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Soft snores came from Rybecca's slightly parted maw as she slept, none of the anxiety and stress that plagued her during the day apparent on her face. She had gotten home from a stressful day at work and crashed, making a quick cucumber salad and collapsing in bed, leaving everything all a mess to be cleaned up the next day: counters, knives left out, little shavings of cucumber... Work had sapped too much out of her for any care to be present in her mind. The bed she fell asleep in was her sweet, sweet oasis from all that.

City noises drifted in from outside, the irregular honks and toots of angry drivers that could always be heard no matter where she was, droning sirens as police cars and ambulances drove by- it seemed there was always something happening here. Earlier in the day, there had been a standoff with police, a panther holding some apartment complex hostage for a few hours. In the end, he had disappeared into the night, hopefully never to be seen again. Not that Rybecca had seen any of this on the news, she had been too busy catering to her boss' every whim, making coffee and copies. Just another day for her.

The creak of the front door opening brought her out of her sleep enough to sit up and cast lazy glances around the room, unsure if she had dreamt the noise or whether it was real. When she heard the wooden door shut, she was brought fully into reality. Memories jumped into her mind, snippets of the last conversation she'd had with her ex before he'd left- well, while he left. She brought a paw up to her face, expecting to feel the bruise his last punch had left, though it was long gone. He'd swung at her and stormed out, alcohol thick on his breath like it normally was, pausing in the doorway only to turn around and cast one final jab and sneer at her. "Wouldn't expect a lazy slut to ever fix this door anyways. Been squeaking like your jabbering ass ever since I moved in. Fucking bitch."

The wooden floor of her living room squeaked with a sudden pawstep, ripping her out of the past and back into her bedroom, sitting stock-still in bed, eyes dilated with fear. Someone was certainly in her house- but why? Her mind ran through a quick list of people that would have any reason to break in: her ex, her parents... her boss, even. Fuck. After a crazed moment's thinking, she realised that it didn't really matter. She needed to do something, get out of her room and make her presence known. But... on the other paw, maybe the intruder was just there to grab a couple things from the living room, make a quick hundred at the pawn shops that dotted the city, many of which would buy goods without a second thought. Her bed seemed awfully safe compared to the shadowy depths of her hallway....

Shaking her head, Rybecca rolled the covers off of her, the light pink of her glowing rings serving to light up her bedroom faintly. Every beat of her heart was loud enough to wake her neighbours in her mind, every scratch of the sheets on her mattress deafening. Nonetheless, she stepped out of bed, making sure not to put her footpaw down on the wooden panel right beside her bed, she remembered the annoyingly loud screech it made every morning when she woke up. Not that there were really any silent boards in this piece-of-shit apartment she'd rented with her boyfriend. Everything seemed to break -if it had ever worked right- and maintenance almost doubled the rent. It was home, though, and she was proud of it. For the most part.

Another footstep in the living room was followed by a muffled curse that Rybecca's pointed ears could just barely pick up, a masculine voice that she didn't at all recognise. It had an almost-stereotypical thug drawl to it from what she could make out, and her mind started to race. There were several gangs in town, but she didn't know why any of them would choose to target her of all people. She made next to nothing!

Unless her ex had hired someone to fuck her up, scare her. If so, it was working, the Kobold's breaths increasing in pace, her heartbeat uptempo compared to the hibernating beast it had been while she slept. News headlines flashed through her mind, all of the recent gang violence she'd witnessed over the past couple of years living in Belmont. She was terrified of becoming just another dead body, another unsolved case. Long-forgotten memories began to seep into her awareness, her mother's dead body and the gunman who killed her looking at the dead lady's terrified child and spitting on the floor before walking away, and she bit her lip, trying to push it all down. She needed to be paying attention right now, she couldn't afford to miss anything or slip up.

Not that she needed to make a mistake to give herself away, it seemed like every thump of her pawpads on the cheap rug she'd thrown into the hallway when she moved in was audible, loud even. It was hard to be completely silent, no matter how hard she tried, and she found herself hoping whoever it was wouldn't hear.

Rybecca looked both ways as she stood in the doorway, trying to decide what the hell to do. Light seeped from underneath the closed kitchen door, precious light! If she could just get there, grab a knife, she might be able to defend herself or scare her attacker off. The other door, leading to the living room, was dark and wide open, and she stared at it for a few seconds before turning back to the kitchen. She needed that knife. Her blunt claws would do nothing, she had to keep them dull for her job, like most animals who worked in an office did, and they couldn't even slice through paper, much less fur and flesh.

