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The Leaves of Fall: Autumn Flowers

>"O-okay Anon, y-y-you ready?"

“This isn't going to work, you're way faster than I am," you say, looking around at all the dilapidated houses and industrial refuse

>You're in Sam's old neighborhood

>Because she wanted to show you a game her and her brother used to play

>"D-Don't say t-t-that. B-believe in the m-me that believes in y-you."

“Okay Kamina, whatever you say."

>"W-who?"

>Jesus Christ, this poor girl, there's still so much she hasn't seen

>That's right

>Girl

>Sam, the androgynous Mini-Rex rabbit on the other side of the street, is a girl

>Or, more accurately, a woman, with messy unkempt hair that covers her eyes

>Eyes, like two bowls of dark, glowing honey, now focused on what's behind her

>Ears that hang low off her skull – ears she still twists when she gets nervous, but not so much any more

>You eye Sam up and down while she's distracted, waiting for the car to come

>Her lithe feminine body has filled out a bit, but not by much, evidenced in the way her (new) jeans fit her a lot better than her brother's baggy old clothes

>And the way they accentuate the prominence of her haunches

>Even if it's unintentional

>Even if it's not much

>It's more of Sam than you've ever seen

>Though she's still got most of her upper torso hidden inside an olive-green sweater that's a little bit too big for her

>The sleeves cover her small hands, which you think is kinda cute

>And you think she does too

>Huh

>Sam finding herself worthy of being cute

>Now there's something you didn't' see happening all those months ago

>You hear a distant murmur of an engine and snap back to reality

>Fast-approaching behind you, gleaming in the chill air of an autumnal Saturday, is the windshield of a car

>You set yourself low, as does Sam, like one big compressed spring ready to explode forward

“This was your idea, remember," you remind Sam

>She flashes a weak, slightly-nervous smile at you, and then narrows her gaze directly ahead, waiting for the car to catch up to you two

>You can't believe her and her brother used to do this

>If you were driving this would scare the shit out of you

>Whatever

>The car is visible now

>It's an old rusted sedan, a general piece of shit, with a cracked windshield too dark to see the driver from the outside

>It looks… oddly familiar?

“GO!" you scream

>Without permission from Sam, you dart into the middle of the street, legs burning and churning already tired from the exertion

>You pretend the car is chasing you as you pump your knees nearly up to your chest, throw your head back and let loose a yowl

>You slam your eyes shut and tear forward as hard and as fast as you can, certain that only vehicular manslaughter is right behind you should you slow down even an inch

>And you start counting…

>One second

>Your lungs burn

>Two seconds

>The car behind you lays on the horn as it quickly matches your pace

>Three seconds

>Now it's your legs that burn, choked and full of lactic acid

>God you were never good in gym

>Alex might have a better shot, that lanky commie

>Four seconds

>You open your eyes, expecting to see Sam about a mile ahead of you

>But you don't

>It's just you and that empty, unkempt road, likely glitter with broken bottles of some drunken night

>And behind you?

>The revving of an engine, the shriek of a horn

>Where the hell is Sam?

>The heat of the car directly behind you is now palpable

>Five seconds

>That's about all you can do – a maintained, wild five seconds

>Six seconds

>You throw yourself to the right as hard as you can

>You practically cannonball into the sidewalk, face wonderfully mashed into the grime and cold concrete

>This was a mistake

>The shriek of a car horn forces you to sit up

>And all at once, like a bomb going off in your brain, it all comes back to you

>That night at the old white oak door church

>The car that followed you home after your house was trashed

>You recognize the car you just tried to outrun like

>It's…

>It's Sam's dad's

>The passenger side window rolls down and your heart is practically vibrating in your chest – not from the exercise either

>But from an aged fear

>You can feel rough hands, taste the crush of metal and the salt of your blood in your mouth after being properly pistol-whipped for the first (and hopefully only) time in your life

>The smell of whiskey

>But it's not Sam's dad behind the wheel

>It's an old wolf

>His gray fur is nearly white, and he's wearing thick-rimmed glasses, betraying his poor eyesight

>"What the HELL do you think you're doing!?" he roars at you

>You don't meet his accusing gaze

>You can't take your eyes off the car

>It's like seeing a ghost in broad daylight

>"I could have killed you, you know that?" the old wolf continues. “I almost didn't see you with how bad my eyes- never mind."

“Sorry," you mumble

>But you're not sorry

>You mean, not really sorry. You're feeling a whole lot of something else right now

>You look up in to the wolf's cataracts, his scowl, and see the whiteness of his eyes

>Their tiredness

>Their fury and yet their kindness

>Honestly, one look at this guy and you can tell he's a nice mammal – just a little pissed off right now

>He's right to be angry, you know?

“Can I ask you a question?"

>"A question? Why don't you answer some question-“

“Where did you get this car?"

>"At an auction damnit, now why were did you jump out in front of me like that!?"

>You shake your head and look down the street

>Sam is a small, olive-green blur down the length of the sidewalk

“Sorry sir, just some kids doing some really dumb shit," you shrug

>And that's all he's going to get

>He starts to say something else, but you're already walking towards Sam, brushing yourself off from the gutter grime and accumulated dirt

>The old car hums there on the side of the road for a few more seconds before aching back down the street – likely on the lookout for more stupid kids trying to race cars

>Sam is where you left her

>Her hands tease at her ears ever so slightly, and you can't help but notice the way they're quaking

>And that's okay

“So, I guess that means I win, right?" you venture

>To your surprise, Sam nods in agreement

>"G-guess you win this r-r-round."

>You shrug, noticing the distinct ache in your body

>Ever since last Halloween you've been a lot more tender in the bone

>Your muscles ache more

>And your headaches?

>They could put down an elephant

>Probably from the metal plate in your cracked skull

“Sam, I don't think I can handle a round two. Are you saying you and Jacob used to do this for fun?"

>Looking around, as if suddenly aware of her surroundings Sam gives a faint nod, sending her feathered hair over her eyes

>"W-well it was e-e-easier for m-me and him, because well, y-y-you know…"

>She lifts up one of her legs

>That much is obvious

>You drop down onto the cement sidewalk and she follows suit, falling with all the gravity of a feather pillow

>No sense in dancing around it

>This is Sam's old neighborhood

>But why?

