She looked up with wonder and amazement in her eyes, suckling on a pale pink pacifier with pastel shapes decorating the outside. Her mother looking on with tears in her eyes, unable to make much of a sound with a two foot long dildo stuffed down her throat; she had to be careful not to move her head wrong lest she suffocate.

The clock down stairs in the living room could be heard through the open door, over the strained breathing, two chimes rang gently, the clock had been set forward several hours. The interloper put the butter knife down next to the infant, the blood soaking quickly into the crib sheets; the closest she would be to her father again. A sigh filtered through a mask, his eyes tired from his late night hobby, it had become routine, I need variety, he considered as he unbuttoned the onesie and pulled the diaper off the ticklish child.

The young mother, awaiting her second child, probably any day now by the look, gagged softly as she tried to plead with the man. He was well practiced in his craft and didn't even bother looking over to see her ample bosom jiggle when she fell over. He had seen it all before. The unaware little girl giggled as he placed his paw on her stomach, to gauge how deep he would be going. He wasn't the biggest but with the tips of his fingers at the top of the frail ribs of a child not older than a year, she certainly wouldn't survive the encounter.

He turned slowly, and walked towards the mother, as though he had all the the time in the world, squatting in front of her, and clicking some unseen button on his collar. A modulated voice spoke to the terrified rabbit.

“By now you've probably guessed, I mean, you have a TV, you've seen the news, no doubt; I'm that serial killer going around raping women and killing their husbands.”

This confirmed her fears but didn't shake the bun as she had reached her limit seeing the toddler's diaper tossed in front of her face.

“As you know, you're going to be raped, but that little girl over there is tiny. I mean, this is how big I am…”

The bun looked at the raised paw of the feline predator, it was bigger than her head, he could comfortably rest his arm between her ears and scratch her chin while palming her face.

“and this is her.”

He put his other paw a mere inch above the first.

“Now… she’s fragile to a fault, and you’re not strong enough to stop anything I do. That means if you try and fight me, try to escape, start to scream, or do anything to anger me, you will be snapped in half like a twig and I’ll go over to her and do whatever I want.

“I'd say blink once or twice or something, since you can't talk or even nod, but with all those sparkling tears you'd be a blinking mess. I'll take it for granted that I've made myself clear.”

He gripped her by her shoulders and put her upright on her knees, then once behind her unfastened the velcro securing the “gag” in her mouth. She had been fighting the unquenchable urge to empty the contents of her stomach and now she finally did. The clear purple horse dong was “small” but was far more than the widow had ever taken, from either end; strewn on the floor was also a home cooked meal, plenty of nutrition for the developing child she carried. Such a waste, really.

“The… butterknife… killer,” she choked as she spit up the last remnants of her late husband's favorite carrot cake.

“If I could have picked the name it would be more, I don't know, manly? But yes. I guess I should know your name, if you know mine.”

She wasn’t in any position to defy him but hesitated not expecting this kind of conversation with a killer and rapist, “Steph,” she managed. “Please don't hurt her, I won't scream,” she said, using her shoulder to wipe her mouth, a desperation in her soft voice.

“Don't forget about this little one,” he teased as he caressed her swollen belly, “wouldn't want to exert yourself too much.”

“What are you going to do to us?”

Under the reflective lens of the ski goggles he wore to hide his identity he rolled his eyes. How cliché a question to be asked, he thought, isn't it obvious?

“Well,” he sighed, “I'm going to rape you. Rape is like sex only you hate yourself because your body betrays you and feels good even though you don't want it.”

She felt like he was mocking her, but felt dumb for asking. His words were already painfully true as he massaged her inner thighs and sensitive breasts, she was getting aroused by the man she had not just ten minutes ago watched stab her husband to death with a “harmless” butterknife. Well, mostly harmless.

“Please don't,” she pleaded, arms bound, legs bound, she looked away and whimpered as her breathing changed. She could feel the heat rising in her, lustier than normal, she hated herself for feeling good.

“If you keep resisting you'll just feel worse. I'm this big, remember?” He palmed the side of her head gently. She wished he would be rougher, more violent, so she could hate him, but his every touch was careful and soothing. A part of her was terrified thinking of that poking her womb while other parts were too obviously looking forward to being stretched into his shape.

