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} ], "pools": [], "description": "A daughter returns to find her father and his friend hatching a plan on how to set her straight.", "description_bbcode_parsed": "A daughter returns to find her father and his friend hatching a plan on how to set her straight.", "writing": "Ever since her mother passed, Erica’s father had been in a bit of a slump. Once a handsome and desired man, now he had shaggy, unkempt, gray fur and a beer belly. He’d been someone important at work, someone people looked up to, now he was relegated to cleaning up other bosses’ projects when they neared completion without getting any credit for it. They couldn’t fire him but they could make his life miserable.\nLuckily for her father, he didn’t care or he might have quit. These days he walked around in a daze, never smiling but never crying either. While she had worked through her mother’s death, at least somewhat, he still carried it around it around and let it dominate his life. She couldn’t help but to think that her mother would be so disappointed with him, letting life get to him this way.\nThe only social interaction he had outside of work was with Pete, the fat, old rabbit that lived two floors up. They’d only been acquaintances when her mother was still alive but as her father drove away all his other friends over the years, he was the only one that stuck around. Not only had he the audacity to try and seduce her, she’d once caught him going through her panties in the laundry room.\nGranted, she wasn’t unused to older men making passes at her, especially her own wolf-kind. In the old country, she’d already be married off. Fourteen years old and still not pregnant with her first child, it would’ve been the stuff of rumors. Here, though, even the thought of marrying your daughter off was illegal and her mother had been quite outspoken about the old ways, much to the chagrin of her father at family reunions.\nShe thought of herself quite beautiful, inheriting her mother’s looks but her father’s physique. Well, his physique when he tried, anyway. Her breasts had begun developing a few years ago and now they were a decent size for a fourteen-year-old. Shopping for a bra without her mother had been a bit of a test and had almost brought her to tears once or twice but eventually she had gotten the help she needed and found just the right size. And without adult supervision, she’d picked out mostly practical ones but also two sexy ones.\nAll in all, she’d learned to become independent quickly in the wake of her mother’s death. The less her father had been capable to do, the more she had stepped up. Cooking and laundry were now her responsibilities as well as cleaning the apartment twice a month. At least her father did the dishes now and then.\nThe apartment wasn’t particularly big, a mere two rooms with a single bathroom and a kitchen. It had been impossible to stay in the big house and due to her father’s mental state, he’d made a bad deal when he sold it so all they could afford was this. At least she had a room to herself while her father slept in the living room. But they made do, no-one could call the Ivanovs quitters or whiners.\nBut even Erica had to admit things had been bad lately. Her father was becoming dangerously negligent at work and if he lost that, there was no telling what would happen. And this had only soured their relationship further at home. She barely had any social life to speak off between all her chores at home so the few times that she did take time with friends, she usually had to fight tooth and claw for it.\nJust last week they’d had a massive argument about responsibility.\n“Erica, you can’t just leave the apartment looking like a whore.”\nHe’d shout even though, in her opinion, she looked like any normal teenager.\n“What the fuck, dad? I’m not a whore! I just want to go out and have fun with some friends.”\nShying back slightly when he raised his hands, she could see in his eyes that he was angry. But he calmed again and lowered it though his words were no kinder for that:\n“If your friends dress like that, they’re all whores. Make sure to wear a condom cause I’m sure as hell not paying for no doctor visit when it starts itching.”\nAs always, the argument had ended when she stormed out the door, slamming it behind her. When she got home, he’d already drunk himself asleep in the sofa, TV blaring loudly. And, like all the other times, she put the blanket on him and turned off the TV and lights.\nThe last week had been colder between them than usual. He seemed to regret calling her a whore but not quite willing to retract it so an apology never came. And she didn’t take kindly to being called a whore. She was still a virgin, she hadn’t had a boyfriend since Brian five years ago and that was as innocent as it could get, barely a kiss on the lips. Dinners had been silent and any pleasantries exchanged short and to the point.\nToday she had left without even talking to her father. It was Friday and after his comments last week, she saw no reason to get into an argument with him again. He was probably not in any better state of mind than he had been then, possibly even worse. And she didn’t relish the thought of being called a whore again. Dressed for a party, she wore a tight top that showed off her breasts quite nicely and a jacket to cover with if she felt it was needed. Bare midriff, of course, followed by a skirt that didn’t even reach halfway down her thighs and plenty of people had verified that she was wearing red, laced panties underneath.\nPerhaps a bit of an overreaction to her father’s words, she none the less relished in the looks and attention it was getting her. It had even earned her the attention of some boys that wouldn’t have given her a second look just hours before. They seemed to take turns to sit next to her, press in against her and whisper sweet nothings in her ear and a few beers more, she might just take one of them up on it.\nIn the end, her modest upbringing won through, though, and the most she got involved with was some deep kissing with a boy from another school. Feeling the alcohol clouding her judgment, near midnight she decided it was time to go home. Plenty of people tried to convince her otherwise and she made a mental note of every boy that seemed to clamor for her attention. If they still felt the same way next week, she might make something happen.\nOn the ride home, the alcoholic fumes from her mind cleared significantly and a part of her thought she should just go back to the party. The rest of her, however, felt guilty about having left her father as she had so she decided it was time to try and bury the hatchet, at least for now. She just hoped she’d have a chance to change her clothes, or at least cover up, before they had a talk.\n\nIt was a little after 1 when the door to the apartment opened and a young wolf stepped through. The door opened straight into the dark living room and the only lights spilled in from outside and through the kitchen door. Closing the door silently behind her, she made a beeline for the door next to the kitchen door; her room.