>Why did she bring you here?

“I take it you recognized that car?"

>Sam nods

>Your left hand starts snaking its way over to Sam's resting right hand

>With enough stealth you can sneak your hand into hers like you're smuggling your heart inside her body

>But much to your disappointment, she retracts her hand and begins to stroke at her ears

>"I-I don't know h-how, but that w-was my dad's old c-c-car. I w-would recognize i-it anywhere," she says, casting her golden eyes about, drinking in her surroundings

>She at last settles on you, and you smile

>But she doesn't return the gesture

>"I-I'm sorry, A-Anon. I j-just froze up wh-when I saw that p-piece of shit."

“Lotta memories attached to that rustbucket, huh?"

>She nods at you

>"P-painful memories. N-not like w-w-with your car. Th-those are happy m-memories," she says, before turning her attention back on the houses

>You lean back

>You've noticed that ever since this October has rolled around, she's gotten a lot more…

>Distant?

>You watch as leaves are brushed down the road by the wind, like an orange and yellow storm

>All the clatter

>None of the thunder

>You can't blame her for being distant this time of year

>And in this part of town

>You'd be trapped in your memories as well

>It was still high afternoon, and though the sun was beating down on you, the air was chilled and cold, and the wind didn't help either

>You glance at your own parked car just a few feet away

“Wanna go home, Sam?"

>She shakes her head

>Wat

>"N-not yet. A-actually th-there was so-something I w-w-wanted to do here…"

>She turns her focus down to her feet

>Away from you

>"B-But I didn't wa-want to do it a-a-alone."

“What did you have in mind?"

>Oh

>OHHHH

>You know where you are, and just being here brings you back to that night almost a year ago

>When you dropped Sam off at her house for the first time

>You're idling in your car outside of a dilapidated, one-story house, encircled by a chain-link fence

>The “yard" is just a barren patch of dirt covered in old leaves and garbage

>There's a “For Sale" sign out in the yard, but given how long you know it's been there you don't think this is going to change any time soon

>Property out here isn't exactly selling like hotcakes

>You turn to Sam, who is waiting in the passenger seat, intently focused on her old home

“You sure about this?" you say, a questioning tone creeping in to your voice. “I mean, what if it's locked?"

>"Y-yeah. T-this is so-something I need to do."

>She pauses, her hands on the seatbelt

>She turns to you with a somewhat-rattled expression, and then, with a pleading in her voice, something that reminds you of the old Sam, she squeaks, “Come with me?"

>And as you expected, it's fucking locked

>Of course it's locked!

>Nobody wants some weirdos (like you two) breaking in to foreclosed and bank-owned property

>But Sam has other plans

>She starts digging along the side of the concrete stoop

>Rabbits, you guess

>She emerges not with a carrot, but with triumphant and dirty paws

“Burrowing instincts?" you joke

>Sam shakes her head ever-so-slightly

>She holds up a gleaming silver key to you

>Well, it's not really “gleaming" because it's caked in dirt and mud, but it might as well be gleaming

>"F-f-f-for when d-d-dad would p-pass out and I g-g-got home l-late," she explains

>She turns towards the door and summons a few fortifying breaths

>You place your palm on her back as if to keep her from collapsing

>She stares at the door, stubborn

>Older now

>Different, changed

>Grown

>Like old brick buildings in abandoned factory towns, remaining standing, borne on the refusal to crumble into waste and masonry

>She puts the key into the lock

>And opens the door

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l2k7SjfT7mc

>The inside of Sam's house is barren

>Not that you're surprised

>Everything was likely cleared out after Sam's father stopped making payments and the bank repossessed the property

>But even just standing in the entryway, you can still feel the suffocation

>The gashes and dents on the inside of the door

>The shadows of faded paint left by old furniture pressed up against the wall

>Their imprints on the disgusting carpet, as if they were still in here

>Like ghosts

>Christ, it even still smells like stale cigarette smoke

>You follow Sam in to what must be the kitchen, fading orange sunlight now filtering in through the windows, heralding a quick dusk's arrival

>Sam turns around and looks behind you

>At the entrance to the kitchen

>You follow her gaze

>Strange

>There's a bullet hole punched in to the frame

“Do you know about that?" you ask, nodding towards the door

>She nods back

>"J-Jacob a-almost killed my d-d-dad-“

“Seriously?"

>"R-right where yo-you're standing."

>Embarrassingly enough, you jump back, as if expecting to see a huge pool of blood beneath your feet

>But it's just old and dusty tile

>Sam just looks tired, distant, trapped in the grasp of a memory

>You try and collect yourself a bit

“Is it wrong to say that I don't find that surprising?"

>"What?" she says, shaking herself out of her memory

“That your older brother tried killing your dad? I mean, I only met him a couple of times and I'd have done the same thing."

>Sam shakes her head

>"I-I don't think Jacob c-c-could have ever g-gone through with i-it. He was a l-lot like d-d-dad…"

“In the worst way?" you say, finishing her sentence

>She nods

>"B-but there w-was a p-part of h-him that was b-better than dad… t-that part of h-him that tried to keep m-me safe, make me t-t-tough. T-that's the J-Jacob I choose to r-remember."

>You offer a smile

“I think you did that all by yourself."

>"W-what?"

“Kept yourself safe, I mean. I think you were doing that even after Jacob was gone."

>She offers a weak, unsteady smile in return, like she doesn't entirely believe what you have to say

>Sam walks past you, as quiet as a mouse, her attention fixed on… well… everything?

>You know she hasn't been back here since… well… you rescued her

>Or did she really rescue herself?

>It doesn't matter now, right?

>And-

>Hey

>Where'd she go?

