FSE

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*WARNING: * This is the second and final part of a story I wrote a while back. It contains rape and a good deal of graphic, bloody violence towards the end.

The huntress awoke by degrees, being met first by a feeling of achey soreness. The effects of the tincture had faded and now, more than anything, she just hurt. Her head ached and there was an unpleasant fuzziness to her thoughts that she couldn't shake no matter how hard she tried.

She'd been tied up again, though not to the rack. This time she was inside a dim space, lying on her side, atop a soft bed of furs. The tent, she realized. Her arms had been tied behind her back and her legs were bound as well...though not together. For a moment the huntress was confused as to what had been done, then she realized that there were leather cuffs fastened around her ankles, a rigid rod keeping her legs spread.

The purpose of that couldn't have been any clearer. The huntress took a deep breath and tried to concentrate. She needed to escape. Wriggling her fingers, she attempted to extend her claws, only for them to run into a tough, immovable surface. Her captors had put leather bags over her paws, she realized, small and tight enough that she couldn't easily remove them. That way she couldn't use her claws to cut her bonds.

She snarled, the noise low and quiet, tinged with an undeniable edge of fear. This was bad. The huntress thought she could probably stand up, but even then she'd be reduced to a slow, awkward pace by the spreader bar between her ankles. The odds of her being able to escape unnoticed would be very slim.

And even besides that, the longer she was awake there acutely she could feel the persistent dull ache that throbbed between her legs. It pulsed in time with her heart, reminding her each and every moment that she had been taken advantage of, repeatedly and without mercy. A furious, almost helpless sort of humiliation surged through her, coloring her face beneath her orange and black striped fur.

The fur between her legs was matted with cum and she could taste it in her mouth. She wanted badly to spit but couldn't, there was a leather muzzle fastened over her mouth. Her teeth were forced together and she didn't think she could open her mouth more than a fraction of an inch.

An unwelcome question arose, unbidden. Just how long had her captors continued to abuse her after she'd passed out?

Before she could wonder for long the fabric door of the tent twitched open, admitting a brilliant shaft of sunlight. The huntress' eyes slitted and she grimaced as best she could, a shivery lance of pain shooting through the center of her head.

Then that was gone, replaced by a crackly mingling of anger and fear. Coming through the doorway was the golden furred rabbit. He'd been the first to rape her the previous day, or...had it even been the previous day? The huntress realized that she had no real idea of how long it had been since she'd last been conscious and aware. For all she knew the rabbits could have been keeping her drugged and docile for any length of time.

She felt sick even contemplating that.

The golden rabbit paused in the doorway, reduced to a featureless silhouette by the sunlight for a moment, then he let the fabric door drop back down and plunged the tent back into a comfortable dimness.

He paused for a moment, seeing that she was awake, then approached with some small caution. He wasn't afraid of her, even seeing what the huntress hoped was murder in her eyes. Still, she curled her legs against herself as best she could, tail ducking protectively between her legs, the reaction almost impossible to control. She didn't care that it made her look scared, she wasn't sure what else she could to resist.

A growl bubbled up from deep in her throat, but the defiant noise shivered as the rabbit knelt and laid a fond paw on her thigh. The huntress tried to kick but her position was awkward and her bonds prevented her from doing anything more than batting her shins against the rabbit's thigh.

He rolled his eyes at her, then flipped her onto her front. The huntress snarled helplessly, furious tears blurring her vision as the golden rabbit undid his pants and mounted her once more. For a moment the hardness of his length poked against the base of her tail, then he found her slit and was sliding relentlessly in.

The golden rabbit rutted her with hard, merciless strokes. The huntress tried to snarl, to scream, but could only manage a thin, almost inaudible whimper. It hurt too much or her to do anything else. Her thoughts swirled, chaotic and splintered, all swirling into the moment, the pain and horror of her assault. No matter how hard she tried to think about escape or revenge or even the past, someplace she could escape for even a moment, none of it could penetrate past the physical and emotional hurt of what was being done to her.

What was more, she could feel the tapered length of the rabbit's cock stabbing into her with each thrust, pre beginning to slick her sore hole. For a moment the huntress vividly wished she had more tincture, then felt ashamed of herself for that impulse. To take the tincture willingly would be the ultimate act of submission. It would symbolize her ultimate defeat.

She could never do that.

She hardly noticed when the tent door opened again, this time admitting the black furred rabbit. He carried a tight coil of rope under one arm and paused upon seeing his companion. A smile twitched at one corner of his mouth, then he was resuming his chore, settling the rope atop a pile of supplies that filled one corner of the tent.

There was work going on elsewhere, the huntress realized in some distant corner of her mind, even as she was being defiled...so was her valley.

The realization made her feel even worse.

"Should I get more tincture?" The black rabbit asked.

The golden rabbit shook his head distractedly, grinding his length into the spasming tightness of the huntress' abused cunt. A whimper was forced from between her gritted teeth.

"No need," he said, "she's being agreeable."

He came a half dozen thrusts later, hilting his length into her with one final hard shove of his hips, paws pressing down between the huntress' shoulder blades. She wheezed as the breath was forced from her lungs, then felt her rapist's cock twitch inside of her. His load splashed her womb and the huntress balled her fists, claws digging into her own flesh.

The golden rabbit withdrew only when he was completely finished, tapered cock pulling free with a pop and a trickle of warm cum. The huntress couldn't suppress a disgusted shiver at the sensation of his load dripping down the insides of her thighs.

The black rabbit was on her in an instant, picking up where his companion had left off. He grunted as he fucked her, paws slipping around to squeeze her breasts, hot, eager breath fluttering the fur on the back of the huntress' neck.

Helpless tears began to slide down her cheeks.

