A Huntress Brought Low

Story by Lautus on SoFurry

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The huntress, a fierce tigress, has guarded her valley successfully against many foes. Her luck is about to run out.


*WARNING: * This story is chock full of rape.

The huntress was the master of her valley and had been for some time, though she was still young. It was a sharp walled place, ribbed with granite, a narrow river curling from the north before narrowing into a frothing torrent that pressed its way through the erosion smoothed bottom of a sheer stone walled canyon.

The land beyond there was unknown to the huntress but she felt no real curiosity. The valley was enough and always had been. It was her mandate, and the thought of leaving never existed as more than a flicker in her mind.

She was towards the northern edge when she smelled the smoke. The valley north was wider than the rockier, rougher south. There the hills and ridges were not so steep and the river was framed by birches and aspens, their leaves a full verdant green, emboldened by the warmth of a temperate summer.

The scent stopped the huntress dead, almost in mid pace. There had been just the faintest hint of it, almost lost amidst the vastness of the air, but it was enough to let her know she was not mistaken. And when she looked very carefully from a high place the huntress could see a needle thin pillar of silvery smoke winding into the cloudless blue sky.

She traced its languid path back down to where it disappeared close to the riverbank. She thought she knew where it was, a flat spit of finely crushed gravel that extended a few yards into the river, nestled beneath the rise of a hill. The trees were thick there, shadowy and perfect for creeping through.

Whoever had set the fire clearly wasn't worried about being ambushed.

...Had they really not heard of her?

The huntress curled her lip and stood straight, eyes locked on the smoke. How many more outsiders would she have to scatter before they stopped coming altogether? It seemed that no matter how many she sent packing, arrows hissing past their ears, they never learned...

Still, she'd have been lying if she said she didn't get a thrill out of the whole exercise. It made her feel vital and powerful like nothing else, like she stopped being strictly herself and was instead imbued with the ability to become, in a small way, an arbiter of the valley's protection.

She took her time to get ready before setting out, stretching her arms over her head. The huntress was tall, six feet of lean muscle beneath a silky coat of orange and black striped fur, her lean build earned by many trips all along the length of the valley.

The huntress wasn't wearing much, the day was warm and still, no breeze to stir the gathering heat. She'd almost gone bare chested but decided not to, if only so the woven strap holding her arrow quiver tight to her back wouldn't chafe.

She'd taken the shirt she was wearing from an outsider. It was a light blousey thing that she'd dyed until it was a dappled forest green, and though the airy fabric it was made of was beginning to accumulate a fair few holes, she still liked it quite well.

Her pants were of her own make, buckskin leggings that hugged her hips and were just loose enough to allow for unrestricted motion. All in all, the huntress thought she looked quite fierce. Not that the outsiders would necessarily see her until she wanted them to, but once they did...

She moved in the direction of the smoke, tracing an arc along the northern side of the valley as she did so, trying to determine if the outsiders had been away from the river. She checked the deer trails and berry bushes, the spots where her valley's bounties were most obviously represented, yet they were undisturbed. She saw no traps and heard only the presence of the living things that were meant to be there.

Perhaps they had only just arrived. She hoped that was the case, the valley was large enough that she couldn't be everywhere at once, and she would have been embarrassed if she'd allowed the invasion to gain more than a momentary foothold.

There were still no visual traces of the outsiders' presence as the huntress slipped close to the river, the steady rush of its waters tickling the edges of her hearing, but she was picking up new scents.

Curling in from underneath the smoke was a richer scent, that of cooking meat. So the outsiders were hunters, intent on plundering her valley.

That wouldn't do.

But though she felt a hot bloom of anger expand within her, the huntress kept her approach slow and quiet. There would be nothing to gain by simply rushing in and giving the outsiders a pitched battle. She'd probably win, she told herself, but it would be risky. And she didn't especially like risk.

First she'd have to take a look at where the outsiders had set up camp, how many of them there were and what weapons they had. Only then could she start deciding what to do.

More scents came as she drew closer. Leather and polished wood, sap from recently felled aspens, and beneath all of that the faint scent of the outsiders themselves.

There were...she thought she could smell two, maybe three. One had daubed their fur with lavender, another smelled faintly of tobacco. She couldn't tell their kind yet, but it was something small and lively, nothing carnivorous, nothing predatory.