>You were so fixated on the bullet hole above the frame in the kitchen that you lost her

>You venture out into the narrow hallway, still half-expecting to see Sam's dad standing in the door

>But it's just empty

>And kinda cold

>You find Sam in a barren room, staring at the walls

>It doesn't look like she's even noticed you were here

>Ahhhh now this is familiar to you

>This is her old room

>Though all her tacked-up drawings have long since come down and been trashed by the bank's contractors, the holes in the walls are still there

>You remember being in this room while she frantically rushed around, trying to save her drawings and comic books in a backpack which you refused to take with you

“Hey," you say, rapping on her window

>Sam jumps a few feet into the air

“Sorry-“

>"O-oh, yo-you're okay… I just g-g-got a bit lost in my h-head."

“Remember when you jumped out this window to escape?" you say

>A slight smile crosses her face

>"I r-remember. I also r-r-remember when you k-kicked my d-dad in the face."

>You shrug

“It had to be done."

>"You sh-shoulda kicked him h-harder," Sam murmurs, returning her focus to the walls

>You sigh

“Sam, it's getting late. What did you come here for?"

>The sun was well on its way down by now

>And it was starting to get REALLY cold

>Plus, your head was starting to ache again

>"I u-used to have c-c-comic b-books… my b-brother's o-old ones… a-and I was hoping they w-would st-still be here…"

>You sigh

“C'mon, really? We came here for comic books? Of course they're not going to be here."

>Sam flashes a hurt look as she shrinks into her sweater

>Fuck

>You sometimes forget how fragile she is

>"S-sorry. Y-you're right. I-it was s-silly to think th-they'd still be h-here. T-they're p-probably in the d-dump right n-now," she says with a defeated sigh

>"B-but this isn't j-just about the c-c-c-c-comic books. I wa-wanted to b-be here a-again. O-one more t-time."

>"O-on my t-terms. N-not on h-his. N-not ag-against my w-will."

>What was that about being fragile, Anon, you retard?

>This time Sam smiles at you, a weak smile, but there's an anxious strength behind it

>"W-we can g-g-go now, A-Anon. I-I'm ready to go h-h-home."

>You drive home in near-silence, gunning your car out of Sam's neighborhood

>You don't talk much – you don't need to

>Instead, you sneak a few glances over at her during stops in traffic

>She looks exhausted

>More so than usual

>As if her mind is full up on storms, and she's tired of weathering them

>You know, she really has come a long way

>And she still has a long way to go

>And no matter how hard she tries, some scars will never, ever heal

>And that's okay

>Like a broken jar, you can put the pieces back together

>But it will never be perfect again (if it ever was to begin with)

>It's not like that matters

>You love that about her

>The history you share

>The wounds she wears

>She's stronger than she thinks

>And you just wish she'd realize that

>Your house is empty when you and Sam get home

>Not a surprise – it's Saturday

>Still, Sam has to ask

>"W-where are your p-parents?" she squeaks

>You take a sip of Dr. Bepper and set the can down on your granite countertops

>A stark contrast from Sam's old house

“Mom is at 'book club' which is really just an excuse for old white women to sit around and get drunk and gossip."

“Dad is out at a car show downtown doing boomer shit, probably getting drunk as well."

>Sam looks confused

>"Y-You need an excuse to g-g-g-get drunk?"

>Oh

>Right

>You take another awkward sip of your Dr. Bepper

>"N-not in my f-f-family," she says with a surprisingly candid tone. “W-w-we d-don't let society h-hold us b-back."

“Just you versus poverty right Sam?"

>She giggles

>"A-a-and the a-abuse."

>Jesus that got dark real fast

>But even if it is a dark subject, Sam seems to be approaching it with a surprising amount of levity

>Still, you aren't sure how to proceed

>Like… do you joke along with her?

>It's hard to broach these things, and you still feel like you're trying to disarm a nuclear warhead with a hammer sometimes

>"B-but you kn-know," she says, now setting her can down on the counter, “i-it wasn't always the p-physical a-a-abuse that g-g-got to me."

>Perhaps without thinking, she lifts up her sweater, exposing her midriff and tummy

>Her thin frame, padded in fur, barely strains against her jeans

>"I-It was the h-h-hunger. D-dad n-never kept f-f-food in the h-house after m-mom l-left, and I w-wasn't high on t-the list of priorities s-s-so…"

“Yeah, you're built like a bird, Sam. And I mean that in a nice way – I promise."

>"O-one meal a day will d-d-do that to y-you," she says. And then without warning, she asks:

>"D-do you c-care if I'm t-t-too skinny?"

“What?"

>"I m-mean, other m-mammals are t-t-t-t-t-t-t-“

“Thick?"

>"Y-yeah, t-thick. And I-I'm…?"

>She trails off

“A stick, Sam. You're a pear-shaped stick. And you're my stick."

You set your can down and wrap your arms around Sam, bringing her in for a protest-free hug

>She gasps a little as you practically envelop her

>And there it is

>That familiar delicacy that you've come to know as Samantha “Sam" Garlen, against you, her face pressed involuntarily in to your chest

>You feel her start to squeak and shake, like a mouse caught in a trap, but frankly, you don't feel like letting go

>It feels… good… to hold her like this

>You haven't in a long, long time

>But she doesn't melt into you like you expect

>She remains rigid

>You look down at her, and she beams up at you, her eyes huge and shot-wide, unsure of what to do

>You'd have thought that after almost a year of dating you'd have been past this

>But…

>You sigh internally

>…Things like this might take more time than you think

“S-Sorry," you say, at last freeing her from your grasp

>You don't really understand her

>At least today

>First it was 'let's go do this dangerous thing!'

>And then it was 'bravely go back in to my abusive childhood home!'

>But now she can't even be hugged?

>"A-anon?" she says, with that familiar, shuddering yaoi breath

“Sam?" you say, pretty nonchalantly

>"I w-want to do s-s-something f-f-for you," she says

>The way she's looking up at you

>That blush high in her cheeks

>The sparkle in her eyes

>Her heavy breathing

>Your heartbeat starts to quicken, and all of the sudden you're thinking with the lesser of two heads

>She can't mean…

>No…

“I-I think I want that too, Sam. Are you sure?"

>She nods, very slowly, as if only now just becoming certain herself of the intentions written in her heart

>"I a-a-a-a-am."