"I wonder if we've fucked her pregnant yet." The golden rabbit said from where he'd laid back a few feet away. He'd brought out a slender wood stemmed pipe and looked to be preparing for a leisurely post-coitus smoke.

The huntress pinned back her ears and shut her eyes, unwilling to entertain that prospect. Above her, the black rabbit redoubled his efforts, spurred on his companion's words. When he came he pinched her nipples hard enough that the huntress yelped. Another bloom of warmth filled her.

The black rabbit sighed contentedly as he sat back, stroking one final rope of pearly seed across the huntress' round rear. She twitched away from it and tried to snarl, but the noise was muffled almost to the point of oblivion by the leather muzzle she wore.

The cum inside of her burned with unpleasant potential.

After both rabbits were done she was left alone for a while. The huntress sat up as best she could, the muscles in her core aching, and tried her best to clean herself off. She let gravity carry what felt like a small ocean of rabbit cum out of her and onto the furs below, where it formed a small, sticky puddle. The huntress found her eyes drawn to it, disgust roiling in her very center.

Surely she couldn't become pregnant by another species...surely. They had just been trying to scare her.

She told herself that over and over, until she felt calm enough to look around the rest of the tent.

The rabbits slept in here, she could see their bedrolls lined neatly up along one corner. Then there was a neat square of furs which seemed to be her area...

The rest of the tent was given over to supplies, crates and stacks of poles, nothing that could conceivably be used as a weapon...at least not by someone who didn't have use of their paws.

The huntress looked to see if there was something she could use to rub her bindings against until they fell apart, but there were no sharp edges or items either. The rabbits had either removed those or left them packed away so she couldn't get at them.

Again she felt a surge of helpless anger and kicked furiously at the wooden bar keeping her legs spread. It, of course, refused to come loose and the effort only made her existing hurts hurt more. She sat in place, trembling with rage and exhaustion, eyes hot and swollen with tears.

She didn't want to stay in the tent but knew at the same time that she couldn't go outside either. The rabbits were right there. She'd be seen and recaptured. They'd probably load her up with tincture again and she'd spent a hazy eternity in the darkness before finding herself right back where she'd started, probably in even worse condition than she was already in.

God...what was even their end-game? The rabbits wouldn't stay forever, she knew that. It was the nature of outsiders to flit along from place to place, stripping resources and ruining environments wherever they went. And these outsiders were definitely of that parasitic mold. They'd pack their things onto the boat eventually and...

Oh no.

They'd probably kill her before leaving or, worse, take her with them.

She couldn't suppress a shiver at the thought.

In the end she went to the nearest crate and rubbed the binds keeping her paws tied together against the nearest corner until her shoulders ached and her paws had gone numb. But when she tried to force them apart there still wasn't the slightest bit of give. They'd probably tied her with rawhide strips. Rawhide was tougher than rope and didn't tend to fray or give all that easily. If she could have gotten her claws to it...

For a bit she tried to get the leather bags off of her paws but that also proved fruitless and she only succeeded in wearing the fur off of her wrists. When she looked back at the corner of the crate there were little smears of blood darkening the wood.

She stared at the sharp angle of that corner.

If she was to stand up and let herself fall onto it, temple first, she could probably crack her own skull.

Still, the thought vanished as fast as it came. That would be a last resort, she decided. She could still escape...there had to be some way she could get loose.

The huntress settled back onto the furs and ground her teeth, cursing the rabbits and her own bad luck.

The white furred rabbit was the next to enter the tent, but though the huntress tensed and prepared to try and kick or head butt or something, he made no effort to assault her. Instead he collected a par of trimmed aspen poles from the corner and exited the tent again.

He only spoke when he was outside, amongst his companions. The gray furred rabbit was out there too, probably helping to build another drying rack. The huntress could recognize his voice.

"We need to clean her off," the white rabbit said, "she's starting to look used."

"Want me to go get some tincture?" The gray rabbit asked.

There was a moment of silence as the white rabbit considered.

"Just a little," he said at last, "enough to make her docile."

The gray rabbit laughed and they went back to work. Beyond them the huntress could hear the gentle rush of the river and the lap of water against the hull of the boat. The other rabbits were probably out tending the fish traps or perhaps building more.

Again she felt a miserable pang as she thought of the fate of her poor valley. Agin she tested her bonds but her wrists hurt too badly for her to her to tug very hard, and still they didn't give an inch. The rabbits, befitting their role as fishers, seemed to be excellent at tying knots.

She cursed them again, but this time there was more fear in her voice than anger. The huntress sat in place and resolved to hurt at least one of the rabbits when they came to give her the tincture, whenever that would be. It was the least she could do.

When the gray rabbit came in through the tent door the huntress lunged, head down like a charging bull, and caught him full in the sternum. Still, her angle was crooked and she crashed against the side of the tent's door, the tent swaying for an ominous moment, only barely remaining upright. The gray rabbit fell hard onto his back and the huntress landed on her front in the gravel of the riverbank. The impact hurt but she caught it mostly on her shoulder, her thick fur sparing her the worst scrapes and scratches. She tried to wriggle back upright but then the white rabbit had tackled her and forced her onto her back.

The gray rabbit lay curled on his side, the wind knocked out of him, and let out a low groan.

"You bitch." The white rabbit snarled and cracked the huntress hard across the face with the back of one paw. Her leather muzzle caught the brunt of the impact and she hardly felt it. Still, she couldn't buck the white rabbit off of her and his next blow caught her ear. This did hurt and the huntress recoiled, a sharp yelp filtering through her muzzle.

The gray rabbit picked himself up and rolled his shoulders, glowering at the huntress. She tried to kick him as he approached but he batted her legs aside and stamped hard on her tail.