Then she was at the crest of the hill overlooking the river, dropping onto her stomach as she reached it. The trees thinned below her, a stand of aspens giving way to the river's flat, rocky bank. A few of the aspens had been chopped down and the gap where they had once stood gave the huntress a view onto the little spit where the outsiders had set up their camp.

There was a boat tugged halfway onto the shore, a rope running from its prow to a boulder just short of the tree line. It was wide and square, with high sides and a little canvas sided cabin sitting towards the rear. The huntress had seen boats like this before, some large and imposing, others smaller and clearly cobbled together from whatever had been on hand. This latest craft was somewhere between the two extremes, competently crafted but clearly not meant for war. An arrow would whisper straight through the canvas siding, and from her elevated position the huntress could see every inch of the boat. Nowhere would be safe.

...If the outsiders were aboard at least. They were not, the boat was completely empty.

Her eyes turned to the rest of the camp they'd erected in proud defiance to her stewardship. There was a single wooden framed tent, large and tall, constructed from stiff white canvas. It looked almost like a larger version of the cabin on their boat, though the huntress could see ropes leading off here and there, keeping the whole construction upright.

Outside its front door was the fire she'd smelled, a smoldering little thing with a drying rack sat atop it, padded with moss, smoke filtering through.

Oh. Not hunters....fishers.

Still, the fish belonged to her just as much as the game animals and anything else in the valley. Once again the huntress' lip curled, a sharp feline fang exposed.

More drying racks sat off to the side, freshly constructed, awaiting their own loads of fish. She supposed that was where the outsiders had gone off to, they were probably scouting along the river, seeing where the fish were thickest.

Then they'd do their level best to strip the whole place bare.

Again the huntress sniffed the air, trying to separate the almost overwhelming cacophony of foreign scents that muddled the air over the camp. Fish and lamp oil, tallow and again the scents of the outsiders. There was the faintest of breezes coming off the river, wafting the scent towards her.

Yes...there had to be three of them.

She remained where she was, on her stomach, staring down at the camp.

Were they inside of the tent? Though she was barely twenty meters away the huntress knew she wouldn't be able to hear them if they were, the rush of the river drowned out any small sounds made by-

A twig snapped to her left and she stiffened, instinct forcing her to duck lower, eyes flashing in the direction of the sound.

For a moment she saw nothing, then came a steady, assured sort of movement, a figure stepping out from behind a tree. It was only a few yards away, the person there heading uphill, their path angled vaguely towards her.

It was one of the outsiders, the huntress realized, a rabbit with cream white fur, dressed in baggy short pants and a white blouse that was strangely similar to hers. Perhaps it had become the fashion in the strange, barbaric lands of the outsiders.

...She'd have to reconsider wearing hers in the future if that was the case.

He didn't seem to be carrying a dedicated weapon, only a horn handled knife sheathed at one hip. Not too bad.

For a moment the huntress weighed the possibility of shooting him, but there was more movement now, another rabbit, this one with ashy gray fur, stepping from the tent and taking a deep drink from a round woods canteen.

Unlike his fellow he had a long gun with him, the weapon nearly as tall as him, its twin barrels doubtlessly filled with a scattering load of steel and death. The flint was in but not raked back. Not yet. Still, the huntress knew that a skilled outsider could load and fire one in quick succession if pressed enough. She'd seen a nattily dressed calico cat bring down a pair of ducks in quick succession with two shots from a similar weapon.

Had she killed him or merely scared him away?

She couldn't remember.

Again she tried to formulate a plan of action. Shoot the rabbit with the long gun and then deal with his fellow? Or...

No. There was the third, stepping out from around the tent to greet his fellow. His fur was golden and he seemed a bit younger than his fellows, though his presence was still worrying. There were rabbits popping up from everywhere.

The huntress grimaced to herself and shuffled backwards a few feet, until she was at the base of a birch, at least somewhat hidden from view from the approaching rabbit.

He looked to be on an innocent stroll, hands tucked behind his back, taking in the scenery. He'd pass within a few feet of her if she remained still. As the rabbit drew closer the huntress sized him up. He was small and slight, all of the rabbits were, she had to have at least a foot on him. Surely it wouldn't be difficult to bring him down silently and then figure out how to deal with his two companions.

