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The night after graduation there was always a party out by the lake. This year, since a member of the graduating class had rich parents, the party spot had moved to a flashy summer home with a boathouse and its own private pier. Word had been circulating around school for the past few weeks, gradually ramping up in terms of promised debauchery. It would be a rager, a blowout, a real proper farewell before everyone went to college. Sadie had not wanted to go. No matter how ritzy the surrounds, parties were all the same to her; loud, tacky with spilt beer and packed to the gills with people she did not know. These were Savannah’s friends. Sadie felt out of place. She had only been in town for a year and Savannah’s friend for much less time than that. Home-schooled for her entire life before now. Attending a regular school still felt like being the newest specimen introduced to a vivarium. Even when things went right she still could not know how they worked or if her own actions were beneficial. Always a pall of uncertainty, worry and…ugh. Best not to think about any of it. Really, Savannah was the only reason Sadie had…not agreed to go, necessarily, but also not protested at the idea of being dragged along. Savannah drove a lime green hatchback, dented and sputtering, the patient sufferer of far too much wild coyote driving. There were already people inside when Savannah screeched to a halt in front of Sadie’s building—the squeal of tires on asphalt was an even more reliable indicator of Savannah’s arrival than the beep of her horn. Sadie, who had only just gotten out of the shower, rushed through getting dressed and hurried outside, water still sparkling on her whiskers. At the sight of her, Savannah leaned halfway through the front driver window and let out an appreciative wolf-whistle (coyote-whistle?). She wore a loose pink shirt, the neck stretched so it hung low enough to expose cleavage. “Hey kitty, you wanna come party with us?” Savannah called, leaning forward. Sadie could see straight down the neck of the coyote’s shirt. Savannah’s breasts were pert and small, nearly lost amidst the creamy white fluff on her chest. Silver barbell piercings gleamed, contrasting the inky black of Savannah’s nipples. A startling, electric shiver jolted Sadie’s heart and kickstarted a nervous warmth between her legs. Her tufted lynx ears flicked out to the sides and Sadie felt the soft fur on her nubby little tail stand straight. “Um…” She managed. “Now listen, this is an exclusive party and nobody gets in for free.” Savannah continued, stroking her gaze salaciously along Sadie’s legs and the swell of her chest. She was joking, playing a weird game, but the idea of it being real made the insides of Sadie’s ears go red. An image flashed behind her eyes; Savannah making her kneel, forcing her to earn a place in the car. Sadie managed a shaky little laugh, arms hugged self consciously around herself. She suddenly felt very pink and warm, the night ahead full of possibilities. Savannah was always so incomprehensibly bold. At once it horrified and intrigued her. For an instant Sadie wanted to step forward and press her lips to Savannah’s crooked, pleased smile…but there were people watching and her fur was messy and now that she thought about it she was pretty sure that her shirt was inside out. And besides, it would never happen. Savannah was straight. Straight girls, especially the bold ones, liked to joke sometimes. They were never actually serious. Putting those nervous thoughts from her mind, Sadie glanced over the car. She’d imagined herself up front with Sadie, but the coyote had already taken on passengers and cargo. There was a brown bear crammed into the front seat, his head pressed against the roof. This was Trey, who played linebacker on the school team and when off the field always acted like he was sliding into an early hibernation. Behind him, one half of the shared backseat was taken up by a silver keg (belted neatly in place) and the other by a lounging male coyote. Looking from front to back, from coyote to coyote, it was a bit disorienting just how similar in appearance they were. Sadie caught an unhappy groan between her teeth. Of course Lane had to tag along. Savannah glanced back, across the crowded interior of the hatchback. Her crooked coyote grin became at once amused and faintly apologetic. “Sorry, yeah, we ran into Trey,” she began (“sup,” said Trey with ursine amiability). “…And I forget how little this car is.” “Good thing she’s little too.” Lane said with a tiny smirk, just wide enough to show a hint of his fangs. Savannah didn’t even bother acknowledging her twin. They might have looked the same, but in terms of personality the two canines were leagues apart. Where she was manic and impulsive, Lane remained quiet and purposeful. Sadie had thought she might like him at first. Then had come the needling and the subtle digs. Never provoked (she didn’t think) and never so cruel that there wasn’t plausible deniability, but Sadie knew for sure that Lane did not like her. She had tried to explain her misgivings to Savannah at one point, but the words hadn’t come correctly and the coyote had quickly become distracted by something else. Sadie’s strategy turned to one of avoidance. This worked better some times than it did others. “I guess I could…” Sadie was about to suggest that she squeeze into the sliver of negative space beside the keg when Savannah spoke. “Just sit on Lane’s lap,” the coyote breezily declared. “It’s like a ten minute drive.” By which she meant five minutes, provided she broke enough traffic laws. Lane gave her a steady, indecipherable look. Sadie knew better than to grumble or protest, though she could not keep a displeased sigh from leaking through her teeth. She opened the door and gingerly sat, Lane warm and solid beneath her. Static crackled from his fur to hers and, since his legs were wide open and his posture very relaxed, Sadie felt herself almost forced to mirror it, especially once Savannah hit the gas. Sadie always thought about NASA training when entering the hatchback, videos of astronauts enduring massive g-forces in the centrifuge. Surely they were never made to sit tandem, pressed tightly together. She stayed rigid, gaze fixed ahead and the insides of her ears glowing a gentle pink. Each bump and turn and wild acceleration made the whole thing feel inordinately intimate, as though she were being made to rub herself against Lane. The longer she sat the more apparently she could feel the thick, heavy bulge of his sheath. Not hard, not getting hard (she hoped), but housing a certain terrible male potential that made her dizzy even to think about. It was a bit like sitting atop a slumbering volcano, no idea when the next eruption might be, only a certainty that if it caught her there would be no escape. Glancing into the rearview mirror, Sadie could see half of the coyote’s face, still wearing a hint of that same smirk. He knew she was uncomfortable. Would it be better if she tried to look nonchalant, or…no, best not to send the wrong message. Whatever that message would even be. He didn’t know she was a lesbian, nobody did, but at least she was very clear about not liking him. Driving out to the lake seemed to take an extremely long time. Savannah brought the car to a skidding halt along a gravel driveway which wound between elms and poplars all the way to…was that a flagstone courtyard with a fountain? All of this for a summer home? The house itself was two stories, built in a French imperial style that might have looked more at home in eighteenth century Versailles. All of it was lit up, leaping out from the dark, insisting upon its own grandeur. Sadie left the car gratefully, doing her best not to look at Lane. Savannah leapt from the hatchback as though spring-loaded and draped an arm over Sadie’s shoulders, drawing her near. Sadie went, glad to be held close as they made their way towards a noisy, unknown place. “Thanks for the ride,” said Trey, unfolding himself ponderously from the front seat. He hauled the keg out and held it up with one paw, not seeming to notice the weight. “You, uh, want me to put this anywhere?” “Just give it to Bradley, he’ll know what to do with it.” Said Savannah. The bear went off, keg held under one arm. There were other people heading up the path, a few classmates who Sadie recognized and then a whole bunch of unknown others. Already she could feel herself drawing inward, becoming quiet and small. Utterly unnoticeable. “Hey kitty, you good?” Savannah asked, stroking a finger along Sadie’s cheek. Sadie blinked, at once startled and delighted by this trace of intimacy. She managed a wan smile. “I’m alright.” She said. Savannah kissed her on the cheek. Sadie squirmed, her whiskers shooting straight and a delighted, halfway embarrassed smile squirming onto her face. “Savannah…” She began to say, and was just ginning up the courage to ask if Savannah would please stay close when the coyote’s attention was drawn elsewhere. A pair of raccoons were dashing past, arms loaded with stacks of red plastic cups. “Beer pong, you and me!” One of them called. “I’ll get you this time, I swear!” Savannah laughed. “God, I’ve been looking forward to this for so long,” the coyote said, half to herself, then straightened and threw her arms straight. “Whoo, party!” A matching chorus rose around them and Savannah strode happily forward into the maelstrom. Sadie hesitated, had to stop from hugging her arms around herself, then blew out a breath. It was alright. Savannah wasn’t obligated to stick to her like glue the whole night. Lane had hung slightly back and now he stepped close. “There’s a library on the second floor,” he said, nodding towards the house. “Nobody ever goes up there, so it’s a decent place to hide.” And then he was gone, waving companionably to a gaggle of other partygoers. Sadie wandered up to the house. The long stony lawn which lay between the house and the lake was dotted with people; somebody was doing tricks with an LED festooned drone while an otter with an acoustic guitar maintained a lonely exile off to the side. The courtyard was more closely packed and the house itself, where Savannah had gone, vibrated with noise and manic action. “Heeeey, Sadie,” a voice came from behind her and Sadie felt a hoof fumble clumsily over her left ear, trying to tweak the tuft. “Look at you, partying down.” Sadie turned and put on what she hoped was a polite smile, the sort of expression someone having fun at a party might make. Her interlocutor was a roe deer, ochre furred and already quite drunk. This was Rebecca, who sat beside her in biology and always shamelessly copied from her paper on test days. Beside the doe was an athletic looking rabbit Sadie didn’t know, just as drunk. Out came his paw, though Sadie stepped back before he could mess with her ears. “Hey kitty, you wanna have a drink with us…” The bunny began to say, segueing