\nFrom inside the kitchen she could hear voices chattering and the clinking of glass. Evidently her father was still up and he had company. At first, she dared hope that he’d invited some workmates over, perhaps start rebuilding his social network and start climbing the company ladder again. Instead she was disappointed when the only voices she could hear was her father and Pete’s.\nThere was no man in this world she despised quite as much as Pete. A fat, retired steel mill worker who lived a few apartments above theirs, he had been a constant pain in her mother’s behind. There wasn’t a woman he wouldn’t hit on or try to fondle when given an opportunity and when her mother died, his focus had changed to her instead. More than once she’d have to push him off when his hands got a bit too daring. But when she told her father, he called her a liar and sometimes added:\n“Just like your mother.”\nExactly when the two had become friends was hard to say but Pete had played straight into her father’s conservative, traditional nature. Whenever he was around, it didn’t take long for the subject to become about how things had been better in the old days when women knew their place and children respected their elders.\nPete didn’t believe any of that, Erica knew for damn sure. He was just using it to get closer to her dad and, by proxy, her. She knew he’d been married once though she struggled to picture what kind of woman agreed to marry him. But they divorced more than two decades ago and he had no contact with his children or grandchildren, thankfully.\nJust as she was about to push open her own door, her father’s voice rang out from the kitchen.\n“Erica, come in here.”\nThe slur in his voice told her everything she needed to know; he was way past drunk.\n“In a second, dad, I just need to get something in my room.”\n“Now.”\nHearing Pete’s snicker behind her father’s words worried her but she knew if she didn’t obey, he’d probably come and grab her forcefully, breaking down the door if he had to.\nHe only ever had two modes when he was drunk: pathetic or aggressive. And it seemed he was in the latter mode tonight.\n“Fine. Just… don’t get angry.”\nSlowly, and with a bit of shame, she walked to the kitchen doorway and entered. Pete’s eyes lit up like a kid’s on Christmas morning but her father’s contained merely contempt. She did her best to shield herself with her arms and legs, regretting her choice of clothing a lot more than she had back at the party.\nGesturing lazily towards her, Pete spoke with a deep, scary tone:\n“I see what you mean, Markus. She’s probably been out whoring all night again.”\nTaking that sort of talk from her father was one thing but not from him.\n“Fuck you, rabbit.”\nPete merely raised his eyebrows at that suggestion but her father slammed his fist against the table.\n“Don’t talk to him like that, Erica. Where have you been all night?”\n“At a party, dad. I know you’re not up on the concept of fun but it’s something people do now and then. Have fun.”\nThis was enough to make him raise his voice, a low growl edging every word.\n“Sit down before you make me really angry.”\nAnd he would get angry. Though looking directly at her, his eyes were unfocused and wavered back and forth slightly, breathing was shallow and it seemed to take him an eternity to get his thoughts together. Meanwhile, a quick glance at Pete suggested he was probably only on his second or third beer.\nThe risk of angering her father was nothing compared to the dread that made her feel as she sat down. Something was going on and Pete was behind it all.\n“Me and Pete have been talking today and we-“\nShe quickly interrupted him.\n“We?”\n“We… think it’s time to have a talk about what you’ve been getting up to.”\n“I haven’t gotten up to anything my friends aren’t getting up to.”\n“I know, and that’s what worries me. This country… it’s no good. It turned your mother against me and now it’s turning you against me. This would never have happened back home.”\nHis speech was so slow, almost to the point where she wanted to fill in the clichés she knew he was going to spew. How she’d already be married now and have a family, stability and a future.\nUtter and complete drivel, at least to her ears. She’d heard it before, even while her mother was alive but she’d always talked her father down. Now, there was no-one to defend her but herself.\n“No-one turned against you, dad. I’m just trying to live my life.”\nSuddenly his eyes sorrowed and his head drooped, body shivering lightly.\n“Life? What life is there without your mother here?”\n“Mom’s dead. Maybe it’s time to get over her?”\nShe had no idea why she had said that, especially like that. The thought had been there for a long time but she always figured he’d work through his sorrow on his own. So she had never said it.\nThe slap was lightning fast and she was so shocked she couldn’t even brace herself as her body twisted out of her chair and fell to the floor. As she hit the floor on her side, all air rushed out of her body and it was difficult to decide which pain to focus on first: her cheek, her lungs or the one in her heart. He’d never hit her before but ever since her mother died, he’d been edging closer to it.\nLooking up at him from the floor as he stood up, hand still stretched out, he suddenly looked far more like the man she remembered from her childhood. Like the mythological alpha male from the old country’s folklore: big, strong, dominant and with fiery eyes. Suddenly she didn’t just fear an argument, she feared for her life.\n“Dad, what the hell?”\nShe finally squeezed out as her lungs began to function again, grasping at her burning cheek. If he cared even a little, he didn’t show it. Instead he just advanced on her, eyes scarily focused on her, as if all the alcohol from before had evaporated.\n“How dare you talk about your mother that way?”\nBefore he had a chance to grab and throttle her, the figure of a rabbit appeared between them, holding his hands up to the advancing wolf.\n“Calm down there, Markus. Calm down.”\nThinking for a moment that Pete had not planned on things going quite so badly, she was almost about to thank him as her father visibly calmed down right before her eyes. Like a magic spell, his stupor was back and he slumped back down on a chair, grasping a handful of the fur on his head.\n“Shit. Sorry, Pete.”\n“It’s alright, Markus. You shouldn’t do anything stupid or the neighbors might call the cops.”\nFreezing in place, she realized he hadn’t saved her, not yet. He was working an angle and she had an inkling of an idea what it might be. And it scared her.\n“Look, I’m sorry, da-“\nBefore she had a chance to finish the sentence, her father barked quickly:\n“Shut up, Erica. You’re no daughter of mine.”\nAny other days, she’d take them as fighting words but today, such a statement was cause for real concern.\nAnd when Pete turned to look down at her with a wide grin, she knew everything had gone exactly as he had planned.\n“You shouldn’t say things like that. She’s still your daughter. She just needs to be taught a lesson.”