Ahead of her, the white rabbit paused, almost on top of where she'd been lying, but he didn't look down at the disturbed vegetation, which suddenly seemed so apparent to the huntress that she nearly leapt at him right then and there, instead he turned to look back down at the camp and waved to his fellows.

Oh right, he was within eyeshot of his companions, the gap in the aspens assured that.

"Come up here," he called, "I know where we can put more fish traps!"

Come up? Shit.

The tigress pressed herself flatter. She was close enough to the rabbit and removed enough from the noise of the river that he'd either see or hear her if she moved.

And now he was bringing his companions up.

"Should we wake ... up?" Called one of the other rabbits. He'd said a name, she knew that, but it was strange enough that it seemed to glance off her brain. Fine. She had no interest in learning barbaric outsider names and customs.

Still, she had to do something. They were coming, and if she waited much longer then she'd be dealing with...

Wait. They'd mentioned waking someone up. There were four potential assailants, not three.

That was even worse. The huntress shifted in place, grinding her teeth quietly, wishing she had the space to bring up her bow and put an arrow into the white rabbit's back. But she didn't, she'd have to stand in order to get a decent angle on the rabbit and he'd definitely notice her. If he had any sense he'd jump down the hill to baffle her shot, she'd miss and all surprise would be lost.

"Sure," the white rabbit called in response to his companion's question, "just get up here!"

The camp was perhaps twenty meters away. If the other rabbits hurried, as their companion wanted them to, they'd be with him in mere moments. She had to act. If she rose silently enough then maybe she could make a quick shot with her bow, nothing fancy, it didn't even necessarily have to be fatal. Perhaps a nasty wound would be enough to scare them away.

Still, the huntress couldn't dispel a sense of foreboding. The way she hadn't noticed the white rabbit as he inadvertently flanked her. The way the noise of the river had kept her from accurately ascertaining the location and number of her enemies. Perhaps she'd been too quick to approach. She should have waited until nightfall, then gone scouting.

It was too late for regret, she delicately withdrew an arrow, flint tipped and fletched with the iridescent feathers off a green duck's wings. It nocked smoothly and before she could give herself any more reasons to feel doubt, the huntress popped up.

Her shoulder scraped the side of the birch and the rabbit spun around as she loosed the arrow, jerking reflexively to the side as she loosed, one foot losing purchase on the crest of the hill.

That little stumble probably saved his life. The huntress watched, seemingly in slow motion, as her arrow sliced the air, skimming barely an inch from the rabbit's right cheek before disappearing over the river. He caught himself against a tree, eyes going wide as he realized just what had happened. There was shock there but it was quickly dispersing, the rabbit knew that he was in trouble and would need to act quickly if he wanted to survive.

The huntress went for her knife, bone handled and wickedly sharp, the steel blade clearing its leather sheath as she launched herself forward, knife sweeping out in a vicious arc.

She expected the rabbit to run or go for his own blade, but instead he did neither. Shifting to the side, so his back was firmly against the birch he'd just arrested his fall with, he braced himself and then lashed out with both feet. The huntress had just enough time to try to twist out of the way before the white rabbit's kick caught her full in the chest and sent her spinning away.

She didn't quite go tumbling down the hill, she was agile enough to arrest her fall and land more or less on her paws and knees, but her breath was gone and she staggered into an aspen, frightening a small flock of finches away as she realized that her paw was empty. She'd lost her knife.

From below her the huntress heard a shout and glanced quickly back in the direction of the camp. The gray rabbit and his golden companion were running for the tree line, the gray rabbit gripping tight to his long gun, cursing as the flint bounced free. For a moment she thought he might try to fire it anyway, but instead he tossed it down and kept running.

Still, the situation was beyond repair. She didn't want to fight this, it would be best to run and regroup. The outsiders would be on guard now, but she'd still get them. It would just have to be later.

She forced herself back onto stabler footing on the crest of the hill, only to be met by a blur of flashing steel. She ducked, the white rabbit's knife whirling over her head, glancing off of an aspen before spinning down the hill.

Had he just...?

Motherfucker.

the huntress started forward, chest burning, breath still not entirely recovered, the white rabbit's expression shifting once more into something close to panic as he realized he's just thrown his only weapon away.

From behind her the huntress heard a shout, the others were closing in, soon enough they'd be right on top of her. As badly as she wanted to rip the white rabbit up, she simply had no time.