“The baby—” she began to protest.

“Will be fine, I'm going to be extra gentle,” he said to both reassure her and confirm her fears. He knew how this was ripping her apart inside, it was the part he most enjoyed.

He savored her young flesh, the softness of her fur, the smell and taste of her fear and heat, gently rubbing her swollen nipples, her fur soaked in the milk which rightfully belonged to the cooing babe five feet away. Once he could smell her giving in to the forced stimulation he closed the door and put his bag in front of it. His rape kit, she wondered angrily.

“I'm going to undo your arms and legs now, so you can get more comfortable.” His kindness a tool to pry her compliance out of her; all the same he undid her restrains, purpose made cuffs with large velcro pads like the one he already removed from her mouth, obviously well made and probably expensive. She took notice of how prepared and methodical he was and considered that anything she could hastily come up with as a way to escape or get help, he would have thought of already and planned for it.

She complied and continued to weep as he explored her body. He sat with his legs crossed, leaning against the wall, with his pregnant prey spread eagle in his lap. He toyed with her as she wept, tracing the tips of his claws gently through her fur, his breath effortlessly heaving the bun up and down, slowly entrancing her. She was losing her conviction, with every beat of her heart she tried desperately to cling onto the still fresh memory of him throwing her husband around like a doll, stabbing him viciously, all in cold blood.

“Ooh, I have an idea,” the large feline predator spat as he swiftly sprung to his feet, swinging his catch into his arms with no discernible exertion. As she stared wide-eyed up at the mask with a drawn-on smile, twisted and evil, she felt herself flush with admiration at the amount of strength and dexterity it took, and for the first time felt how absolutely helpless she really was. He could have done the same any other way, no need to show off, but he was pleased that she was affected by the almost vulgar display of physical prowess.

“It's rude of me to waste all of baby's milk, why don't you feed her?”

“No, please,” she stammered as she was carried toward the crib, “I'm being good, you said you wouldn't hurt her!”

“Quietly!” he whispered, “you don't want to scare her. I won't hurt her, I just want you to nurse her a little. Now, smile and talk sweetly to her, let her know everything's going to be ok, and give her a midnight snack.”

He's sadistic, she thought pointing out the obvious. All the same she relented, wiping her tears, and practiced putting on a smile before reaching for her undressed baby girl who knew that it was feeding time.

“Look at that,” smiled the masked man, “baby is thirsty! Yes she is! Such a beautiful baby girl, just like her mommy. What's her name?”

“It's Emily,” she responded reluctantly, as he sat back down to cradle the two of them with no more effort than he had used to stand. He tickled Emily and she held onto his digit, the tiny hand seeming so small as he played with her. Even playing with the child was manipulation. As Steph sang to her nursing child to lull her back to sleep, she was glad the he was focused on fondling and groping her and not Emily. They sat happily and soon the unduly woken baby fell back asleep, fed and tickled.

“So cute. Well, let's quietly put a diaper on her and tuck her back in,” he said, gently helping the two of them up. She walked on her own, and considered running, but with the door blocked off she wouldn't get far safely before he kept good on his word. 

As she fit her daughter with a fresh diaper and another onesie, he continued to caress her, bringing her hormone induced urges out, pressing the bulge in his pants against the all-too ‘small’ of her back. He would issue an intermittent grope on the bun's buns, sliding the occasional paw temptingly close to the sopping wetness between her legs, or give her sensitive and raw nipples a graze, but she fought just as sternly to keep control of herself.

“Ok, now let's have our fun,” he had turned down the volume on his voice modulator but in her mind she had been fearing this moment as much as her body had been yearning for it. She nodded and covered her mouth as she sobbed, fearing for the life of her two children, hoping she would make it to she her second be born.

In one hand he held hers gently, while the other guided her by the shoulder to the bedroom. She looked back down the hall, not to the dimly lit baby's room, but to the dark kitchen where her husband's body lay in a pool of blood. He stopped and gently turned her head. “It's best not to think about that right now, you'll have plenty of time to grieve and cry when you're telling all this to the police in the morning.”