\nScrambling to get up, Pete’s foot swiftly pressed against her shoulder and turned her over on her back, pinning her to the floor. Grabbing on to his foot, she began twisting and turning, expecting it to be easy to squirm out from under him. But he only needed to apply more pressure to get her to stop, a whimper escaping her throat.\nHer father shrugged slowly, taking a deep breath in the process.\n“I’ve tried everything. I don’t know what to do anymore.”\nEach word seemed to carry with it the risk of crying, voice trembling out of his muzzle. She couldn’t help but to notice his eyes were wet as well.\n“You said it yourself, Markus? Remember? All she really needs is a good man in her life, to show her what’s right?”\nHis words caused some memory to resurface in her father’s mind, making him pick himself up again, wiping some snot with his sleeve.\n“That’s right. You’re right. She needs a good husband.”\nSensing the pressure lessening somewhat, she quickly turned and threw his foot off from her. Feeling she had no choice but to run, she got up on all fours and prepared to dart out the kitchen and to the exit. But before even getting up on two, a pair of strong arms wrapped around her bare stomach tightly and lifted her straight up in the air, making her breathe in sharply.\nPete shouldn’t be this strong. But the pudgy body she was pressed against was unmistakably that of father’s rabbit friend. He held her aloft for a while, letting her kick and squirm all she wanted, feet only connecting with his soft flab. All she was doing was making him laugh and with his mouth so close to her ear, she couldn’t help but to shiver.\n“Come on, baby girl, don’t fight it so much.”\nHe whispered in her ear, the fur on her neck standing on edge.\nBefore she had a chance to retort, her world began to move rapidly again and her back slammed into something. It took her a while to realize she was lying down, staring up at the kitchen ceiling. But whatever she was lying on, wasn’t cold enough to be the floor and it was too high up. It had to be the table. Then Pete appeared above her, long ears silhouetted against the light. She could still pick out his brown fur and knew if she looked close enough, she’d find gray hairs all over him.\nAnd she could see his leer as he looked down on her dazed face.\n“There, much better.”\nRaising her head to get her bearings, she stared right into her father’s face. Sitting by the side of the table, nursing a beer in his hand, his eyes were locked with hers.\n“If only you’d listened to me…”\nAt the same time she felt Pete’s hand slip up her legs and grip her panties, starting to pull them down her legs forcefully.\nTrying to squeeze her legs shut to stop it from happening did little good and before she knew it, they slipped from her legs and were dropped casually on the floor. A small part of her was offended that their beauty hadn’t been observed.\nIt all happened so fast after that. She was flipped over on her stomach and pulled out so her hips were dangling over the side of the table, toes just barely touching the floor. Now she looked directly at her father, sitting in front of her as casually as if watching TV while his daughter was being raped. Was he going to intervene at some point, having only wanted to teach her a lesson?\nA glance down between his legs said otherwise, a bulge growing by his crotch that hadn’t been there minutes before. Not only did he approve of this, it was turning him on. The revelation made her sick, feeling the bile rise in her throat. Did he also want to fuck her? Was that coming next?\nFat fingers then wrapped around her neck and squeezed it tightly, making her yelp in pain and arc her back.\n“Shhhh, don’t scream or I break your pretty, little neck.”\nThough she was certain her father wouldn’t approve of her murder, she obeyed almost instantly, silencing all of her complaints while her skirt was being lifted and folded over her butt.\nThen she felt it. Something pressing against her sex, something warm, slick and bulbous. It wasn’t a finger, there was no fur or leathery pads to suggest it. It rubbed up and down for a few seconds, leaving a coating of something slimy in its wake, then, when it found her opening, it pressed against her dry folds hard, spreading them apart painfully.\n“Oh god, yes, you’re so tight, baby girl.”\nPete’s hoarse, excited voice made everything somehow worse. Knowing that she was losing her virginity, forcefully, to that fat bastard made the sick feeling come back tenfold. As he settled his weight down on her, his large stomach pressing her tightly against the table, she wanted to do nothing but scream, kick and bite but the look from her father said it would do nothing but drag it out. Even if someone came to help, Pete would have plenty of time to finish while her father stalled for time. Or even managed to get them to go away.\nWhile more and more of him pushed inside of her, his girth spreading her to her untrained limit, the pain was a constant reminder of what was going on. Her body was not ready nor willing and yet he persisted, the only lubrication that which pumped from his own cock. Even so, he never stopped until his crotch met hers, their bodies now intimately joined.\nHis labored breath came near her ear, soft little whimpers mingled between breaths as he adjusted his position. Bent over her like that, his thighs pressed tightly against hers, he had to put actual effort to get his face so close to her. She knew why as she felt his tongue against her ear, his moan following right after.\n“Are you enjoying it so far?”\nHis words made her buck lightly, wanting to throw him off in protest, but it only caused her more pain and his weight pinned her safely against the table.\nFor a moment she thought it was all over when he began pulling out, having proven his point, but about halfway out, he paused, shifted his legs a bit again then swiftly buried himself inside her again, making her cry out.\n“Shhh, don’t fret. It’ll be over soon.”\nPulling out and pushing back in again elicited a groan from deep within him, as did the next and the next. Soon, even the little pause between thrusts was abandoned, his hips moving at a regular pace, pumping his fat, short cock in and out of her without mercy.\nNo concern was given her state, her complete lack of wetness didn’t seem to hinder him much. All she could feel was him on top of her and his cock sliding in and out of her, causing him nothing but joy and her only pain. His arm came around her throat, squeezing lightly as if to say: ‘Scream and I strangle you.’ But she didn’t need any other reminder of her situation than when she looked into her father’s eyes, looking back at her with a hunger she’d never seen in him before. Part of her knew he’d be next. Yes, she needed a man but it wasn’t Pete. No, he was just the prelude to the wedding night.\nSoon he hit a pretty regular pace, still each thrust stirring a groan from his lips, and by now he had left enough of precum to coat her passage, making the rape even easier, spurring him on further. All sounds seemed to phase out of existence, replaced only with his labored breathing, groaning and the sounds of their bodies coming together with a rhythmic clapping.