She snatched her bow up, turning to retreat into the woods...only to be interrupted by a loud, almost buzzing hum. For a half second her mind registered confusion, then the golden rabbit's bolo took her legs out from under her.

The huntress landed hard on her side, losing what little breath she'd managed to get back. She kept grip on her bow and groped for her quiver, but it had been knocked high, the strap tight against her throat, she couldn't quite get her paw in amongst the arrows.

The white rabbit, realizing what had happened, flung himself headlong right into her, grabbing fro her bow. The huntress grabbed hold of her assailant's ear and twisted hard, the rabbit yelping as she tugged him closer, mouth opening, fangs exposed even as she tried to wriggle her legs, which were bound tightly together just below the knees.

The white rabbit shoved a paw hard against her throat but he wasn't strong enough to prevent the huntress from turning over and pinning him to the grass. For a moment his throat was exposed. She darted in-

And was hit from the side by something that smelled faintly of pipe tobacco. The gray rabbit forced the huntress off of his companion, her teeth clicking shut on air, the white rabbit winding his legs up before kicking her in the stomach with both feet, hard enough to flip her against the birch she'd been hiding behind before the whole fight had even begun.

The back of the huntress' head hit wood and suddenly there were stars, the world as a whole swirling inconsequentially around her, all context unmoored from the situation at hand. The gray rabbit, his lower half pinned between her and the birch, scrabbled for one of her arms, the white rabbit grabbing the other.

The golden rabbit, panting for breath, reached the top of the hill and, without hesitation, flung himself onto the huntress' legs, pinning her even more fully in place.

"What happened? What happened?" A fourth voice, bleary with sleep, called from just out of sight.

"Rope!" Grunted the gray rabbit in lieu of an answer, "get some rope!"

The huntress tried to squirm free but only succeeded in collapsing onto her side, bound legs refusing to articulate. The rabbits pressed her onto her front before she could try to bite them and suddenly she was trapped, the golden rabbit planting himself between her shoulder blades, the huntress wheezing as she struggled to fill her lungs.

Again she tried to work her legs free but the bolo held tight. The only part of her she did seem to be able to move was her tail, which thrashed helplessly as she listened to the fourth rabbit approach.

His fur was midnight black, mussed and disheveled. Still, his bleariness hadn't stopped him from fetching a considerable amount of thin cord, which the golden rabbit used to bind the huntress' ankles together before undoing his bolo.

The huntress tried to fight and buck and thrash but the rabbits, weaker than her individually, were clearly very used to working together. Patiently, grunting with effort, they pinioned her arms behind her back, the golden furred rabbit tying her before deftly sliding a paw under her chin and wrenching her head upwards until she couldn't open her mouth, slipping her muzzle into a loop of cord that he drew so tight it brought tears to the huntress' eyes.

She snarled at them as best she could but it was clear that she was beaten, they'd bound every inch of her that could have given them significant resistance. But...why?

Why hadn't they just killed her? That was clearly what she'd been about to do to them. Were they going to pack her back to their own lands and study her? Was she to be placed on display and poked and prodded?

The thought was horrible enough that the huntress' next attempt at resistance nearly dislodged the golden furred rabbit. He drove the points of his knees harder into her back in retaliation, until the huntress yelped behind the cord binding her muzzle and then was still.

"What is she?" The black furred rabbit asked after a moment.

"A tiger." The gray rabbit muttered, sagging against the birch, completely spent.

"I know...just didn't think there was anyone up here."

"She's savage," the white rabbit said, "...that's what she is. Nearly bit my throat out."

"You're welcome, by the way." The gray rabbit said.

"Yeah."

They fell silent, simply staring once more before exchanging silent looks. One nod turned into four, then they were bundling her down the hill.

The rabbits weren't quite strong enough to carry her, even together, and so the huntress found herself being bumped and shifted along, which wasn't pleasant even before she got to the gravel beach the rabbits had made camp on. By the time they let her down next to the spare drying rack she was almost relieved. Her limbs were trembling, wrists, ankles and muzzle sore from her bindings. She tried to strain against them but only succeeded in hurting herself, the cord was solid and held in place without even a hint of give.

Curling her fingers down towards her wrists she could just barely tickle the cords with the tips of her claws, but it wasn't enough to do any damage. All she could do was growl, and even then not very loudly.