He seemed so sure of himself, smug, she thought, although he was right, as much as she hated to admit it. He closed the door and set his bag in front of it again, part of her noticed the pattern and wanted to think about why but there were more pressing matters at hand.

“Now, and be honest, are you ready?”

Disgust filled her mind. He wasn’t asking if she was ready to be raped mentally or emotionally: he was asking if he had groped her enough to bring out her need to be thrown onto the bed and fucked like the rabbit in heat she really was. She didn’t want to admit it to herself, let alone him, but her husband hadn’t touched her since she started showing. She was so desperate for sex she could taste it. She took her time to find the courage to shyly nod. Sex wasn’t something she was used to speaking about so frankly, as polite as he was being; another tactic he used to manipulate her.

“No need to be shy, tell me.” He lifted her head gently by touching her chin with the tips of his fingers. The gesture lost some meaning with his eyes obscured but she felt her body respond anyway.

“I’m… ready… to be raped.” She said, trying to stare him down through the tears that never really left.

“Do you think you’re ready for this?” With that he pulled out the predator cock that she had feared.

He wasn’t bluffing earlier, she thought as the throbbing pink shaft bounced gently with his pulse. She was mortified by the thought of that tearing her open; the flower between her legs blooming in disagreement with her rational mind.

“No, please, I can’t, it won’t fit!” She had never even tried to take anything that big and didn’t want tonight to be an exception.

“Steph…” the weight of his paws on her shoulders told her very plainly but he continued anyway, “you’re going to try anyway, right.”

It wasn’t really a question but she nodded as she shook from the sobbing that started back in full force. He slid his paws across her back, bringing her into his embrace. She stood with her arms at her side, trying so hard to defy him, as he hugged her so tenderly.

“I’m going to be real gentle, and I’ll be very careful not to hurt you.” Again words that would be welcome had been twisted, he wasn’t raping her body, he was raping her mind. She was torn in half and he hadn’t even touched her dripping and needing pussy.

“I wish you’d just throw me on the bed and rape me! I can’t stand this! Why are you being so damned soft on me?! How can you be such a monster?!” She didn’t really want to know but as soon as she heard her own words, Steph realized she had invited him to say something that would make her want him even more.

“Because I need to feel something.”

Not the response she was expecting. She bit her tongue not to participate in the rhetoric sure to follow.

“I’m a monster… you’re right. I grew up surrounded by death and loss, so I numbed myself. Now,” he gripped her inner thigh, sliding his paw through her soaked fur and bringing it up, past her face where she could smell the strength of her own heat, up to his muzzle, “not even the sight of a beautiful young woman like you, so feminine and supple, or the smell of your heat, which would be intoxicating to any lesser man, gives me any rise.”

The sweetness of his words a poison, things she hadn’t heard in what seemed like ages, the romance in the marriage seemed to give way to their first child.

“I need to feel something greater than mere lust. Sure, this is awful, I’m a monster, all that stuff…”

Stop! Don’t say anything else, she screamed in her mind, as if he would listen.

“And yet you need this, too, don’t you.” Again, he wasn’t asking a question but she couldn’t stop herself.

“Yes,” she admitted, hating herself, “I need you inside me.” She didn’t realize that she had wrapped her arms around him and was crying in full force, not from fear or being raped, but in genuine loneliness. He was answering a question she didn’t know to ask, and he was pushing all her buttons, playing her like an instrument, and she wanted to sing for him.

He gave her the moment she needed and savored winning, not her body but her mind. She was his now and her admission was driving him over the edge.

“Ok, now I need you to put this on,” he said pulling a silk band, a blindfold.

“Ok.” She knew what was going to happen. He was going to take off his mask and she wouldn’t be allowed to live if she saw his face. She didn’t need to ask or be reminded of the peril she was in. Steph put it on herself, with a little help making the right kind of knot as she was new to all the bondage she was learning tonight.

“Is it comfortable? Not too tight, is it?” Concern she wished was more common in her love life.

“I’m fine… scared, though.”

“I’ll go slow,” he whispered, his voice natural and unmodulated for the first time to the bun’s ears, a near growl but smooth and lust-filled as he leaned in.