>"Y-you g-g-gotta measure the m-milk properly o-or else it g-g-gets all watery," Sam says, pouring a glass of milk into a measuring cup

>On the stove a pot of macaroni noodles dance in a rolling boil

>And at the dinner table, somewhat disappointed, but still excited for Sam's cooking is you, Anonymous, watching your bunny gf dart around the kitchen

>You were kinda hoping you were going to get… lucky…

>But hey macaroni and cheese is a good alternative

>Right?

>Sam though… Sam looks beyond happy with herself

>Even with the mundane task that is pouring pasta water down the sink

>That glint in her eyes, the smile on her face

>The way she squeaks with excitement as you point out your strainer to her?

>That's almost as good as losing your virginity

>A few minutes later, Sam sets a bowl of cheap mac and cheese in front of you

>She takes her place next to you, a bowl of her own

>Normally you're at the dining hall at your college, but since you started coming home for the weekends to see Sam, you've gotten accustomed to family dinners with her and mom and dad

>This…

>This is better

>"I u-used to make t-this for my b-brother almost e-every night," she explains. “D-dad w-would never eat it t-t-though. I h-hardly saw him e-eat."

>You put your fork down, almost into your inaugural bite

“No kidding?"

>Sam takes a large mouthful of plasticy yellow cheese

“P-poverty. T-this s-s-stuff is l-like less than a d-dollar at the s-s-store and even I can m-make it."

>You take a huge bite of Sam's poverty meal, in a kitchen that likely cost the same as her childhood house

>The dichotomy is… cheesy

>Sam, on the other hand, eats in slow and careful bites

>She isn't as ravenous as she used to be now that she lives with your family

>Among people who care about her, and provide her (in abundance) with the barest necessities like food and shelter

>And love

>Well, you do that part

>Your Saturday evening with Sam couldn't have been more mundane

>The two of you drop onto the couch together after dinner concludes and the dishes are put away

>Christ, what is there to even do around here?

>How does Sam occupy her free-time when she's not in school or working?

>Sam sits an appreciable distance away from you as you pull up an old classic on the TV – Donnie Darko

>You sit down next to her, and pull her in

>She's as stiff as ever, her body a livewire of shaking tension

>Fuck you, bunny

>You want to struggle?

>You get the snuggle

>But it's of little use

>The whole time you've got her next to you it feels like she's somewhere else, lost in her head

>It was this way in the kitchen too, and her old house

>And that?

>That kinda hurts

>You pull back from her, now feeling stung in that space between your ribs

“Can I ask you something?"

>Your finger finds the remote and you pause the movie

“Is there something wrong?"

>"W-what?"

“Seriously, is there something wrong? Anything wrong? You've been acting so… standoffish today."

>A shock of brown hair falls over Sam's eyes, but she doesn't brush it aside

>You can tell she's studying you

>She isn't…

>Thinking about ending it?

>Oh fuck

>Is that why she's been acting so strange today?

>She can't do that; she wouldn't have anywhere to go!

>She'd be homeless

>And you've awkwardly trapped her in another bad housing situation by choosing to be with her

>Christ, this is how this kinda shit happens to people isn't it?

>Always special circumstances

>And the victim waiting on disaster to strike

>But, what if you yourself are that disaster?

>"I-I w-want to take a s-shower," she says, quite suddenly

>Sam rises from the couch with little grace, wobbling as she does so

>She pulls up her jeans around her wiry frame and throws one last look over at you

>There's a sad attempt at a smile that dies on her lips

>It's over, isn't it?

>You sit in your room head buried in your pillow

>What did you do wrong?

>You swear, you've done everything you're supposed to

>You've been a good boyfriend

>You've even been a good human being

>And now she just wants to end it?

>You smother a scream in your throat

>The hiss of the shower helps to drown out some of the chastising voices in your head

>You can't believe that just a wall away Sam is in there, trying to decide how she's going to break the news to you

>You can almost hear her say it

>"A-Anon, I t-t-think we n-need to see o-o-other p-people."

>Christ, and you thought an inter-species relationship could work!?

>"A-Anon I c-c-can't be with a h-h-human."

>"A-Anon, I l-love you b-b-but-“

>"Anon"

>"Anon"

>"A-Anon"

>You lift your head and turn over in your bed

>Sam is

>HOLY SHIT

>Sam is standing in the entrance to your room wearing nothing but a towel practically up to her shoulders

>Her fur is sopping wet

>Her cheeks are BURNING red, and she can't quite meet your gaze

>"A-Anon?" she squeaks, not so much nervous/embarrassed as she is… scared?

>…

“Sam?"

>"I-I have so-something I want to s-show you."

>Ya think?

>You sit up in your bed and watch as Sam's towel falls to the floor in a big pile around her feet

>There you behold Sam's naked body

>But it's not what you expect

>Your eyes aren't immediately drawn to the tender swell of her breasts, the pinkness of her nipples, the bow of her hips

>But to the welts and scars from past abuse

>The most prominent of them being a few nasty burn marks high up on her right shoulder

>It looks like a cluster of small rings – as if someone had held a car's cigarette lighter against her skin for some time

>At her hips there's some missing fur and discoloration, likely where a few nasty hits landed that never quite healed

>Travel further inward and there's the same pattern on her inner thighs, where someone might not think to look for signs of abuse and violence

>These are old, old wounds

>You're reminded again of the broken jar – how you can put all the pieces back together, but it will never be perfect again

>What you're seeing now, standing nervously in the entrance to your room, is more than just a bashful and nervous female rabbit

>You're seeing her fracture marks

>Where the imperfections and cracks had been etched into her tender skin

>Where she bore all the pain and the hurt

>Where she shattered

>"I-I k-know it-it's not p-p-pretty, b-but I w-wanted you to s-s-see me."

>Heavy breathing

>"A-all o-of me. I w-w-want to l-learn to let g-go of what he d-d-did to me."