The rabbits had gathered into a cluster between her and fire, talking quietly, doubtlessly discussing what to do with her. The huntress tried to bunch her legs up and maybe kick one of them into the coals but the white rabbit saw what she was doing and moved away, scowling at her.

She glared back, open hatred in her eyes.

The discussion continued, the rabbits glancing back at her every so often. Their expressions were different now, in a way that the huntress thought she recognized, but...

Her stomach shriveled and for the first time she began to feel properly afraid, ears flattening, growl heightening. The black rabbit separated from his fellows and trotted over to the boat, hopping gracefully over the side and disappearing not the cabin.

The remaining three rabbits broke their huddle, forming into a little circle, the golden rabbit kneeling by her side, a paw darting under her shirt to squeeze a white furred breast.

The huntress lashed out as best she could but the golden rabbit held her steady, the white rabbit running a paw along the inside of her thigh, undeterred by the huntress' efforts to squeeze her legs shut.

There were tears in her eyes now, a sick sense of helplessness welling up within her. There was no help coming, no clear way to resist what was about to happen to her. The huntress was not so inexperienced as to be ignorant of what was about to happen, but she wished she was. It would be less painful then, she thought, if she didn't know the significance of what was being taken from her.

The black rabbit returned from the boat, practically vibrating with excitement, his arms full of strange new items. There were what looked like leather mittens, which the rabbits lost no time in fitting over the huntress' paws...and a similar leather device that...

They freed her muzzle, the huntress blinking for a moment, caught by surprise. She glared back and forth, trying to look fierce, showing her teeth. The golden rabbit tried to grope her again and she snapped at him, only for the gray rabbit to catch her by the ear and wrench her head to the side.

She yowled, jerking in place as the gray rabbit twisted her ear, then the leather tube was going over her muzzle, a strap being fastened around the back of her head. It was tight enough that she couldn't open her mouth more than a fraction of an inch. Snarling, she tried to rub the side of her head against the ground, desperate to be free of the thing, but she was being flipped onto her back, a meshwork of wood beneath her rather than gravel.

They'd put her onto the drying rack, she realized. For a half second her thoughts reeled with confusion, was she about to be cooked?

Instead the rabbits bound her spread eagle, wrestling the huntress into place until she was panting with exhaustion, furious tears welling at the corners of her eyes as the white rabbit cut her pants off with...

Was that her own knife?

The huntress tried to scream at him but only succeeded in producing a strangled howl. Then her ruined pants were being tugged down, her shirt torn completely away, reduced to so many useless shreds of fabric.

There was an impatience in the air now, the rabbits' movements becoming quicker, a sense of formality lost entirely. There wasn't any need for caution now, their quarry had been defeated and tied down. Now it was time to humiliate her.

The golden rabbit let out a slow breath, eyes running over the huntress' naked body, the snowy white fur that covered her front and the little ebony slit that was nestled between her legs. Still she tried to close them, but they'd been pinioned what felt like entire miles apart. Her vulnerability was complete.

Rather than speak or protest or shout, because she could do none of those things, the huntress simply shook her head, eyes squeezing shut, rage and helplessness and terror frothing within her, almost too great to be contained.

As the rabbits stripped down, eager paws darting out to pinch her nipples or sample the velvety insides of her thighs, the black rabbit uncorked a little bottle and poured a slow dollop of something transparent onto an outstretched pair of fingers, erection tenting his pants as he slicked her pussy with oil, pushing a pair of slippery fingers inside the huntress' feline slit.

She shrieked her protests but they were so muffled that the rabbits barely seemed to notice, watching as the huntress writhed in place, trying to escape the black rabbit's efforts.

He set the bottle of oil aside and tugged down his pants, a pink tapered length flopping free, batting the side of the huntress' knee as it did. He was surprisingly big, all of them were, their lengths throbbing impatiently, pre beading at their pointed tips.

The fingering didn't hurt, per say, the oil's slickness prevented any real physical pain, but still the huntress groaned through the leather binding her muzzle, tears cutting tracks through her fur.

She felt sick. Used. Violated. There wasn't a thing she could do to stop this from happening, and the simple knowledge of that made everything so much worse. Again she strained to break her bonds, to splinter the drying rack, but both were too strong for even her efforts to sunder.

The black rabbit dragged his fingers free from her slick pussy, panting with lust, and watched as the golden rabbit took his place between her legs, the head of his cock pressing against her silken slit for a single moment before sinking in.