immediately into drunken flirting. Rebecca rolled her eyes and herded him past. Sadie, who had been planning to remain stone sober for the night, now felt a sudden, desperate desire for something strong. She steeled herself and slipped in through the packed doorway. Whoever owned the house (the aforementioned Bradley, perhaps) had taken some precautions against damage. There was plastic sheeting on the floor, already beer sticky and gritty with crushed pretzels. Beneath it, Sadie saw polished hardwood and then the warm red of woven oriental rugs. All of the expensive furniture had been removed in favor of folding chairs and plastic tables. The crowd around the beer pong table was thick enough that Sadie could only see flashes of the game, pale flickers of the ping-pong ball as it passed back and forth. A hint of brindle fur and the swish of a wagging tail caught her eyes and Sadie saw a flash of Savannah, the coyote lining up a throw. She took a deep breath and wormed her way forward, pressed between warm, jostling bodies. She was smaller than most of the others in the room. Even the addition of her tall, tufted ears could only do so much. Savannah threw and sank. Sadie edged up next to her, feeling slightly lost even now that she’d found her friend. “Hey,” said Savannah, flashing her a quick, somewhat distracted glance. “You wanna play? I bet I could make this into a doubles thing…” Already Sadie was shaking her head. “No, no, it’s fine, I was just…” It was hard to make herself heard over the noise of the party; the bustle of people, music and the claustrophobic, crushing sensation of being insignificant within a place where everybody else was enjoying themselves. “Are you having a good time?” Savannah asked distractedly. Her opponent threw and missed, so she had to take a moment to heckle him. Sadie nodded vaguely, thought about saying more, but Savannah only swatted her on the rear, like a cliché ‘50s executive dismissing a wayward secretary. “Go have fun, kitty. Get a drink, talk to people!” Savannah called over the noise, and then Sadie found herself subsumed by the crowd and jostled away. She extricated herself into a patch of clear space by the end of a couch, her fur ruffled and whiskers crooked. The sensation of Savannah’s paw tingled on her ass, but she could only extract a feeling of lonely disappointment from the past few moments. Get a drink. Talk to people. Though she knew this likely wasn’t true, an unhappy voice inside of her invented a new thing for Savannah to have said. Leave me alone. Brushing the static from her clothes, Sadie caught her fingers on a protruding tag and sighed. So her shirt was inside out after all. Damnit. It took some effort to straighten herself back up and try to put a positive spin on the evening. She restated Savannah’s advice to herself, more casual and friendly now. Have a drink, talk to people…and have a whole barrel of fun. Easier said than done, particularly with her stomach in knots and her heart thrumming anxiously along at a million miles per hour, but she at least had to try. The bar was in the next room over, a carved hardwood station that might have looked very elegant had it not been crowded with kegs, red plastic cups and vividly colored bags of snack food. A cup was thrust before her nose and Sadie fumblingly took it. The beer was warm and had lost most of its zip. Still, she drank a good portion of it mechanically, figuring that this was what people were supposed to do. Then she retreated back next to the couch and felt vaguely ill. Sadie had gotten drunk exactly once before, on a bottle of vodka Savannah had provided. They’d hung out atop a hill overlooking the old graveyard, far enough from town that they could hear no cars and see only a hint of yellow electrical glow at the edge of the sky. There had been stars and crickets and the squeak of bats. A very different setting from…this. Sadie had spent that whole evening practically vibrating with a desperate hope that the vodka might make Savannah kiss her. The coyote had laid in her lap and played with the tufts on her ears instead. Thinking about this, even obliquely, made her face go hot and her whiskers tremble. “Are you feeling neglected?” Came a voice from right beside her, its tone faintly teasing. Sadie jumped, thankfully not enough to spill her drink. Lane seemed to materialize on the nearer end of the sofa, casual as ever. He sat with one leg kicked up over the sofa’s arm so that he was halfway faced to her. In one paw he had a red plastic cup of his own, filled with something darker and more substantive than beer. Sadie rolled her eyes at the coyote. It would have been wise simply to leave, but she couldn’t think of where to go. There was the library upstairs, but Lane had told her about that and, though she couldn’t think how, it had to be some sort of trap. Sadie fussily sipped her beer, fur shivering upright and eyes squinting at the taste. Lane watched, pitying her with his eyes. “She really only ever hangs out with extroverts, so this might be a learning experience for her. I’m sure she’s not ignoring you on purpose.” He said, voice raised above the noise. “What do you want?” Sadie asked, surprised by her own bluntness. Perhaps it was the beer having an effect, loosening the binds on her sense of daring. Or else it was just her natural reaction to being around Lane. If the coyote was surprised by her tone he gave no indication. “You can’t sulk and mope whenever she stops paying attention to you,” Lane continued, as if she hadn’t spoken. “Of course, you ran away when she tried to get you to play games. Probably for the best. Look at you, half a beer and you’re already swaying.” Sadie planted her feet, at once indignant and embarrassed. She wasn’t that drunk. Just a little swimmy. Still, the only rebuttals that rose immediately through the beer fizz were empty, childish ones. Nuh-uh. Shut up. Go away. Probably presented in exactly that order. None of it would be effective. The coyote might obey and head off to bother someone else, but then she’d be alone with her thoughts…and what remained of the awful, awful beer. Sadie grimaced faintly, just as much at herself as at Lane. The final option was that she run away. Go outside, perhaps. Out with the drone guy and the guitar guy and…her feet remained planted. Why was she staying and playing this stupid game? “All of Savannah’s other friends, they would have stayed and played beer pong,” said Lane. He’d leaned in a little closer, his tone conversational, as though he were a friend giving casual advice. “There’s gonna be a lot of that during the summer, now that school’s over and the nerds stop being so handy to hang around with.” Sadie pushed her free paw along the fur on her other arm, which was beginning to prickle upright. Her stomach felt leaden and a dark, claustrophobic border had dropped over the edges of her vision. Whatever her ears and whiskers were doing was anyone’s guess. On some level she knew that the coyote was just being cruel for the sake of it. No truth to any of what he was saying. Savannah wasn’t just a party girl. She liked to walk in the woods and see movies, talk about life and catch fireflies, sit on the graveyard hill and watch the stars… Yet, something about the lonely clamor of the party and the certainty of Lane’s tone made all of this seem immaterial. For a dark instant Sadie was certain that she’d be completely overcome by panic. It was only the scrutiny of the coyote’s gaze that made some of the terror dissipate. Anger welled up to replace it, insisting she prove him wrong. She straightened, pressed her cup stiffly into Lane’s free paw, then turned and made her way back towards the crowd around the beer pong table. Her heart still raced, but now she had a feeling of desperate purpose. She wouldn’t run. Savannah was still playing, thankfully. Still nobody had defeated her and a queue of prospective opponents had accumulated, the mass of spectators thicker than ever. Worming her way to the front of the crowd, Sadie took a deep breath, then darted forward. “There’s a line!” Someone chirped unhappily. Sadie flinched, ducked her head apologetically and kept going. “You okay…?” Savannah began to ask, catching sight of her. “I want to play.” Sadie blurted, hoping she didn’t look too frightened. At this Savannah grinned, caught between surprise and glee. “There we go,” she said, wrapping Sadie tight and pulling her over to the table. “Next game is doubles!” There were more rules to beer pong than Sadie had expected, Savannah enlightening her as needed. No shouting to distract an opponent. No jostling the table. No bouncing the ball off of the table. If you missed you drank. If your opponent sank a shot you drank. First side to run empty lost. The world world seemed to shrink in around the table, a contained bubble of noise and light and beer fizz. Lane had come to watch and Sadie flashed him a look. Who couldn’t play beer pong? Right. She threw and missed. Each drink she took came with an appreciative roar from the crowd and a kiss on the cheek from Savannah. Sadie vibrated with nerves and embarrassment and…was that happiness? Was she having fun? Was this what parties were meant to be like? And suddenly it was over, Savannah stepping back from the table with a rueful shake of her head and both middle fingers raised to their jeering opponents. “Luck,” she declared. “Pure luck!” “We lost?” Sadie asked, barely suppressing a hiccup. Stepping away from the table, the ground seemed to sway alarming beneath her and she stumbled against Savannah. The coyote all but carried her through the crowd. “Lightweight over here,” she said with a smile. “A few little drinks and you’re completely smashed.” “Sorry…” Sadie mumbled. She knew that Savannah was only teasing, but the game hadn’t gone at all how she’d hoped. Instead of victory, she had broken Savannah’s winning streak, gotten even drunker in the process and that brief moment of certainty she’d felt at the table now seemed wholly false. “…I was trying to impress you. I’m not good at any of this.” For a moment Savannah looked genuinely caught off guard, an awkward uncertainty creasing her brow, then the coyote leaned close and Sadie felt the soft press of her friend’s lips upon her forehead. “Poor kitty.” Savannah sighed, hugging her close, pressing Sadie’s nose into the soft white fluff between her breasts. Sadie trembled, a tiny purr rumbling loose. She suddenly felt very warm, a pinkish tingly heat gathering between her legs. “It might be my fault,” came a voice. Lane. Ugh. “I told her to go play with you.” He’d…? Well. Still, Sadie feebly shook her head. “You shouldn’t mess with her.” Said Sadie, flashing her twin a disapproving look. Sadie shivered, caught between embarrassment and an unashamed burst of arousal at just how calmly authoritative Savannah now sounded. It felt nice to be held close like this, as though she might fall to pieces if left on her own. And wouldn’t she? Lane clicked his