The shaky Steph quivering as he tickled his claws up and down her body, breathing heavy, her eyes dry for the first time all night, having given in to her lust and his potency. He leaned in, she could hear his breath shaking, he wanted her just as much as she wanted him. She was waiting for the kiss she knew was coming, his breath mixing with hers, a hot steam between theirs faces, her anticipation at it’s limit, she needed release. He teased his prey, touching his nose to hers ever so lightly, wanting to have her take the last step. Feeling his nose she couldn’t hold back and lunged into the passion she craved, her tongue feeling small on the massive incisors in her new lover’s mouth, his intimidating tongue slowly lapping the roof of her mouth drove her wild as she imagined the treats he had in store for her when he inevitably kissed his way between her legs; a new experience she hoped for now that she was in the arms of this predator.

He was gentle as promised, as his every kiss a light touch, even the nibble on her neck, her shoulder, teething a tease of penetration, she pushed him to do more, fighting his unbearable slow pace: haven’t you teased me enough tonight?!

Finally, perhaps years later, so she felt, he was at her chest, a strong paw massaging one of her milk drenched C-cups, “yes~ Milk me~” she shuddered as he followed her order, suckling her at her other tit like a kitten, his teeth a terrifying rush of pleasure to the squirming woman. She reached between her legs to bring herself some release, but his paw met hers and pulled it firmly above her head, helpless to stop him she whimpered and shook with lust, to which he ran his snout up her cleavage, inhaling her scent loudly, allowing the smell of her to take him a little bit further.

He pressed down on her shoulder, squishing the soft Steph lightly into the pillows piled behind her, and repositioned himself. She spread her legs and found his head, anticipating the tongue lashing she was finally about to receive by gripping the fur between hers ears. He leaned in, guided by the hand that too eagerly pressed him in. She knew she was his plaything, helpless to his strength, but she couldn’t control herself anymore, or rather, she didn’t want to. The pink lips parted before him, coated with her love juices, glistened in the low light, beckoning him towards them, her scent filled his head and he wanted it to fill his maw.

She pushed her hips up, needing his touch, unable to help herself, at his mercy. He slowly began to lean in, her breathing quickened ready to be pushed over the edge, as he too gently brushed the patches of white fur on either side of his prize with his whiskers, the hot and heavy breath of his open mouth stripping the already naked rabbit of her self control as a moan breaks free of her conservative yet panting mouth. The moaning continued, with every breath she took she gave in to the need to loudly exclaim how good she felt.

“AHN!” Her squeal filled the house and she didn’t care if the whole world heard it, her neglected love slit had finally felt the raspy tongue of her savior. He held the strong tongue in place, pushing and pulling on her swollen petals, his paws holding the uncontrollably bucking Steph by her hips, allowing her to convulse in orgasm as he snarled huskily into her navel, her grip on his ears a pain he gladly invited. She continued to spasm, her breasts bouncing with every tremor, the aftershocks of the orgasm of her life, as her vulva never stopped being spread and pressed by the dominating tongue which now threatened to fill her completely.

As her fists uncurled from his ears,he flitted them to allow blood to flow back in, never having lost his focus: he was stalking his prey, even still. As her legs weakened their grip on the predator’s head, she began to go limp from the exertion of cumming so hard. He drank her nectar slowly, carefully, tending to her now gingerly red flesh by slowly peeling his tongue from her. As the world came back, her eyes rolled under the blindfold and she remembered who was between her legs: her lover, her master, the beast to whom she belonged. Everything seemed a million miles away, unaware of how loud she had just been, she never knew how much she needed to be dominated until she had felt the release of being freed from the burden of having to hold back.

Having unlatched himself from her love, he moved up her body, planting whiskery kisses in a trail, bringing her lust back up, the sex drive of a pregnant bunny being used to its fullest potential. She ran her paws up her body, wanting to get herself ready for him, up her neck and along her ears, rippling her in pleasure, and she was rewarded as he took her lead and nibbled the base of her ear, pulling gently up the length, curling her toes as she was driven back into a frenzy, heavily panting, her breaths rapid and wet, just as much as her awaiting pussy.

He had waited patiently, he had met her needs, it was finally time to give her the prize for submitting, allowing herself to break down, accepting that she is a sexual bunny and needs to be fucked.