It had been his bolo that had taken her down, the huntress remembered sickly. That he had come to finish the job wasn't surprising.

The golden rabbit hilted into her on his first thrust, the huntress whimpering, a deep ache radiating through her. Her assailant's cock was quite a bit thicker than she'd initially thought and the pain throbbed relentlessly through her, fading only slightly as the golden rabbit took his pleasure, rocking her in place, face buried between her breasts.

Even if she could shut her eyes the huntress couldn't ignore the feeling of the rabbit's member plunging into her, the weight of his body on hers or the relentless slap of his hips meeting hers.

He panted as he fucked her, hot breath on her breasts, the rabbit's paws gripping hard to her sides. She squirmed, snarling under her breath, but there was nothing she could do to dissuade the rabbit from clutching her to himself, his claws scoring her sides as he tried to pound her even harder.

Then he was stiffening, pressing his body against hers, gasping as he rolled his hips, cock jerking inside of her, a scalding spray of seed soiling her insides.

The huntress stared at the sky, feeling broken.

This was it. It couldn't get any worse.

But she was wrong.

The white rabbit had her next, paws finding her breasts as he sank his length into her cum streaked hole, seeming to put special effort into being as rough as possible, paying her back for attacking him.

The huntress tried to snarl and growl but her defiance broke apart into whimpers as he hammered into her, seeming to relish the way her feline cunt clenched down on his length each time he dug his claws into her.

The huntress stared desperately around her, trying to find something to take her mind off of the terrible situation she was in, but her eyes kept drifting back to the remaining rabbits.

This wasn't going to be over for a long while.

The white rabbit chose not to finish inside of her, instead letting his cock slip out of the huntress' abused pussy. Straddling her chest, he stroked a paw along his cock and came with a grunt, hot spurts of cum streaking the huntress' face. Though she squeezed her eyes shut she still caught a glimpse of her assailant's face as he marked her. There was deliberation there. He knew exactly what he was doing.

She recoiled as best she could but it wasn't enough, the heat of his seed seemed to sink through her fur.

Again she tried to growl but it burst apart into a sob as the gray rabbit took her, his throbbing length stretching her aching hole. The black rabbit was openly masturbating behind him, cock jerking in place as he stroked it, his length slick with pre and oil alike. The look of desperation on his face only grew more intense the longer he watched his comrade fuck the weeping tigress, the gray rabbit hilting himself into her one last time, flooding her sodden pussy with another thick load of cum.

The black rabbit was on top of her almost immediately, jamming his cock roughly into her pussy, eliciting a strangled whimper from the huntress. For a moment he positioned himself, gasping quietly as he savored the sensation of her pussy around his cock, then he was hammering into her, his pace almost impossibly fast, face screwed up with determination.

It didn't take him long to cum, balls tightening against the underside of the huntress' tail as the black rabbit cried out, dumping yet another load into her cum dripping pussy.

The huntress tried to steady herself but there was no center around which she could form even a remote semblance of calm. Everything had been ripped to shreds, her reality was broken and gone, ground to powder by the horrible thing that had just happened.

She trembling and whimpered, tears leaking from her eyes, pseudo sobs working loose from deep in her chest. Her heartbeat had gone uneven and jagged, almost to the point that the huntress wished it wouldn't correct itself.

It would be better to die, she decided, than be violated even once more.

But nothing of the sort happened. Her heart gradually slowed and the rabbits clothed themselves, each looking more content than the last, a muted sort of excitement hovering over them as the realization sank in of what exactly the huntress represented.

She was something fierce and frightening since brought low and bound. Her body, tightly muscled and lean, once used for sneaking and skulking and killing, was now theirs and theirs alone.

"So, uh...what now?" The black rabbit asked.

"Another round?" The gray rabbit asked, smirking at the way the huntress cringed from his words.

"Well..." The black rabbit hesitated, reluctantly dragging himself back to his original query, "do we just keep her on the rack? What now?"

"Well, she'd rip us up if we untied her." The golden rabbit said with a shrug.

"Maybe we could give her some poppy tincture." The black rabbit suggested.

...Tincture? The huntress stiffened. She didn't know what that was, but after everything else it had to be bad.

The rabbits nodded slowly, warming to their fellow's suggestion.

"Not too much," the white rabbit warned, "just enough to make her docile."