tongue, contemplating, then offered an amiable shrug. He handed her cup of beer back. Sadie accepted it only reluctantly. “Never hurts to try new things.” He said. Sadie took a breath, trying to gather her thoughts and form them into something succinct, a summation of her worries, an apology for how nervous and shy she was being. Yet, all she could picture in her mind’s eye was the coyote having fun with her other friends. The ones who looked at her with more confusion than combradiery whenever Savannah brought her around. It felt absurd to attach real consequences to the outcome of a game of beer-pong, but Sadie’s stomach still clenched and the edges of her vision seemed to constrict inwards. “Little scaredy-cat,” Savannah teased, stroking her gently behind the ears. Sadie squirmed, a trembly little purr leaking from between her teeth. “Maybe parties just aren’t your thing, huh?” Sadie blinked, suddenly stricken. She tossed back the rest of her beer, sour and lukewarm, then produced a grimacing smile. “No, no, I’m…” The beer roiled unpleasantly enough in her stomach that she had to pause and ride out a sickly twirl of dizzy nausea. The world spun alarmingly. Savannah’s smile had become pitying. It looked a great deal like Lane’s, though at least her eyes were sincere. She took the empty plastic cup and tossed it aside, then wrapped an arm reassuringly around Sadie’s shoulders. “You need a breather,” she announced, her tone allowing for no disagreement, then tipped her head at Lane. “Come on, help me get this kitty upstairs.” Lane? Sadie wanted to insist that she could handle the stairs on her own, but this was probably not true. The longer she remained on her feet the drunker she felt. The whole game of beer-pong had flashed by so rapidly that she couldn’t remember how much she’d drank. Definitely too much for an inexperienced little lynx. Lane strolled over, making a show out of his reluctance to help, and Sadie unhappily allowed the coyote to take her other arm. In this way, sandwiched between the twins, she was borne up the stairs and down a hallway. They were going to the library, Sadie realized. Once again there came a paranoid insistence that this was a bad idea, but then her eyes landed upon Savannah and she felt better. It was at least quieter on the second floor. No booze or games up here, so the only people were those who wanted to use the spare bedrooms. Muffled noises leaking through certain doorways, groans and panting, the squeak of springs. Sadie glanced through one and caught a brief, startling flash of Rebecca straddling her perky rabbit friend, mercilessly riding him into the mattress. The doe’s head was thrown back and her ears were flared out to the sides, her moans sharp and needy. Sadie glanced away, blushing through her fur. Savannah giggled and nudged the door shut with one foot, flashing Lane an amused look. The library was at the end of the hall, through a pair of double doors. It was smaller than Sadie had expected, cozy and warmly lit, every wall paneled floor to ceiling with bookshelves and the floor covered with plush red carpeting. Savannah set her down on a velvet sedan at the back of the room. Sadie slumped, feeling at once exhausted and relieved. The library was an oasis of calm, safely removed from the anarchic chaos of the party. She looked to Savannah and smiled wanly. “Thanks…” The coyote kissed her between the ears, smiled at the purr which resulted, then straightened back up and stretched her arms overhead, her shirt lifting enough to expose a stretch of flat, tawny furred coyote belly. A startling little flicker of arousal jangled through Sadie at the sight and she could not help but want to lean forward and press her nose against the soft puff of fur which poked over the hem of her friend’s jeans. Jeez…she really was drunk. Did booze make her horny or was this just the natural result of being around Savannah? A far-fetched scenario flashed to mind, Savannah dismissing Lane with a desultory flick of one finger, the library’s double doors closing and the coyote coming to join her on the sedan, where their lips met and… Savannah’s phone buzzed and she giggled at whatever was on the screen. “You don’t mind chilling up here for a bit, do you? There’s, uh,” Savannah made a gesture which Sadie supposed was meant to encompass the party below. “I’ve been looking forward to this forever, y’know?” Sadie blinked, disappointment and worry conspiring to stand patches of her fur upright, then managed to smooth a little smile onto her face. She’d already inconvenienced Savannah enough tonight that, even if she really wanted the coyote to stay… “I-I’m fine.” She stammered. Savannah pecked her on the forehead again, then clicked her fingers and turned to face Lane. “Keep an eye on her, alright?” Sadie straightened, dismay welling within her. Lane opened his mouth to speak, perhaps to protest, but Savannah was already halfway out the door. “It’s your fault she’s blitzed, you can babysit.” Savannah sang, then the doors banged shut and the library was quiet once more. Lane sniffed, seeming halfway amused. He looked at her. Sadie sank back down, shoulders hunched and stomach sour. She felt badly out of sorts, vaguely ill and dizzy, her thoughts befuddled and still a stubborn flicker of deluded warmth prickling through her, drawing heat and hope from the lingering phantom sensation of Savannah’s lips on her forehead. She collapsed fully back on the sedan, pressed both paws over her face and groaned, not even caring if Lane saw the depths of her unhappiness. It wasn’t like things could get any worse. As though he’d heard this last thought and was eager to prove her wrong, the coyote stepped over. Sadie could hear him padding across the carpet. She resisted an urge to peek between her fingers, even when she felt the sedan shift a bit, Lane settling at its other end. “You’re really down bad for my sister, aren’t you?” The coyote asked, his question so casual that it took Sadie a moment even to register what had been said. She shivered, the fur on her nubby tail springing up straight, but could not summon the strength even to sit up and admonish Lane. What would be the point? Any sort of denial would sound like a lie. Lane listened to the uneasy noise of her breathing, then laughed to himself. “And yet…you didn’t even try to make her stay,” he continued. “I bet she would’ve let you eat her out if you’d asked. She does like to experiment sometimes.” Sadie lay very still, hating the embarrassed warmth that reddened the insides of her ears. Lane was still speaking, offering casual asides. He’d seen Savannah kiss a girl at another party once, he’d heard rumors about drunken flings. But those had been with exciting girls, not meek little kittens who dripped into helpless, mewling puddles after a little booze and a lackluster game of beer-pong. “Maybe you were hoping she’d take the lead? Make you earn your place with her?” Lane asked, and this was so weirdly similar to a thought she’d had at the start of the evening that Sadie flinched and then could not suppress a tiny, self-hating mew at having once again given herself away. Goddamnit… He laughed, then Sadie felt the weight of a paw on her knee. She opened her eyes, caught off guard. Lane had slid closer, practically on top of her. She shrank away, or tried to, but could manage only a clumsy sort of wiggle that jammed her up against the far side of the sedan. Velvet hissed against the fabric of her shirt. Still inside out… “Stop.” Sadie tried to growl, produced a feeble mew instead and began for the first time to feel frightened. Her thoughts were like cold treacle, it was hard to focus on any one thing and the mere idea of trying to scramble away (or move quickly at all) made her head spin and the world swoop intolerably around her. “Savannah will be back any second.” She tried again, the words coming as a mumble. Why was her tone so calm? It sounded more like she was offering advice than sounding a warning. Her heart had begun to beat faster and the sickly feeling in her stomach was back. She drew her legs up against her chest, realizing too late that she was only giving Lane more room to get fully up on the sedan. The coyote moved with practiced ease, no hurry or even much force to his actions. His paws slid up to her knees and pressed her legs open. Sadie squirmed and mewed, a tiny noise, faint and unhappy. Somehow there was still more embarrassment than fear. Lane’s casual pace, the care he was taking not to physically harm her, seemed to remove a critical element of danger from the situation. Even his grip on her legs wasn’t so firm that it caused any pain. And yet, when she tried to wiggle away, to push her thighs back together, she could not manage it. “Nice panties.” The coyote said with a sharp toothed smile, then slid a paw up along the inside of her thigh, keeping her leg braced open with one knee. He was breathing a little harder now and something about his scent had changed. Sadie was reminded of how the air felt just ahead of a storm—the dry, heavy smell of ozone preceding a lightning strike. She shivered at Lane’s touch, the press of his fingers between her legs and then the sharp yank he gave, tearing thin cotton and snapping elastic. Her panties fell away from one leg and Lane tugged them over her other knee. Sadie shut her eyes and whimpered, paws balled tight against her chest. It occurred to her that she could lash out and scratch. She recalled snatches of self defense courses at school. Advice that she go for the eyes, kick and yell and attract attention. It all seemed very distant from her present vantage; paralyzed by alcohol, fear and a strange, lingering pall of embarrassment. She was bare now, exposed before him and unable to hide herself. Please stop, she nearly said, knowing that begging would do no good. Lane’s paws stroked up along the insides of her thighs and Sadie whimpered at the boldness of his touch, clever canine fingers spreading the lips of her pussy, letting him see just how soft, pink and vulnerable she truly was. Her heartbeat kept skipping and an unpleasant floaty dizziness set red-gold spots flickering across her vision. Was she about to faint? Was her heart going to stop? Every bit of Lane’s touch seemed bizarrely magnified, her whole body hyper-sensitive, nerves shrieking at the very idea of what he might be about to do to her. And still she couldn’t move a muscle, all of her locked tight, mutely trembling. Chilly prickles of static stung the back of her neck, where spotted feline fur rubbed against the velvet of the sedan. Lane’s eyes were bright, the coyote not worried or trepidatious in the least. Somehow this scared her even worse; the purposeful intensity. Probably he’d planned this. Been imagining her in exactly this position even as she sat unhappily in his lap on the way to the party. Suddenly Lane had his phone out. The shutter clicked. Finally, Sadie managed to resist. A little. She kicked out one leg, but the angle was hopelessly wrong