>You scan her up and down

>Eyes passing over the wetness of her fur

>The slenderness of her shoulders, their roll, her pinched in torso and bowed out hips

>Prominent thighs and haunches

>The bareness of her sex, a pink slit against the chestnut-brown of her fur

>In fact, after a few seconds, you hardly even notice the scars

>The welts

>The burn marks

>After a few silent and awkward seconds, Sam lightly rests her arm across her meager chest as she bends over to pick up her towel

>"S-s-sorry I s-s-should g-g-go and g-g-get d-dressed," she says, voice shaking. “This w-was a b-b-b-bad idea."

>You're so dumbstruck by her beauty, so blind-sighted by the blood pulsing in your body, that you almost forget to stop her

>Almost

“Sam, wait, wait," you say, now sitting all the way up on your bed

>The bunny pauses and looks up at you

>She looks like she's about to cry, but is holding it back

>Like levies holding back a riptide

>You pat the bed

“Come on, sit down for a second."

>She bends over to pick up the towel

“Without the towel, Sam."

>She scampers over to the bed with one last look at the towel, and plops down, her tender frame hardly making an imprint t in the sheets

>You turn to face her, staring deeply into her eyes

>And then your attention flicks to the burn marks on her shoulders

“Can I?"

>You lift a finger

>Looking down at her feet, she nods

>You gingerly grab under her arm, and can feel the quaking in her body

>Your heart really goes out to her

>You draw your index finger very slowly around her burn marks, where the fur never grew back, where the skin scarred over

>They're quite prominent, and there's quite a lot of them

>The flesh feels coarse and gritty, all the things which flesh should not feel

>"T-t-they never h-h-healed properly," Sam wheezes as you continue to feel for yourself the ages of pain she's held onto on her body

“You've never been to a doctor for this either?"

>She shakes her head

>Of course she's never been to a doctor

>"C-car cigarette l-l-l-lighter," she says, exhaling another held, nervous breath. “J-Jacob and I t-t-t-tried to r-r-run away. Dad wa-wasn't happy."

>You say nothing as your touch travels down

>Beneath her pert breasts she's missing a good bit of fur as well, with a faded sear mark

>"C-clothes iron," she wheezes as your fingers delicately trace the shadow of her abuse. “M-mom g-g-got caught c-c-cheating… s-she t-took it out o-on me."

>Your eyes drop between her legs

>You notice some old welts and bruises that never properly healed on her inner thighs

>She notices you looking

>You flick your eyes upwards

“You don't have to if you don't want to. I won't make you show me."

>"N-no. T-this is s-s-something I've n-needed to d-d-d-do for a long t-t-time," she says

>Though her heavy thighs and powerful legs tremble, she parts them, ever so slightly, not only revealing the pink slit of her womanhood, but of the darker fur that never quite healed properly

>"D-dad u-used to g-g-get me with the b-b-belt right th-there. L-less o-obvious."

“You never fought back, did you?"

>She gasps as you touch her inner thigh

>"T-t-t-this is me f-fighting back," she says with a strained expression

>Her eyes flutter shut

>Her legs part even wider, and though you hate yourself for it, you can't help but notice the way her outer lips glisten with moisture – be it from the shower or from the excitement

>"I-I k-know it's not p-pretty," she grunts as you lightly touch her bruised thighs, “b-b-but I w-w-want you t-t-t-to s-see me w-w-without s-“

“Shame?" you say, looking up at her, though she refuses to meet your eyes

>She turns her head upward and swallows a hard lump in her throat

“Are you ashamed of what happened to you, Sam?"

>After a few seconds of hesitation, she says, “N-no. I d-didn't d-deserve what happened t-to me. N-neither did J-Jacob."

>You sit back on the bed

“Can I show you something?"

>She nods

>You grab her trembling hand and place at the back of your skull

>She gasps, just high enough to be heard, but low enough to be quiet

>"I-is t-t-this from H-Halloween?" she says, now freely feeling the metal plate in the back of your once-shattered skull

“It is. From when Vanessa nearly killed me. Hurled me against the door and across the school a few times. I mean, it's less serious than what you've got – but it's a part of me I want you to know about."

>"I-I was t-there. Y-you fought bravely, A-Anon."

“Something that matters, right?"

>You roll back your sleeve and hold up your pale flesh to the light

>The crooked line of an old slash mark still shows

>A scar that will never heal

“From when I slashed my wrist to undo the ritual. All that blood in the basin. You remember?"

>Still fixated on your scar, Sam nods

“They told me it'd never heal."

>"I k-know h-how that goes. I-I'll always h-have these u-ugly s-s-scars and w-w-welts and marks," she says, drawing a delicate finger around her burn marks

>Okay Anonymous

>Now is where you say it:

“They're not ugly. At all. They're painful parts of your story, just like my headplate and wrist scar is. Not on the same level, but they're parts of who you are and who I am, as cliché as that sounds. Same with your stutter."

>"M-my s-stutter?"

“I used to hate it. And if you want to get rid of it I support you, but right now, I think it's beautiful… because it's yours."

>Your throat starts to tighten, like a pleasant, soppy vise around your neck

>Don't cry, you big bitch

“Goddamnit you dumb bunny. I think you're beautiful. And I love you. Even the s-stutter."

>She giggles a little, her posture visibly relaxing, the iron-rod straightness of her spine melting into…

>A macaroni noodle?

>"I-it's p-pretty bad isn't i-it?"

“Y-yes, it i-i-is," you fire back with a smirk

>She lightly punches you on the arm

“W-well f-f-fuck you t-t-t-too, you h-hairless a-ape."

“C'mon, us hummies can't be that bad, can we?"

>"N-no g-good in a r-r-race," she says, now counting off the ways humans are inferior to rabbits

>No fur

>Can't run fast

>No cute tails (she makes a point of pointing to her own poofy tail)

>Not even the strongest omnivore

>"A-and y-y-you o-only have like t-two or t-three p-pups!" she says at last, absentmindedly counting her fingers

>You lean in awfully close and stitch a shit-eating grin to your dumb, sentimental face

“First off, they're called babies…" you say

>Sam Shrinks away from you, only just a little, face glowing red, as if she suddenly remembered she is naked and on your bed

>Dumb bunny

“Second: is that a challenge?"