\nLittle by little, his groaning raised in volume as it fell out of rhythm with his now much faster thrusting. The force behind his hips was now enough to make the table creak in protest, pushing forward a fraction of an inch with each thrust, bringing her even closer to her father little by little.\nWhat little blessing it was, Pete soon had to lift himself off her, bracing himself with one arm on the table while the other held fast around her throat.\n“Fuck, gonna cum inside you. Do you want that, huh?”\nShe couldn’t answer, arm too tight to allow speech, but her lack of response didn’t seem to bother too much as his bucking reached a peak, not even pushing deep enough for their crotches to meet anyway.\nThen, with a soft shout and long, fading moan, he buried himself inside her completely again then stopped. For a second, she thought he’d had a heart attack and died but then he convulsed lightly on top of her and something exploded from the tip of his cock. His seed was now inside of her, pumping into her in thick, warm ropes that coated her insides liberally. If she’d been in heat, the amount alone would’ve guaranteed a pregnancy.\nShe couldn’t help but to cry at the thought of carrying his spawn inside her, knowing full well that her father would make her carry them to term. Both because of his beliefs but also to teach her a lesson.\nA few weak thrusts squeezed the last of the cum out of him, dribbling into her and joining the pool in her passage, then he collapsed on top of her without a care for her health. His hot, heavy breathing expelled right into her ear and she could feel something leaking out of her vagina and dripping down her legs. Blood or sperm, she didn’t care as the pain slowly transformed from a constant burning sensation to a dull throbbing.\nMinutes seemed to pass, no-one in the kitchen moved except for breathing. With the cum inside her, there was no more victory to be had by fighting back. Pete had deflowered her just as he had no doubt dreamed for years, her father just sat there, staring while holding an empty bottle in his hands and Erica could barely breathe, let alone move.\nWhen Pete finally got off her, pulling out of her in the same movement, it was like a cork being pulled out and she could feel a steady stream of cum pouring out. Her young body had not been made to accommodate the load of a fully grown, pent up adult rabbit, well known for their quantities.\n“Oh, wow, that was even better than I thought it would be.”\nShe didn’t dare look over her shoulder, not wanting to face what had just happened, but she heard the movement of cloth and the jangling of a belt buckle.\nPete was clearly done, having done up his pants properly. There was a brief glimmer of hope, wishing it was all over.\n“I’ll definitely be visiting more regularly from now.”\nHope dashed against the rocks of reality, she knew he meant it and short of running away, there was nothing she could do to stop him. Willingly or not, he’d take her again and again. Her distraught eyes met her father but now he was smiling.\n“Well, I guess I’ll be off then.”\nShe heard Pete’s voice behind her but didn’t believe it for a second.\nAnd yet, as she turned her head to the side, she saw him leave the kitchen without another word and the door soon opened and closed. She then turned back to look at her father that was slowly standing up, putting the beer bottle down next to her head.\n“Go to your room and get in the bed. I’ll be with you in a moment.”\nStrangely, her body just obeyed without question, getting up off the table, taking a moment to smooth her clothes out before she nodded and headed to her room.\nOnce there, she began undressing robotically, starting with her jacket and top. Folding all her clothing neatly and placing them on a chair, she then pulled the covers from her bed and climbed in, closing her eyes, hoping she could fall asleep before her father came in. Would that even bother him or would he go ahead and fuck her anyway?\nIt almost worked too, her exhaustion fading out the pain she still felt. Unfortunately it left her shame fully intact, perhaps even sharper than before. Thoughts ran through her mind at breakneck speeds and it all became a jumbled mess. Brian’s lips against hers fluttered by, quickly replaced with the taste of the earlier boy’s clumsy tongue in her mouth.\nShe heard the door open and close, ears perking but eyes refusing to open. She then heard clothing being removed and dropped on the floor and before long she felt how the bed gave way to her father’s weight as he sat down on the side.\n“Move over a bit, Erica.”\nShe did as she was told, shuffling over closer to the middle of the bed while her father lifted the covers from her body and climbed in on top of her before letting the covers down on them again.\n“Spread your legs.”\nAgain she did as she was told, moving her legs apart to let him in closer and immediately she felt something hard and slick press against her lower stomach. It slid further down her body as he moved himself into position, soon grinding against her still slick sex and threatening to spear her open.\nThen he let his weight settle on her, his warm body pressing her down in the mattress as his arms dug in under her shoulders. She had to turn her head to the side to stop her muzzle from being crushed into his chest.\n“I’ve missed this…”\nHe whispered in the dark before he moved his hips towards her.\nUnlike Pete’s blunt, bulbous end, her father’s cock was pointed and thanks to Pete’s work and cum, her cunt was far more inviting this time around. With practically no resistance he pushed into her, making her sob softly at how her body was betraying her, hilting her completely within seconds.\nWhat made it even worse was that the pain was nowhere near as intense. She wanted to put this down to the cum lubricating her but she knew it wasn’t the whole truth. While her father worked up a steady pace, sliding his throbbing meat in and out of her, the pain even began to fade more and more and a minute later, she let go of her first moan.\nShe liked it. She liked the feeling of her father’s dick inside her. She liked his weight on top of her and sharing his warmth.\n“That’s right. Just take it. Love it.”\nThere was a need to resist, her brain screaming at her to stop her father by any means necessary. But instead she lifted her legs and wrapped them around his thighs, daring him to try and pull too far out.\nThen she softly whispered to him:\n“Cum inside me, daddy. Please… cum inside me.”\nA few minutes later, he did. The first time of many.\n\nV. 1.00", "writing_bbcode_parsed": "Ever since her mother passed, Erica’s father had been in a bit of a slump. Once a handsome and desired man, now he had shaggy, unkempt, gray fur and a beer belly. He’d been someone important at work, someone people looked up to, now he was relegated to cleaning up other bosses’ projects when they neared completion without getting any credit for it. They couldn’t fire him but they could make his life miserable.
