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Elizabeth had always been the good one. The responsible one. Her parents' perfect, good little girl. Natalie had been angry and rebellious, and Jessica was young and clueless with her head in the clouds, but it was Elizabeth who knew how to roll with the few punches that came her way, and how to act so that when Frand was troubled, there was usually a more appropriate target for his acting out. She never called it what it really was, not even in her mind, because to say it would be to admit that there was a problem. And was there, really? Sure, it was true that their lives weren't perfect, but no one in their neighborhood was much better off, and while her folks weren't perfect, they were the only family she had, and she needed to stick with them. Sometimes things were rough, but sometimes they were better, and Elizabeth grew up living for those better times. She believed that her family, Frand included, were inherently good, and she resented Natalie for running out when they hit one of the bad patches; if they just stayed together and rode things out, Elizabeth was sure that eventually things would get better, Natalie would return, and they'd just be a nice, happy family again, helping each other get by the best they could.

In the fall of her senior year, though, things began to get worse, in a different way. Up to that point, it hadn't been easy, but they'd all gotten through. Losing power or water was an annoyance, but they all managed. After Natalie ran away, and the two remaining girls were restricted from going anywhere beyond home and school, it had been disappointing to see her friends less, but she had adapted. At least, she thought, she was still able to see them during the school day, and at home she could help Naomi with dinner and Jessica with her homework, as a good daughter should. Her friends liked her, her family needed her, and she never felt unwanted - and with that, she had been satisfied.

Of course, Elizabeth was also aware that the situation could have been worse. Her friends sometimes showed up to school with an eye swelled shut, or an arm in a makeshift cast, with some lame excuse about how the injury had come to pass. A couple disappeared and never came back to school at all, amidst rumors that the parents had been arrested and the other kids scattered within the foster system. Frand hadn't done anything nearly to that scale, though, at least not to Elizabeth or her sister. Naomi was another matter, but that had been between her and Frand, and she didn't seem to want or need anyone else to step in. The two of them ran hot and cold: one day, Naomi would yell and Frand would punch, and on another they would head into the bedroom and scream, thump and rut like wild animals. Since Jessica had arrived, though, Naomi hadn't again become visibly pregnant, and for a while no one had seemed to mind; but then Frand had taken her to the clinic, where they had apparently figured out why, and that was about when Frand started to act differently, in ways that soon made Elizabeth yearn for the days when all he would dispense was an occasional smack or shove.

Unlike her sister Jessica, who was somehow still fairly naive about the whole thing despite their parents' fairly frequent and noisy lovemaking, for Elizabeth sex was not a particular mystery. Not that she'd partaken of it, mind you; the thought of Frand's reaction to that had scared her away from much beyond a kiss or two occasionally snuck behind the school building, although judging by the responses she'd received once her body had blossomed, there were many who would have been willing to do much more. Many of her friends were not nearly as restrained, and from their occasionally giggly accounts, she was able to glean the basics of all the various parts and motions, along with the sense of just how thrilling such things could be. Even without the onset of estrus, which was supposed to fully awaken such drives, Elizabeth had begun to notice several boys in her class, and grew to enjoy the feelings of attractiveness and attraction that a glance from them could produce. The kisses and light touches that she had allowed had been even better, the beginnings of fantasies that she would vividly elaborate during the occasions she could get her bedroom to herself. They were usually accompanied by a hand that would sneak under her skirt, and sometimes inside her panties, to pair the fantasies with at least some of the physical sensations they deserved. Her friends had occasionally talked about such things as well, with even more embarrassed titters, but with descriptive enough euphemisms, such as "polishing the pearl," that the acts themselves were easy enough to figure out. She had discovered that it was a little bit trickier for girls of northern descent, as the pearl was buried deeper and required a finger's insistent dig through the soft, puffy folds to track it down, but the tingly thrill it produced each time she tracked it down became the needed spark to bring her fantasies alive.

She was only able to do it on occasion, though, as doing anything like that around Frand was right out - before, at least, that sort of thing would probably have elicited at least a smack for not being a "proper girl." Theoretically, there were opportunities at night, under the covers, but with Jessica asleep in the bed next to hers, somehow it just didn't feel right - listening to her gentle breathing as she slept reminded Elizabeth of her sister's innocence, and she was afraid that her own actions nearby would somehow taint that. Trying to explain crying out at an unfortunate, uncontrolled moment was not any more appealing. As a result, she was limited to afternoons when Jessica was hanging out in the living room and Frand was out somewhere, things that didn't happen all that often, but she made do. That being said, though, as she entered into her senior year, Elizabeth was certainly tempted to let the boys who occasionally courted her go just a bit further.

