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wafting from the rat, smelled only in the recesses of the girls'
minds, was at the same time musky and infinitely desirable. Only in their
subconscious could they discern the silent fate awaiting them, and they
would absently cross their legs, minds wandering to lustful fantasies
coupled with a strange feeling of anticipation and anxiety, sometimes given
form as they stopped taking notes and began sketching the rat's phallus,
impatiently waiting for the end of the school day. Having implanted the
seed of its odor in their thoughts, the girls were easy to track.
It was now past Midnight on Tuesday morning. The rat made its
appearance by stepping out of a dark closet, floorboards creaking under
the rat's eagerly advancing form. To any not of the same phantom state as
the rat, the room was silent except for the rustling of sheets. Not even
the added noises of the lifted blankets, nor the groan of the mattress at
the added weight of the rat made a sound. To any observer, the bed had not
sunk, the covers not removed to show the compact body of the 4'11"
Japanese cheerleader. The rat wouldn't've known an
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