herself elicited a wince, her whiskers trembling. Still, she persisted, feeling the way her inner walls clamped down on the invading digits, and thrust them in and out of herself at as quick a pace as she could bear, giving Peter a good view.

The otter's gaze bored a hole in her, Peter slowly shuffling his pants off, stiff cock bouncing free, pointed tip already wet with pre.

For another moment Ava hesitated, sure he was about to pin her down and shove in, but all the otter did was stroke his cock with one paw, the other running along the inside of Ava's thigh.

Ava tried to swallow but her mouth had gone completely dry. Her heart hammered in her chest and she was suddenly aware that she probably looked completely terrified. Was that what Peter wanted, or was he expecting her to look like she was enjoying herself? She had no idea, and once more was almost frozen was terror over the vision of what the repercussions for upsetting him could be.

She shut her eyes for a moment and tried to center herself, to remove focus from the discomfort between her legs and the all encompassing fear that buzzed across every synapse. As she did she forced herself to keep up with the show, fingering her little slit, the fur between her legs growing damp.

"Feels good, right?" Peter asked.

Ava forced herself to nod, though she wasn't entirely sure what her facial expression was. Did she look stricken? Terrified? Could Peter see the pain and hurt there, displacing the rapturous pleasure he was doubtlessly expecting?

None of the answers were especially reassuring.

Fortunately, Peter didn't seem to notice, or if he did he enjoyed her fear and muted humiliation at having to put on such a show for him. The otter's breath grew shorter, pre slicking his cock, balls jumping in their white furred sack.

Then, suddenly, he stopped, paw freezing at the base of his cock, holding it straight up into the air like a pillar. His eyes moved reluctantly away from Ava's slick pussy, where her fingers had come to an uncertain halt, and up to her face.

"Get on my lap." He ordered.

Ava hesitated, thought about protesting for a moment but came up against the same obstacle as always. Nothing she did in situations like this really mattered. The only power she truly had was to not swallow the carefully sliced pill portions that Peter gave to her in the mornings and evenings. She had the power to preserve her lucidity and wait carefully for a time when resistance or escape would be feasible. And that time wasn't now.

Taking a deep breath, Ava slowly shuffled forward on her knees, mouth gone dry and heart thudding in her chest. She told herself that it wouldn't be too bad. She'd endure Peter's use of her body, like she had countless other times, and then he'd leave her alone for a little bit.

But even as she tried to reassure herself that way, Ava knew that those concerns weren't really what was bothering her. Not really.

What truly hurt was having to obey his orders. Before, when he'd simply been pinning her and pumping away until he came, she'd been an other, an entirely passive participant. Now she felt almost like a collaborator. It made her feel dirty, like she was betraying herself.

Ava tried to straddle Peter's lap facing away from the otter, so she wouldn't have to look at him, but he caught her and adjusted her position so they were face to face, his cock twitching against her inner thigh, pointed tip tracing her slick entrance.

"It's my birthday in a few days," Peter said casually as his paws found Ava's hips, lowering the little leopard down onto his cock, stretching her hole once more, "...you said you were gonna be twelve in a month when we first met. It's been about that long since then...what do you say we both have a party?" His words were breathy, the otter clearly struggling not to give into temptation and pound her as hard as he could.

Ava kept her eyes firmly on the wall next to Peter's head. Couldn't bear to look the otter in the eyes while he was hard and throbbing inside of her.

"Okay." She mumbled, biting back how much it hurt to listen to Peter speak so casually about this even as he raped her.

"You'll have to give me a present," Peter said, slowly beginning to pump into her, hips bucking, "something special."

Ava narrowed her eyes against the sting emanating from between her legs, quietly alarmed by this new conundrum. A present? Something special? How on earth was she going to do that in her situation?

But even as she started to wonder, she already knew what Peter really meant. It was like the privilege day, only bigger. She'd need to pleasure him in some unique way, something to demonstrate her submission.

The thought of going through the trials of the previous day again was dispiriting. Ava forced herself to take a deep breath, stifling a yelp as Peter squeezed her tight rear, his pace accelerating. Squeezing her eyes shut, she waited for him to finish, which he did a few strokes later, hilting himself in her with a final jerk of his hips, warm cum flooding her pussy once more.