“Tell me what you want to happen next.” He ordered her to order him, to be so powerful and forceful yet give her the control; or was this—no, it didn’t matter anymore, she accepted that he had freed her and wanted him inside her.

“I want to look into your eyes as you fill me up. Treat me like a doll, make me feel small in your powerful hands.” Hearing herself say these things excited her as much as it excited him.

“What if I have to kill you for seeing my face?”

“Then I’ll die happy.”

He picked her up by her hips, she felt the base of his cock push her pussy open as he set her on his lap, pressing the drenched little thing into his muscular chest, her head resting against his pounding heart. He began to undo the knot on the blindfold, with the tender touch he had maintained all night, a touch that now drove her wild. This is it, she thought, there’s no going back.

As the silk draped itself over her delicate shoulder, held up only by how tightly she clung to her lover who might kill her after he filled her with his seed, she opened her eyes to see the fur of his chest, and his paw coming up to brush her cheek. She didn’t flinch, or blink, the feel of his pads pushing aside the fur on her face, his claws being drug along the back of her head, she felt safe and moaned in delight. She felt that he had accepted her. If he snapped her neck, that was ok. Her unborn child, Emily, her parents, her sisters and brothers, the whole world, none of them mattered anymore.

He pulled her up the length of his girthy barbed manhood, tickling her ready lips, and pulled her back to look into her sparkling blue eyes that he had missed being able to see since the blindfold went on. She took her time looking up his face, his chin that nudged her while she came, enticing ideas of sex she would never before have desired. The lips that could be as gentle as a feather and still pinch her nipples sharply. The nose so irresistible that she had to almost jump to force the kiss she wanted. And there, those eyes, kind and piercing, they looked into her and again she felt naked and bare in front of him and revelled it.

He pulled her hips against him, pressing her open on the tip of his penis. Her head tilted back and her breathing sharply sped up. She didn’t want him to stop and squirmed as she bit her lip, her eyes locked into his, his breathing matching hers, she slid further down as he pushed farther into her. She gasped and moaned, her mouth hanging open as she stretched more than she thought she could, taking him in and forging new heights of ecstasy. As her drenched folds met his sheath she finally knew what it was to be full.

She leaned in, and wrapped her arms around him, not able to do much else, her breathing slowly returning from the brink of being ripped apart by the massive member making room for itself inside her. “I’m ok, but I don’t think I can move on my own for a while,” she said almost out of breath, a nervous giggle coming out between gasps.

“I’ll take care of you,” he promised, and laid back to appreciate the beauty of his catch. He groped up her hips, her waist, her breasts, and fondled his way back down, resting on her backside, and with a gentle squeeze rocked her forward. As he slid out of her the barbs of his predcock traced through her, sending waves of pleasure up her spine, her clitoris and mons gliding up his abs, lubricated by her overflowing juices, another intensity she had never known, the shock of it all causing her to lean forward where her paws found a home on a muscular chest that felt like magic under her soft pads.

In the next motion he squeezed her perfect ass down his cock, causing a second wave of pleasure to crash on her weakening body as she struggled to retain her cognisance. He smirked at the quivering rabbit, “Are you ok? I can stop if you want.” He lied, there was no way he could stop himself now, but he would try if she said to. Sure, this was a rape but he had won and hurting her would be throwing it all away.

“N-no… you can…” She stopped to catch her breath, “you can keep going.”

She looked back into his eyes, wanting to make him feel as good as she did, to repay him, she wanted to please him, and would ruin herself if he told her to.

“You’re so sexy, I’m already at my limit, going slow is all I can do to keep from cumming right away.”

“Me, too, I want to cum with you, I want you to lo—” she was about to say it, she panicked, but a familiar gentle paw on her cheek told her she was safe. “I want you to love me.”

He returned his paw to under her tail and squeezed her up and down his length, going farther each time, finding new depth in every thrust, as she collapsed onto her elbows, she clawed at the bed to prop herself up, determined to look into his eyes as the pace quickened, time seemed to become meaningless as she drowned in his scent, his power, his thrusting, she was going to lose control, she needed to know, no, she needed him to know, that she loved him.