The pain was brilliant, sharp and piercing, running all along the length of her spine like a white hot iron rod. The huntress shrieked, the very concept of resistance buckling, replaced wholesale by agony.

The white rabbit grabbed hold of her leather muzzle and forced her gaze straight, so she was staring up at him. The huntress still tried to squirm but her motions were tiny and instinctive, driven by an inborn desire to get someplace safe so she could lick her wounds and try to recover from the bad things that had been done to her.

She could just barely see the grimace on the white rabbit's face through a shimmery veil of tears.

She, the rabbit made clear, was going to swallow the tincture or else they were going to break every bone in her tail. The gray rabbit hung back just a bit, pinning the very tip of the huntress' tail under one foot, making it clear that their threat was serious.

Still, the huntress kept her mouth shut when her muzzle came off, and forced the white rabbit to pinch her nostrils shut. When her body betrayed her and gasped for air he dumped the tincture down her throat and replaced the bottle.

The huntress gasped for breath, trembling in place. The gray rabbit let his foot off of her tail and she cautiously twitched it. She didn't think anything was broken, but moving it hurt. She--

The white rabbit replaced the bottle of tincture and, without hesitation, punched her square in the nose. For a moment the huntress didn't even feel it, stars exploded across her vision and the back of her head met stone. Thought was erased. It was only as her vision began to clear that she realized she could feel a sort of throbbing heat spreading along both her nose and the very back of her head. She blinked and tried to sit up but the white rabbit was too heavy, she couldn't move.

Her mouth was full of warm, salty liquid and when she tried to speak she swallowed some, dismayed by the sticky texture that coated her throat. It took an alarmingly long time for her to realize it was blood. Her nose was bleeding, her entire muzzle hot and numb.

The gray rabbit nodded decisively, pleased by that act of revenge, then stepped away, deciding not to heap any more abuse onto the already towering pile. The huntress turned her head to the side and tried to spit, but only succeeded in drooling crimson onto the gravel.

"Don't ever fuck with us again." The white rabbit growled, then got off of her, leaving the bound and bleeding tigress to lay there on the riverbank until the tincture kicked in.

When it did the effects were swimmy and smooth, like a filter had been placed over the world. It didn't knock her out, not like the last dose had. Instead the huntress felt slow and weirdly serene. She knew that what was happening was bad, that realm of her emotions remained intact, but the immediacy had been reduced. She felt like she was viewing things from afar, or perhaps even acting as voyeur towards an entirely different person.

It felt strangely nice to be so detached. She no longer felt the throb of her bruised nose, or tasted so much of the blood that pinked her teeth and streaked the fur of her muzzle. She had to remind herself not to become attached to the feeling. If she got used to this then the rabbits would win.

But that too held no real context. Win? What did that even mean anymore?

By that time the other two rabbits had returned to see what the fuss was about. The black rabbit wasn't pleased to see the huntress bloodied. Why hadn't they just been more careful upon entering the tent? She was a savage creature after all, attack and resistance was what she was supposed to do. Beating her up wouldn't solve anything.

"Aww, someone has a crush." The golden rabbit teased.

The black rabbit blushed clear through his fur but whatever embarrassment he felt didn't stop him from restating his case just as vigorously. The white rabbit didn't appear very convinced, nor did the gray rabbit, who was still rubbing his bruised abdomen, but the golden rabbit simply shrugged.

"More tincture." He suggested.

"We do need to keep some of it for ourselves," the gray rabbit said, voice still a little wheezy and weak, "...in case of injury."

"We've got plenty," the golden rabbit said breezily, "we're only here for another week anyway."

The huntress couldn't help but grind her teeth as she heard that. So she'd been right. They'd pack up soon and...

Again she felt a flicker of fear at the thought of what might happen to her then, but her mind kept drifting, she couldn't focus on any one subject for very long, no matter how important it was.

"Keep her hogtied," the gray rabbit suggested, "we obviously don't have her bound well enough if she can attack us." He shot a glare in her direction.

"Hogtied? That's not a very convenient position..." The golden rabbit said, scratching one side of his chin.

His words made the huntress squirm and the other rabbits laugh. Sensing an opportunity, the black rabbit piped up.

"How about a constant low dose of tincture," he said, "like what she's on now. It wouldn't take up much tincture, I don't think, and we could still have, uh, access."

Slowly, the huntress managed to squirm onto her side, sniffing back blood even as droplets of crimson pattered to the stone under her nose. Her position was awkward but she was no longer lying on her arms. She rolled her shoulders and looked away from the river, back up at the verdant walls of her valley. How beautiful they looked...

A paw landed on her shoulder and she jolted. The white rabbit had come to collect her. She bared her teeth but he merely turned her onto her front, the black rabbit coming to help him. The rabbits seemed to have come to an agreement of some sort, an adjustment on how to best keep her docile and subdued.

If they planned to keep feeding her tincture...

That defiant thought fizzled as the huntress realized she had no way to stop them. She hadn't been able to stop them when they'd tied her to the rack, she hadn't even been able to stop them earlier. And now she was slipping further and further into an opium haze, the finer edges of thought continually disintegrating.

The gray rabbit limped into the tent to recover and the golden rabbit returned to whatever it was he'd been doing, disappearing from sight. The black and white rabbits each took one of the huntress' arms and half escorted, half dragged her over to the edge of the river.

The huntress tried weakly to pull away but the rabbits worked in tandem. On any other day she'd have been stronger than them individually, but they knew how to work together to force her to their will.

She knew the spot they were taking her to even before they reached it. It was a shallow place, a little pool carved into the stony bank of the river. The water there was only a few feet deep and crystal clear. The rocks along the bottom were fine and pebbly, barely any larger than the tip of a person's finger. The huntress had bathed there before and seeing it again now, in this new and terribly context, tore a ragged sob from her.