and Lane only leaned in further and pressed her flat, his body overwhelming hers. His paws dove under her shirt and pushed it up, Sadie all but forced to cooperate in shedding the last of her clothes. She was like Savannah, very nearly flat, but still Lane managed to be gratuitous in groping her chest, pinching her perky pink nipples until they were hard. Tears blurred her vision, Sadie trying to look away, to pretend in some hopeless fashion that this was not happening to her. Still there was the hateful glare of the phone-camera, ensuring that all of this was immortalized. Probably the coyote was being careful to keep her face out of the shot, all distress and tears smoothed away. Just a slutty little lynx getting felt up at a party. “Cute.” Lane breathed. He leaned in, Sadie saw a white glint of teeth as he opened his mouth and was sudden, irrationally terrified that he was about to sink his teeth into her throat. Then, suddenly, his lips were on hers, a flat canine tongue forcing its way into her mouth, overwhelming hers with effortless male strength. And…it really was all so distinctly male, the bluntness and cruel obtusity, the quality of his scent and the press of a growing bulge against the inside of her thigh. “Mmph!” Sadie tried to shriek her outrage, a flutter of panic managing to shock her momentarily loose from her paralysis, but Lane was too heavy and strong, she too small and weak. It occurred to her that she could bite, but one of Lane’s paws had moved up to her neck now and she could feel the blunt prickle of claws through her fur. If she hurt him, even a little… The tremble at her center intensified, enough to collapse whatever defiance had been gathering, and Sadie slumped back with a miserable sob. Humiliation burnt red-hot at the backs of her eyes, seeming to force the tears out. A tremulous little ball of outraged shock lifted free from all else for a vivid instant. Her first kiss had been here? To him? Lane pushed against her, rolling his hips, and now Sadie felt his free paw fully between her legs, fingers stroking over her slit, thumb on her clit. It was a practiced gesture and she had no time to try and squirm away before a pair of fingers slid into her, more smoothly than she would have guessed. The sudden pressure, the odd fullness of penetration, entirely undid her legs and made her clench tight, a sort of awful choking feeling rippling through her whole body. She whimpered. Time seemed to flatten, the entire world beyond the sedan constricting to a red-gold blur. There was only the heavy, hateful presence of the coyote; his fingers pumping busily into her, given extra weight by the steady press of his hips behind them. The slick, searching probe of his tongue in her mouth and his lips against hers. For an errant moment Sadie was again struck by just how similar Lane seemed—in aspects—to Savannah, then was overcome by a shiver of horror and shame for even noticing something like that at such a moment. A sickly, heated tingle began to vibrate between her legs and Sadie realized that she was getting wet, a slick stroking sound coming from between her legs. Even the feeling of him working her clit, his thumb stroking patiently away at her sensitive little button, had begun to take on a distinct new dimension. Oh no. Goddamnit no! She tensed, animated by a new wave of panicked distress, and Lane pressed her back down with contemptuous ease. He laughed, squeezed her neck just hard enough to stop her breath for a shivery moment, then took his time to kiss her again, tongue pressing so hard against hers that Sadie nearly gagged. She could feel the warmth between her legs beginning to reach outwards, creeping into her middle and tensing the muscles there, making her nipples stand perked and newly sensitive. She noticed now, suddenly, the brush of Lane’s fur against hers. Just how warm he was. Some old fact from biology class popped, unprovoked, into her mind. Canines ran hotter than felines. Not that her miserable traitorous body wasn’t rushing to catch up. A little noise leapt from between her lips, mercifully muffled enough by the horrible kiss that she didn’t have to know for sure whether it was a sob or a moan. Impossible not to squirm, her legs twitching, heels skidding against velvet and her nubby tail helplessly twitching. She could feel rivulets of warm wetness soaking the fur between her legs. Finally, Lane broke the kiss. He was panting, tongue hanging from his mouth for one moment before he collected himself. All control and practiced cruelty a second later. “Guess you don’t like girls that much, huh?” He asked, pressing a little harder on her clit. Sadie jolted and produced another strangled noise, not quite a whimper, mercifully not a moan either. The insides of her ears were glowing red and she felt like she would burn up if Lane didn’t leave her alone right away. She could see, in the corner of her vision, her clothes lying crumpled, Lane’s shirt atop hers. Even the sight of the coyote’s clothes touching hers made her feel newly ill. And yet this sickness and dread, the humiliation and shame burning the back of her throat like acid, none of it removed even an iota of the horrible, ever-building heat which now crackled ominously across every fiber of her being. If she opened her mouth, tried to snarl or shout or even beg…all that would come out now was animalistic, feral little whimpers and groans and…and… She couldn’t bear to think about any of it. Sadie squeezed her eyes shut and hoped that if she simply lay there and gave Lane nothing to seize upon, the coyote might get bored and simply leave her alone. But of course she was still reacting; every unhappy twitch, each clump of fur which stood straight, and of course the uneven timbre of her breathing and the undeniable slickness between her legs. He laughed and, suddenly, his fingers were gone. Sadie shivered, simultaneous shocks of relief and trepidation racing through her. She opened her eyes before she could think not to, just in time to see Lane shove his pants down and kick them away. The coyote’s pointed canine shaft bounced free, red and intimidatingly thick, drooling clear beads of pre. A distressed mew escaped before she could think to tamp it down. Lane smiled at her, eyes bright and cruel. Sadie tried to close her thighs but the coyote was too quick and she was too shivery and weak. She capitulated with a mewl and whimpered at the crude, ugly press of his cock against the inside of her left thigh, perilously near to the soaked, velvety pinkness of her sex. His scent filled her nose, an earthy canine musk that made her feel lightheaded and somehow even smaller. All defiance and panic withered, replaced by a sort of helpless, horrified awe. What could she possibly do? This was going to happen to her. She would have to take all of this no matter how she struggled, begged or hissed. For a moment Sadie thought, even hoped, that she might be about to faint. Then the rubbery feeling of disconnect faded, replaced by the harsh immediacy of Lane’s cock pressed fully between her legs. A silky spurt of pre splashed the lips of her pussy, so hot it nearly stung. Sadie shivered, her tail twitched wildly, then the coyote pushed into her with a pair of hard, messy thrusts. Again his lips found hers and his tongue pressed in. The coyote let out a pleased breath into her mouth, forcing Sadie to take it, to know with every fiber of her being just how good it felt to conquer her. She stayed still, every bit of herself vibrating with an indefinable, awkward tension. The feeling between her legs, past the intolerable warmth, was one of flex and elastic, slowly yielding give. She waited uneasily for pain, an awful rip as the coyote broke past the internal limits of someone so much littler than him, but it somehow never came. Sadie couldn’t decide whether to be relieved or disappointed that this didn’t hurt. “Fuuck…” Lane sighed. His hips rolled hard against hers, hilting his entire length into her soaked cunt. Sadie felt a heavy press of his balls against the underside of her tail and was startled to realize that she had taken all of him. Except… His knot. She could feel a hint of it already, a slowly expanding bulb of hot canine potential at the base of his cock. Another biology factoid, male canines only showed their knots at the very end, when they were ready to tie and breed. That last word made her stomach churn and put an ugly, bleak fear into the back of her mind. Surely not. Not between a canine and a feline. Still, she could not be certain. What special attention had she ever paid to men before this? She expected Lane to rut her, to take her with such ferocity that she would break like an ill used toy, but the coyote was slow and patient. He seemed to like the incongruity between gentleness and rape, how each and every one of his thrusts made her twitch and mew. Every so often he broke the kiss to whisper little things into her ear. What a goody kitty she’d become, so much more interesting now that she was doing something useful. Did she know how tight her cunt was and just how hard she clenched on his cock each time he hilted into her? Sadie could only listen, eyes slitted and teeth tightly clenched…except for when Lane decided to force another kiss on her. The unwanted intimacy roiled her stomach and clenched every bit of her intolerably tight. She couldn’t make sense of it, except that Lane was doing this purely to hurt her. To snap her mind once and for all. In a perverse way, she was relieved when the coyote’s pace began to pick up. His breathing quickened and Sadie felt, with alarm, that his knot was swelling much faster now. Hot jets of pre splashed the insides of her cunt, matching almost perfectly the horrible, unwanted heat roiling inside of her. She felt like a kettle coming to a boil, fighting a losing battle against the very laws of nature and the world. Even now she entertained desperate, splintered hopes that perhaps Savannah might come in and save her. But for Savannah to see her like this… Fresh tears filled Sadie’s eyes. Her legs twitched all the more restlessly and when she tried to push them straight she felt, with real horror, the muscles of her thighs quiver and conspire to draw her legs up against Lane’s hips, as though she were about to lock him against her. As though she wanted him to have her. The coyote gasped, sinking himself into her again. Their noses bumped and for a moment they were eye to eye, Lane’s knot swollen just a little too much to fit into her. Sadie braced for another kiss, but her rapist only gasped his pleasure, eyes momentarily unfocused. He was close, she could see, a raw, lustful desperation to unload himself overcoming his poised cruelty, only serving to enhance the totality of his dominance. “I’ve wanted to do this for so long…” The coyote growled, panting into her ear. Pressed up against him like this, Sadie could feel his heart hammering. He was so warm, every bit of him. Impossible to get away, to ignore the