The black rabbit, freshly excited, disappeared into the tent, coming back with a little brown glass bottle. The huntress snarled deep in her throat, some resolve restored. There was an objective threat now, this...tincture stuff.

The golden rabbit smirked at her fearful resistance, reaching down to cup her breasts, eliciting a fresh snarl of outrage from her. Could he feel her heart thrumming under his paws. Could he feel the way she was trembling?

The white rabbit knelt just above her, clamping her head between his knees, restricting all movement as he undid the leather piece her muzzle had been forced into. Though she knew it was impossible the huntress tried to snap and bite anyway, her vain display of resistance resulting only in smirks.

They weren't especially afraid of her anymore, she realized sickly. They knew she was dangerous and were clearly taking precautions, but at the same time the rabbits knew they could beat her. She was no longer a frightening unknown, just a conquered constant.

The black rabbit carefully measured out a portion of honey colored liquid into the metal cap of the bottle he held and moved to give it to her. The huntress held her mouth shut, glaring up at him. They could do whatever they wanted, she decided, she wasn't going to let them do this.

Rolling his eyes, the white rabbit casually reached down and pinched her nostrils shut. The huntress' eyes widened and she squirmed in place, suddenly feeling even more humiliated. This was such a simple trick, something a mother might do to a picky child, but there was a reason it was so universal.

She waited until her body howled for air and the corners of her vision darkened, but though she thought she could very well simply perish rather than give her assailants what they wanted, her body betrayed her and the huntress felt her mouth shoot open as she gasped in a desperately needed breath of air. The black rabbit leaned in and, very neatly, dumped the capful of tincture down her throat.

It tasted sour and burned her throat, but when she tried to spit the white rabbit held her mouth shut with both paws, head still pinioned in place. The huntress screamed impotently through gritted teeth but it was too late, the tincture had already trickled down her throat.

The leather went back on over her muzzle and the huntress lay in place, shaking like a leaf as the rabbits stepped away. She had just enough time to wonder what exactly the purpose of the tincture was before she felt a tingle begin in the very tips of her fingers. She flexed them inside of the leather bags the rabbits had forced over her paws but the feeling didn't dissipate. Instead it seemed to expand, moving up her arms and into the very center of herself.

The huntress blinked hard, staring at the rabbits with open panic, all but demanding they tell her what they'd just done. But her assailants just smiled and watched as she drifted ever further away, until all was dark.

When she opened her eyes the world seemed strangely binary, dark on one side, bright and flickery on the other. It took her a weirdly long time to recognize a fire.

Where...?

She tried to turn her head but only succeeded in letting it flop to one side. There was the forest, black trees silhouetted against a night sky rich with stars. Out of immediate sight she could hear the river.

The huntress tried to sit up but such movement was beyond her. Her thoughts were a bit clearer now but her body refused to obey. She was distantly concerned by that but nothing seemed to have immediate relevance, she was floating in a strange bubble of self, isolated from everything else.

Wait.

She was lying on something soft, the wood of the drying rack gone. There was no cord around her wrists or ankles, no leather over her paws or muzzle. Why had they done that?

A paw stroked along the inside of one thigh, then her legs were being spread, the huntress tugged more fully onto her back. She tried to twitch her thighs closed but her body refused to respond, she felt slow and lost and isolated.

Then a pair of fingers were rubbing over her slit, dipping inside of her, the sensation strange and delayed, the very faintest of aches interspaced with a bizarre tingle that felt almost pleasant.

She tried to shake her head but could only grimace faintly.

"Stop." The huntress mumbled.

Her eyes drooped and when she opened them again the golden rabbit was between her legs, sinking his cock into her. The huntress whimpered and felt herself go fully limp, pussy spasming around her assailant's invading member.

"She's still so tight." He panted as he fucked her, paws sliding along her toned stomach to grip her breasts.

Had they been doing this for a while? The huntress tried to squirm, to show some sort of resistance, but again only managed a faint sort of twitch, her tail batting weakly against the golden rabbit's legs. He was completely in control, the gray rabbit moving around her side before sliding a paw under her jaw, opening her mouth.

The huntress had just enough control to keep her tongue from lolling out, but even that was a struggle. Encouraged, the gray rabbit pushed a pair of fingers into her mouth, pressing her tongue down. There was a sort of tension in his motions, he clearly wasn't sure if she was about to bite him, but her lack of resistance was clearly encouraging.