The year had started out well enough, with Elizabeth feeling confident, reasonably popular with her own friends and with boys that she liked, and doing Bs-and-Cs respectably in school, which was an impressive achievement given her home life and complete lack of educational support from either of her parents. As soon as school had started, they had begun their formal "health" class, which quickly put more formal descriptions to the things that Elizabeth had already largely figured out. The only really new thing was learning about estrus, or "heat," which was apparently a completely natural part of a woman's sexual maturity, and something that seemed much less mysterious when dryly explained by a teacher: a higher level of arousal, certain things swelling here and there, the body becoming a little more sensitive to touch, and parts inside becoming slicker and stretchier to fully accommodate the act of mating, including the bulging part at the base of a male's thing that her tittering friends hadn't even conjectured was something that could, or was supposed to, go inside. Aside from that particular part, it had all sounded kind of cool and thrilling and fun, and was to happen to her at some point in the future, although Elizabeth hadn't given it that much thought after the less on was over. Her life was busy enough with other things, and so the notion of it faded to some vague thing in the back of her mind, until the day that Frand brought Naomi back from the clinic.

That had been a bad night, a night of cowering huddled around her little sister to protect her from harm, although for some reason Frand had been far more interested in hitting things than people. When it was followed by the eerie calm of his absence, Elizabeth even allowed herself to think, for a time, that somehow the visit had been a wake-up call to him, to tell him that he'd stepped too far over the line, and that things would get better from there on out. In a way, she had turned out to be right, as after that day Frand's blows became few and far between, and never directed at his children. However, the respite had only shifted over to something new and insidious, and the moment Frand made his pronouncement that only shirts and panties could be worn in the house, Elizabeth had a good idea what it was about - and the notion of her upcoming heat came back to the forefront of her mind, only this time with a new and sinister edge.

Jessica, at least, didn't seem to be bothered by it at all, and neither did Naomi - apparently, despite whatever deficiency she might have inside, she appreciated the opportunity to once again look attractive in Frand's eyes. Elizabeth, though, was all too aware of Frand's gaze, especially the way that it lingered lower, on her breasts and crotch, whenever he was in the room with her. There was no way that she could enjoy it; wearing only panties made her feel exposed, and she was almost certain that the looks were a prelude to something more direct. Elizabeth tried to cover up as best she could, wearing the longest shirts she could to cover up most of her panties and hoping that Frand would take his gaze elsewhere, but all that did was make Frand grin maniacally as he opened up her wardrobe and tore her shirts to confetti with his claws, along with the few bras she had somehow managed to acquire. He had bought her new shirts to replace them, of course; snug, short babydoll tees that left her panties and midriff completely exposed, and were tight enough across the chest that even her nipples were clearly visible. She managed to cover that up with a jacket or coat at school, but those were soon banned at home as well. Another wardrobe raid later, for which Jessica was mercifully absent, ended with Frand caressing each pair of her panties before ripping them up too; the replacements, in various feminine colors, had both a lower cut and higher legs, and snuggled in even closer against the crotch to make an outline of what lay beneath clearly visible. She felt even more vulnerable, and spent as much time at school as she could, but she always eventually had to come home to endure Frand's intense, obvious gaze - a gaze that remained fixated on her more and more with each passing day. Elizabeth tried to ignore it as best she could, but each time Frand unashamedly groped Naomi while looking pointedly in her direction, Elizabeth couldn't help but feel a twinge of fear run through her - along with a twinge of something else, of her body's unwanted instinctual response, which horrified her even more. Of course, that was probably what Frand wanted her to feel as a result of his displays, and while Elizabeth tried to put it out of her mind as much as she could, the stress was beginning to take its toll. Even her normal avenues of relief were problematic, with Frand's face appearing during one of her fantasies and leaving her fearful of trying it again. It was bad, and obvious where it was heading, but what could she do? She couldn't just run off, and leave her little sister alone with Frand - she had to protect her, which meant she had to stay here. There was no one else who she could think of to talk to who would listen seriously to her. Maybe, as with their other problems, this one too would eventually fade, as Frand found something else to spark his interest. Denial was a skill that they had all learned at an early age to cope with their family issues, and Elizabeth employed it expertly, keeping a smiling face to present to her friends and teachers as she did her best to walk around the house in her tight shirts and panties and pretend that nothing more would come of any of it.

