Welcome to your worst nightmare

The wolf's calming demeanour should have helped, but as he brushed his paw on her head, she felt her skin crawling. She felt like the fur there wanted to fold in on itself, just to get away. But of course she couldn’t move. Her breathing sped up, her confusion didn’t lesson, it only grew. Nothing was wrong! nothing was wrong!? She couldn’t move, that was pretty damn wrong.

She whimpered when he pressed a paw against her to measure a pulse. She still wanted to get away. She loved people, hugs, and contact. But she would have given a lot to be able to slide off that table and get away from the purple wolf. Something was deeply wrong with him, and she couldn’t figure out what it was. Some instinct was rearing its head, telling her to get away. Too late, much too late.

He lifted a paw, and she felt the caress of his fur against her, and she could do nothing to stop it. He released the paw, and it flopped heavily against the table. There was nothing she could do to stop it. He didn’t seem alarmed by her inability to move. He seemed satisfied. He had done this to her. It all came so slowly, her head still felt like it was packed with cotton wool. So confused, so out of her element. That prick on her neck had been him. He did this to her.

His touch wasn’t as sharp and present as it would have been, her body felt a little numb. She would have preferred complete numbness to feeling any of his touch. The way he ran his paw across her body worsened the sickening feeling in her stomach. ”Stop, please” she whimpered. Her whimper only grew when he dug a claw into her thigh. What was he going to do to her? What did he want? “Why are you doing this?”


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