A gasp escaped her as movement flitted on the dark end of the hallway, taunting her peripheral vision. Her head spun in that direction, gaze raking through the shadows and doorways, but nothing seemed to be out of place. She scolded herself, trying to keep it in check. Can't afford to be seeing shit, Ry. C'mon!

With a brave first step, she began to make her way to the kitchen door, hoping and praying that nobody heard those raggedy breaths or padded pawsteps. Not until she got that knife. Doubts flitted at the back of her mind that she would be able to hurt the intruder at all, and she tried her best to stifle them. When it came down to the wire, she needed to be able to stab him if he didn't leave. No matter that she was the same Kobold who had been kicked out of scouts as a kid for refusing to hunt or skin feral rabbits, the same Rybecca that would trap beetles instead of stepping on them, saving the crawlers for an outside release. It didn't matter. Couldn't matter.

Try as she could, Rybecca couldn't make out any more noises from the living room or anywhere else in the house. That scared her too, not knowing where he was, and every shadow seemed to leap out at her like a puppet on strings, controlled by the malevolent grasp of her fear and paranoia. It took all her willpower to not just scream for help and barricade herself in her room- calls like that were often ignored in the city, nobody wanted to get any more involved with crime then they were. That was also why so many crimes went unsolved: nobody wanted to come forward about anything, ever, lest someone find out and punish them severely.

.

As Ry came within arm's reach of the door, she froze. She didn't remember closing that door, knew that it had been open when she'd crashed in bed. There was no way her lazy self had thought to close it- she hadn't even cleaned off the counters! Her first instinct was to turn around and flee to the living room, anywhere but that lit up door, but she knew that was stupid. Last she'd heard, the intruder was in the living room. Plus, that's where the TV and computer were, surely those were theft-worthy, right? All seven pieces of jewelry she owned were locked up in the bathroom, and the only things left in the kitchen from when her boyfriend left were a few plates and silverware. There was no reason for him to be in there.

What settled it was her need for some sort of weapon, something that she could only find in that room. She wasn't strong enough to do any real damage with a blunt object, and the only sharp things she owned were the knives she cooked with. There's no way he's in there. He doesn't have any reason to be there, she told herself, paw gripping at the cold handle of the door. She knew if any hesitation took over her, she would end up chickening out, so she steeled herself and threw the door open, making sure to catch it before it hit the wall- and froze.

Standing on the tiled floor of the kitchen was a shadowy-black panther, blue eyes staring out with malice that pierced through the dark like neon signs. In his left paw he held the cutting knife that had been out on the counter, and he was rolling it between his fingers with the obvious skill of someone who knows how to use a weapon. A small pink tattoo on his shoulder proved he was in some sort of gang, but she never payed enough attention to those kinds of things to know which one it was. Not that it mattered, she needed to run, to scream, to do something!

As she quickly found out, she couldn't. Her feet were frozen, her lungs devoid of any air to scream with. It was as if the wood of the doorway had wrapped around her legs like weeds, pulling her down and rooting her to the spot, trapping her in their grasp. She knew she needed to move, to alert her neighbours, but her commands got intercepted somewhere after leaving her brain, body completely unresponsive with shock.

The panther met her dilated eyes with a nonchalant smirk, half-raised eyebrows taunting her indecision. He stopped rolling the knife and flipped it in his paw, letting it settle into a lazy combat grip, the glinting edge held out and downwards. Rybecca watched, hypnotised by the movements.

The panther was the first to break the silence. "Normally a pretty bitch like you would've turn tail and run or screamed for dear mommy... You mute, cunt?" His smirk erupted into a sneer, his body relaxing down through his tense torso.

Those words served to be the ax that severed Rybecca from her position, unfreezing her body. She turned around, aiming to do both those things, but she never got the chance. The panther threw his knife to the side, letting it clang onto the counter, and used his feline instincts to spring into her, knocking her off her feet and into the wall. Immediately, Rybecca's vision went red, the back of her head smashing into the doorframe with a solid smack, sending huge waves of pain through her body. She crumpled to the ground, her vision fading alongside with her awareness of the world around her.

Faintly, she could feel a pool of blood spreading from the back of her head, but that was all in another universe. It didn't matter. Already, she could see a shadowy darkness spreading across her field of view, the welcoming sanctum of unconsciousness, and she accepted that. At least she wouldn't have to watch herself die, watch that panther slit her throat with his untrimmed claws.

Out of that black, Rybecca could see a little slit of pink becoming visible. At first, she looked at it, confused, but as her senses came into focus she realised what exactly it was: the panther's tip coming out of his sheath, hanging a couple of feet above her. He must've taken some perverted pleasure from having this female so submissively laid down at his feetpaws, not moving but stuck.