>…

>…

>She can't look at you, and you can't tell if that's cute or annoying

>Her eyes go to the ceiling, like the answer to that question is written on the walls

>Her hands go to her ears again, and she wrings them like they're wet

>"W-w-w-w-well I w-w-w-was hoping we c-could…"

>She trails off, looking to you at last, if only to complete her request

>Well, it takes two to tango, right?

>And besides

>You've seen porn and romance and stuff

>You've got this in the bag

>As if to answer her, you lean in close, your lips nearly touching

“Seriously is this oka-“

>She doesn't give you a reply

>But she does give you a delicate, prolonged kiss on the lips

>Not forceful, not venturing, but long enough

>The way a butterfly or humming bird might linger on a flower and then depart without so much as shaking the stem

>With as much delicacy as she afforded you, you cup the back of her head and start to lean in to her, still kissing, prompting her to lean forward in response – like two logs resting against each other in the fire

>You edge your body forward, against hers

>And for a moment, you break the kiss

>She's already tense, breathing hard, staring up at you, expectant

>"W-was that a-a-alright?" she whispers like a shy schoolgirl

“It was perfect."

>You go in for another kiss and she responds in kind

>The key here is moving slow

>But not too slow

>You saw this next move in a movie once

>Or you read about it on an imageboard

>You forget

>Everything is a big, beautiful blur in your head right now, your heart throwing itself against your ribs so bad you're shaking

>The feeling must be mutual, because Sam is shaking too

>That's probably what prompts you to kiss your way down her neck – the nerves

>And boy does it pay off in spades

>The minute your lips part pull at the fur at the side of her cheeks Sam lets out a small gasp

>Smiling, satisfied with your new discovery, you kiss further and further down her neckline, and the deeper you go, the more little squeaks and gasps you tease out from her

>Okay Anonymous, it sounds like you're playing the game correctly

>Now comes the big moment of truth

>You dip low and kiss at her collarbone

>Sam starts fidgeting, her powerful thighs grinding together ever-so-slightly

>Maybe she doesn't think you see her

>But you do

>All in time, though

>First…

>Using your left hand, you palm her breasts, running your hand over them, pausing to squeeze just a little, like they might pop if you squeeze too hard

>You trace a circle around her now prominent and budding nipple, which glows especially pink against the chestnut coloring of her fur

>And then, without even thinking, you pop her other nipple into your mouth, sucking lightly

>That…

>That was a good idea

>Sam gasps, eyes shooting open, and you feel her hands at the back of your head, pushing you against her

>"C-c-c-c-c-c-careful," she whines. “T-t-t-they're s-s-s-s-sensitive."

>Your tongue encircles the flatness of her areola, and each sensitive centimeter it travels earns another whimper out of the bun

>You totally see why people do this

>This is awesome

>And given the stiffening rush of blood to your groin, you're enjoy this almost as much as Sam

>Instinct drives you

>You slide your hand down her body

>Lower

>And lower

>And lower, rounding out the fullness of her hips

>Letting it travel to her quaking thighs

>And your fingers pass over the spot with the welts and the missing fur

>You look up in to her strained eyes, mouth full of bunnybreast

>She nods and bites her lower lip as your probing touch finds its way to her wet sex

>The minute your fingertips make contact with her buzzing clit she seems to melt into you, a weak gasp and her trembling thighs the only sign that she's still with you on this good earth

>Nice

>So you decide to spend a few precious seconds encircling her clit – almost like a joystick, really, in the way that you can give the lightest of touches and send a shiver up Sam's frail body

>Like you can control her

>With a gentle persuasion, you push her back down against the bed, a free hand of yours still working her clit in gentle circles

>And that's when you get an idea

>You start kissing your way down her chest

>To that spot below her ribcage

>To her slight, fuzzy tummy

>Then down

>Further…

>…To her thighs, planting kisses and little nibbles as you go

>And it's there, between her legs, you notice that her nimble thighs are practically threaded together by thin, gossamer strands of the juices now leaking from her swollen pussy in volume

>It's been a long time coming, Anonymous

>You can no longer wait to get your eager mouth between her legs

>You've always wondered how pussy tasted anyway

>The smell is pretty normal… it just smells like wet fur

>You close your eyes

>Grab her by her protruding hips

>Pull your face forward

>Stick your tongue out

>And

>Like an amateur, you give her one, long, shivering lick, from her slit to her clit

>Huh

>It tastes like…

>peaches

>Slightly sweet, not very bitter

>A whole lot of wetness and fluids though

>You've already got Sam all over your face

>Sam isn't shy about how much she liked that

>As you lick her again, foolishly not ambling for her clit like you should, she bows her back, paws digging in to the sheets like they're he only things keeping her on planet earth

>She croons low, letting a pleasurable gasp roll out of the hollows of her chest

>You spread her legs apart even wider and start lapping at her wet pussy, slurping and sucking like it was the last, most delicious fruit on the planet

>Out of (lucky) curiosity, your tongue ventures upwards and you give her buzzing clit an experimental flick

>Sam throws both of her hands over her mouth to try and contain her squeaking pleasure

>Jackpot

>You delicately flick her clit again

>And again

>And again

>And again

>And each time you bring Sam higher and higher off the bed

>Until you decide to go all out and lightly suck her now engorged clit into your mouth

>"O-o-oh my G-G-God!" Sam squeaks, only to silence herself with a palm over her mouth

>And you try to look up, your face glistening from her juices

>And she looks down at you

>And there are actual tears in her eyes

>It gives you pause

“Sam? Is everything-“

>A hand at the back of your head

>Delicate

>Where your metal plate is

>She pushes you back against her quivering body

>"P-please…"

>And you know what she's going to say next:

>"D-don't stop."

>Well, the lady did ask nicely

>You put your mouth over her clit and begin to lick and suck at it, clumsily, you might add

>It's not a natural motion for you, but Sam doesn't seem to mind

>By this point she's started gyrating her hips in a slow, gentle circle, squeaking and biting her fingers to keep quiet with every one of your ministrations

>Your hands can't help but feel… useless…

>Why not try something else you read on an imageboard?