For a few weeks, that strategy managed to work, but the day that she feared was only delayed, not denied, and finally, inevitably, it arrived. She had felt a little hot and bothered the night before, but simply assumed something had randomly set her off, and did her best to ignore it as usual. When she awoke, though, the undeniable warmth permeating her abdomen and trickling out hotly between her legs was more than ample proof that her estrus had begun. Along with it came another shock of anxiety: given what it signified, she could only imagine what Frand might do if he found out about her condition. Her situation was the same, though, and there was no easy escape; she would have to do what she could, hide it as well as possible until it ran its course, and hope there was some way her secret could be kept just long enough. The only person she dared to tell was Jessica, in response to her sister's concern about why she looked so stressed - Elizabeth knew that she would never tell anyone about it, both because she was her sister, and because she probably didn't even know why it was significant.

Elizabeth hid the soiled panties far back in a closed drawer, where there strange, feminine smell wouldn't be able to spread, and pulled on a clean pair - luckily, at the moment at least, Frand wasn't snooping around to catch a peek at her changing. At the moment, all she wanted to do was to get out of the house before something else happened. Perhaps because of the warm feeling in her stomach, she didn't feel all that hungry, so she skipped breakfast, threw on some clothes and went to school early.

She made it through the school day pretty much unscathed, aside from a few curious looks from some of the boys. The trickle of moisture had slowed, but not stopped completely, and by the time she got home there was another pair of panties that needed hiding. She carefully avoided Frand, who was chopping wood in the back of the house from the sound of it, and tucked the underwear away with the first before changing into what she was allowed to wear around the house. She grimaced as the new pair slid into place against flesh that was more sensitive than it should have been, and bulged out against the fabric more than it should, making its outline all the more obvious and making Elizabeth feel even more exposed. Maybe Frand wouldn't smell it, maybe he wouldn't notice the difference - but if he did, the single layer of soft, thin fabric would do little to impede him.

For a while, it seemed like her ploy to disguise what was happening was going to work. Even with the strange, building warmth, and the way it caused a flush of unbidden arousal when Frand walked inside, she was able to keep it together and act the way she normally did: good, responsible, and uninteresting. She got through dinner, with the four of them around the table, Jessica talking eagerly about her day while Naomi feigned interest and Frand didn't bother to disguise his boredom. It was one of the lucky nights that they had power, nights that had happily been coming more frequently, and she had planned to spend it as calmly and normally as possible: watch a little TV with her sister, do homework in her room, and go to bed before anyone took notice. Her teacher had said that the condition could last between three and five days, so all it might take was a couple of days' more determination before the problem went away.

She was leaning over to adjust the TV antenna, trying to bring in an actual signal, when through the sound of the static she heard footfalls behind her, and could practically feel Frand's gaze lingering on her posterior. She straightened up rapidly, turning around, even as she instinctively tried to pull down the too-short shirt to cover her. As she did, though, she caught a whiff of an all-too-familiar scent, and even before she saw the feral grin on Frand's face, and the crumpled-up panties oozing slickness into his fist, she felt her heart sink as she realized that her luck at keeping the secret had suddenly and abruptly run out.

"So, it's time, and you didn't even think to tell your dear old dad, huh? Think you can just clean up and hide it? Not with my muzzle, girlie. If you think I'm gonna let that go by in my house without taking care of it the way a man ought to, well, that ain't gonna happen."

His words froze her in place, as her mind whirled in a panic - whatever was going to happen, it was happening now, and so deep was her denial that she had no idea how to act. Several instincts fought within her: run away, strike out, close your eyes and hope it would all go away. She was unable to seize onto any one of them, though, and stood rooted to the spot, her heart thudding as Frand strode up to her. Then his arms flashed out, and before Elizabeth could even hold up an arm to ward him off, his arms were wrapped around her and pulling her in close against his chest. She cried out in surprise, her exclamation muzzled by the fabric of Frand's shirt pressed up against her muzzle, feeling his hot breath puff down on her face as a certain scent chilled her to the bone. Or rather, it was the lack of one, something that she couldn't recall happening in a long, long time. The breath puffing down on her was clean, without even the slightest astringent twinge: for tonight, at least, Frand was fully and completely sober.