With a grunt of satisfaction, the panther sat down on Rybecca's lap like he was the one riding her, not caring at all whether the Kobold could support his heavy weight. Not that it mattered- she couldn't move any of her muscles. All of her senses had come into hyperawareness, but it was like she was completely paralysed, a living statue.

She knew that she needed to scream or push him off her, there was something in his grin that she could tell was evil- he truly didn't care about her. And that was something completely new to her. She had played non-con with her partners in the past, but there was always a little bit of holding back on both sides, a want to make sure that everyone would come out of it okay. A safe word had always been picked, a tap-out if things got too intense- not that Ry would ever use it, but the fact that something was there to stop things from going too far felt so safe.

The panther seemed to know, or at least suspect, that Rybecca was out of it. She could tell from his movements that he didn't expect her to struggle at all, in the slow, almost uncaring way he massaged his member to coax it out of his sheath.

If Rybecca could've gasped at the length and girth of his shaft, she would've- those barbs started just below the tip, curled outwards to wicked-looking edges, and she felt a shiver go through her spine as she pictured them pounding into her. Despite her situation, she could feel the familiar warmth of arousal spreading between her legs, that lusty slickness seeping out of her folds, soaking her thighs and pants. Try as she might to push it down, she couldn't. A part of her deep inside loved being controlled, loved to be abused and hurt. That was part of why she had put up with her ex for so long- sometimes he would come home drop-dead drunk, stumbling through doorways, and beat the shit of her. And she, well, missed that.

The panther paused in his stroking to reach up to her cheek, almost tenderly. Rybecca felt the soft caress of his pawpads running along her cheek, an almost relaxing sensation, quickly followed by a heavy grunt as the panther stabbed his unsheathed claws into the flesh there, causing fiery sensations to rip through her scaled skin. Paths of pain tracked like little cornrows following a tractor in a field, blood beginning to spill out of the cuts. Those tearing marks began and ended on her cheek, the panther pulling his claws out of her and grinning.

"There we go, much better. Right?" he said, tilting his head to the side a bit to admire his handiwork. A frown formed on his face as he saw the uneven markings, and he went back with his claws to make them all the same length. Rybecca tried to scream, but that paralysis had still set in all over, trapping her in a shell of a body, aware but unconscious. Her eyes felt like they were going to pop out of their sockets with the effort she was putting into her movements, but that was the only reward for her attempts. Screams stopped half-formed in her throat, bubbling out as nothing more than panting gasps, the only sign that she was conscious.

Rybecca's focus shattered as she felt that same stabbing pain in her belly, and she shifted her gaze to watch in horror as the panther sliced open her tshirt, his claw poking through the fabric to cut open her stomach as well. Rybecca begged her mind to let her fade into unconsciousness as unbearable pain washed over her- surely that would be better than watching herself bleed to death, unable to do anything, but her mind ignored her. Pain washed over her entire body like she had been dunked into the river Styx, threatening to tumble her over the cliff into insanity.

That claw continued to carve its torturous path up her chest, bisecting the tshirt and letting her breasts spring free, though the panther didn't seem to care one bit about them. He finished slicing through her chest and the shirt, letting warm blood spill out of her onto the floor around the two. It smelled acrid, and his nostril flared slightly with each breath, his tongue coming out to lick his chops.

The stale air of Rybecca's apartment felt like an arctic wind as it washed over the lava-like mess that was her chest, lungs and breasts heaving with each gasping breath she made. The panther didn't seem to mind her reactions, bringing his claw up to his own maw to give it a deep sniff, eyes closing in pleasure. He made to lick it clean and thought better of it, leaning forward to hook his claw into Rybecca's mouth, rubbing her own blood all over the insides of her maw. Rybecca was disgusted by the taste, shocked that the panther would do something like this. He grabbed her tongue with one paw and rubbed those claws clean on it, slicing her tongue in a bunch places. She didn't even feel that among all the other sensations rolling through her- it was like dropping a bucket of water into an ocean for all the effect it had.

Once he was satisfied that his slut had cleaned that claw off, he pulled out of her mouth with a slick squelch, his claws retracted. A coo came from his mouth as he looked down at her, smirking. "What a good little whore, cleaning master off like that... and I didn't even have to ask. I think you deserve a gift for that.~" he said, moving off of her completely to hover his claw above her pajama pants.

The panther's greasy cock dripped musky sweat and pre onto her thighs, its warmth soaking through the fabric, mixing with and enhancing that of her own arousal. She still couldn't get over how evil-looking his feline member looked- barbs like something in a horror movie, the kind of thing you would see in a monster's lair as decorations, malevolent and pulsing alongside the numerous veins poking out of his flesh. Her mind couldn't stay off the possibilities that massive member presented, how there was no way she could stop it being inside of her....

