A/N: Alright; Again, I didn't want to do this, but I think it's for the best: I wrote this strictly to make myself feel better after reading an article in Cosmo magazine about serial rapists. Make of that what you will, but if you have criticisms or the like, please keep that much in mind.

Wolf in Sheep's Clothing

Snowball woke up to the sound of glass breaking. Her human, Annie, had the shower running. Snowball had watched her strip and discard the lacy red undergarments and her silk suit dress, which were now on the floor, leading from the living room to the bathroom, like a trail of breadcrumbs. The house had only a few rooms, on a single floor. All of them were covered in thin, pink carpet, except the kitchen and the bathroom. Snowball was dozing in the living room, head on a floral throw pillow as she lay on the floor next to the couch – she was too heavy for it. The floor and the coffee table were littered with magazines and newspaper clippings, all with big headlines cautioning women not to go out alone at night.

Snowball kept her human, Annie, in this house for four years. Annie worked in a retail store – quiet, demure, and shy as she hid behind the counter – enough to pay the bills and give them food. Sometimes, she came home from her job so exhausted that she would fall asleep on the couch without even getting undressed. On five different occasions – Snowball had kept track – Annie would come home and smell so strongly of alcohol that Snowball couldn't help but wonder if her human was lonely for a mate. Of course, the night after each of those occasions, Annie would bring home a human male, maybe for one night, or maybe for several. They never lasted, not beyond a few months.

What made Snowball curious was that, several weeks ago – just when the headlines had started coming out – Annie had come home, once again smelling like cheap drinks. Snowball had yet to see the male that her human would be playing with, this time.

Because the house smelled heavily of powder and perfumes, Snowball couldn't help but notice the distinct difference of the human breaking the glass on the backdoor's window. One arm reached through to unlock the door, and as it opened, Snowball lifted her head from the pillow she was resting on.

It was a human man. Snowball had seen his face on the television, earlier that evening. Police had called him 'The Striped Rapist', because all his victims had stripes bruised onto their arms after he'd tied them up. Snowball and Annie knew that he was really a Mr. John Sommers. He hadn't bothered to disguise himself from other victims, and all of them had described him perfectly for the evening news.

They also knew, because Snowball and Annie had sat through each of the news casts when he'd struck, and Annie had read every article she could. She would sometimes even tell Snowball about her high ambition to 'Get inside his head', one day. It looked like today would be the now-or-never.

Sommers either didn't notice or didn't care that Snowball was watching as he quietly strode for the bathroom. Both were possible, since most of the lights were off. The only one came from the half open door to the bathroom. Snowball had been listening to her human's half-hearted humming over the shower water, which grew louder as Sommers slowly opened the door all the way.

When he reached the shower curtain, Sommers tore the plastic aside. Snowball saw her human's head snap around, startled. Her long hair, normally curled, was now limp and hung in clumps around her shoulders. Snowball was used to seeing it – Annie would leave the door open all the time, and Snowball saw no reason that she couldn't come in and examine the bathroom when her human was grooming.

Sommers reached into the shower and grabbed Annie by her hair. Snowball didn't see her human grimace or resist in any way.

"Are you gonna make me hurt you?" His voice was harsh and grating. If she'd been a human, Snowball rather suspected she would have been intimidated by it. Huffing, she got to her feet and trotted towards the door to watch the show.

Annie didn't answer, but rolled her eyes to the ceiling, as though in deep thought. Snowball had expected nothing less from her human.

"Give me a minute to think about that one." She finally answered. Sommers didn't give her a moment, reaching in with his other hand to grab Annie's arm and pull her out of the shower. Soap still ran down her stomach and Snowball could smell the fishy scent of the red discharge running down her human's legs.

"Let me guess; if I don't, you'll beat me up. And if I try to fight back, you'll beat me up some more, and if I still fight back, you'll take out a knife and cut me up." Annie muttered, willingly supporting herself and not really resisting as Sommers pulled her. Snowball watched, curiously, as Annie, only pushed enough to be able to walk on her own.