As focused as ever, he squeezed the fluffy-tailed girl back all the way, pushing her harder than he meant to, and lunged forward throwing her on her back. With one paw he held her head up to lock eyes just like she wanted, and she smiled as he kissed her, unblinkingly, she wrapped her legs around him, holding him inside, pulling him in farther, as he bucked her against the bed. Feeling the heat of his release inside her, the wild bucking, instinct took her over and clinging to her mate, locked in a kiss, staring into her lover’s eyes, her body quaked with bliss for a second time.

Exhausted completely after cumming for several minutes, the bunny girl fell limp, barely able to turn her head towards the mountain that lay next to her, stroking her paw gently. “Please, don’t make me horny again, I think I might die if I cum one more time tonight.” Her breaths difficult and taxing, she realized she might be right. He leaned in and nuzzled her, kissing her paw in his.

“I hate to snap you back to reality but—”

“I know… yeah, this can’t last… what now?”

“You’re covered and filled with evidence, so I need to bathe you, drug you, and leave before the sun comes up.”

“Does it have to be like that? Is there any other way?”

He smiled at his work, she had fallen the hardest for him.

“We can move away together, nobody will know us!” She sounded like a kid asking to do chores for a month to get a new video game, the only other life or death situation imaginable.

“It’s ok, we’ll meet up after the heat dies down, and we can be together.”

“Really?!” she beamed, “do you mean it?”

“I’m tired of this life. I’m alone, you know,” he stared at the little paw he held, “most women don’t like dating monsters and it’s not like I can pretend not to be myself.”

She didn’t know what to say. She stammered and mumbled lightly, wanting to be the reassuring voice for once. He booped her sweetly on the nose and smiled.

“It’s sweet of you to want to make me feel better, thank you.”

She smiled back, tears coming back to her eyes. She couldn’t think of him as a monster anymore, even if that meant she was broken, too.

— — —

“What’s in the bag, anyway? Your rape kit?” asked the bun, sitting on the soft plush cover of the toilet lid, it would have to be washed, too.

“Mostly rocks,” he said as he pulled out a bottle of something to pour into the water as it filled the tub.

Her feet gently swaying to and fro as she watched him draw her a bath, thinking how sweet it was that he had even planned this earlier without knowing if she would struggle. A prudent move considering the amount of “evidence” covering and filling her, but all the same she felt like it was a romantic gesture, that maybe he secretly always hoped for someone to love him back.

“Rocks?”

“The backpack weighs probably twenty pounds or so, the split second it would take for you to get around it is all I need to stop you if you tried to run for it.”

She was impressed by how meticulous he was, no wonder he had managed to avoid getting caught this long. “You didn’t leave it in front of the door, though,” and indeed the door was open with the bag of rocks on the bathmat next to him.

“I’m trusting you with my fate, but don’t run, walk; you’ve got to avoid straining yourself,” he motioned towards her belly with a wiggle in his brow that suggested he was half joking.

She glared at him incredulously before giggling under her breath, “you’re one to talk,” she said, kicking him in the ribs playfully.

“How’s this, too hot?”

She dipped her paw into the milky water, “that’s perfect.” He helped her in and as she sank beneath the fragrant water she thought how she had wished her husband was this caring. The handheld shower attachment he had installed when Steph was pregnant with Emily was as much as he went out of his way for her, feeling he had done his fair share of being inconvenienced. “Are you this sweet to all the girls you rape?”

“Normally I would have drugged you for this part,” he said, wringing out a washcloth under the water as he started cleaning the lapine ears he remembered playfully mouthing earlier. “What about you? Stockholm syndrome doesn’t usually kick in this fast.” He was surprisingly blunt about it, although he seemed to be very level headed about the entire night with everything fitting perfectly together.

“I guess it’s half shock, half relief. I haven’t really processed anything, it’s still hard to imagine that… I’m scared of the future now, so much is uncertain. I relied so much on him.” She had so many fears vying for dominance that she just felt overwhelmed.

