You never forget the first time.

I was curiously detached, shriekingly aware of the passion, the simple brutality of it, but it simply washed right through me, leaving my intellect clean in its wake.

My muscles contracted, arcing my back into the air, clutching desperately at her soft flesh. I'm ashamed to admit it now, but I was scared, my vision tunneled to her white face as the moans escaped my throat. Her wide eyes swallowed me. My nails dug through her blouse and she gasped, her comforting forsaken for a moment, the rivulets of blood soaking into the tatters of her blouse.

Fascination with these things, the electric nerves chattering to each other across the network of my brain. Never had I felt my body like this - out of control, drawn out from one second to the next, a puppet tied to the strings of an unknown master.

As her concern for me finally transformed into fear, I blacked out.

When I awoke, only minutes later, my face was buried in the steaming pit of her gut, my fur matted with her blood.