>With all the expediency of a turtle on Xanax, you slide a finger between her outer lips

>And man, it slides in like Sam's trying to pull you inside

>So…

>THIS is what a vagina feels like

>You could have been putting your dick inside of these things all throughout high school but you chose video games and drinking with your friends

>…

>Pushing past the lingering regrets, you press your probing finger deeper in to her, feeling the tightness of her walls collapsing around you

>Jesus

>Bunpucci can make a man crazy

>You pump your finger in and out of her while working her clit over with your tongue, your face glistening from her juices

>Each of your movements seems to push her closer and closer to the edge

>It's funny, when you flick your tongue around her clit, you can physically feel her insides clench around your fingers

>And if that wasn't enough of a sign, she's pretty much ripped up your bed with her hands by this point, and it's only through sheer effort alone that she hasn't started having a seizure of some kind

>You're not even GOOD at this, you think

>Like this is your first time

>She must be especially sensitive

>Probably stopped taking her estrus pills and scent blockers since

>Still, you double down on her clit, and to show this poor bun you mean business, you pump your finger faster and faster into her quivering sex

>"A-A-Anoooonnnn," she whines, rather loudly

>"Anon I think I-“

>You feel her body seize up, her inner walls clenching around your finger intense spasms

>It's like being hugged by a huge wall of wet velvet

>But the contractions of Sam's orgasm are too intense, and she actually manages to squeeze you out of her pussy

>Her bunny legs start thumping and beating against the bed at lightspeed as she mashes your face against her sex, grinding out her orgasm into your mouth

>You're not protesting, but the volume of fluid and the fact that you can't breathe are worrisome

>You tough it out, but it's not easy, and when Sam finally comes down, her chest heaving, you're breathless and can taste nothing but Sam's pussy juice as you gulp down air

>You're on the floor

>Stunned, but starting to get undressed…

>…While Sam is down and out, completely winded by her orgasm, her legs still involuntarily twitching like she was fleeing a predator

“That was…"

>Sam barely lifts her head

“So cute, Sam."

“W-what?" she replies, out of breath. “C-cute?"

“You have the cutest moans ever, and the thing your legs do?"

>Her head falls back, heavy with exhaustion, completely blissed out

>But you're not done

>You start shucking clothes

>First your pants (obviously)

>Then your shirt (obviously)

>Leaving you only in boxers, now stained with pre

>And Sam seems to be 'coming to' for lack of a better word

>She sits up as she feels you slide in to bed next to her, and you can't help but smirk

>Bunny stamina, right?

>Sam looks at you, still breathing hard, and then walks her gaze down to your crotch

>Your boxers are little more than a tent with a single occupant

>She reaches for it and begins…

>…You don't know how to describe this

>Gliding a finger up and down its length?

>It's not much, but it does feel good to have someone other than yourself doing some of the work

>"I-i-it's so s-s-springy," she says, lightly stroking it now

“That's nothing, you wanna see something cool?"

>She nods

>You rake your underwear down, and just for fun, chuck your boxers at Sam

>They catch her in the face

>She's stunned, at first, eyes wide and confused, but then, perhaps without even thinking, she picks up your boxers and takes a deep huff

>…

“What are you doing?" you say, eyebrows narrowing

>She jerks back to reality, eyes still shot wide from the panic

>And then all at once shrinks in to herself, like a tiny, shy ball

>"I g-g-got a bit confused. You s-s-smell good."

>…

“Okay that's kinda cute," you say, if only to ease the sudden awkward tension

>Your plan was to show her the way you can make your cock twitch, but now it's just weird

>She nods, but it's clear that she's lost right now as to what to do

>Her eyes dart to your crotch

>More specifically to your cock

>The way its crowned with a bead of glistening pre-cum seems to draw her attention

>Ah, you know, this is (hopefully) the first penis she's seen

>She reaches her hand out, this time gingerly gripping your shaft

>"C-can I?"

“Of course you can! You don't need your permission to touch my dick, that's one of the benefits of-“

>Without a second of warning Sam's head is between your legs, and what you thought was going to be a weak handjob turns into a very clumsy blowjob when she laps the pre-cum off your tip

>You shiver a bit, gripping the sheets as her delicate tongue flicks out and drags itself up the length of your shaft, coaxing a bit of pre-cum out of you

>She drags it up and down the shaft before taking your member into her mouth

>You brace for the best feeling in the world (or so you've been sold by porn)

>But it feels… different, than what you expect

>It feels like something warm and wet is blossoming around your cock

>And then Sam's nimble tongue, wrapping itself around your girth as she very slowly and clumsily works you in and out of her mouth

>Still though

>Looking down and seeing a bunny between your legs is great

>Especially the way she's gotten on to her hands and knees, so you can see padded rear up in the air

>You reach across her body while she takes you deeper and deeper into her mouth…

>…And give her ass an appreciative squeeze

>She squeaks a little as your fingers ply her body, but she keeps her attention on you

>It's the light touch of her tongue, the feeling of her mouth around you, the wetness of your cock, that makes you yearn for something more… intimate… than just a blowjob

>You tap her on the shoulders and she looks up at you

>Now there's something you never thought you'd see

>Sam, with a cock in her mouth

>About this time a year ago you fucking hated her

>And more importantly, you thought she was a boy for YEARS

>But now…

“Sam, do me a favor, okay?"

>…Now you're about to make her a woman

“Lay on the bed."

>Sam

>On her back

>Looking up at you, nervous, shy, fighting tears, her chest still heaving.

>Her bunny legs spread wide

>And you between them

>Or more accurately, your cock between them

>(You) are hovering over her, one arm keeping yourself propped up

>The other guiding your cock against her wet lips

>You start to push forward, just a little bit, hoping you've found her entrance

>She squeaks a little bit, eyes clamping shut, which gives you pause

>She looks so small… so fragile

>So you have to ask

“Is this something you want?"

>Her eyes crack open and she nods

>"I w-w-want you, Anonymous. B-badly."