throb of his cock inside of her and the prickly, static laden rub of his fur. Just a little coarser than hers, it entirely mussed her coat and undid another small part of her composure. Lane ground his hips against hers and Sadie felt, with irresistible, nightmarish force, her legs pull up and over, clasping tight around Lane. The coyote blinked, momentarily surprised, then laughed at the look of horror on her face and forced his mouth over hers, silencing the miserable, moaning whimpers which would otherwise have spilt out into the air. Sadie let her head fall back, too weak to manage even a scrap of conscious effort. Again the coyote pushed his thick knot against the slick entrance of her pussy and this time she felt her hips buck, as though physically buoyed by the irresistible immensity of the heat within her. Lane sank into her with a grunt and such a shiver of masterful satisfaction that Sadie felt herself jarred from head to tail. Like the time Savannah had dragged her to a concert in the city and stood her next to one of the big bass speakers. The whole of her very being now felt small and immaterial, at the mercy of something else. Someone else. The coyote bucked and thrust, short, ragged little pumps that sank the full girth of his knot even deeper into her sex. Sadie wanted to scream, to do something that might remove her from the horrible, hyperreal immediacy of the situation, but then the dam broke and she felt a shock of halfway electric sensation flood out from between her legs. It lifted the fur along her limbs and forced her to shiver and roll her hips against Lane’s yet again, some treasonous instinct demanding compliance with his mastery of her. A high, gasping moan left her lips, loud enough that she could hear it even over the harsh, heated panting of Lane’s breath. The coyote wrapped his arms tight around her and Sadie felt his balls draw tight in their fuzzy sac, his knot throb and a huge pulse of liquid warmth flood her womb. At once she felt overstuffed and so hot that it was as though she had stepped into a scalding bath. Her tail twitched desperately and her legs clasped ever tighter around the coyote’s hips, her moans coming in jagged little fragments of noise; unhappy and overwhelmed, miserable and entirely broken. A rime of dark spots clouded the edges of her vision. Lane snarled as he came, lips drawn back and sharp white teeth fully exposed. “Take it,” he growled. “Keep clenching on my knot.” Sadie shut her eyes, humiliated to hear the barest edge of a high, hysterical purr leak through her tightly clenched teeth. It felt as though every bit of her was vibrating, like a guitar string tuned far too tight, right on the verge of snapping. If he said anything more, if he kissed her or rubbed her clit or performed any new act of simulated intimacy that forced her to collaborate and grovel and submit, Sadie was suddenly sure she would go crazy. Her mind would shear in two. She would drop dead. A dark, bleak want emerged on the tail of that last thought. Better oblivion than having to live with this for even a moment longer. Slowly Lane relaxed, still holding her close. Sadie could feel the warmth of his breath against the side of her neck. Slowly, shivering, she undid her legs and let them fall open, the muscles at the insides of her thighs aching. Now that the immediacy of her unwanted climax was past, pain seeped in. Everything ached. Something about the hurt made her feel a little better. Lane did not say anything or try to kiss her. Her mind stayed just about intact and she did not drop dead. Her thoughts were fragmentary and distant, forming a constellatory and loosely connected web around the fringes of the dark, terrible immensity of what had just happened. She could not bear to think about it, could not even acknowledge anything beyond what the immediate physical reality of her situation forced her to. Any attempt would lead straight into hysteria and collapse. She ground her teeth and failed to blink back tears. They came in a steady, unhurried patter. It seemed like a very long time before Lane finally sat up. Sadie had just enough time to feel a moment’s relief before the coyote rolled over, still holding her tight, and forced her to sit on his lap. She sank down more fully onto his knot, a strangled, miserable whimper shooting from between her teeth before she could master it. Sadie sagged forward and collapsed against the coyote’s chest, her nose buried in coarse brindle fur. Lane snickered. He’d leaned casually back, legs open, forcing her to lean up against him if she didn’t want to fall backwards. His cock was still throbbing, delivering a last few spurts of slick canine seed into her overstuffed sex. Sadie could feel thin rivulets of sticky warmth beginning to wet the insides of her thighs. Lane stroked his paws up her thighs and over her hips. Though Sadie tried to cringe away, there was nowhere for her to go. Lane casually groped her ass and played with the twitchy nub of her tail, then stroked one finger up through the fluff of her stomach and between her perky breasts. He could feel the anxious thrum of her heart, hummingbird fast. Again she began to feel woozy and hoped that she might faint and be removed, however temporarily, from all of this. No such luck. “A real shame, trying to be a lesbian when you’re so good at taking cock.” The coyote said. He was trying to sound casual but the grin he wore was too sharp to let the words be anything other than nakedly sadistic. Sadie stared off to the side, lower lip trembling, vision blurred with tears. “You had fun, admit it,” Lane continued to prod. He stroked both paws up her sides, ruffling the fur there before smoothing it back down. A huge effort not to jolt away from his touch. Fondly, the coyote slid one paw over her midriff (flat stomach ever so slightly rounded by his knot and the sheer quantity of seed he’d pumped into her). He smiled. “No point lying to yourself. I felt you cum when I bred you.” Sadie ground her teeth and forced herself to remain silent, to keep looking away as though she couldn’t hear her rapist’s taunting. It didn’t matter that they were alone or that the coyote’s phone had gone away, his words still felt like physical blows. The fragments of her thoughts were beginning to knit together and they brought with them swathes of the dark and razor sharp fragments of memory; the heat of Lane’s tongue as it pressed against hers and the way her legs had clasped tight around his hips, helping him to knot her. It had all been feral instinct, she insisted. A distant stranger, of no relation to her present self. The coyote’s smile grew sharper. He could see the doubt on her face. The fear. “Admit it.” Lane repeated, and it was only when he began idly rubbing one thumb in semi-circles over her abused oh-so-sensitive clit that she squirmed and whimpered and collapsed once more into his control. Sadie had to brace herself against the coyote’s chest, thighs quivering and the whole of her sex clenched vice-tight around his slowly softening knot. Her thoughts were splintery, only vague threads of coherence emerging from a greater fog of fear and humiliation. She knew what the coyote wanted her to say. To admit, as he’d put it. And…would it be so bad to say some embarrassing words if it meant he’d be satisfied and maybe end this whole thing? Still, some deeper element of stubbornness froze her tongue. Sadie shivered and sniffed back tears and hated that, when Lane tucked a pair of fingers under her chin and lifted her gaze to meet his, she could not summon even a hint of defiance. Her gaze was teary and frightened, evasive. “Lane, please…” She tried to say (to beg), but the coyote only rolled his eyes and bucked his hips, forcing her to grind against his knot. Sadie found her words cut off by a fizz of excruciating pleasure, leftover heat rising like smoke to cloud her brain. A thread of saliva ran from one corner of her mouth, though she could only be vaguely embarrassed by this. The coyote stroked her behind the ears and she felt a sharp, tingly pinch of canine teeth at the side of her neck for a moment, then the warm, bizarrely gentle press of lips at her throat. He was being ‘kind’ again, all of the poison locked away behind glass where she could see it but not be physically marked by the worst effects. Please, she tried again but could manage nothing more than an airy whimper. Her eyes were unfocused and dual images of Lane danced back and forth before her, his eyes twinned and his grin a kaleidoscopic glimmer of teeth and cruel desire. And quite suddenly she broke. Sadie couldn’t identify a single moment where the final shreds of her defiance fell away, only that she was suddenly whimpering little fragments of words into Lane’s chest, wetting his fur with her tears and begging that he take his paws away before the ugly warmth came back and ripped another orgasm out of her. The coyote’s paws framed her face, Sadie’s gaze lifted to meet Lane’s. “Again.” He said calmly. “I-I l…l-l-liked…” She burst into tears and her vision disintegrated into a dark, muddy glow of red and brindle. God, her legs were still jittering and her hips would not stop attempting fragmentary little jerks and bucks in time with Lane’s movements, each time the coyote shifted under her. She could feel warm rivulets of canine seed drooling down the insides of her thighs, soaking the base of her tail. His knot was softening, some of the warm, immense fullness inside of her beginning to ease. Whatever relief she ought to have felt from that was distant and abstract, she could not get her mind to cohere around the idea that this would ever end. “Too cute,” Lane snickered. “How about this. Kiss me and I’ll take you to get cleaned up.” Sadie blinked, momentarily shocked back to something resembling clarity. A swirl of dread in the pit of her stomach, accompanied by a fervent wish that she’d just said the damned words to begin with. Said she loved his cock or whatever Lane wanted. Anything to get away. Unless he’d have made her do this anyway. She squeezed her eyes shut and managed a three count. It didn’t make her feel any better, but at least the worst of the hitches were smoothed out from her breathing. No longer such an incredible urge to curl into a ball and sob. Sadie braced her paws gingerly against Lane’s chest, trembling, her whiskers askew. He wouldn’t just want a quick peck on the lips, no mere token of submission. She tried to tell herself that she’d endured his attentions before, but those had been forced on her. This time… She leaned in before her thoughts could spiral any further, ears pinned back and whiskers askew. Lane blinked, halfway surprised by the speed of her capitulation, then their lips met and Sadie felt her teeth jar against the coyote’s for an awkward moment, her lower lip pinched by a sharp canine fang. Immediately she felt an urge to pull back, to fling herself away as though she’d just touched something red-hot. It flared bright for an instant, then