Luckily for her father, he didn’t care or he might have quit. These days he walked around in a daze, never smiling but never crying either. While she had worked through her mother’s death, at least somewhat, he still carried it around it around and let it dominate his life. She couldn’t help but to think that her mother would be so disappointed with him, letting life get to him this way.
The only social interaction he had outside of work was with Pete, the fat, old rabbit that lived two floors up. They’d only been acquaintances when her mother was still alive but as her father drove away all his other friends over the years, he was the only one that stuck around. Not only had he the audacity to try and seduce her, she’d once caught him going through her panties in the laundry room.
Granted, she wasn’t unused to older men making passes at her, especially her own wolf-kind. In the old country, she’d already be married off. Fourteen years old and still not pregnant with her first child, it would’ve been the stuff of rumors. Here, though, even the thought of marrying your daughter off was illegal and her mother had been quite outspoken about the old ways, much to the chagrin of her father at family reunions.
She thought of herself quite beautiful, inheriting her mother’s looks but her father’s physique. Well, his physique when he tried, anyway. Her breasts had begun developing a few years ago and now they were a decent size for a fourteen-year-old. Shopping for a bra without her mother had been a bit of a test and had almost brought her to tears once or twice but eventually she had gotten the help she needed and found just the right size. And without adult supervision, she’d picked out mostly practical ones but also two sexy ones.
All in all, she’d learned to become independent quickly in the wake of her mother’s death. The less her father had been capable to do, the more she had stepped up. Cooking and laundry were now her responsibilities as well as cleaning the apartment twice a month. At least her father did the dishes now and then.
The apartment wasn’t particularly big, a mere two rooms with a single bathroom and a kitchen. It had been impossible to stay in the big house and due to her father’s mental state, he’d made a bad deal when he sold it so all they could afford was this. At least she had a room to herself while her father slept in the living room. But they made do, no-one could call the Ivanovs quitters or whiners.
But even Erica had to admit things had been bad lately. Her father was becoming dangerously negligent at work and if he lost that, there was no telling what would happen. And this had only soured their relationship further at home. She barely had any social life to speak off between all her chores at home so the few times that she did take time with friends, she usually had to fight tooth and claw for it.
Just last week they’d had a massive argument about responsibility.
“Erica, you can’t just leave the apartment looking like a whore.”
He’d shout even though, in her opinion, she looked like any normal teenager.
“What the fuck, dad? I’m not a whore! I just want to go out and have fun with some friends.”
Shying back slightly when he raised his hands, she could see in his eyes that he was angry. But he calmed again and lowered it though his words were no kinder for that:
“If your friends dress like that, they’re all whores. Make sure to wear a condom cause I’m sure as hell not paying for no doctor visit when it starts itching.”
As always, the argument had ended when she stormed out the door, slamming it behind her. When she got home, he’d already drunk himself asleep in the sofa, TV blaring loudly. And, like all the other times, she put the blanket on him and turned off the TV and lights.
The last week had been colder between them than usual. He seemed to regret calling her a whore but not quite willing to retract it so an apology never came. And she didn’t take kindly to being called a whore. She was still a virgin, she hadn’t had a boyfriend since Brian five years ago and that was as innocent as it could get, barely a kiss on the lips. Dinners had been silent and any pleasantries exchanged short and to the point.
Today she had left without even talking to her father. It was Friday and after his comments last week, she saw no reason to get into an argument with him again. He was probably not in any better state of mind than he had been then, possibly even worse. And she didn’t relish the thought of being called a whore again. Dressed for a party, she wore a tight top that showed off her breasts quite nicely and a jacket to cover with if she felt it was needed. Bare midriff, of course, followed by a skirt that didn’t even reach halfway down her thighs and plenty of people had verified that she was wearing red, laced panties underneath.
Perhaps a bit of an overreaction to her father’s words, she none the less relished in the looks and attention it was getting her. It had even earned her the attention of some boys that wouldn’t have given her a second look just hours before. They seemed to take turns to sit next to her, press in against her and whisper sweet nothings in her ear and a few beers more, she might just take one of them up on it.
In the end, her modest upbringing won through, though, and the most she got involved with was some deep kissing with a boy from another school. Feeling the alcohol clouding her judgment, near midnight she decided it was time to go home. Plenty of people tried to convince her otherwise and she made a mental note of every boy that seemed to clamor for her attention. If they still felt the same way next week, she might make something happen.
On the ride home, the alcoholic fumes from her mind cleared significantly and a part of her thought she should just go back to the party. The rest of her, however, felt guilty about having left her father as she had so she decided it was time to try and bury the hatchet, at least for now. She just hoped she’d have a chance to change her clothes, or at least cover up, before they had a talk.

It was a little after 1 when the door to the apartment opened and a young wolf stepped through. The door opened straight into the dark living room and the only lights spilled in from outside and through the kitchen door. Closing the door silently behind her, she made a beeline for the door next to the kitchen door; her room.
From inside the kitchen she could hear voices chattering and the clinking of glass. Evidently her father was still up and he had company. At first, she dared hope that he’d invited some workmates over, perhaps start rebuilding his social network and start climbing the company ladder again. Instead she was disappointed when the only voices she could hear was her father and Pete’s.