"No matter how many times I fuck you, you're still as tight as when I first broke you in." Peter marveled, paws cupping the firm swell of her buttocks, one finger tracing her tail-hole.

Ava kept her eyes shut, cringing down against Peter's words and the shame they provoked. A flurry of upset, panicky thoughts flashed through her mind. She could sink her teeth into his throat, she could go for his eyes with her claws...

But none of them had anything approaching a decent chance of success. In all likelihood her teeth would be baffled by his fur or her claws would miss or...or...

The uncertainties smothered her.

After some time and more casual molestation, Peter withdrew his softening cock and had Ava clean it as cum dripped down her inner thighs. Ava sniffled as she performed the miserable task, ever tempted to bite but fearing Peter's immediate wrath too much to dare.

The otter reached back, pressing his paw between her legs, slipping a pair of fingers into her freshly fucked pussy. Ava stiffened, shifting slightly as fresh discomfort jangled through her, paws curling into fists as angry, humiliated tears welled in the corners of her eyes.

By the time Peter's cock had been cleaned to his satisfaction he'd grown bored with fingering her and instead headed to the kitchen, returning with a cloth that he used to clean the worst of the cum from between Ava's legs.

Ava let him, stiff and tense, flinching each time one of the otter's paws moved someplace sensitive. She thought longingly of the numbness the pill could afford her, quashing the fantasy only after a troublingly long period of contemplation.

What if this really wasn't worth it? What if having to endure all of this was only breaking her down even more effectively than the pill?

Ava thought of the fragment she'd tucked away in the loose seam of the dog bed. She'd have another fragment tonight, then a third in the morning. If she kept that up for a while then she'd have the equivalent of several whole pills...a considerable dose.

Swallowing all of them at once would certainly grant her numbness, of a sort she'd never-

Ava blinked hard, quietly disgusted at herself.

No.

No way.

She was...she was thinking about this all wrong.

It wouldn't have to be her that swallowed the accumulated pills. If Peter got that much hydrocodone in his system all at once...

Ava wasn't sure if it would kill him, but that much medication would certainly knock him out for a while. She'd be able to get his satellite phone and call the police, or slit his throat, anything to end his reign of terror.

A thousand happy possibilities made themselves known in her mind, hope blossoming for an incandescent moment before...

How would she get him to swallow the pills? She thought back to all the movies she'd seen. When people in movies were poisoned it was usually through their drinks. Someone would slip a little dose of powder into a glass of wine and the afflicted character would keel dramatically over almost instantly.

But how to get the pills into something Peter would drink...he never ate with her or drank much of anything besides water, which Ava knew wouldn't work. The pills, even if powdered, would show up in plain tap water. And besides, he didn't exactly leave his food or drinks unattended around her in the first place anyway.

It would have to be an abnormal event for him to leave her alone for even a moment with an open beverage, an unusual beverage at that.

It came to her, slotting neatly into place.

It would have to be his birthday. Surely Peter would have a cake and some sort of alcoholic beverage ('just like in the movies!' She thought to herself with a strange mixture of anxiety and glee).

So he was waiting for her to do something special? She could do that.

The specifics of just how she would transfer the pills to Peter's drink or food or whatever she ended up lacing with hydrocodone were still frighteningly vague, but Ava didn't care. She needed the hope that her realization and fledgling plan afforded her. Anything to erase even a fraction of the pain and shame and uncertainty that captivity had saddled her with.

Once he was done exploring her body, Peter cuddled up close to her and un-muted the television again, letting the inane show he'd been watching return, in all its glossy, plasticky glory.

Ava stared straight ahead of her, to the wall below the television. Thought of the pills she was gathering. Each day she endured, the final dose would become that much stronger.

"When's your birthday?" She asked quietly, after some time had passed.

Peter smiled faintly.

"Wednesday," he said, "so...three days from now."

Ava briefly calculated. Supposed that if Peter was giving her the equivalent of half a hydrocodone every single day, she'd have two entire pills stored up by the time his birthday rolled around.

Two...

Peter had to weigh three times as much as her, and if half a pill could make her loopy and all but unresponsive...

Ava relaxed as much as she dared, feeling slightly reassured. Still deliberately ignored the uncertain queries that popped up surrounding just how she'd drug Peter when it came time to do so.

She'd just have to cross that bridge when she came to it.

