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>Rinehart woke up in a cold sweat
>He lost another mammal last night
>On his way home from work he saw a hate crime and realised he didn't care enough to intervene
>But that was yesterday
>Today was gonna be different
>He needed to relax
>Hey, doesn't he have a therapy session with his girlfriend today?
>Well, he knows she's not his girlfriend
>He knows she's just payed to listen to him
>It's just that she's always available whenever he needs some good old fashioned "relief"
>And who could blame him?
>As a therapist, she should know that morny foxes can smell past the weaker perfumes marketed for prey
>And it was always so easy; she kept walking him home after every therapy session
>He was always careful enough so that his "de-stressing sessions" would not leave any noticeable mark on her waking body
>Always "I must have gotten so tired yesterday" or "I hope that wasn't too much of an inconvenience for you" or "I had a great night's rest, thank you for hosting me Mr. Rindlehat"
>Bunnies could be so dumb, sometimes
>Rinehart makes his way down to her office and gets on the couch
>The smell of her sex once again fills his nostrils, but it seems extra strong today
>He sits down and his mind begins racing to figure an attack plan
>He checks to see if there is an outgoing phone in the office
>To his delight, he can see that the cord is just barely unplugged
>He makes note of the fact that the couch on which he is resting is positioned between his therapist and the door (which she locked behind herself today)
>He answers all her questions as vaguely as possible, so as not to alert her to his true thoughts
>Half an hour in, she shifts her positioning, crossing her legs to cradle the tablet on her knee
>For a brief second, he notices that she's not wearing panties
>After a brief second of deliberation, he decides there's no time like the present
>He lunges at her, little thought going into anything but his current desires
>Looks like there's more than one therapist tonight