He was almost gentle as he removed her pants, taking care not to hurt her legs or mess with the gentle folds of her vagina as he tore through the blue patterns of pineapples that coloured her pajamas and threw them to the side, the article of clothing landing in a crumpled mass atop her t-shirt. His eyes widened for the first time since Ry had seen him as he saw the wet mess that was her swollen pussy, and he reached a paw out as if to make sure what he saw was true.

"Fucking perverted slut, turned on from getting raped. If you're getting any pleasure from this, I would enjoy it while you can. When I'm done with you, you're gonna wish you were fucking dead. Slut." he spat out, his saliva landing in a mess atop her thighs and crotch. He followed that spit with a finger, shoving it roughly into her folds, claws still retracted. She was in so much pain and so slick that she barely felt it, even as he groped another finger in, not doing anything to pleasure her, just making sure she was slick enough to fuck, almost clinical in his movements.

Not that she was paying any attention to those fingers. Her gaze was still cast straight onto that glistening pink member. She'd heard things about felines, how much it hurt to fuck them, and it finally clicked in her mind why that was. Those barbs existed with one purpose: to turn their user into a breeder. Feral cats had developed barbs so that the females they fucked couldn't pull away once mounted, lest they risked tearing their own folds open. If he planned to use those against her, she would be ruined. She couldn't let him fuck her like that- she couldn't have cubs, couldn't put up with them, didn't want to be violated like that... but it was too late. Those fingers slinked out of her with a slickened plop, liquid splattering onto the floor between her thighs.

He settled back down on top of her, this time sliding his member between her legs like a hotdog in a bun, letting those barbs graze her thighs and thrusting back and forth a couple of times before lining his tip up to her entrance, his gaze completely focused on her face. He was the predator who enjoyed nothing more than seeing the fear in his prey's eyes, the hyena who watched as his prey begged for an end to the pain, a wasp that stabbed someone just for the pleasure of causing pain.

And pain did he cause. That intial thrust did nothing but stretch her out, letting a bit of excitement build inside of her, lust to be bred no matter the outcome. He was slow with that first movement, and it did feel good- but as he retracted himself slowly, watching her face for any reaction to the pain, it felt like the pulling of a million razor blades across her folds, the barbs and their tips raking through the sensitive flesh of her vagina. Blackness danced across her eyes like shadows from a flickering fire, the tantalising grasp of death and unconsciousness darting just out of reach of her abused body.

The panther knew what he was doing. His slowness was deliberate, like the pull of a band-aid off skin. The pleasure didn't come from the movements themselves to him, he got off on the reactions he caused- wouldn't cum unless he knew it would ruin his prey, that was why he loved to rape and to claim. He had been careful with his bitch, and now it was time to bring her to the edge of death- not that he cared whether he pushed her over or not. All that matters was that his cum ended up inside of her, preferably leaving hordes of kits inside. Sometimes he would come by and "check up" on his victims, a couple times beating the shit out of them and causing miscarriages, other times raping them once more. A few never made it past the first time. Less than that survived the second.

Panic once again wrenched its terrible way through Rybecca's body, the pangs almost as sharp as those of the thrusting panther. Some part of her knew she wasn't going to make it, knew that this panther wanted her out of commission. The walls of her cheap apartment were terribly thin, countless times she had heard her neighbours playing music too loud or fucking their partners too hard- if she could just scream! Ry found herself wishing she had gotten closer to any of her neighbours, maybe just made one or two friends that would care if shit happened to her. The hopeful thoughts in her mind were that someone would hear... the realistic part knew they wouldn't care.

That meant she needed to find it within herself to fight back, needed to breach past this paralysis that kept her under, access some hidden recesses of strength. Her eyes tensed and clenched in ways they never had before, popping with the effort- and she was rewarded with a tiny flinch of her right paw! Sheer celebratory bliss coursed through her body, separate channels being used than the ones that sent the biting pain of her rapist's continued thrusts. Her desperation put up a sort of wall blocking all of that pain out as best she could, dulling it into a blissful numbness and emptiness. The panther was too heavily focused on thrusting into her to notice the twitching paw, and she stopped all efforts on movement to build up strength and confidence. She would be safe.