fizzled abruptly to nothingness, a curl of ash amidst all the other wreckage cluttering the floor of her mind. More weakness and fear kept her where she was than an earnest consideration of the consequences. Within her mind, the empty space where defiance had been now filled with a low, cold swirl of self hatred and shame. That Lane was clearly enjoying the awkward stiffness of her efforts only made it worse. “Purse your lips more,” the coyote said, breaking from her for a moment. Sadie couldn’t even begin to feel relieved, not when Lane pinched the sides of her mouth and forced her lips to take the form he wanted. “…Like that. C’mon, you gotta know how to do this if you’re ever gonna pluck up the courage to go after my sister. Or are you totally converted to cock now?” Sadie flinched down, paws balled into tight little fists against Lane’s chest, too ashamed at her own miserable meekness even to contemplate talking back. She hesitated for a long moment, mind buzzing with vacant, helpless loops of frightened non-thought, then she saw Lane’s smile begin to slip and recapitulated before the coyote could grow annoyed. Though it made her want to start sobbing again, she pursed her lips as he’d asked her to do and this time their teeth didn’t click together and it was startlingly easy, natural almost, for their tongues to meet and for her to press Lane’s back. She pushed against him, eyes tightly shut, trying to pretend that this was just a game. Some unpleasant exercise that had to be endured. That it was all so warm and wet, that it came with gasps of breath and the searching press of wandering paws, Lane slowly grinding the full length of his softening cock into her snug, seed slicked sex… It was only when her breath began to quicken that Sadie pulled abruptly back, so suddenly that she nearly overbalanced and fell backwards off of her rapist’s lap. Lane stayed where he was, fur mussed and whiskers in disarray. The coyote grinned at the look of naked horror on her face, the warm, pink shame that reddened the insides of her tufted ears. “I think I’m almost soft enough to pull out.” Lane said casually. He didn’t need to dwell on what had just happened, it was all too apparent for the both of them. Sadie closed her eyes when Lane flipped her onto her back and did all she could to relax as he gingerly tested his knot. Slow, warm rivulets of coyote seed drooled out from around the edges of his tie, staining the velvet sedan and soaking Sadie’s fur. Her legs kept twitching and when she tried to clasp her paws over her mouth to stifle the noises that came leaping out, Lane took her wrists and shook his head. It took him some time to pull out, his knot slipping out of her with a wet pop and a warm trickle of cum. He was still taking care not to leave any physical marks on her, nothing that couldn’t be explained away as a consensual encounter. Sadie could feel the gaps in her thoughts beginning to fill in, more elaborate and dreadful chains of logic now becoming apparent. She shivered at the sudden feeling of emptiness between her legs, the unpleasant stickiness of cooling cum as it clung to her fur. The velvet of the sedan was spattered dark and wet. Sadie imagined Savannah seeing this and was overcome by a new swell of shame. “I’ll tell her what you did.” She said, the words leaping free before she could truly consider them. Lane glanced down at her. The expression on his face didn’t change. “Clean me off.” The coyote said in lieu of a response, then took her by the scruff of the neck even before Said could contemplate trying to turn away. She went with a weak mewl, pulled down onto the carpet where she puddled onto her knees, still dripping cum. The insides of her thighs felt entirely stained, every bit of her used and broken. Her lips still tingled and the muscles at her center were beginning to complain again. Lane’s knot had begun to shrink, but his shaft was still mostly erect, red and gleaming, wet with her juices and pale streaks of seed. He tapped her firmly on the nose with it, grinding the scent of his conquest into her fur. Whatever frightened burst of faux-defiance had arisen, it now quailed once again. Sadie opened her mouth and Lane pushed in, filling her muzzle. Sadie squirmed, overcome by an unfamiliar sensation and the intensity both of Lane’s scent and the taste of what he had done to her. She gagged, the pointed tip of his cock touching the back of her throat, and Sadie was surprised when Lane pulled back just a bit. Enough to keep her in discomfort, with tears welling at the corners of her eyes, but not so much that conscious thought fled. He wanted her aware and ‘willing,’ collaborating in her own destruction every step of the way. The coyote stroked her behind the ears as she worked, offering little compliments and pointers. Pay attention to the knot and curl her lips over her teeth to prevent any unpleasant pokes or scrapes (Sadie dutifully obeyed, knowing even as she did that this was surely a precursor for worse things in the future). What a good kitty she was being. It was almost a relief when she got to his balls. No thick, ominously throbbing shaft to deal with, nothing to do with her lips or her throat. She licked and joylessly kissed, taking each heavy globe into her mouth when Lane commanded and doing all she could to ignore the pleased sigh of his breathing and the press of his paws at the sides of her head. Finally, what seemed like an eternity later, the coyote let her go and stepped away to dress. When Sadie tried to follow suit, Lane’s foot came down on her shirt. She shivered, unable to look up at him. “They’ll get stained if you put them on now,” the coyote said, casually scooping up her discarded clothes. “Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.” Sadie hesitated, eyes settling on the library door. Did he really mean…? She looked at Lane now, such an expression of horror and silent pleading on her face that the coyote laughed. He rested one paw on the door knob and, right away, Sadie knew there were only two options. Go with Lane, play more sick coyote games but eventually get her clothes back (maybe, hopefully…), or linger in the library naked and cum stained until someone else came in and saw her. Took more pictures, maybe. Worse. Sadie began to stand, but Lane shook his head, smile turning sharp and nasty. “Kitties don’t walk,” he chided her. “Kitties crawl.” She ground her teeth, stomach knotted tight, then returned to her knees and obediently crawled to Lane’s side. Silently, Sadie prayed that the hallway would be empty. She cringed down when Lane opened the door, fear raising the fur along her spine as though she were about to be struck by lightning. And, mercifully, the hallway was barren but for a few scattered red plastic cups and a singular heap of crumpled clothing lying propped into the dark gap left by a half-open door. Sadie’s gaze fell upon them but already Lane was looking at her, a crooked little smile at one corner of his mouth and absolute darkness in his eyes. If she even tried to touch those clothes, she would be sorry. Muffled noises came from some of the rooms lining the hallway; the squeak of springs, faint laughter and moaning. Sadie’s fur slowly began to prickle upright at the idea of what might happen if even one of those people decided to come out. Lane shut the library doors behind them and started off at a gentle stroll. Sadie wanted to go faster, but found that it was a struggle even keeping up with the coyote. Her thighs ached and the carpet burned her knees. They passed the clothes and the half-open doorway they marked, Sadie cringing with her head lowered and her face averted. A flash of darkness, with shadowy figures moving within, the busy squeak of bedsprings and high, rapid little moans as someone was pounded. Had anyone passing the library doors heard Lane’s assault on her? Had they assumed it was just another spasm of spontaneous, drunken fun? Sadie shivered, feeling newly ill. Party noise leaked through the floor from below; music cranked too loud, peals of laughter and the crash of what sounded like a table being overturned. Maybe someone had just lost at beer-pong. Savannah was down there somewhere, oblivious to all that was happening just over her head. A brief desire to scream for help flickered to life at the back of her mind. Savannah would surely hear it and come to rescue her. But then what? The coyote would see her like this, broken and used, utterly ruined in every possible way. Perhaps Lane would face consequences, but then everyone would know what he’d done to her, what she’d been too meek and frightened to stop. It was only when Lane suddenly came to a halt that Sadie snapped from her thoughts and looked to the hallway ahead. Ahead of them, startlingly close, the bathroom door was swinging open. Sadie thought of making a wild grab for her clothes and fleeing, but there was no time and a huge swell of panic froze her where she knelt. The coyote’s ears had pinned back and he looked, for the first time, to have been caught completely flatfooted. Pale curls of steam leaked from the bathroom and out stepped Rebecca, the doe’s fur spiky with moisture and her hair somewhat askew. Her skirt was crooked and she swayed slightly as she stepped out into the hallway, still in the middle of putting one earring in. She caught sight of them, blinked hard, and then cocked her head. “Oh.” Said the deer, a surprised little smile arcing across her face. Sadie cowered low, ears tightly pinned and a haze of static descending across her vision. Once again she felt momentarily certain she would swoon. Once again some inner element denied her even this tiny relief. On some level she knew that she ought to cry out for help. It would be easy, even a plaintive look, a wordless cry to signal distress. And yet she sat mute and trembling upon the hallway floor, claws digging into the floorboards and her whiskers askew. Rebecca was staring at her, the doe’s big round eyes taking in the mussed state of her fur and the pale streaks of cum which marked the insides of her thighs. Then she laughed. “Oh jeez,” Rebecca said again, then whistled through her teeth. Her smile had broadened into an amused grin. “It’s never the people you expect, is it?” Sadie blinked, caught entirely off guard. Her ears had splayed out to the sides and it felt nearly as though she’d just received a light electrical shock. She was distracted by the sudden stroke of Lane’s fingers across one side of her head, the coyote’s touch gentle but undeniably possessive. She was too stunned even to flinch, a great internal cataclysm of mingled horror and astonishment conspiring to freeze her solid. “This is her first time,” said Lane. The coyote had recovered his usual casual demeanor with incredible speed. “Nobody was supposed to see.” Sadie stared hard at the floor, enduring the amused pressure of the doe’s gaze. It was occurring to her now that Rebecca clearly interpreted the fright and horror on her face as