The black rabbit undid the leather cuffs from around her ankles and the huntress snapped her legs shut, slumping to her knees as she did so. It was such a relief to be able to finally conceal at least one part of her, but even as she did so she could feel the rabbits' gazes sliding elsewhere.

"Are we untying her arms?" The black rabbit asked uncertainly.

The white rabbit shook his head and stripped down until he was just as naked as the huntress. The pink tip of his cock was already poking from his fuzzy sheath, the huntress saw, and hunched her shoulders, baring her teeth. The black rabbit followed suit, realizing what was about to happen.

The huntress gathered a snarl in the back of her throat, but before she could even begin to air it the white rabbit casually reached over and tipped her into the water.

It was cold enough to shock the breath from her and for a confused moment she was completely unsure which way was up. She thrashed in place, arms locked behind her back, then her feet found the pebbly bottom and she managed to get herself upright, surfacing with a frightened gasp. It was difficult to breathe through the waterlogged leather muzzle and she gasped and shook her head violently until she was getting air again.

The chill was enough to wake her at least partially up from the opium induced haze she was in, but the edges of the fog were stubborn and refused to stay gone. Already they were beginning to creep back in, even as the huntress caught her breath.

Then the rabbits were there, on either side of her again. She longed to curse at them, to sink her teeth into their flesh, but the muzzle remained stubbornly in place. Again she felt a heat behind her eyes, tears accumulating.

The white rabbit had produced a cake of white soap from somewhere. It was round and attached to a piece of rope so it couldn't easily be lost. The huntress tried to bump it out of his paws but the black rabbit grabbed her from behind and held her still as his companion lathered her fur. She could feel his member stiffening against her rear, the black rabbit not so subtly grinding against her.

The white rabbit took his time cleaning her fur, his paws roaming all over her body. The huntress was tense and her muscles, honed by a lifetime of hard work, showed through her wet fur. The white rabbit paid special attention to her breasts, enjoying the way the huntress growled each time he squeezed them or pinched her already sore nipples.

After some time he passed the soap to the black rabbit and slid a knee between her legs, forcing her thighs apart. A paw followed and the huntress could do nothing more than glare at the white rabbit as he pushed a pair of soap slicked fingers into her feline slit. It stung enough to bring tears to her eyes and she wasn't surprised when he quickly lost patience with that and replaced the invading fingers with his cock, hilting himself into her with one hard shove.

Emboldened, the black rabbit gripped the huntress' breasts and ground hard against her rear. The pointed tip of his member pressed hard against the tight pucker of her tail-hole and the huntress gritted her teeth. There was no lubrication other than a splash of pre to aid the imminent penetration and though she hated the very idea of doing it, the huntress forced herself to relax. The rabbits were still going to fuck her no matter how much she resisted. Clenching would only hurt her more and, very probably, increase the pleasure her rapists got from their assault.

The black rabbit's cock slid another inch into the velvety tightness of her tail-hole, then suddenly he was gasping, hips bucking. His paws tightened on her breasts and the huntress yelped as he forced the rest of his length into her ass, just in time to inject her with a boiling load of rabbit cum.

The white rabbit didn't take much longer to finish, spilling his load as deep into the huntress' soiled pussy as he could. For a quiet moment both rabbits remained hilted inside of the trembling tigress, the black rabbit still panting, recovering from his climax.

"Do you think she could be civilized?" The black rabbit asked, a hopeful, almost dreamy edge to his question.

The white rabbit scoffed, his answer requiring no words at all.

When they finally let her go, the huntress' legs failed beneath her and she slipped into a shaky kneeling position, up to her chin in the water. She sniffled, tears rolling silently down her cheeks, unsure what she could possibly do to resist. When the rabbits moved to put her back up against the riverbank she simply stayed limp and shut her eyes, letting them finish cleaning her up.

The black rabbit was called away at some point and made a reluctant exit, leaving the huntress in the sole care of the white rabbit. He stood behind her, arms wrapped around her middle, cock once again buried in her pussy. He thrust slowly and listened intently to the tiny whimpers that drifted free from the huntress each time he hurt her.

The tincture had taken full effect now, the huntress thought sluggishly to herself. Movement of any kind was a chore and though it occurred to her, on some distant plane, that she could kick the white rabbit or stamp on his foot, she couldn't quite figure out how to do that without falling over and potentially drowning.

The only thing she could do with any reliability was growl, which the white rabbit didn't seem to like.

Reaching up, he grabbed hold of one of the huntress' ears and forced her gaze down to the still water in front of her. She tried to shake her head free but the white rabbit's grip was too tight. She stared helplessly down to the faint reflection in the water. There she was, eyes swimmy and only slightly focused, ears drooping sadly to either side, more defeated than defiant. The muzzle covering her nose and mouth was still dripping pinkish water.

"Look at you now." The white rabbit hissed into her ear.

The huntress tried to snarl at him but realized she was trembling too badly to manage it. She stood silently and shut her eyes so at very least she wouldn't have to look at herself any longer.

The white rabbit shot another warm load deep inside of her, then teased her nipples until it became clear that the huntress was no longer rising to his provocations. Annoyed, he finally finished cleaning her but had to call for help in order to drag her out of the river and back up onto the bank.

The huntress remained perfectly limp the entire time, resolved not to do anything to make the rabbits' lives any easier. Judging from the number of muffled curses and annoyed glances she got on her way back to the tent, she thought she'd succeeded completely.

However, once she was back, the gray rabbit slicked her already abused tail-hole with oil and fucked her hard enough that after a while the huntress couldn't feel anything at all below her waist. The black rabbit, feeling just a little sorry for her, forced some more tincture down her throat and the huntress drifted back to a cloudy, uncertain sleep.