"That's right. And I'm in a bad mood tonight, so you better not piss me off."

"Why?"

Sommers' shook her and kept growling.

"Shut up, you fucking whore."

Annie acted as though she hadn't heard him.

"What's the point – you've already lost."

At this point, Sommers started to bark something that was too indistinct – probably just meant to sound threatening – that didn't have the slightest affect on Annie. If anything, she seemed to unwind even more.

"Thanks for proving me right." She sneered, "You've totally lost control."

"I am IN control!"

"Not of yourself." Annie noted, dryly, "And you ain't in control of me, neither."

This, apparently, was not something that Sommers had wanted to hear. He swung Annie completely around in a circle, ramming her against the sink. Annie didn't even flinch.

"Who's in control of who, bitch? I'm fucking in your house! I've got you..."

Annie laughed at him. Right in his face.

"You're in MY house. I'LL call you what I think – you're in MY hands, asswipe." She answered, louder than Sommers and cutting him off, "And I say you're a rapist. Not a person, not a man – just a fucking statistic. A number. And you've been that since you started playing this game."

With a free hand, Annie reached down and harshly grabbed Sommers' crotch. He flinched at that.

"Example – you'd want to do something to me with this. Well, I can pick how much fun it is for you – all I'd have to do is shift at just the right moment and your junk hits my pelvic bone and..." Annie held up a finger and bent it at the knuckle, "Pop!"

Sommers' face had a disgusted, almost pained, but still angry and fierce look to it.

"You wouldn't have gotten too far with that. Trust me, fractured erections are UH-GLIE. And deadly – if you'd gotten that far and I hadn't been feeling too merciful, I'd just let you die from internal bleeding. You'd have to be very lucky if I decided to call an ambulance to save your life after THAT."

Sommers hadn't made good on any of this threats yet. Snowball wondered why, but she was sure that Annie would get to that, later, as the show went on.

"Or, maybe I would call an ambulance, just to prove that you aren't in control of SHIT. I'd sit with you in the ambulance, make like I was your girlfriend or something, and sit with you after the surgery, and then, you'd be totally in my pocket. I could have pictures and evidence and threaten to send it to your missus and the kiddies. Imagine THAT one: 'Don't worry, little Johnny – Daddy's a good guy, except he's a serial rapist during all those business trips he takes.' And then, your wife and I could be court-buddies. We'd wear matching outfits and everything while we were both suing and prosecuting your ass to hell and back. Or I could blackmail you for not telling the police. And who's in control there?"

Sommers was no longer angry. In fact, he rather looked like he was losing a game of chess and trying to quickly recalculate his strategy so he could still win. Annie was still perfectly calm and self-assured.

"You really have no idea what you're fucking with here, do you?"

"I'll fucking carve your eyes out and fuck you up so bad, you won't be able to walk at the end of the night!" Sommers shouted.

Annie completely relaxed, as though she hadn't heard a word of Sommers' threats.

"Except you won't. Not really." Snowball sat down on her back haunches, blocking the doorway, "You don't have a knife on you – you haven't carried a knife since you saw your father stabbed to death when your mother ran out on you."

Sommers completely let go of Annie's arms. Annie rotated her shoulder, then brushed her skin, as though Sommers had left a stain.

"Besides, you think it's just bad form to actually injure someone you've just raped. Like it would somehow taint the purity of your deed – if you're going to have a deed on your head, it's gotta be one or the other, not both." Annie didn't seem to mind that she was still perfectly within range for Sommers to grab her by the face or shove her against the wall, "It's cute."

That got Sommers to straighten. Annie did the same, perching her buttocks against the sink.

"Well?" She asked, expectantly, "You came here for me. Get a move on, you indecisive wuss."

Snowball got back to her feet and paced the width of the door – it looked almost like Sommers might decide to run, instead of stay.

"Grab me. Make me plead with you and scream and try to fight you off! Tie me down! Beat me up! Take one of my own goddamn kitchen knives and carve my face off! Do it, you lousy fucker – DO IT!" Annie started to shout, pushing off against the sink and advancing on Sommers, pressing him into the wall.

