I wondered why the stories about this type of thing neverdiscussed how nervous the rapist was as he made the final approach to hisvictim. I felt like I had run a marathon and was sure that either my loadbreathing or the smell of my sweat would soon wake you. As I stood next to your bed and lookedupon your sleeping face, I wondered how you would feel in the morning. Not thatit really mattered as I was going to rape you anyway, but being theintellectual type I wanted to get into my victims heads. I shifted the knife to my right handand made sure the daypack settled on my shoulders, after all, the next fewminutes might get a bit rough. I reached down, unsnapped the holder for thecuffs on my right hip, and looked down at your last minutes of peaceful sleep,perhaps forever. As I started to reach for your mouth, I saw the way yournipple contrasted with the teddy you were wearing and changed the direction ofmy hand. I gently cupped your breast, carefully watching you to see yourreaction.. Then turned right back again. Not having hands, the poor dogs had no way of relieving their frustrations. They would have to suffer until their erections went away in the course of time.Unless..."Molly felt herself trembling all over.I could throw a bucket of cold water on them, she thought.Molly was wondering if she should do those dogs a favor. She had no intention of fucking them-she still thought of that as no more than a wild fantasy-but she thought that it would do no harm if she were to jack them off. The poor brutes needed to come so badly that it would be an act of mercy, an act of charity, she reasoned. It wouldn't be as if she were having sex with them, nothing like that, she would just be relieving the poor, dumb brutes out of kindness to animals.And the thought of having those fat canine cocks in her hand was sort of exciting, too.She had to admit that she would probably enjoy doing it... especially when they started to whimper and whine and hump, then squirted their hot.
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