For a moment, he released the hug, and Elizabeth tried to shrink away, but a firm hand clapped into place low on her back and pushed her body in tightly against him. She struggled to push back, her hands flat against her father's chest and trying to shove him away, but Frand's arm was too strong and made her efforts futile. She had no choice to lean in against his chest, her nose taking in the smell of dirt, wood, and thick, masculine musk that made the warmth flare inside her even despite her panic. The feeling made her redouble her efforts to struggle away, but that only made Frand grasp her tighter - now, she could feel the cold metal of his belt buckle pressing in against her fur just below where her shirt ended, and the undisguised bulge in his pants nudging against her just below the low-slung waistband of her panties. Her body thrilled for a moment at what that meant, exactly what it shouldn't be doing, as her chest tensed and panicked horror flashed across her mind. There was no question now that he was really going to do something serious to her, but she was in his grasp and there was nowhere to run.

Even as her mind began to register its despair, she felt something brushing against her lower down, and a moment later fingers that felt like iron clenched hard around her left buttock. The sudden sensation made her body stiffen against him, shocked at Frand's direct, physical violation. He held his hand in place for a moment longer, his hot breath puffing faster as he seemed to enjoy feeling Elizabeth squirm under his touch, before he released it, but only so he could slide his hand around, petting and patting her through her panties, before the palm settled into place on their seat. For a moment, Elizabeth was unsure of what he was doing, but it was all too clear a moment later when a pair of fingers pressed in, hard and rough, against the crotch of her panties.

Elizabeth cried out as Frand's fingers probed roughly against her mound, cringing and thrilling as the stimulated the too-sensitive flesh beneath. It was nothing like her own gentle ministrations, carefully rubbing and polishing her way to happiness - instead it was just intense, too intense, especially when Frand's fingers came across her clit, and instead of rubbing it, just mashed in against it and yanked her sensitive nub back and forth along the fabric. She screamed out, as her pussy flashed between shocks of pain and waves of rough pleasure that rocked her sensitive flesh. It was just too intense, in every possible way, and she squirmed her hips desperately in an attempt to get away. Frand's strong arm kept her in place, though, and his fingers kept working, hammering incessantly at the nub now that they had found it. Elizabeth's scream turned ragged in her throat as the sensation overwhelmed her, a series of shocks bursting across her mind and making her belly flare with a harsh, hot wave of perverse pleasure that her mind could no longer protest. Her hips and thighs tensed, throbbing as her pussy succumbed to its manhandling, fluttering and pulsing intently around the pressure of Frand's fingers as something hot splashed out against them. Then the rest of her body gave in to the flaring pulses of weakness and uncomfortable warmth, her legs twitching aimlessly beneath her as she lost her purchase and slumped against Frand, his arm wrapped around her back the only thing holding her up. Her body continued to pulse, waves of raw, animal sensation blanking her mind from the danger of her situation, even as somewhere remotely she felt hands hoisting her up, jackknifed in two around the shoulder pressing into her belly, limp and overwhelmed as her traitorous pussy continued to throb with wet warmth, soaking her panties with the slick wetness that she knew would let Frand take her without her body offering the slightest resistance.

The pulses stopped and her head finally cleared, to the rocking feeling of Frand's shoulder against her belly as he took each step forward. Looking down from her involuntary perch as her head cleared and the orgasmic sparks fading from her eyes, she watched as the carpet of the hallway passed by beneath her, its dirty, faded pattern measuring out the fading seconds as her fate steadily, inevitably approached. Then the carpeting changed as they crossed the threshold, the dividing line between the dull floral pattern and the faded, matted chocolate brown of the bedroom's pile carpeting, before the door arced in to obscure it as it slammed shut. Frand paused, turning around, and there was the slightest clink above her; Elizabeth glanced up to see Frand putting a chain across the door, all the way at the top, that only he could reach. There was now truly no way out - it was just her and Frand, and whatever he had in mind.