Was she broken? The huntress tried to dispute the question but it fell apart so completely that she almost forgot that it had even been asked. There were tears in her dreams, and pain and the sensation of being humiliated and abused over and over again. And still her arms were immobilized and still she could not bite or claw or scratch or even scream.

When she awoke next it was still daylight but probably not the same day, for the arrangement of things in the tent had changed somewhat and once again the fur between her legs was sticky with cum. There were spatters of seed between her breasts and in the fur at the corners of her mouth. The leather muzzle had been removed but the huntress' jaw felt sore and all she could taste was rabbit cum. When the huntress tried to pick herself up she was too sore even to sit upright without first taking a long time to convince herself that enduring the pain would be worth it.

She felt dizzy and hunched over, eyes focused on the ground and the furs she was sitting upon. Splintery bursts of red hot pain shot from her tail-hole, in time with her heart, and the huntress supposed that the gray rabbit had probably not been the last to use it. She could feel hot trickles of liquid dribbling from both holes but did not know if it was blood or cum. Either option was equally unpleasant.

It took her a long moment to realize that she had been collared in her sleep. A sturdy woven rawhide cord led from her collar to a steel spike that had been hammered into the ground. It gave her about four feet of slack, she thought, not nearly enough to reach the doorway of the tent or any of the bedrolls where the rabbits slept.

The huntress slowly made her way over to the spike and tested it with her feet, finding it immovable even upon being kicked. Next she looked to the rawhide and popped a length into her mouth, trying to chew through it. The motion made her jaw ache but she kept it up. Even if she would be effectively immobilized even after her leash was severed, defeating one piece of her bindings would still feel good.

It didn't take long for her sharp teeth to defeat the rawhide and the huntress examined the spike again. It looked like a giant nail, with a rounded top and a smooth, circular shaft. There wasn't any real place for her to try to rub her bindings against in order to sever them.

The huntress sat back, again testing the spreader bar that was forcing her legs apart. It still looked intimidatingly solid, there wasn't any way she'd be able to break it without also breaking her ankles.

Wait.

The muzzle was off. Her mouth was free. Her teeth were available for use.

The huntress took a deep breath and listened for a moment. She could hear at least one of the rabbits outside, working at some part of their plunder operation. She could smell things too, fish being dried, pipe smoke and something acrid that she couldn't identify.

None of the rabbits (she thought it was the white and black ones who were closest) seemed to be heading towards the tent, but she had to assume that they'd come in to fetch something or worse sooner or later.

She had to work fast.

Again the huntress took a deep breath and was quietly thankful that the rabbits had left her muzzle off. Then she leaned down and made use of her feline flexibility to bend almost double, lips pushed against the leather cuff locking her left ankle to the wooden spreader bar. She couldn't break the bar itself, she knew that, but she could chew through the cuffs.

It would just take some time to do so...

The huntress started at the edge, snipping a tiny section with each bite. The cuffs weren't especially tight, which she was grateful for, but she still had to take little nips at her fur on occasion. Still, even as the cuff grew slippery with saliva and the ragged hole at the edge of the cuff grew bigger and bigger, she began to allow herself a cautious sense of hope.

When the first cuff broke loose she could hardly believe it. The huntress straightened her legs with a muted gasp, the muscles along her inner thighs spasming. The pain brought tears to her eyes still the huntress remained silent. She couldn't risk alerting the rabbits to the fact that she was awake, especially now that any of them would be able to tell at a glance that she was trying to escape.

Again she pulled herself into a kneel, putting her ankles together. The spreader bar stuck awkwardly out to the side, but the huntress didn't think she needed to deal with the other cuff just yet. Her legs were free, which meant that she could bring the sharp claws that tipped each toe into use.

She had to lean backwards, curling her toes upwards as she did, until her claws met the rawhide bonds that held her wrists together. This would be been agonizing with her legs spread, now it was merely difficult. The position hurt and the huntress could feel herself shivering with the effort, but as she busily worked each strand of rawhide over her claws, she forced herself to stay exactly how she was. She was already past the point of no return. Either she succeeded now or she'd never succeed at all.

In a way the pain was almost a relief. It allowed her to forget about everything that had happened to her, context was erased. It didn't matter what had happened to her over the past few days, it didn't matter that she had been defeated and humiliated and used. The situation in its entirety was that she was tied up and needed to escape. Everything else could be dealt with later.

One of the rawhide cords gave and the huntress felt her wrists jerk a fraction of an inch further apart. A wild sort of joy surged in her heart and she very nearly laughed out loud. Alarmed, she paused momentarily and listened again, ears flicking up. The rabbits were still roughly where they'd been when she'd begun. They had to be checking their racks of dried fish, counting their ill gotten profits.

She took another deep breath, then resumed, sawing through another piece of her bindings, flexing her fingers as she did so. Her paws felt tingly but not very numb, the rabbits hadn't tied her tight enough to completely cut off blood flow, which in itself was a small relief.

More and more strands fell, and soon enough the huntress realized she could wriggle her wrists, the bonds were coming loose, soon enough she'd have her paws free. Then she could get the cuff off of her other ankle and from there she could find some way to slip away from the camp and--

The sound of someone advancing through the gravel shattered her thoughts. One of the rabbits was approaching, saying something indistinct back to his fellow as he approached. She recognized the black rabbit's voice and felt a shock of fear squeeze her chest.

Oh shit. What could she do now? She thought she could tug her paws free if she really tried, her bonds were just about loose enough, but then what? Should she fight? The was her first instinct, but if she made noise or allowed the black rabbit to call for help then she'd be dealing with his companions as well. And she'd lose that fight, even if she killed or hurt a few of them. She knew that already. She'd lose and then they'd probably rape her a few last times before killing her.