There was no man in this world she despised quite as much as Pete. A fat, retired steel mill worker who lived a few apartments above theirs, he had been a constant pain in her mother’s behind. There wasn’t a woman he wouldn’t hit on or try to fondle when given an opportunity and when her mother died, his focus had changed to her instead. More than once she’d have to push him off when his hands got a bit too daring. But when she told her father, he called her a liar and sometimes added:
“Just like your mother.”
Exactly when the two had become friends was hard to say but Pete had played straight into her father’s conservative, traditional nature. Whenever he was around, it didn’t take long for the subject to become about how things had been better in the old days when women knew their place and children respected their elders.
Pete didn’t believe any of that, Erica knew for damn sure. He was just using it to get closer to her dad and, by proxy, her. She knew he’d been married once though she struggled to picture what kind of woman agreed to marry him. But they divorced more than two decades ago and he had no contact with his children or grandchildren, thankfully.
Just as she was about to push open her own door, her father’s voice rang out from the kitchen.
“Erica, come in here.”
The slur in his voice told her everything she needed to know; he was way past drunk.
“In a second, dad, I just need to get something in my room.”
“Now.”
Hearing Pete’s snicker behind her father’s words worried her but she knew if she didn’t obey, he’d probably come and grab her forcefully, breaking down the door if he had to.
He only ever had two modes when he was drunk: pathetic or aggressive. And it seemed he was in the latter mode tonight.
“Fine. Just… don’t get angry.”
Slowly, and with a bit of shame, she walked to the kitchen doorway and entered. Pete’s eyes lit up like a kid’s on Christmas morning but her father’s contained merely contempt. She did her best to shield herself with her arms and legs, regretting her choice of clothing a lot more than she had back at the party.
Gesturing lazily towards her, Pete spoke with a deep, scary tone:
“I see what you mean, Markus. She’s probably been out whoring all night again.”
Taking that sort of talk from her father was one thing but not from him.
“Fuck you, rabbit.”
Pete merely raised his eyebrows at that suggestion but her father slammed his fist against the table.
“Don’t talk to him like that, Erica. Where have you been all night?”
“At a party, dad. I know you’re not up on the concept of fun but it’s something people do now and then. Have fun.”
This was enough to make him raise his voice, a low growl edging every word.
“Sit down before you make me really angry.”
And he would get angry. Though looking directly at her, his eyes were unfocused and wavered back and forth slightly, breathing was shallow and it seemed to take him an eternity to get his thoughts together. Meanwhile, a quick glance at Pete suggested he was probably only on his second or third beer.
The risk of angering her father was nothing compared to the dread that made her feel as she sat down. Something was going on and Pete was behind it all.
“Me and Pete have been talking today and we-“
She quickly interrupted him.
“We?”
“We… think it’s time to have a talk about what you’ve been getting up to.”
“I haven’t gotten up to anything my friends aren’t getting up to.”
“I know, and that’s what worries me. This country… it’s no good. It turned your mother against me and now it’s turning you against me. This would never have happened back home.”
His speech was so slow, almost to the point where she wanted to fill in the clichés she knew he was going to spew. How she’d already be married now and have a family, stability and a future.
Utter and complete drivel, at least to her ears. She’d heard it before, even while her mother was alive but she’d always talked her father down. Now, there was no-one to defend her but herself.
“No-one turned against you, dad. I’m just trying to live my life.”
Suddenly his eyes sorrowed and his head drooped, body shivering lightly.
“Life? What life is there without your mother here?”
“Mom’s dead. Maybe it’s time to get over her?”
She had no idea why she had said that, especially like that. The thought had been there for a long time but she always figured he’d work through his sorrow on his own. So she had never said it.
The slap was lightning fast and she was so shocked she couldn’t even brace herself as her body twisted out of her chair and fell to the floor. As she hit the floor on her side, all air rushed out of her body and it was difficult to decide which pain to focus on first: her cheek, her lungs or the one in her heart. He’d never hit her before but ever since her mother died, he’d been edging closer to it.
Looking up at him from the floor as he stood up, hand still stretched out, he suddenly looked far more like the man she remembered from her childhood. Like the mythological alpha male from the old country’s folklore: big, strong, dominant and with fiery eyes. Suddenly she didn’t just fear an argument, she feared for her life.
“Dad, what the hell?”
She finally squeezed out as her lungs began to function again, grasping at her burning cheek. If he cared even a little, he didn’t show it. Instead he just advanced on her, eyes scarily focused on her, as if all the alcohol from before had evaporated.
“How dare you talk about your mother that way?”
Before he had a chance to grab and throttle her, the figure of a rabbit appeared between them, holding his hands up to the advancing wolf.
“Calm down there, Markus. Calm down.”
Thinking for a moment that Pete had not planned on things going quite so badly, she was almost about to thank him as her father visibly calmed down right before her eyes. Like a magic spell, his stupor was back and he slumped back down on a chair, grasping a handful of the fur on his head.
“Shit. Sorry, Pete.”
“It’s alright, Markus. You shouldn’t do anything stupid or the neighbors might call the cops.”
Freezing in place, she realized he hadn’t saved her, not yet. He was working an angle and she had an inkling of an idea what it might be. And it scared her.
“Look, I’m sorry, da-“
Before she had a chance to finish the sentence, her father barked quickly:
“Shut up, Erica. You’re no daughter of mine.”
Any other days, she’d take them as fighting words but today, such a statement was cause for real concern.
And when Pete turned to look down at her with a wide grin, she knew everything had gone exactly as he had planned.
“You shouldn’t say things like that. She’s still your daughter. She just needs to be taught a lesson.”
Scrambling to get up, Pete’s foot swiftly pressed against her shoulder and turned her over on her back, pinning her to the floor. Grabbing on to his foot, she began twisting and turning, expecting it to be easy to squirm out from under him. But he only needed to apply more pressure to get her to stop, a whimper escaping her throat.
Her father shrugged slowly, taking a deep breath in the process.