As the very last vestiges of her denial fell away, just as the awful truth of what was about to happen fully sank in, she was suddenly sailing through the air, her limbs flailing weakly for purchase, Frand's grinning face falling away, before she landed on her back and felt the comforter of her parents' bed against her. She took a panicked breath as her body bounced slightly before settling into place, taking in Frand and Naomi's combined scent from the bedsheets, the sound of a sliding zipper and the soft impact of clothes falling against the carpet. Then there was a flash of fur, and Frand was on top of her, his weight pressing her down as his hands struggled against her sides, batting her arms aside and yanking her shirt over her head before lowering his body down against hers. She shuddered as she felt her nipples tense and harden against Frand's fur rubbing intensely against them, even as she came to terms with the sensation of his tip pressing in, hard and hot, against her crotch. The thin fabric strained as it pressed in against her, the final obstacle, even as it pressed in against her bulging mound from the pressure. Then there was the feel of incisors tugging in against the nape of her neck, just firm enough to let her know they were there, then the cold flash of a claw along the fur on her hips, and the rip of fabric as the seams of her panties came apart and the last barrier between them fell away. For a moment, something pressed in along her mound, settling in between the ridges of her nether lips, and she made one last weak, futile attempt to squirm her hips away beneath him. It did no good, though, and Elizabeth could feel every motion as Frand pressed his body down along her entirely... and then a sudden, tearing pain as Frand's hips slammed mercilessly forward between her legs.

Strangely, though, the burst of pain was over in a flash, replaced by a feeling of alien intensity at the thing that was suddenly inside her. It was nothing like the one time she had dared to hesitantly stick a finger in; instead, there was a feeling of raw, squirming, violating sensation as Frand's thickness shoved in. It felt as though a shaft of focused heat pressed impossibly close against her insides, stretching them involuntarily to conform around its shape. She cried out as her soft inner flesh squirmed against the intrusion, trying somehow to resist or adapt as the shape inside of her pushed in relentlessly, but all it could do was yield helplessly as its length pushed inside. She felt her body rock forward as the equally hot base nudged up against her already-spread ridges, and she gasped for breath as her mind desperately tried to come to terms with the sensations and find some way to cope. The shaft was already drawing back, though, a slight ridge dragging back along her inner walls and producing a bizarre, almost pleasantly tickling sensation, even as she felt her inner lips tugged outward as they gripped involuntarily against the shaft dragging back along them. The moment the ridge was almost back out of her, though, the motion suddenly changed, and the shaft slammed back down inside her.

The thrusts continued relentlessly, faster and harder, each one causing her to cry out with its wave of sudden intensity, coming so frequently that another burst of sensation arrived before her mind could even process the previous one. Her body squirmed and writhed around the suddenness of each thrust, the sensation of momentary resistance being brutally shoved aside, as each thrust forced her body to yield and stretch and give itself over to the hot presence that that made its presence known within her. It dominated the core of her for an impossibly long moment at the end of each thrust, before pulling back to continue the pounding cycle that her body and mind wanted desperately to resist, but were forced to accept.

Each inevitable thrust wore down her body's token resistance, the squirming sensation within her subsiding to a continuous rubbing, stretching feeling. The tingling and warmth pressing unrelentingly forward stoked something raw and animal within her, some primeval part that made her feel as though her abdomen was on fire and sent short, barking cries escaping from her lips unbidden. She didn't want to cry out, didn't want to give Frand the satisfaction of feeling her react, but more and more it felt like her very body was slipping out from under her control, ceding it to Frand and the awful, feral, heated instincts - base, automatic drives that clawed at her belly and forced her hips to buck back against the thrusts, a burning itch within that didn't seem to care whether the thing stretching and dominating her insides was something she had allowed to be there.