Perhaps she could take him down quietly, but he'd see she was loose in moments, that wouldn't leave her a very big window to subdue him. And she wasn't even sure if she could fight considering the state she was in.

Then an idea sprang into her mind, a realization tucked within. She was thinking like a protector, a guardian still. That wouldn't work in a situation like this. Fighting the rabbits head on had only resulted in her being beaten and drugged and abused, over and over again. She had to adjust her tactics. She had to appeal to an outsider, a hedonistic, libertine degenerate. What would placate somebody like that?

The answer that sprang immediately into her mind was so terrible that she nearly rejected it out of hand. But...

The black rabbit opened the tent door and stepped inside. Even as the flap dropped behind him his eyes were going to where the huntress was sitting, her legs stretched out before him, one ankle apparently freshly freed from its leather cuff. She allowed her eyes to widen and surprise to dominate her expression. She let herself gasp, keeping her arms firmly behind her back, as though they were still solidly tied.

The black rabbit froze, blinking hard, and the huntress immediately ducked her head, ears drooping and whiskers twitching with feigned dismay. She had to appear submissive and sorry, a naughty kitten caught in an act of disobedience, a beaten slave submitting to a master.

She shook her head desperately even as the black rabbit opened his mouth to call out.

"Please." She whispered.

In front of her, the rabbit hesitated, conflicted and confused. He wanted to believe her submissive act, but she was trying to escape. The huntress tried to remember what he'd said back at the riverbank, his question there. He wanted to believe she could be molded into something like him. He was sympathetic, in a stunted, evil sort of way. Still, he was hovering right on the edge of calling for help.

If he did that then her whole plan would fail.

"I know you want to help me." She said, a desperate edge entering her voice. She was careful to keep her voice low, so only the black rabbit could hear her.

It was the right thing to say. The black rabbit took a slow step forward, still cautious but not quite as fearful as he'd been before she spoke.

"You're always kind to me," the huntress continued, nearly choking on the lie, "...if you don't say anything I'll do whatever you want. Anything."

The black rabbit blinked hard, ears twitching in place, as though they'd been physically caressed by her words. She could almost hear his heart beginning to hammer, a blush showing clear through his fur. Even though he'd probably fucked every hole in her body, having her actually responsive to his desires...that had to be new. Exciting. Exactly how she wanted him to feel.

The black rabbit's paws strayed to the front of his pants, where a bulge was beginning to grow, then hesitated.

"Can I trust you?" He asked, and the huntress was relieved to see that his voice was kept low as well. He'd already bought in, he just didn't realize it yet.

The huntress looked at him, trying to seem sad and defeated, her last ditch effort spoiled. She slumped her shoulders and did everything to appear smaller, cowed and beaten. As icing atop the submissiveness cake she pretended to strain against the rawhide keeping her wrists together, slumping forward upon being 'defeated'.

"If I hurt you your friends would kill me." She said.

The black rabbit nodded thoughtfully.

"Maybe I should call them over." He said, trying to sound thoughtful, like he was actually going to do it. The huntress knew he wasn't, his voice was still quiet and low, he just wanted her to grovel and beg. But she could do that...if it meant luring him further into her trap.

She pricked herself with her claws, forcing tears to the corners of her eyes, shaking her head as she did so.

"They're so cruel to me," she all but begged, shifting anxiously in place, "please..."

The black rabbit took a deep, shivery breath. He had to feel powerful, holding her fate in his paws. The huntress fought to keep a grimace off her face and wondered what he would want. Had she overplayed her hand by saying 'anything'?

The black rabbit stripped down, his cock around hard, pre beading at the tip. He was practically trembling with excitement. The huntress remained still as he approached, but rather than pushing her onto her back or flipping her over, he simply traced a pair of fingers along the side of her muzzle. It took everything she had in her not to take them off at the top knuckle.

"Open your mouth." The black rabbit breathed and the huntress obeyed, knowing already what he wanted. In front of her the rabbit stroked both paws along the sides of her head, scratching behind her ears. The huntress forced herself to purr, hoping the sound wasn't as mechanical and unenthusiastic as it seemed to her.

But if the black rabbit noticed anything off about her conduct he showed no signs. Indeed his enthusiasm was unalloyed. He stepped forward, gliding his tapered shaft along the huntress' tongue and into her throat, hilting himself in her mouth in a single thrust.

She gagged, squirming in place as her air was cut off. Every instinct she had demanded she pull away or bite down, either or, but she knew she couldn't. If she disappointed the black rabbit then he'd probably call for his companions. If she bit down then he'd scream and the same thing would happen. She didn't much like the odds in either circumstance.

The black rabbit gasped, ears folding back, and began to buck his hips, heavy balls slapping against the huntress' chin. She slitted her eyes, paws balled into fists behind her. It was humiliating to do this, to simply let an outsider treat her like a plaything, but it had to be done. He had to be rendered vulnerable.

Her breath came in sips, the rabbit's cock plugging her throat the rest of the time. Suddenly she was glad she'd been either drugged or unconscious the other times this had been done to her. Being fucked in the mouth wasn't painful exactly, but there was a unique sort of distress to being suffocated in fits and starts.

The black rabbit gasped as he fucked her, cock twitching as his pleasure mounted. The huntress squirmed in place but didn't dare move her head. Instead she slowly tested what remained of her bonds, enjoying the gradual shift around her wrists as the last fe strands of rawhide threatened to give way. Now, she thought, she could probably break free in a single tug. Then it would be a simple matter of tugging the leather bags off and she'd be more or less fully mobile.

The thought of that helped cheer her enough that she was almost able to ignore the black rabbit's increasingly desperate thrusts into her mouth. A hot jet of salty pre splashed the back of her throat, then, suddenly, he was withdrawing, a string of saliva hanging between his cock and her open mouth.