"...St..." She tried to say but the word wouldn't come together. Everything was drifting back into a terrible spinning fog.

Above her the golden rabbit continued to fuck her, the tingling growing more present. It felt strangely familiar to the sensation that had come after she'd swallowed the tincture. Was she about to pass out again? A part of her hoped she would, the rest was afraid of what would happen while she wasn't strictly present...though, would it really be so much different than her current state?

The gray rabbit caressed the side of her head, turning it to face him more fully. His cock was out, hard and throbbing, its length rubbing against the fur of her cheek. She winced and tried to shut her mouth but even the presence of a single finger was enough to defeat her. She went limp once more, resistance defeated, the rabbit shifting himself closer to her, laying her head against one thigh, cock pressed against her face.

The heat was the first thing she noticed, followed by the slickness of his shaft, just about saturated with pre. The gray rabbit pressed his cock into her mouth slowly, cautiously, watching for even the slightest hint that the huntress was looking to bite him, but she was too exhausted to move.

Along with the heat came salt and iron, the taste of his pre and the scent of his musk as he pushed his length into her muzzle with a contented sigh. The huntress felt frozen, a limited amount of attention torn between two overwhelming experiences. She was being taken again, violated, she knew that but somehow it no longer seemed to fully impact. She was floating, the tingles returning in force, different somehow.

They made her want to twitch and squirm but she lacked the energy to react to it very much. Instead she just shut her eyes and tried to forget everything, even as pre splashed the back of her throat and the golden rabbit gasped, unloading into the huntress' tight feline cunt.

"Flip her over." A voice sounded, the huntress dimly recognizing the white rabbit. Then she was being maneuvered, the gray rabbit's cock slipping from her mouth, pre drooling down the side of her face. Suddenly she was on her front, rear end being propped up, slick fingers tracing her tail-hole.

She tried to press her tail down over it but the white rabbit held it to the side as he pressed a pair of fingers into her last unclaimed hole, the huntress whimpering, a jitter of pain rolling through her, diffusing even before it could fully take hold.

As the white rabbit worked the huntress could feel the black rabbit scooting under her, the tip of his cock pressing impatiently at her pussy before pushing in, his paws grabbing tight to her hips, pulling her further onto his throbbing member. He gasped and bucked desperately into her as the white rabbit lined up the tip of his tapered cock with her tail-hole and the gray rabbit slid back into her mouth.

The white rabbit slid in slowly, taking his time, savoring the virgin tightness squeezing his cock, the desperate throbbing heat seeming to emanate from the huntress' very core.

Suddenly she was being taken from three sides at once, mind overwhelmed once again, a sense of helplessness trying to form but pulling apart like wet tissue paper. The golden rabbit leaned back, enjoying the sight before him as the huntress was stuffed in each of her holes.

What she felt more clearly than anything was a sense of fullness, like she would simply burst if anything more was added. All she could think to do was wait, to stare at the silvery fur of the gray rabbit as he pumped into her mouth, the creamy, almost bitter taste of pre growing stronger with each thrust. All she could do was wait this out. Eventually she'd get her mind back, the tincture would wear off. She knew that somehow, almost instinctively. This would end, then she'd find some way to escape.

But for the moment escape seemed almost foreign. This was the entire world.

The gray rabbit was the first to cum, hilting his cock in her muzzle, splashing a prodigious load down her throat, trickles of cum leaking from the corners of her mouth. The huntress tried to cough but he held her mouth shut until she swallowed.

At her other end the two rabbits making use of her holes finished almost simultaneously, the white rabbit hunching over the huntress' back as his cock spasmed in her vice tight tail-hole, scalding jets of cum splashing deep inside of her, the black rabbit's cry muffled by the huntress' breasts as he finished in her pussy, spent cock flopping free, followed almost immediately by a small flood of warm rabbit cum.

The huntress collapsed onto her side, eyes half lidded, a welcome darkness swirling towards her, the sensations of her assault fading gradually into numbness.

She tried to remind herself that when she awoke she was going to escape no matter what, but the words and sentiments fell apart even before they could be fully completed.

Then she was gone.

By the flickering light of the fire the golden rabbit, freshly recovered, spread the huntress' firm rear and made eager use of her tail-hole. The night was still young after all.