Ava spent the rest of the day in a nervous sort of daze, mind consumed with the potential of her new plot, the darkness warded at least somewhat away for the first time in a long, long while.

She would get out of here. She told herself that over and over again as Peter maneuvered her onto her knees in the evening, clearly intending to make use of her muzzle. She didn't resist when he produced the ring gag, and squeezed her eyes tight when he shoved his cock into her mouth, springing tears from the corners of her eyes.

Ignoring the otter's grunts and the pressure of his cock in her throat, Ava focused her mind elsewhere as best she could, hopeful thoughts of the future offering her something of an escape. They were uncertain, flickery at best, but better than nothing.

When Ava went to sleep that night, tucking the white pill fragment carefully away in the loose seam of the dog bed, she drifted to sleep without hesitation.

She awoke in the night, bleary with sleep, uncertain what was happening at first. Was this a dream? There were paws on her, one sliding over her chest, another gripping high on her thigh. Then she was being flipped over onto her front, legs impatiently positioned so her rear was in the air and presenting.

"Good girl." Peter breathed from the darkness.

Ava blinked, awakening more fully, freezing in place as she realized what was going on. Quietly, she wondered how many times this had happened when she was lost in a drugged out haze, just what Peter had done with her half conscious body. The possibilities were unpleasant to think about.

She stayed still, grabbing up the fabric of the bod bed as a pair of lubed fingers explored her tail hole, pushing slowly in, eliciting a whimper of pain from Ava. For a moment there came, unbidden, a sort of tactile flashback to that first night she'd been under Peter's control, the hydrocodone keeping everything at a distance, Peter's rough taking of her anal virginity registering only as pressure and cold. Even him cumming deep inside her had felt odd and vague, like she'd been experiencing it only through a dream.

Peter pushed his fingers in up to the third knuckle, hilting them in Ava's tail hole, taking his time to stretch the little leopard out in preparation for his cock, which Ava could hear him stroking with his other paw. It was already lubricated, she could hear the wet swish of skin on skin.

Then his paws were gripping her hips and Ava felt the momentarily hot push of his pointed tip against her tail-hole before Peter's cock slid into her. She squirmed in his grasp, yelping into the fabric of the dog bed, red hot pain flashing through her entire lower body. Peter's hips unconsciously bucked as he registered just how Ava's tight little hole had clamped down on his entry, but it only made him go faster, hilting himself in a single thrust.

For a moment he rested, savoring just how tight and warm Ava's hole was, the way her tail twitched frenetically, the tip spasming with dismay, then hunched over her and took his pleasure with hard, rapid strokes, balls slapping against her abused pussy, hips meeting hers with every thrust.

Peter grunted as he fucked her, making no effort to be gentle, his thrusts growing shorter and more uneven as he neared his climax. Under him, Ava whimpered into the fabric of the dod bed, tears wetting her cheeks. Peter came with a convulsive jerk of his hips, spraying the insides of Ava's tail-hole with white spumes of otter seed.

But instead of withdrawing, Peter slowly guided Ava onto her side, hugging her to him, slowly thrusting into her as best he could, cum leaking from the leopard's hole.

"You're so hot," he breathed into her ear, nibbling at the side of Ava's neck before continuing, "I'm gonna keep you forever. That's your birthday present...lucky girl."

Ava tried not to stiffen in place but failed, icy tendrils of panic lancing through her veins, fresh tears flowing down her face. She said nothing in return, just stayed perfectly still as Peter held tightly onto her, still pumping his slowly softening cock into her shivering form.

She didn't know what to say or how to react. Suddenly the gaps in her plan, if it could even be called that, seemed all but impossible to overcome. She trembled in place, the pain of Peter's violation radiating through her body, his seed wetting her rear.

The only bright spot she could find was that he hadn't asked what his birthday present was going to be.

The next few days passed in glacial fashion, Peter using and abusing her as he wished. Still, Ava saved her pills and stored them carefully away, checking on her little cache at moments when she knew Peter was far away.

While the initial glowing allure of her plan had faded, she hadn't given up hope on it. Drugging Peter while he was relaxed and complacent during his birthday would be the only way to escape. The one way to bring this whole nightmare to an end.

Lying back, her breathing ragged and fur streaked with cum, Ava squeezed her eyes shut and willed herself to be brave enough to do what needed to be done.