The black rabbit quickly maneuvered into a new position, placing himself on the furs, on his back. His saliva slicked cock stuck proudly into the air, twitching, little pulses of pre sliding down the length of his shaft.

Before the huntress could react he'd pulled her atop him, hips bucking reflexively as the pointed tip of his cock brushed over her tight feline pussy.

"Ride me." He ordered, still quiet.

The huntress tried to pull her bonds apart. She was in a perfect position now, the rabbit on his back in front of her, perfectly vulnerable and unsuspecting.

Rawhide stretched, a few strands giving way...but the bonds held. Her wrists were still bound together, rawhide digging into her flesh. The huntress blinked, trying hard not to look suspicious, and shuffled her hips, like she was actually doing something. The black rabbit's cock danced over her slit again and then he was pushing into her with a gasp.

The huntress jolted, unable to keep herself from reflexively clenching, a bright shock of pain rolling between her legs as the rabbit's member stretched her sore hole. Desire took over and, rather than waiting for the huntress to drain him on her own, the black rabbit gripped the tigress' hips and pumped desperately into her. He managed a half dozen fast thrusts, then exploded inside of her with a strangled grunt, balls tightening against the creamy white fur edging the huntress' stretched cunt. His load splashed her womb and once again all the huntress could think about was the golden rabbit's mocking words from earlier. Had they fucked her pregnant yet.

She didn't bother trying her wrists again. Instead she leaned forward, breasts brushing the black rabbit's chest, and sank her teeth into his throat. It was a remarkably smooth motion for how much it hurt to pull off.

The black rabbit stiffened under her, the look in his eyes going to confusion, like he couldn't comprehend what had just happened. The huntress felt her teeth slide through fur and skin like butter, clip through arteries and scrape against tough cartilage. Blood overflowed her mouth and sprayed across the sides of her face. Beneath her, the rabbit tried to push her off, paws batting helplessly against her sides, but his motions were confused and weak. She heard his feet lift up, then drop onto the gravel again. He didn't even manage to kick, he'd already lost too much blood by the time his nerves got around to firing.

The huntress worked her teeth deeper, making sure to close her jaws around the rabbit's windpipe. He managed a vague, whispery sort of exhalation, then his mouth was overflowing with blood, eyes dimming.

She sat up, breathing hard, and swallowed the blood in her mouth. Her heart was hammering and she felt shaky as she slid off of the rabbit, cum drooling down the inside of one thigh. The last moments of his life had probably been a pretty extreme whiplash, she supposed faintly, then looked to where his discarded clothes were puddled. This time when she tried her wrists the rawhide broke without much resistance.

There was a sheath knife of his belt, and the huntress helped herself to it, using the flawless steel blade to cut off the remaining leather cuff that trapped her ankle. The fur had been worn away in bands around both her wrists and ankles and the huntress flexed both her fingers and toes, taking a few deep breaths before trying to stand up.

She could, but her legs felt jittery and weak beneath her, the pain between her legs worse than ever.

There were still three rabbits, and somehow she thought the trick she'd just pulled probably wouldn't work a second time. The black rabbit looked smaller in death, splayed out on his back, the expression on his face still primarily one of complete surprise.

Three against one...

At least she had a knife now.

The huntress listened carefully to the world outside of the tent, knife balanced in one paw, held at the ready. She'd moved alongside the doorway now and had one ear just barely touching the fabric.

There was one rabbit directly in front of her, another around the side of the tent...which was fine. The tent had only one way in or out. Where the fourth rabbit was she didn't know, but the complete lack of presence probably meant they were either by or directly in the river, masked by the rushing water.

The huntress took another deep breath, trying to steady herself on her feet. If it came to a fight then her chances were not very good. She'd have to think asymmetrically.

One rabbit in front of her...

Leaning over, the huntress picked up a handful of gravel from the floor of the tent, wincing as she did so. It would be a while before she was able to move normally again...even if she did get away from here.

Balancing the stones in her hand, she turned and threw them hard at the small stack of crates on the other side of the tent. They connected with a sharp rattling patter and the rabbit in front of the tent immediately stopped what they were doing. So did the other one around the side of the tent.

The rabbit in front of the tent called a name, sounding almost annoyed. It was the golden rabbit speaking, the huntress realized, the name had to belong to the one she'd just killed.

She threw more gravel, a wide, unaimed handful of it, and the golden rabbit started forward. He sounded unhappy, presumably suspecting that his companion was messing around with something, or breaking things, or...

The fabric flap went up and the golden rabbit appeared in the doorway, momentum carrying him a step forward even as his body language stiffened, eyes fastening on the bloodied corpse of his companion, the pool of crimson currently soaking into the pile of furs...the neatly chewed edge of the rawhide leash.

The huntress reached out and unzipped the side of the golden rabbit's throat before he could do more than realize what was about to happen. A spurt of blood caught her full in the chest and the rabbit turned sharply in place, paws shooting up in a defensive gesture that was almost a full second too late. He tried to say something but his windpipe was already filling with blood. One leg buckled and he fell onto his side, twitching desperately in place, eyes wide and filled with confused fear.

Why did they all look like that? Did they not think that this was going to happen?

Now the other rabbit was moving along the side of the tent. He had to have heard his friend fall over. Yeah...his approach was slower, more deliberate. He probably had a weapon of some kind at the ready. Though the huntress wanted badly to leap out into the open and slash him to ribbons with her knife, she knew it wasn't that kind of confrontation. Even one on one odds didn't exactly favor her right now.

Slowly, silently, the huntress lifted the fabric doorway to the tent and forced herself to keep her eyes open to adjust to the sunlight. The other rabbit was still moving up the side of the tent. He wasn't on the side facing the river so he probably didn't have line of sight on his surviving friend.