Sparks seemed to flash across her vision, the room seeming to swim in and out of focus, the blank white ceiling undulating in waves around the fuzzy head that dominated her vision. When it came into focus, she could see her father looking back down at her with an animalistic grin spread across his muzzle. Elizabeth could feel him all around her, his hot breath puffing against her face, his thick musk settling against her fur and permeating nostrils that were now far to sensitive to it, his strong hands pinning her arms down against the bed and the rest of her sandwiched between the bedclothes beneath her and the undeniable weight of his torso pressing down from above. Her tail was pinned under her, twitching spastically against her back with each thrust, its tickling brushes only adding to her body's sense of being completely overwhelmed. The only part of her that was at all free was her legs, and even they were forcibly splayed open, seeming to stretch further apart with each thrust. There was no way to stop or lessen any of it, no way to move, nowhere to go, and she felt a wave of absolute despair that for a moment overwhelmed the other sensations. She was under her father's complete control, and could do nothing to stop him as he raped her, knowing what would inevitably happen. For a moment she felt on the verge of losing herself somehow, feeling helpless and weak and ashamed that her father would soon fully take her, her heated body unable to even cry out in protest or shed tears of sadness or anger, just react to the reverberating thrusts that rapidly dominated a mind that was further and further consumed with animalistic need.

Then Frand bottomed out with a thud, her inner lips suddenly taut and straining as the knot rammed against them, hard, hot flesh mashing against her already-stretched folds and grinding relentlessly against the sensitive nub they concealed, sending a shudder of horrible, anxious pleasure rocketing up her spine. Her hips struggled under him as her body seemingly tried to pull itself in multiple directions at once, the remnants of her conscious mind trying to struggle away from the even more intense violation that seemed poised to stretch her to the breaking point, while the fire inside her anticipated the tip driving in deeper to her hottest, most desperate parts. Frand didn't let up, though, pinning her even more tightly against the bed, his hips barely pulling back at all before bearing down with all of his strength to press the knot in harder against her. She felt her body yielding horribly, the ring of her inner lips feeling white-hot and taut as a bowstring as the knot pressed inexorably in, taut enough to send a flash of pain vibrating awfully out from between her legs and down her thighs as some part of her stretched beyond what she could accept. For a brief, awful moment, her entire body seemed to be somehow dislocated and disconnected from the way it should have been, and her chest instinctively swelled out in a desperate, gasping breath as everything seemed to surge forward all at once.

She yowled at the top of her lungs as the knot finally shoved in through her insanely-spread inner ridge, slamming and bulging like a clenched fist inside her. Her flesh stretched taut around him, her folds wrapped tightly against the base of the knot, its huge shape pressed into her in ways she had never imagined possible. Then, on top of it all, Frand somehow managed another thrust and it pushed in harder, the edge of the bulge grinding intensely and impossibly hot against her clit, the pressure beyond anything she could ever have imagined as it pushed her sensitive nub somehow deeper within her hot, wet folds. The sensation was beyond intense, pleasure that quickly and repeatedly flashed over into pain at the overwhelming stimulation, and she squirmed her hips in a desperate attempt to get the knot away from her most sensitive part before the grinding closeness went beyond what she could bear. They were so tightly locked together, though, that there was no way to pull back, and the feeling intensified, threatening to consume her, the knot seeming to grow even bigger and hotter as it rubbed mercilessly along her abused, agonizingly sensitive clit. There was nothing that she could do, and within a few moments the feeling of him pressing against and within her completely overwhelmed her senses. There was a moment of confusion where every single emotion possible seemed to flood across her mind at once, coalescing into a clear, focused shock of momentary, impossible agony that sent her entire body into spasm. Her spine arched sharply and her arms tensed and clawed against Frand's back as her insides seized, vibrating with bizarre, erotic tension around the shaft that violated them. The tension rolled outward, and her whole body shuddered, waves of hateful pleasure bursting out from between her legs as her body began to flutter uncontrollably around Frand, succumbing to his force and giving way to a perverse, pleasurable accommodation of him, pulsating and clutching at the shaft of white heat that stretched and filled every inch of her.

The forced climax continued to roll through her, her arms clutching weakly at the fur on Frand's back as her legs trembled and spasmed to either side, howling uncontrollably as he continued to grind forward against inner walls that throbbed instinctively around him. Through it all, Elizabeth could feel his hips tensing between her thighs, his fuzzy balls pulling up tight just below the bottom edge of her stretched, pulsing inner lips, but she was too far gone to protest, or even really to care, as her own father ground in against her. Her body, somehow, was no longer hers, just a trembling, quivering vessel that was on the verge of giving in completely, welcoming the warmth pressing in as deeply as possible as his body mover relentlessly closer to culminating his violation of her.