Snowball lay back down, already starting to get bored with the show her human was putting on.

"But now, you don't feel like it, anymore." Annie was grinning, the same way she always grinned when Snowball watched the news with her, "It's just not the same if there isn't a little fight in them, if they just lay back and let you do what you want. And if some uppity bitch actually tells you to rape her... well, there's no fun in THAT. Have I ruined your fun for you, you asshole?"

Snowball would admit that it was interesting to see a tall, burly man like Sommers being pressed against the wall by a woman as small as Annie. At the same time, Snowball knew that Annie was strong enough on her own – she'd planted all the trees around their house all by herself. That was part of why Snowball kept her human instead of walking out on her.

"And you ain't even stopped to think about this, but all those other girls you fucked had control of you the minute you looked at them. You didn't make them do shit – any of them could have decided to just let you have your fun, or they could have decided to let you get away. But, nope – they made a criminal out of you. And you can run and you can hide, but you ain't never gonna get away, not until you're dead. You ain't SHIT now – you're just a bag of meat with a number on the back of his head. This is all you are, all you're ever gonna be. Some sonofabitch could mug you and gut you on your way back home, tonight, and it wouldn't make a shit of a difference – it'd be like throwing out the trash into a fire."

"You fucking whore..."

"What's the matter? Game just not fair?" Annie demanded, her grin dropping as she adopted a mocking imitation of Sommers' voice, "I just cheated you out of winning, like every other bitch did. It's just not FAIR!" And then, Annie was grinning, like her normal self, "You can't win this game now. I'll order you to do everything, so you can do it, and be completely whipped like your weak-ass father, or you can run away with your tail hanging down where your balls used to be. Who's the man here, huh?"

Sommers actually looked visibly shaken before Annie, without any warning, raised a fist and knocked him clean off his feet and to the bathroom floor. His nose hit the tub and started to bleed as Annie pounced on him and started to hammer on his back with her fists.

"WHO'S THE MAN HERE, BITCH? WHO'S THE MAN? IT AIN'T YOU, SO TELL ME WHO IT IS! TELL ME THAT I'M THE MAN, BITCH!" She screamed, yanking Sommers' hair and slamming his face against the tub again.

"...What the hell?" Sommers managed when Annie had let go. She straddled his ribs and kept him pinned to the floor, menstrual blood soaking into the back of his shirt, "...This... this isn't what you're like..."

Annie started to grin again. Snowball could tell, because then, Annie started to laugh. It was the same laugh as when Snowball watched those reality cops shows. Annie stood up and fished a large pink bottle of shampoo from the shower.

"Yeah, I cheated you, wholesale, on this game, didn't I?" She whispered, swinging the bottle down, hard, on the back of Sommers' knee. It made a loud, satisfying crunch.

"But, really, I was just playing it by your rules." Annie squatted down and swatted, half-heartedly, at Sommers' legs, "The news had reports of a series of rapes in the area, and a few of them were linked together by DNA from the rape kits at the hospitals. So, I figured it was too good an opportunity to pass up." This time, she swung her shampoo hard enough to make a loud smack on Sommer's thigh.

"The women who'd come forward were all mostly the same – really girly girls, skinny, easy, all single and alone at home, all white, all young. You probably picked them out because you knew you could. You knew you'd never've been able to catch a big, tough, single-mother black woman off-guard – she'd kick your ass before you could get out your big, macho lines. So, I tailored myself to be just what you'd want. I'd be meek and passive, all alone in this little house, with nobody to call if I was home alone, totally asking for it."

Snowball knew – she'd watched her human sorting through all the police reports, papers, and articles about Sommers' conquests.

"And you didn't disappoint – you started stalking me and staking out my house. I deliberately left my window shades open, so you could watch, and always came and went at the same time. I even went to the trouble of planting trees to keep anyone else from noticing my comings and goings, and to give you a place to hide if you wanted to watch me. Aren't I nice?" Annie asked as she picked up her shampoo in both hands, stood fully up and climbed onto the toilet, then dropped the bottle squarely onto Sommers' back.