“First, you’ll go to sleep. When you wake up, you’ll have a sheet of paper with a script to read the cops, and I’ll set your phone next to it, fully charged. When you call the police you’ll read that script, they’ll do their job and then they’ll arrange for you to stay somewhere else, family or friend’s house, hotel. I recommend family, it sends the police the best message.” Insightful but not really wait she needed to hear.

“Then, I’m going to leave it up to you. I’m broken and what you feel now,” he placed his paw over her heart, “might fade. If you want to reach out to me… even if you want to turn me in…” he faltered saying it aloud, “I’ll leave my number in your phone, picture and all. You can take your time deciding.”

She was shocked by the offer, turn him in? She couldn’t imagine it, just like she couldn’t imagine her life without her dead husband.

“I want you!” She emphasized it as if her choice was based on the idea that she wasn’t a widow now, “I wasn’t happy…” She had things she needed to say, things she needed to admit to herself.

“I was young, I got swept up in emotion and, well I guess I’m still young but two years and two kids gave me time to wake up. He… never treated me the same after I got pregnant with Emily, I felt…” she didn’t want to say it but she could tell he knew how she felt, as he slowly continued to rub the sex out of her fur, he took the time to lift her paw to his face and nuzzle it in comfort.

“I wasn’t looking for it, I feel dumb about it now, but it should have been obvious. I was doing the laundry and it was bright red, a circle on his boxers. Took me a while to figure out what it was.

“After that I felt… kind of like this. I didn’t know what to do and I feared about the future, what would I do if he decided to leave me? I guess… you helped me make that choice. Maybe it was a happy coincidence that you chose to rape me.”

“I choose who I’m going to kill… based on the DV reports filed by hospitals,” he admitted, ashamed.

“That… that night I asked him about his ‘work phone’ he got upset. I wouldn’t have gone but… the baby,” she said, gently rubbing her belly.

The two sat still in silence for a moment as he realized she felt responsible for the murder. She wondered if she did the right thing, and a dozen other thoughts flashed through her mind at once.

“I don’t know how to… I’m one who did this, you’re not—”

“I know. I have to protect my babies, and you helped me do that.” She smiled, now certain of her future. This was far more than a nudge but was the right thing for her children.

— — —

In the days to follow, the police combed the house from top to bottom, unable to find anything useful, a mild smell of cleaning products from the house itself could be detected in every room, and Steph declined a post-rape evidence exam in favor of a visit to her OB/GYN who confirmed she was perfectly fine.

The kitchen was cleaned by professionals, the life insurance was handled swiftly as Steph was immediately proven to have no involvement in her husband’s murder, and the payment allowed her to pay off the house, which she decided to sell so she could move on. She hesitated in her contacts list over the name she had never learned, but several weeks would pass before she decided to press that green button.

“He-hello?”

“Steph?”

“Yeah! I, uh…” She had thought so much about what to say, about who could be listening, picking up the line after one ring, was he waiting for her?

“We should catch up over coffee, do you know the place across from the bank downtown? With the red spring out front?”

“Yeah! Yeah, I know the one.” She tried not to sound too eager, but her heart had never felt so alive.

“I’m free all day, how about you?”

“Yeah! Me, too!”

“I’ll head over there now, if you’re nearby?”

“I’m nearby!” She wasn’t. In all reality, not only was she a fair distance away, but was wearing what she thought was the most unflattering combination of stretchy pants and a bra with fuzzy pink slippers. She just woke up and convinced herself to make the call, no real plan at all.

“Ok, I’ll see you there.” The smile in his cool voice came through over the phone, although he was more capable of hiding his enthusiasm than she was.

She hung up the phone and wiggled in glee before the snap back to reality: “Oh shit, I need something to wear!”

— — —

He had rushed over. After their shared night of passion, he wore business casual at all times, ready for the police to show up and take him to jail where he would await the death penalty. The resolve to accept his fate tempered by the planning he put into the possibility of meeting Steph once more. He had picked out the place, with good parking and easy access, next to a daycare and a park, a place where he knew the owner and the employees, so he could handle any issues that came up or be respectful if it turned out to be him getting arrested.

“Still hasn’t shown up, huh?” The barista, Jason, who knew the look of a man waiting for a date that hasn’t shown up, asked his regular who tried not looking too eagerly out the window but still looked up with every flicker of sunlight bouncing off passing cars into the storefront.