When it arrived, the final thrust was almost anticlimactic, despite Frand growling above her like a feral beast a moment before his hips pushed in as tightly as they could against her. The knot throbbed warmly against her stretched flesh as pulses of wet heat splashed inside her, again and again, her body throbbing and thrusting back against her wishes as the pulses continued unabated. The heat of his seed splashed up against the white-hot desperation already within her, feeling oddly calming as the pulsing liquid crashed and seeped through every last barrier to pool inescapably within her belly, a lasting, lingering reminder of her father's complete domination of her.

As the last vestiges of orgasm faded away, they revealed a feeling of creeping dread and despair that managed to chill despite the warmth that surrounded and permeated her. She felt Frand's arms wrap around her, pulling the both of them upright, hugging her close as Elizabeth settled weakly into his lap, her body still shivering from the overwhelming ordeal. She tensed uncomfortably as Frand pulled her back and ducked his head down to slide his tongue across one of her nipples, hating herself for thrilling at the sensation even as her body continued to strain around the knot buried tightly inside her. As Frand snuggled her close, nuzzling against her neck, the perverse juxtaposition of such a rare moment of genuine warmth, coupled with the continuing violation, brought her nearly to the brink of tears. She didn't deserve to feel warm, or comfortable, or loved after what had just happened to her. It would have been easier if it had really hurt, it it had left her broken and sobbing and bleeding, making it easy to come to terms with her father's heinous abuse. But it had barely hurt at all, only in moments, and then it had felt good and warm and somehow horribly right, and all she could feel was guilt and complicity and disgust - even more than anger at her father for what he had done, she felt disgust that her body had betrayed her and given in, her own instincts failing her and giving the monster that was her father free reign over her entire being. He didn't deserve to get to hug her after what he had just done, but as always there was nothing she could do, and no escape. She could have been brave, she could have run like Natalie had, but instead she'd delayed, and denied, and held out false hope, even as the fate that had now seized her had crept up, obviously and inevitably, its every approach seen so clearly and ignored so cowardly. She couldn't help but feel that her own choices had led to this, and that in some horrible way, being there, tied, in her father's rapist embrace, was exactly what she deserved. The only consolation, however slight, was that Frand had taken her instead of her sister - better that she, with her impure thoughts and careless cowardice, be sacrificed to her father's lust instead of her precious, innocent sister.

Finally, as she shamefully ceased to struggle in his embrace and the knot began to mercifully weaken its hold on her insides, she started as Frand whispered in her ear, the sound jarring as she realized that he had performed the entire assault without uttering a word, just pants and groans and growls as he used his body to convey what little he needed to express.

"Aw yeah, that's my girl. Just like your mother - struggling just enough to make it interesting before you give in so wonderfully and take it like a woman's supposed to. Your body already gets it, even if it takes the rest of you a while to catch up. You're a woman now, and now you know where a woman belongs - under the man who loves her protects her, and takes care of her needs. The sooner you get that, the sooner you understand that all of you belongs to me as the man of this house, the sooner you don't try to hide your need for me, the sooner we can go back to being a nice, happy family where everyone knows their place, and no one has to be forced because they know when to give what's needed."

Frand snuggled against her, his chest rubbing up against her sensitive, nearly-matured breasts, running a hand along her backside as he began to practically purr into her ear. "Yes, we're almost there - a nice, happy family, together again. Your sister will come into season soon, too, and once you both settle into your proper place under me, everything will work out. I'll take care of all three of you, and there will be no more need for school and other distractions, just our nice, cozy home, and each other." Frand reached between them, and patted gently at her belly. "And then one of you will give me a nice, healthy boy, and our family will be complete."

The words chilled her to the bone, as the last bit of denial faded away and the awareness of the warmth in her belly flooded back. She was in season, and pumped full of the seed that Frand had deposited and her body had been unable to refuse. Frand's prediction was already in danger of coming true - and if every night of her heat ended with the same result, it would be nothing short of certainty. Frand, though, would almost certainly not let her out of his sight in her current condition.

As reality sank in further, Elizabeth felt Frand shifting beneath her, and there was a soft pop from below as the knot finally pulled free and the shaft slid out of her abused insides, trailing a line of wetness along her inner thigh before it finally pulled away. Then Frand released her, and she slumped forward onto the bed, weak and shivering and violated and pathetic.