“I’ve tried everything. I don’t know what to do anymore.”
Each word seemed to carry with it the risk of crying, voice trembling out of his muzzle. She couldn’t help but to notice his eyes were wet as well.
“You said it yourself, Markus? Remember? All she really needs is a good man in her life, to show her what’s right?”
His words caused some memory to resurface in her father’s mind, making him pick himself up again, wiping some snot with his sleeve.
“That’s right. You’re right. She needs a good husband.”
Sensing the pressure lessening somewhat, she quickly turned and threw his foot off from her. Feeling she had no choice but to run, she got up on all fours and prepared to dart out the kitchen and to the exit. But before even getting up on two, a pair of strong arms wrapped around her bare stomach tightly and lifted her straight up in the air, making her breathe in sharply.
Pete shouldn’t be this strong. But the pudgy body she was pressed against was unmistakably that of father’s rabbit friend. He held her aloft for a while, letting her kick and squirm all she wanted, feet only connecting with his soft flab. All she was doing was making him laugh and with his mouth so close to her ear, she couldn’t help but to shiver.
“Come on, baby girl, don’t fight it so much.”
He whispered in her ear, the fur on her neck standing on edge.
Before she had a chance to retort, her world began to move rapidly again and her back slammed into something. It took her a while to realize she was lying down, staring up at the kitchen ceiling. But whatever she was lying on, wasn’t cold enough to be the floor and it was too high up. It had to be the table. Then Pete appeared above her, long ears silhouetted against the light. She could still pick out his brown fur and knew if she looked close enough, she’d find gray hairs all over him.
And she could see his leer as he looked down on her dazed face.
“There, much better.”
Raising her head to get her bearings, she stared right into her father’s face. Sitting by the side of the table, nursing a beer in his hand, his eyes were locked with hers.
“If only you’d listened to me…”
At the same time she felt Pete’s hand slip up her legs and grip her panties, starting to pull them down her legs forcefully.
Trying to squeeze her legs shut to stop it from happening did little good and before she knew it, they slipped from her legs and were dropped casually on the floor. A small part of her was offended that their beauty hadn’t been observed.
It all happened so fast after that. She was flipped over on her stomach and pulled out so her hips were dangling over the side of the table, toes just barely touching the floor. Now she looked directly at her father, sitting in front of her as casually as if watching TV while his daughter was being raped. Was he going to intervene at some point, having only wanted to teach her a lesson?
A glance down between his legs said otherwise, a bulge growing by his crotch that hadn’t been there minutes before. Not only did he approve of this, it was turning him on. The revelation made her sick, feeling the bile rise in her throat. Did he also want to fuck her? Was that coming next?
Fat fingers then wrapped around her neck and squeezed it tightly, making her yelp in pain and arc her back.
“Shhhh, don’t scream or I break your pretty, little neck.”
Though she was certain her father wouldn’t approve of her murder, she obeyed almost instantly, silencing all of her complaints while her skirt was being lifted and folded over her butt.
Then she felt it. Something pressing against her sex, something warm, slick and bulbous. It wasn’t a finger, there was no fur or leathery pads to suggest it. It rubbed up and down for a few seconds, leaving a coating of something slimy in its wake, then, when it found her opening, it pressed against her dry folds hard, spreading them apart painfully.
“Oh god, yes, you’re so tight, baby girl.”
Pete’s hoarse, excited voice made everything somehow worse. Knowing that she was losing her virginity, forcefully, to that fat bastard made the sick feeling come back tenfold. As he settled his weight down on her, his large stomach pressing her tightly against the table, she wanted to do nothing but scream, kick and bite but the look from her father said it would do nothing but drag it out. Even if someone came to help, Pete would have plenty of time to finish while her father stalled for time. Or even managed to get them to go away.
While more and more of him pushed inside of her, his girth spreading her to her untrained limit, the pain was a constant reminder of what was going on. Her body was not ready nor willing and yet he persisted, the only lubrication that which pumped from his own cock. Even so, he never stopped until his crotch met hers, their bodies now intimately joined.
His labored breath came near her ear, soft little whimpers mingled between breaths as he adjusted his position. Bent over her like that, his thighs pressed tightly against hers, he had to put actual effort to get his face so close to her. She knew why as she felt his tongue against her ear, his moan following right after.
“Are you enjoying it so far?”
His words made her buck lightly, wanting to throw him off in protest, but it only caused her more pain and his weight pinned her safely against the table.
For a moment she thought it was all over when he began pulling out, having proven his point, but about halfway out, he paused, shifted his legs a bit again then swiftly buried himself inside her again, making her cry out.
“Shhh, don’t fret. It’ll be over soon.”
Pulling out and pushing back in again elicited a groan from deep within him, as did the next and the next. Soon, even the little pause between thrusts was abandoned, his hips moving at a regular pace, pumping his fat, short cock in and out of her without mercy.
No concern was given her state, her complete lack of wetness didn’t seem to hinder him much. All she could feel was him on top of her and his cock sliding in and out of her, causing him nothing but joy and her only pain. His arm came around her throat, squeezing lightly as if to say: ‘Scream and I strangle you.’ But she didn’t need any other reminder of her situation than when she looked into her father’s eyes, looking back at her with a hunger she’d never seen in him before. Part of her knew he’d be next. Yes, she needed a man but it wasn’t Pete. No, he was just the prelude to the wedding night.
Soon he hit a pretty regular pace, still each thrust stirring a groan from his lips, and by now he had left enough of precum to coat her passage, making the rape even easier, spurring him on further. All sounds seemed to phase out of existence, replaced only with his labored breathing, groaning and the sounds of their bodies coming together with a rhythmic clapping.
Little by little, his groaning raised in volume as it fell out of rhythm with his now much faster thrusting. The force behind his hips was now enough to make the table creak in protest, pushing forward a fraction of an inch with each thrust, bringing her even closer to her father little by little.