simple embarrassment, the shyness of a repressed and very kinky little lynx who had just gotten caught doing something naughty. She trembled mutely, eyes fixed upon the floor just in front of her paws. Again she thought about crying out for help, but now it was surely too late. It would read as blind panic rather than genuine distress, or…so the paranoid little voices in the back of her mind insisted. “My lips are sealed,” the doe said with humble good grace, eyes aglow and her little white tail twitching back and forth like a signal flag. Again Sadie felt the doe’s gaze stroke over her body. “Gotta say, kitty, you’re a lot more fun now that school’s out…” At this Sadie glanced up, startled from her thoughts yet again. The feel of the moment had taken on a surreal quality. Her stomach clenched and she felt a bizarre tingle of warmth gather in her center. Her ears fluttered wildly and when Rebecca mussed the fur between her ears with one hoof, Sadie heard a sharp, halfway hysterical little purr rumble out into the open air. Then she genuinely did collapse, swooning against Lane’s leg, every bit of her disjointed and helplessly trembling, thoughts and wants fallen to atoms. Was she crying? Probably not, for Rebecca was still smiling and Lane didn’t seem worried. “Call me sometime,” the doe said, stepping past them. The insides of her ears glowed a gentle pink and her tail was still swishing busily away. “We’ll hang out.” Sadie couldn’t tell whether the doe had been talking to her, Lane or both of them. Nor could she dwell on the possible consequences. Lane nudged her back onto all fours and guided her into the bathroom, tile warm beneath her paws and gentle swirls of lavender scented steam still hanging in the air. The coyote shut the door behind them, locked it and let out a tiny, relieved breath. A moment later he was teasing again, stroking behind Sadie’s ears and complimenting her silence. What a good girl she’d been in the hallway. “I always thought Rebecca was kind of a ditz, but she figured you out right away,” the coyote said. “And if even she knows what you are…” He left the rest unsaid. Sadie vibrated with silent shame, tears welling in the corners of her eyes. It was beginning to sink in just how inescapable the nightmare had become. Other people knew now, and that gave Lane’s fiction additional strength. Sadie couldn’t bear to figure the odds of Rebecca actually keeping quiet. Probably she wouldn’t. Probably Lane didn’t even want her to. The coyote smiled at her mounting distress, kissed her on the tip of the nose and went to start the shower. Sadie didn’t resist when he put her under the warm spray and only shut her eyes when the coyote stripped and came in to join her. “You said you’d give my clothes back…” Sadie mumbled, shivering at the touch of Lane’s paws on her hips. “Once you’re cleaned up.” The coyote answered. He sorted through the bottles of shampoo and body wash until he found something to his liking. Lavender. Sadie let him clean her off, trapping the little whimpers where they rose whenever Lane’s paws strayed somewhere sensitive. He took his time, shamelessly groping her, paws traveling slowly from point to erogenous point as though he were committing every bit of her to memory, and staining her very soul with the unwanted sureness of his touch. Though she made no noise, Sadie knew that she was betraying herself in other ways. The coyote could feel the way she tensed when he traced a finger over the sensitive perky pinkness of her nipples and even past the shower’s spray he could surely detect just how horribly wet her pussy was. She kept her eyes shut through all of this, flinching at the less tolerable of Lane’s gropes and the press of his lips upon her chest and on the sides of her neck, hating the gradual quickening of her breath as he toyed and teased and forced an ugly, intolerable heat back between her legs. Silent tears added themselves invisibly to the shower’s spray. He was getting hard, she could feel the firmness of his sheath against her and then the slick, hot press of his shaft as he rubbed it slowly against her stomach. Beneath the scent of lavender she could smell his arousal, the earthy heated musk of him and, beyond that, the crackly evil dead-air-before-a-lighting-strike promise of what he was going to do to her. It was only when Lane pressed her against the back wall of the shower and hoisted her legs, pinning her there against the warm, wet tile, that Sadie opened her eyes. She shivered, hating just how close this position forced her to her rapist, how she was obliged to keep her legs wide open, the fear of falling continually demanding that she clasp them tight around the coyote’s hips (an unpleasantly tactile flash of sensation accompanied this thought, how she’d gripped onto Lane as he knotted her, how her hips had bucked against his…). They were face to face, steam hazing the world beyond Lane, denying her any sort of distraction from the immediacy of her degradation. Sadie wanted to shut her eyes again, to pretend that she was in any way removed from this, but then the coyote positioned the pointed head of his cock between her legs and any sort of conscious thoughts fell to splinters. Sadie whimpered and whined, whiskers trembling and her sodden fur aching to stand upright. She could feel her nubby tail wildly twitching and the hardness of tile against her back. Nowhere for her to go. She kept her paws pressed flat against Lane’s shoulders, even though this did nothing to create any real distance between them, and had to work to keep her claws sheathed when the coyote hilted himself slowly into her. He let out a pleased breath and nipped her left ear. Sadie jolted, despite herself, and hated how this made her clench on the coyote’s length. Already her legs were trembling and her face felt intolerably warm. She could see her feet kicking impotently out into empty space, toes curled and trembling. It hurt, how obviously he was enjoying his dominion over her, bending her body to his will and treating her as a plaything. That she was, on any level at all, acquiescing to him, made her want to scream. And yet…when Lane kissed her and pressed his tongue into her mouth, the first thing Sade felt was resignation rather than the sharp horror that had transfixed her in the library. There was nothing she could do other than let the coyote have his way. He’d won. A shiver accompanied this realization, an urge to sob that manifested only as a choked half-whimper. The coyote hilted himself deep into her and broke the kiss, savoring the snug warmth of her cunt and the soft, yielding flexibility of her small feline frame. “Good girl.” He breathed, punctuating each new thrust with fresh praise for her obedience. The sting of Lane’s teeth at the side of her neck made her flinch. Made her clench. Suddenly his arms looped around her, he turned away from the wall of the shower and Sadie squirmed as she found herself being guided into a new position; sitting in the coyote’s lap, facing him, being made to ride his cock. She tried to hold herself up, legs trembling even with the simple effort of maintaining her own weight. Sadie half expected Lane to physically force her down, but of course the coyote didn’t lift a finger. “You can’t expect me t-to…” She whined, then the effort of holding herself up became too much and she sank down into her rapist’s lap, the full heated length of a throbbing coyote cock stretching her out yet again. She whimpered and sagged helplessly against Lane’s chest, nose buried in wet fur. The coyote groaned and rolled his hips against hers, making no pretense of just how good it felt. Sadie knew just enough of what was coming that she managed, barely, to smother a tiny purr. Some traitorous element of herself kept at bay for the moment. Lane didn’t bother to spell out his demands, they were obvious enough. Instead the coyote fondly stroked her, again making a sick pretense of gentle intimacy, and spoke into her ear. She was so tight and wet, practically made for this. How many other shy little kitties could say they were so good at taking a thick cock all the way to the knot? Not that she was so shy anymore. Sadie flinched at the touch of sharp canine teeth to her left ear, the coyote playfully nipping her. Even this feeling lanced straight down her spine and collaborated to intensify the awful heat boiling between her legs. Even as she tried to sit still, Sadie realized that she was still making minute movements, her legs twitching and her hips bucking and every one of the tiny muscles ringing her sex working to clench down upon the coyote’s eagerly throbbing cock. Even if she tried to sit still and do nothing, every bit of the situation was trending towards the same place. At some point the coyote would touch her in the wrong place and she would break and purr and whimper and whine and that would be it. There was no dignity to be had here, no way of making it through this without utterly debasing herself yet again. Even still, she hesitated for a moment. It had been one thing to kiss the coyote, to clean his cock and crawl on all fours with his seed leaking down her thighs. To ride him, to actively take his cock and make him cum… It would be quicker this way. Surely. Sadie sniffled and slowly, reluctantly, capitulated to her rapist’s demand. It was awkward doing this, she had to brace her paws against Lane’s chest, face burning and her rhythm off-kilter. She caught a glimpse of the coyote’s smile, pleased and utterly unsurprised, then shut her eyes. No way to hide a whimper when she felt Lane’s hips meet hers, the coyote making little thrusts to meet hers, gently correcting her amateur efforts and setting her to a more proper cadence. Doing this made her feel warm, at least beyond the crushing pall of guilt and shame. They were wreathed in steam and at least the rush of the shower hid some of the quieter groans, whimpers and moans which leaked through her tightly gritted teeth. Not that Lane didn’t still hear, and of course she could never have hidden the way her pussy clenched on him at the height of each thrust, how her legs sometimes undid themselves and made her, however involuntarily, grind down upon his length. Her breath came in ragged gasps and though Sadie knew she was crying, the shower made her tears invisible and whatever distress was on her face kept being contorted by hateful spasms of unwanted pleasure and the sting of the coyote’s teeth at her neck. Then his lips were on hers and she moaned into his mouth before she could possibly think not to. I hate you, she wanted to say, to strike him dead with the desperate quality of her fear and anger and guilt. I hate you I hate you I hate you… Then everything boiled within her and she came with a cry, vision doubling even as her legs came undone and she felt some inner part of her herself grind helplessly down upon Lane’s cock, inviting, practically begging for him to thrust and pound and tie her. The coyote held her close, fingertips