There was a shuffling of drawers off to the side, and a moment later Frand took hold of her legs, fabric pulling along them until it resolved into a pair of panties that Frand snugged into place around her hips. They were Naomi's, silky, differently cut, and not quite right, especially in what they signified: that she had taken Naomi's place as her father's plaything. They were followed by a shirt that was mercifully loose, and then she was propped on her feet, Frand undoing the chain and swinging the door open in front of her, not even bothering to hide his nakedness, his semi-flaccid cock still slick and glistening with their combined fluids. Then he reached back and gave her a firm smack on the butt, sending her stumbling and blinking into the brighter light of the hallway, shuffling forward on wobbly legs.

"Get some rest, now - gotta keep your stamina up for tomorrow. I can only imagine what you'll be dreaming about tonight..."

Frand's arrogant laughter chased her down the hallway and into her room, where she all but fell into her bed, curling her covers around her as the events of the evening played back through her mind again and again, Frand's cruelty paired with her own cowardice and betrayal, and within moments the tears were flowing, seemingly without end.

Eventually, though, she looked up to see Jessica's cute, loving face staring down at her, a hand extended to try to brush the tears away and make things better. Only there was no better now, just the same, unrelenting inevitability - and in a few short months, Jessica would be subjected to the same.

The thought of her sister struggling under Frand's violation sparked the first real sense of anger in her, a flare powerful enough to cut through her despair and fight through her tears. She shoved them aside, grabbed her sister by the shoulders, and begged her to run, to run far, to run fast, to find Natalie or to get away as cleanly as she had, anything to protect her from what Frand had in store. Jessica nodded in acknowledgement, still looking puzzled, and Elizabeth could only hope that her words had sunk in enough that Jessica would take action before Frand stole away her freedom as well. Just the thought of it, of her being taken by their fucked-up father while Elizabeth helplessly watched, was enough to send her into another torrent of wracking sobs, and she clung desperately to her sister's comforting embrace until her used and exhausted body finally succumbed to a nervous, dreamless sleep.

She was heartened the next day when she spied Jessica making a few furtive preparations, even though such an option was no longer available to her. Sure enough, Frand kept her home from school, and aside from the windowless bathroom, she was never allowed out of Frand's sight. That evening, he'd taken her back into the bedroom, the door barely closing before Frand yanked her panties down and jammed his fingers in between her legs until they came back wet. Elizabeth didn't bother making even a token attempt to resist, doing exactly as she was told, and letting her body give in to its venal instincts as her father rutted her, figuring that if she didn't struggle, Frand might take his time, and maybe, just maybe, Jessica might be able to get away clean. The gambit seemed to work, as Frand seemed to relish his dominance over her even more. He knotted and bred her twice; once as he had before, and once after forcing her onto all fours and making her present herself to him, before hooking his hands around the back of her thighs and rutting her relentlessly, gripping the loose nape of her neckfur with his teeth and taking her like a feral bitch. Elizabeth endured, though, even when he took her up in his arms and carried her back to her bedroom completely naked this time, holding her up beside her bed and thrusting into her a few times before looking over and noticing that Jessica wasn't there to watch him. He left the room, grumbling, as Elizabeth fell from his grasp and collapsed into her bed, only to hear his grumbling turn to growls and then to screams as the minutes went by.

Finally, Frand popped his head back into the room, a look of pure anger twisted across his face. "Why the hell do I only have one daughter that isn't a complete and total bitch? Just stay put, hun - your sister's gone and done something stupid, and when I drag her ass back here, she's gonna pay for being the second bitch to betray me. Just 'cuz she ain't in season doesn't mean I can't show her exactly where she belongs. And here I thought things were finally working out..."

Frand stormed off, pushing the door shut behind him, a sound that was followed by a thud and a scraping noise as he undoubtedly shoved something heavy in front of it to keep her inside. Then his footsteps faded, the front door slamming shut a moment later, and leaving her alone in sudden, eerie silence that the thin door rarely provided - a silence that was momentarily broken by the faint sound of a cork popping and liquid flowing, as Naomi took care of the situation the only way she knew how. Elizabeth, though, pulled herself up in bed, looked towards the ceiling and the stars she knew were beyond, and prayed to whoever might listen that her sister, the one person she wanted to protect above all else, would be able to escape her fate.