>Oh fuck, that's enough

>You push forward, still slowly, but with enough force to actually enter her

>And once you do…

>First: her eyes clamp shut – there's undoubtedly some pain there

>But the moan she makes once you bottom out, stretching her walls?

>That's what gets you going

>This is so much better than just sticking a finger inside

>It's like a hot, velvety, wet hug around your cock

>Every centimeter of your cock feels like its getting massages and worked over by tiny little hands

>And you wonder?

>What would It feel like to thrust?

>You glide back

>And then forward, feeling her body part and open up to you

>She clamps down once you at last bottom out, and it feels nothing short of incredible

>Especially since she's got her little arms around your chest now, hugging you against her lithe body as you start to piston in and out

>You love feeling her

>The weight of one person

>And so you spend some time there in missionary, thrusting in and out of her while Sam moans and calls your name, saying it over and over and over again as you bottom out, like it was some kind prayer to the gods of love

>Your hips collide together, and her legs start shaking and beating at the air, heralding the approach of Sam's second orgasm

>You respond in kind, pressing yourself deeper and deeper inside of her, letting out a grunt of your own as Sam's eyes squeeze shut

>You pick up the pace considerably, feeling every centimeter inside of her with your sensitive member

>It feels like her walls are trying to suck the cum right out of you, the way they flex and contract with your every thrust, massaging your cock

>Sam's fingers claw at your back in desperation, and her entire body tenses up, like a timebomb waiting to go off

>Here comes you trying to disarm a nuclear warhead with a hammer

>You thrust, hard, inside of her, pressing your bodies together

>And that does it

>"A-A-Anon!" she squeaks

>You feel her muscles contract around your cock, as if working to milk a load out of you

>And yourself can't hold back

>You feel that electricity in your balls, that tingling sensation that crawls up your body and out the tip of your shaft

>Your thrusting reaches a frantic, sloppy pace, her juices and your cum mixing together as you unload inside of her, absolutely painting her insides with rope after rope of your hot cum

>And it's hardly enough for her

>It must be biology, because when she feels you twitching and convulsing inside of her, her body follows suit

>Her third orgasm is a ripper

>She claws into your back, her whole body constricting and contracting around you as you pulse inside of her, like a warm flower blossoming in her lower body

>At last, after a few desperate thrusts more, you collapse against her, both of your bodies covered in sweat and exhausted

>This must be the afterglow feeling that people talk about

>That feeling of warmth and satisfaction that spreads from your cock (still embedded firmly inside Sam's pussy) which travels up to your whole body

>Cumming inside your waifur is like completing the main quest in life

>And yet, you feel her hips start to move again; they gyrate and undulate very gently

>It stirs your dick into action, and you into confusion

>You sit up as Sam is still wiggling her hips, grinding your cock deeper into her

“Y-you okay Sam?"

>She nods, her face streaked with tears

>But she's smiling

>"I-I j-just can't really c-c-control my body right n-now," she says in a tired breath

>"I-It's l-like I have this v-v-voice-“

>You start to work with her motions

>Fuck it, you're already starting to feel that tingling sensation in your cock again

>"I-It's like I h-have this voice s-saying 'b-breed me.'"

>FUCK

>It's like an instant rush of blood to your groin

>You lift Sam's legs into the air, into a mating press

>If she wants to be bred by human cock than so help you God you're the man for the job

>Sam squeaks, but not in protest

>In excitement

>You piston down, spreading her insides all over again, impaling her on your cock

>With Sam's powerful legs in the air as you thrust, the bed starts to groan and shake and squeak

>Fuck it

>This is exhausting, but being inside of her feels too good

>It feels like you're having sex with an angel of some kind, and that every milking thrust is one step closer to God

>Plus you kinda love the way she's buried into your chest while you're buried up to the crotch inside of her

>It all feels… right

>And so does fucking her, pistoning in and out, driving yourself inch by sensitive inch inside of her, until you bottom out, and your hips collide together in one loud slapping sound

>So you keep doing this while she claws at the sheets to keep herself anchored to planet earth

>Another one her shaking orgasms causes her to legs to beat like a hummingbird's wings, but you ignore it as you push further and further, your own orgasm fast-approaching, like a comet that earth can't possibly dodge

>For the second time you cum inside of Sam, completing not just the main quest in life, but also the optional secret quest

>And then the side quests

>And then…

>Two more orgasms (yours and hers) later…

>…You swear you're done, as you slowly pull out of Sam, sending a literal waterfall of jizz cascading onto the sheets

>What the fuck ever

>You don't even care

>You practically collapse on top of her

>Fucking bunnies and their stamina and breeding instincts

>And their cuteness

>The way her tender ribcage is heaving, but slowing down in its frantic rise and fall as the two of you bask in the afterglow

>Okay, you actually think you're going to be sore in the morning

>You can't tell who fucked who anymore

>You mean, you came in Sam like four times

>But man, after the second the rest was a struggle

>You did it for her, though, because

>You love her

>You roll over in the bed and end up facing one another

>And she's wide awake, eyes open, tears streaming down her, adding to her already sweat-sodden fur

>Ah

>She must be one of those “cry after sex types."

>Fuck it

>People are allowed to feel what they fell

>Especially after losing your virginity, right?

>"I-I n-never t-t-thought t-t-that I c-could feel like t-this…" Sam starts

>Oh boy here come the I-love-yous

>Not that you mind

>"T-that someone w-w-would m-make me f-f-feel accepted."

>She pauses

>"W-wanted."

>She snuggles up close to you

>"T-t-to have s-someone in my l-l-life who is o-okay if I'm still h-h-h-healing."

>First she gives you a ween0r boner, and now a heart boner?

>Fuck

>With Sam on her side, you don't see the horrible burn marks on her shoulder, the scars on her ribs or inner thighs, hips, all over her body

>And even if you did, you'd think they're beautiful little marks of fragility on her

>You remember, briefly, what an old friend once told you in regards to your horrible acne a few years ago:

>"Pimples are flowers."

>Maybe the same could be said about scars and bruises and welts

>Just flowers growing on your body

>And deep down, you almost hope they never heal

>You want to walk in Sam's garden forever

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nIoDeLOofKs