"And you were an interesting hobby, too. I got to read up on you, find out things like how your mother was a crack addict and left you on your own when you were fourteen. And your dad was always drunk and unemployed and when he cheated on your mother, she fucking slit his throat right in front of you. And all the aunts who passed you around before you turned eighteen, and the social worker who didn't give a shit about you and let one of them molest you.

"And the first girl you ever dated – who ended up dead in a car accident. I get the feeling you didn't do THAT, but they did find out that she'd been having a lot of nasty sex... She must have been your first strike against the fucking bitches and sluts who treated you like shit and made you like this..."

Snowball put her head back down on her front legs. She was starting to get bored with hearing her human talk about everything that the three of them already knew.

"It was fun. And, best of all, I got to win! It was the best game, ever – No way I could lose, from the very beginning. Thank you, so much for giving me such a great time!" Annie was giggling, gleefully dancing around, completely uncaring of her nudity.

Sommers was completely silent on the floor. Annie stopped cackling for a moment, then dropped onto the ground and tilted her head to look fully into his face.

"Oh, but I can't say 'No' to a face like THAT." Annie moped, pouting, "It's just not fair of me to totally stack the odds on you. That's really not how this game is supposed to work..."

Annie stood back up and went to the cabinet. Out of it, she pulled an old shaving razor – the kind where the blade folded in and out of the handle. She pulled one of Sommers' hands towards her and pressed the handle into it.

"That was mean of me... I'm sorry, okay. Let's play this game your way." She let go and sprawled next to the tub, completely open for an attack, "It doesn't change the fact that you can't win... you know, the whole control thing... but that's not the point. Let's just play. Don't mind about winning... just have some fun."

Sommers didn't move for a long, long moment, before Snowball saw him lift the hand with the razor in it, then quickly bring it down on his own throat. The smell of coppery blood filled the bathroom, bright red streams of it spurting out of Sommers' throat and over the tile and tub and Annie's body. In two minutes, it slowed, then stopped.

Annie started cackling, just laughing like she'd been told the funniest joke in the world. Snowball did admit – it had been interesting.

All this time, the water had been left running. Annie quickly finished her shower before shutting the spigot off, then hauling Sommers' body into the tub. With a short, cotton robe on, Annie mopped up the blood on her floor and walls. Snowball sat and watched, waiting for Annie to finish so she could eat. When her human had finally finished, Snowball trotted into the bathroom and sat, patiently, by the tub, as Annie pulled out the razor and cut into Sommers' scalp. All his hair came off, leaving nothing but the sack of flesh and bones on the tub floor. As soon as Annie straightened up, Snowball put her front trotters on the edge of the tub and stuck her snout into the mess.

There was no doubt about it – this was better than slop on a farm.

Halfway through her chewing, a new smell caught Snowball's attention. Blood still smeared on her snout, she trotted out into the living room. Annie had taken a box down from the shelf and was fumbling with the a label and a pen. Curious, Snowball sniffed at the box, before Annie pushed her away.

"No, Snowball – these are mine." She scolded as she lifted the lid and plopped Sommers' hair into a sixth slot in the box, labeled neatly and properly.

It was the part of any male that Snowball looked forward to the least – the fact that Annie always took the hair and kept it for herself. Miffed, Snowball turned back to the bathroom to finish her treat.

When Snowball was all done, and nothing was left of the body, she stumbled back into the living room. Annie had put all the newspapers and magazines about Sommers into the fire.

"I'm going to need a new hobby, Snowball." She lamented, flopping onto the couch and picking up a crafts magazine, "Macrame looks fun. Ooh, and look at the teacher." Annie put the magazine down where Snowball could see it. The young man who would be teaching the class smiled up from the photo, healthy, strong, and tanned, "Doesn't he just look yummy."

Snowball leaned in and bit out the picture, in response.