“At this point in my world, if I don’t have patience, I don’t have anything.” A subtle allusion to the life in prison he might still be facing.

“Another?”

“Yes, please, thank you.”

Another flicker of light traced along the ceiling, he looked up, seeing a car pull in, he didn’t recognize it but as it came to a halt in the handicapped spot his heart skipped a beat. The glare from the sun hid the driver but the hope filling him presented his slack-jawed face clearly in the window. The door opened and two ears poked through, lapine, ears he would remember for the rest of his life.

“It’s her,” he announced, Jason turning to look, not tremendously concerned that he was making a latté for someone that just bolted out the door.

Carefully turning to stand out of the car, a familiar paw presented itself. Her heart leapt, she looked up at the handsome cat whom she had so many nights fantasized about, she tried to picture him, what he might look like, how would he dress? What was his job? What were his hobbies? Who was this cat that had stolen her heart? She hugged him and nearly cried, standing there in the sun, a long sleeve button down with slacks, she couldn’t have imagined him being so… proper.

“David?” She asked.

“Steph?” He asked back.

“I mean, it’s just like, before I looked I tried guessing your name, and… I don’t know.” She was rambling, a nervous mess, she couldn’t stop herself but wanted to so badly.

“Yeah, I know, boring name, it’s not like we get to pick them for ourselves,” he always felt his name was mundane, common and boring. They shared a laugh in realizing this was the first actual meeting they’ve had.

They made their way inside, Steph ordering a fruit smoothie, then headed to the park a short walk away and sat at a bench watching the fountain do nothing unusual at all.

“Hey Emma, have you grown? Uh oh! You’ve got my paw! What am I going to do now?”

“You’re so good with her, I bet you’ll be a great father for these two, too.”

“I… two, too?” There was more than one surprise in her, and he was already having an amazing day just because he hadn’t been arrested.

“A boy and a girl, I need help with names, maybe something boring and common?”

His hand wiggled softly as the infant played with it, a giant soft toy as far as she could tell. The breeze of a passing low pressure system that kept the day clear and beautiful but promised rain stirred the tops of the trees and gently flicked the tufts of fur at the tips of his ears. He leaned in and kissed his blushing prize, a perfect kiss in a perfect moment.

“That sounds perfect.”

— — —

A rape story with a happy ending?! What’s wrong with this world? Have we all gone mad? Probably.

I started out teasing some infanticide and horrible rape scenes of depravity, and it really seemed like I would take it that way, but under the baby raping murderologist I’m a hopeless romantic. I don’t want anybody to think I condone rape or murder, well, ok, I kind of condone murder, but I’m definitely not ok with baby rape.

What makes two people compatible? How are soul mates made? Steph is from a wholesome family, good values, lots of loving family, huge rabbit family, I mean come on. Dave is from a broken home, horrible, abusive, he grew up watching his mom get beat and cheated on, was beat himself, single child, then single mom, no positive role models, and then he was poor and scrawny, unpopular in school. His life was basically a recipe to make a monster; and yes, I don’t blame him for becoming a monster because monsters are made, not born.

But whatever, I mean, how are Dave and Steph going to reconcile those extreme differences? Steph can’t even imagine the world Dave is from, he’s like an alien to her. Dave wants so badly to join her world, but can he put the monster in a cage? Does anyone else ever think about this stuff? Memes are the things in our world that we share; did you grow up watching Cartoon Network and can pick up on references to old Toonami anime? How about NewGrounds and flash movies where Goku talks (seemingly forever) about his balls?

Do you know why wearing loafers might mean I’m a shark in disguise? Ok, now I’m getting off track. Where I’m trying to go with this is that maybe love could be enough. Maybe two people who really care about each other, who really just want to be a part of another person’s life, maybe that’s enough to make it work. No need to have a common set of life experiences or backgrounds. Does love really conquer all? A predator so broken as to be a monster; a bunny too timid to leave an abusive relationship; both just wanting to be loved. Can this work out or is it all just a fantasy?

Luckily, yes, this is a fantasy and I can give a rape/murder story a happy ending. They lived happily ever after. See? Or maybe the sex is just that good, whatever works.