What little blessing it was, Pete soon had to lift himself off her, bracing himself with one arm on the table while the other held fast around her throat.
“Fuck, gonna cum inside you. Do you want that, huh?”
She couldn’t answer, arm too tight to allow speech, but her lack of response didn’t seem to bother too much as his bucking reached a peak, not even pushing deep enough for their crotches to meet anyway.
Then, with a soft shout and long, fading moan, he buried himself inside her completely again then stopped. For a second, she thought he’d had a heart attack and died but then he convulsed lightly on top of her and something exploded from the tip of his cock. His seed was now inside of her, pumping into her in thick, warm ropes that coated her insides liberally. If she’d been in heat, the amount alone would’ve guaranteed a pregnancy.
She couldn’t help but to cry at the thought of carrying his spawn inside her, knowing full well that her father would make her carry them to term. Both because of his beliefs but also to teach her a lesson.
A few weak thrusts squeezed the last of the cum out of him, dribbling into her and joining the pool in her passage, then he collapsed on top of her without a care for her health. His hot, heavy breathing expelled right into her ear and she could feel something leaking out of her vagina and dripping down her legs. Blood or sperm, she didn’t care as the pain slowly transformed from a constant burning sensation to a dull throbbing.
Minutes seemed to pass, no-one in the kitchen moved except for breathing. With the cum inside her, there was no more victory to be had by fighting back. Pete had deflowered her just as he had no doubt dreamed for years, her father just sat there, staring while holding an empty bottle in his hands and Erica could barely breathe, let alone move.
When Pete finally got off her, pulling out of her in the same movement, it was like a cork being pulled out and she could feel a steady stream of cum pouring out. Her young body had not been made to accommodate the load of a fully grown, pent up adult rabbit, well known for their quantities.
“Oh, wow, that was even better than I thought it would be.”
She didn’t dare look over her shoulder, not wanting to face what had just happened, but she heard the movement of cloth and the jangling of a belt buckle.
Pete was clearly done, having done up his pants properly. There was a brief glimmer of hope, wishing it was all over.
“I’ll definitely be visiting more regularly from now.”
Hope dashed against the rocks of reality, she knew he meant it and short of running away, there was nothing she could do to stop him. Willingly or not, he’d take her again and again. Her distraught eyes met her father but now he was smiling.
“Well, I guess I’ll be off then.”
She heard Pete’s voice behind her but didn’t believe it for a second.
And yet, as she turned her head to the side, she saw him leave the kitchen without another word and the door soon opened and closed. She then turned back to look at her father that was slowly standing up, putting the beer bottle down next to her head.
“Go to your room and get in the bed. I’ll be with you in a moment.”
Strangely, her body just obeyed without question, getting up off the table, taking a moment to smooth her clothes out before she nodded and headed to her room.
Once there, she began undressing robotically, starting with her jacket and top. Folding all her clothing neatly and placing them on a chair, she then pulled the covers from her bed and climbed in, closing her eyes, hoping she could fall asleep before her father came in. Would that even bother him or would he go ahead and fuck her anyway?
It almost worked too, her exhaustion fading out the pain she still felt. Unfortunately it left her shame fully intact, perhaps even sharper than before. Thoughts ran through her mind at breakneck speeds and it all became a jumbled mess. Brian’s lips against hers fluttered by, quickly replaced with the taste of the earlier boy’s clumsy tongue in her mouth.
She heard the door open and close, ears perking but eyes refusing to open. She then heard clothing being removed and dropped on the floor and before long she felt how the bed gave way to her father’s weight as he sat down on the side.
“Move over a bit, Erica.”
She did as she was told, shuffling over closer to the middle of the bed while her father lifted the covers from her body and climbed in on top of her before letting the covers down on them again.
“Spread your legs.”
Again she did as she was told, moving her legs apart to let him in closer and immediately she felt something hard and slick press against her lower stomach. It slid further down her body as he moved himself into position, soon grinding against her still slick sex and threatening to spear her open.
Then he let his weight settle on her, his warm body pressing her down in the mattress as his arms dug in under her shoulders. She had to turn her head to the side to stop her muzzle from being crushed into his chest.
“I’ve missed this…”
He whispered in the dark before he moved his hips towards her.
Unlike Pete’s blunt, bulbous end, her father’s cock was pointed and thanks to Pete’s work and cum, her cunt was far more inviting this time around. With practically no resistance he pushed into her, making her sob softly at how her body was betraying her, hilting her completely within seconds.
What made it even worse was that the pain was nowhere near as intense. She wanted to put this down to the cum lubricating her but she knew it wasn’t the whole truth. While her father worked up a steady pace, sliding his throbbing meat in and out of her, the pain even began to fade more and more and a minute later, she let go of her first moan.
She liked it. She liked the feeling of her father’s dick inside her. She liked his weight on top of her and sharing his warmth.
“That’s right. Just take it. Love it.”
There was a need to resist, her brain screaming at her to stop her father by any means necessary. But instead she lifted her legs and wrapped them around his thighs, daring him to try and pull too far out.
Then she softly whispered to him:
“Cum inside me, daddy. Please… cum inside me.”
A few minutes later, he did. The first time of many.

V. 1.00", "pools_count": 0, "title": "Ghosts of the Old Country", "deleted": "f", "public": "t", "mimetype": "text/rtf", "pagecount": "1", "rating_id": "2", "rating_name": "Adult", "ratings": [ { "content_tag_id": "4", "name": "Sexual Themes", "description": "Erotic imagery, sexual activity or arousal", "rating_id": "2" } ], "submission_type_id": "12", "type_name": "Writing - Document", "guest_block": "t", "friends_only": "f", "comments_count": "8", "views": "981" }