Now, she was focused entirely on perseverance. No longer did the dancing grip of unconsciousness tempt her- she needed to stay awake, needed to build energy. That was the only possible way for her to break free of this torture. Her eyes flitted about, observing the distances towards everything and anything that could be used as any sort of weapon: a drawer pulled out of its socket, a cabinet door slammed into a face. She planned every movement she would need to make, from pulling herself back and off of those horrible barbs to kicking the panther away. That was key- if the panther was close, he could pin her down easily with the weight advantage he had. Surprise was her only ally. Maybe she could barricade herself in her room and crawl out the window after he was knocked out! Yes!

The panther slammed in and out of her as quick as he could, her torn and mangled pussy dripping a mix of blood and pre out alongside his member. He no longer cared or wanted to see her face or body... the clenching of her muscles around his hardened cock, the slick feeling of his bloody cocktail, those were the fuel accelerating him closer and closer to that finish he craved so much. She would be his breeder bitch. He was completely oblivious to her sly glances, thought that she was completely incapacitated with pain. And that would be his downfall.

With an explosive unclenching of her pussy and thighs, Rybecca threw herself up and off of the panther's cock, completely shredding her outer folds, but that beyond her. She was hyperfocused on the rest of her movements, kicking out and shoving the panther backwards into the counter and climbing up onto her feet. She needed to keep the panther down. Running to the side, she pulled her cutlery drawer out of its little aisle and flung the contents onto the panther, knives and forks hitting him on the face and chest, stunning him. She stepped backwards and brandished the wooden container as a shield and weapon, planting her scaled paws on the tiled floor.

The panther yelled with rage and fear as he was thrown backwards, a barrage of metal instruments hitting his fetal body, slicing indents into any exposed slivers of skin they could find. Despite the shock and terror he felt at his prey rearing up at him, he reacted quickly. A couple of steak knives had clattered onto the floor, and he picked them up before dashing to the side, making Rybecca turn her body to watch him. He threw himself at her, intending to knock the Kobold off balance and tumble her backwards. And, he would've failed, had it not been for the pools of blood that were splurged onto the floor where Ry had been laying, slippery red piles of precum and her fleshy gore. Her planted foot stepped backwards straight into the largest puddle, making her slide backwards, head smashing into the ground.

She screamed as she felt the panther's heavy weight settle on her once again, a scream that soon ended as the panther swung one, two punches straight into her head, slamming that scaled head into the tiles twice, knocking her into unconsciousness. Still he pounded her head, five, six, seven times, each knock indenting the back of her skull onto finally it crunched, giving way. Only then did the panther stop, focusing on her pussy with ravaging intent. He thrust into her, burying himself within those folds over and over with blurred speed, lust brought on by his dominance over her.

After only a few seconds of this repeated thrusting, he buried himself up to his heavily furred sack and came, spurting thick ropes of his kits deep into her birth canal and ovaries, sperm beginning to assault her egg and latch on. He let out a few content grunts, his shaft pulsing with every shoot of his warm seed deep inside of her. He pulled out as soon as he was done, scrawling out a quick message on a piece of paper with some pens and tape he found in a nearby drawer before leaving, spitting a final time on her unconscious body.

A few minutes passed before Rybecca was able to gasp into consciousness, the panther's black fist the last thing on her mind. She glanced around, eyes blurred with tears and blood, pain looming on the edge of her awareness like a tsunami on the horizon. She knew she needed to call someone, and she remembered the cheap home phone that had been on the counter when she moved in. Surely it could dial 911, right? A warmth began to spread in her belly, far deeper than where any of the cuts had been, and she felt along her ruined pussy, wondering what it could be. Then, as she staggered upright, it hit her. He had bred her, impregnated her.

A tortured yowl escaped her lungs as she came to this realisation, hatred and fear spilling out of her. There was no way she could avoid kits now, he had made sure of that. As if to taunt her, cum spilled out of her pussy when she stood up, slicking down her legs with its warmth. She shook her head, still screaming. The part of her that had been put on autopilot reached for the phone and dialed the number she needed, someone picking up almost immediately.

"HE- HE CAME IN MY HOUSE, HE BROKE IN- AND HE- HE-" she got out before collapsing into tears, sobbing and wailing. The operator was stunned, pausing for a second before answering.

"Hey, ma'am I need you to tell me your address. I need your apartment number. Come on, please, ma'am."

Rybecca's broken mind thought for a couple seconds before stumbling across the answer: "S-sixteen,, apartment sixteen... He- he raped me,, HE RAPED ME! I think I have him,, still in me.. I need help.. HELP M-"

The woman on the line tried to calm her down, but Rybecca had no care for whispered hope. She was ruined. Broken. Already she could see traces of nothingness appearing at the edge of her vision, and this time they were welcomed. She didn't want to feel anything anymore. And that was the last thought on her mind as the darkness welcomed her with open arms.