Neither was he calling out. Perhaps he didn't think she knew where he was.

Taking care to remain as silent as she could, the huntress gathered a small handful of stones in her free paw and flicked one at the side of the tent, just behind where she thought the rabbit was. His footsteps immediately stopped and she heard a tiny squeal of gravel as he turned around. As he did she stepped smoothly away and let the tent flap ease back into place. It was shockingly hard to move smoothly now, the huntress more limped than snuck, a grimace seated on her face, but she was still being quiet.

She slipped around the side of the tent and suddenly, only a few feet away, there was the gray rabbit. He was facing the side of the tent, a double barreled long gun aimed cautiously at the canvas. He'd clearly heard her stone and was debating whether or not to blast the tent just to be sure. He knew something was wrong...he was just facing the wrong direction.

Pebbles grated under the huntress' feet and the gray rabbit jolted, turning in place, long gun coming to his shoulder. There were maybe eight feet between them and the huntress acted fast, flinging her handful of gravel int the rabbit's face. He ducked away and in an instant she was right on top of him, knife jamming hard under his jaw, the tip of the blade crunching between a pair of vertebrae. The impact jolted up her arm and she lost grip on her blade, falling to one knee along with the mortally wounded rabbit. He pulled the trigger on his gun and one barrel blasted the air just behind the huntress' head, the hearing in one ear replaced by a high ringing squeal.

She tugged the long gun from his arms and stumbled back, the gray rabbit falling onto his face, hands trapped him, still desperately twitching in the vague direction of the knife in his throat.

Okay. Three down. That left--

The huntress turned and there was the white rabbit, right at the corner of the tent. He blinked hard, eyes flashing down to the two dark barrels of the long gun the huntress held.

He had a curved filleting knife in one paw, she saw, the blade still speckled with fish scales.

"You don't know how to use that," he said, "put it down."

The huntress raked back the flint on the other, unfired barrel. She'd seen it done before. She knew what came next. The white rabbit's ears folded back and he began to take a slow step back, knife clattering to the gravel.

"We were going to let you go." He said, voice catching. His eyes kept flashing to the side, where he had to be able to see at least a sliver of the carnage in the tent.

"Liar." The huntress growled, and pulled the trigger. The kick and ear-shattering blast were surprising enough that she let go of the weapon and jolted away, falling hard onto her side as she did. For a frightened moment she was convinced that she'd missed the white rabbit, that he would be charging through the gun-smoke to attack her, but as the acrid fog cleared the huntress could see a shape lying along the front of the tent, on its side.

Her shot had caught the white rabbit in the stomach and folded him nearly in two. He squirmed in place, a hoarse, coughing sort of gasp leaking from his mouth. His lips were pink with blood and every breath he took landed a thin mist of red droplets on the gravel in front of his face. Blood ran along his whiskers.

The huntress stood and retrieved the long gun, even though she knew it was empty. She used it as a makeshift cane and limped over to the white rabbit, who was trying to worm his way towards...oh. The little dark glass bottle of tincture. It lay impotently in the gravel, cracks running along its sides. The huntress stopped alongside him and forced him onto his back with one foot. The white rabbit whimpered, a thin, pathetic little noise.

"Please..." He whispered, voice gurgly and full of blood. His eyes kept flashing from her to the tincture bottle.

His wound was mortal. He'd die soon. The huntress knew she could leave him alone, but if that meant him getting any measure of comfort...

She found the tincture bottle and, without emotion, chucked it into the river. The white rabbit groaned.

The huntress thought for a moment about leaving him to suffer. There would be some vindictive satisfaction in that, some knowledge that at least her captors had suffered dearly for what they had done to her, but even trying to foresee happiness about that didn't make the huntress feel much of anything.

This was all part of the same chore she'd started however many days ago. To cleanse her valley of outsider filth. She'd made mistakes and the errand had run long, but now it was at an end.

And she didn't want there to be outsiders here for a moment longer than absolutely necessary.

The huntress stepped next to the white rabbit and raised the long gun over her head, gripping it by the barrel, like she had an axe and was chopping wood.

"Stop." The white rabbit pleaded.

They hadn't listened when she'd said that same thing, and the huntress didn't listen now. She brought her long gun down and broke the stock on the white rabbit's head. Then she did it again, and again until her arms were numb and there was nothing recognizable left to hit.

She tossed the barrel of the long gun into the river and slowly, painfully made the climb up to the place where she'd first scouted the rabbits' camp from what felt like an eternity before. Her bow and arrow were gone, taken by the rabbits and either stashed somewhere in their camp or destroyed. It didn't matter, she supposed, she didn't need them at the moment.

The huntress let herself collapse into a sitting position at the base of a birch and took a deep breath. It was closer to evening than she'd realized, the sun was beginning to set. For a moment she thought about going back down to the river to wash herself off, she was covered in blood and spatters of cum. She touched the splash of blood that covered her breasts, then the sticky red mask that covered her face. There was blood from every one of her captors on her, a reminder that she'd done exactly what was necessary to remove every last one.

She'd wash it off eventually, but for the moment it made her feel safe, invulnerable almost. The huntress shut her eyes and forced herself to relax for just a moment, to truly let go of the terror and tenseness and fear she'd been holding inside of herself ever since she'd been captured. It was hard, facing even a tiny piece of the trauma made her tremble and wonder how it would ever be okay again. She'd killed the people responsible for raping and drugging and beating her, but that didn't erase the things that they had done.

She took another deep breath.

It wouldn't all go immediately, perhaps some of it would never go at all, but the huntress knew on some deep, almost instinctive level that she'd learn to live with it. It could take a while, a lifetime even, but she thought that at the end of it all she would be okay.