stroking ticklishly through the fur between her shoulder blades. He leaned back, giving himself more leverage to thrust into her, but his pace was slow and unhurried. He took his time to undo her, to lick and kiss and grope. Sadie wanted to beg, to whine and to cry. No words came, only whines and moans and high, hysterical fragments of purrs that shook her middle and made her want to cry. He didn’t quite make her cum again, this at very least. The heat in between her legs had curdled to a low, dull ache, though she was still so sensitive that nearly everything made her clench, even so small a thing as the heat of the coyote’s breath on the side of her neck and the eager stroke of his paws up her sides and over her chest, and how he made her purse her lips when she could not make herself work out how to endure yet another terrible deep kiss. She wept with relief when he came, hilted so deep that when his knot swelled it was already inside of her and all Sadie had to do was squirm and whine at the feeling, drool leaking from one corner of her mouth and her eyes refusing to focus. The coyote sagged back against the wall and panted, eyes shut and paws gripped tight to her waist. Sadie sniffled miserably, her face pressed against Lane’s chest, nose baffled by wet fur. There was no strength within her, not to do anything. And, mercifully, Lane left her alone for a while, content to savor the afterglow. He knew that he’d broken her. The water in the shower was beginning to run lukewarm by the time he was soft enough to pull out. The coyote let out a low whistle, seemed to contemplate tormenting her for a moment, then washed her off instead. That was still bad enough, the merciless press of his fingers between her legs and over her body, eradicating every hint of what he’d done to her with soap and lavender scented bubbles. Sadie let him. Then she allowed herself to be pulled out of the shower. It surprised her that she could stand, legs rubbery and thighs on fire, her whole middle one deep ache. Yet she didn’t think that the coyote had actually hurt her, she couldn’t feel any stinging within her sex, no bruises or cuts. Nothing that would indicate that he had… Lane toweled her off, then tossed her clothes over. Sadie flinched, fumbled her shirt and skirt against her chest, and stared at the coyote. He smirked, amused by her incomprehension. “You did what I asked,” he said. “Good kitty.” Sadie shivered, made ill even by the simple utterance of those two words. Poisoned forever no doubt. She dressed, hating that her panties had been torn and that she was so exposed under her skirt, but…that suddenly seemed like a very small and inconsequential thing to worry about. Once again her thoughts had splintered, she could not bear to dwell on the immediate details of what had happened. At the same time, the whole evening felt so dark and horribly immense that she had difficulty deciding what life had been like before it. She’d come to the party because Savannah had asked. Savannah. Sadie tried to edge past Lane, but of course the coyote caught her by the arm. She trembled mutely, paws tightly balled and eyes fixed upon the floor. The coyote’s grip was firm but not painful. “Let’s go downstairs together,” he said, the words more an instruction than a proposal. “We’ll find my sister, then I’ll take you home.” Sadie blinked and waited for a tense moment before she realized that the coyote was waiting for her to agree. To promise that this was all that would happen. “Okay.” She mumbled. A tremor in her voice. Fear coiling coldly at the pit of her stomach. Little flashes of sensation crackling unpleasantly at the edges of her mind. How warm Lane was, the press of his flat canine tongue, the girth of his knot as it swelled inside of her… Fresh tears welled in her eyes. The coyote swiped them away. Sadie cowered, too frightened even to flinch from his touch. She expected Lane to tease, to insist that she’d had fun, but the coyote was only making sure that things looked right. He took her out into the hall, gauged the unsteady quality of her gait and seemed to find it acceptable. Down they went, into the heart of the party. Fewer people now, and those who remained were staggery and drunk. Sadie kept her eyes down and did not try to pull away from Lane. The coyote slipped easily through the crowd, one paw rested lightly on Sadie’s shoulder. A possessive edge to that gesture, a quiet hint of secret ownership. Sadie took a deep breath and tried to let it out slowly. No dice, she was trembling too badly. Nausea roiled at the pit of her stomach. She wanted to vomit, then to take another shower, to scrub every bit of herself that Lane had touched. Then she’d sleep, deep and dreamlessly. She wanted never to wake up. They passed Rebecca nearby to the beer pong table (or…there were two now, the game had metastasized). The doe spotted them and dropped such an incredibly blatant wink that Sadie felt momentarily certain that everyone would know what was happening. She cowered and could not contain a whimper, but this only succeeded in giving Lane an opportunity to slip his arm around her shoulder. No comfort this, only a reminder to stay in line and maintain the facade. Her distress must have read as simple embarrassment, for Rebecca laughed, noiseless within the cacophony of the party, and then turned back to whatever she’d been doing. They found Savannah in the front hall, chatting with a pair of raccoons. She was drunk, Sadie saw that right away, the coyote reeling in place, talking too loud and too slurred, her eyes just a bit out of focus. The raccoons were no better off and they were talking, practically shouting, over each other. Laughing. Having a grand old time. It seemed surreal to Sadie, so far removed from the circumstances of her own evening that it felt like watching something in a movie. Lane let her go and she sagged against the wall, arms wrapped tight around herself and teeth tightly clenched. There was panic welling up again, like oil spilling from a busted pipe. On some level she’d been hoping to say something to Savannah, or for the coyote to simply take one look at her and know that things were not right. Yet now, when Savannah saw Lane and saw her, she was all smiles and her tail began to wag. “Hey kitty,” the coyote said, weaving her way over. “You have a fun night? How you doing?” Simultaneous flares of warmth and desperate terror transfixed Sadie. It was all she could do not to look at Lane. Savannah was looking her over, eyes still unfocused and such a pleasant smile on her face that Sadie knew her friend suspected nothing. Savannah hadn’t even noticed that her fur was still damp from the shower, or that she was trembling with terror. What did her eyes look like, what was her face doing? “I’m fine.” Sadie managed. “Maybe a little too in…um…intense for you,” Savannah said, such sympathy in her voice that Sadie wanted simultaneously to hug the coyote and to melt right through the floor. “We’ll go to a smaller one next time. Not so loud.” “No beer pong.” Lane added. Savannah smiled and rolled her eyes as best she could. It was uncanny just how completely Lane managed to slip right back into normalcy, as though he really had just spent the evening keeping an eye on his sister’s drunk friend. Sadie stared at the floor. They made it to the hatchback without incident, the night air cool and fresh, poking chilly fingers down the back of Sadie’s neck. Lane drove. Sadie practically threw herself into the back with Savannah, huddling low as though she were being hunted. The coyote leaned against her as they began to drive and for a moment Sadie nearly felt relieved, comforted by Savannah’s closeness and warmth. The coyote’s fur, slightly coarser than hers, struck pale sparks of static. And… Sadie shivered. It was dark in the back of the car and suddenly all she could think of was the feel of Lane’s fur against hers, his weight and the grip of his paw, how it felt when he touched her and even the way he smelled and… The warmth and feeling of comfort in her center collapsed like a dying star and suddenly Sadie felt badly off balance, alone in a way she had never thought could be possible. Guilt welled up, shame and horror at herself for even being capable of such awful comparisons. Savannah and Lane were twins, sure, but there was no way that Savannah could be at all similar to…to… She stared straight down, into a patch of blackness so absolute that her eyes could not parse it. An urge to flinch when Savannah snuggled closer. The heat of her breath on Sadie’s neck suddenly felt like a threat. It took an incredible amount of effort not to shy away. Sadie ground her teeth. Now there were tears in her eyes, a prevailing sense of panic. “You smell nice.” Savannah mumbled, then slowly relaxed and began to snore. Sadie became aware, in the way that ancient prey detected the gaze of predators, that Lane was watching her. she could see his gaze reflected in the rearview mirror. She gritted her teeth and looked away, but not before her ears fluttered out to the sides. The coyote snickered and returned his attention to the road. At last they came to her building. Savannah woke, sort of, and managed a drunken goodbye when Sadie stepped out of the car. “Call me tomorrow, okay?” The coyote said, leaning out from the rear driver’s side window. Her shirt was even more badly askew, but it gave Sadie no comfort that she could see her friend’s breasts, even the pale glimmer of her nipple piercings. Incredible how a thing that would have overflowed her with butterflies even a few hours before now seemed strange and inert, as though it belonged to another world entirely. “I will.” Sadie promised. Her voice sounded wrong, sharp and panicky. If Savannah noticed she gave no sign. “Seriously,” she said. “This summer is gonna…gonna be…” “It’ll be fun,” Lane finished for her, flashing his sister an amused glance. Slowly, his attention returned to Sadie. In the dark his eyes seemed to glow and his fangs were lit phosphorescent by the streetlights, every bit of the coyote’s expression filled with terrible promise. “Long summer ahead of us. We’ll spend a lot of time together.” The hatchback pulled smoothly away and purred down the street. Sadie watched it go, feeling somehow uneasier the moment Lane was out of sight. She shuffled into her building, rode the elevator up to her apartment. Dark. Empty. Her parents were away. Numbness filled her for a moment, then dread and fear and such a sense of shame that she nearly collapsed onto the floor of the living room. She made it to the shower and scrubbed herself until the water ran cold, but even this could not erase the slowly gathering cloud of thoughts. Everything beginning to solidify now, memories acquiring permanence, no way to run from any of it. A long summer, Lane had said. Even as Sadie tried to insist to herself that it was over and she could get away from this, she knew that the trap had already closed and the worst was yet to come.