I need the rain because I don’t want to get caught. All the blood, you know. Raincoats are good for keeping the evidence to a minimum, but they attract too much attention in the summer when it’s dry. Also cheap and disposable, those raincoats. Good for disguises, but always, always wear the gloves when you put them on and take them off. Fingerprints get you caught.

The rest of the equipment you need to play the game is easy enough to conceal in a sports bag, a purse, or a fanny pack, whatever makes sense for the area you’re hunting in. Today I’m at a college, so it’s the sports bag that I’ve got with the stun gun, the knife, and the hand restraints. I don’t normally use the restraints unless I’m taking two guys because they cost seconds.

The last piece of gear you’ll need is a stopwatch. I wear my stopwatch around my neck. I use a mechanical one because I like the sounds of the ticking. Sometimes it will echo around the men’s room before I dick the guy, and I like to think they know it’s coming then. Mostly they don’t. The rain makes them sloppy.

Tonight I’m going to dick a man. I’m going to ambush him, stun him, and then his dick will be gone. Gone forever. I don’t much care if he dies after. He’s nothing to me then, just some dickless gimp, never able to stick his dirty, rapist pecker in me again.

It’s important that you time it, that way you know if you’re getting better at it or not. Practice makes perfect. I like to think I’m really good at it by now, but there’s always room for improvement. I keep a record of each dicking in Excel so I can track my progress. I like statistics.

Where you do it is important. I get my guys in the bathroom while they’re taking a piss. It’s out then and in easy reach, most of the time. The guys just stand there at the urinals – men’s rooms have urinals in them, ladies, and I’ve never seen a urinal with a door. Makes it a little easy, as the guy is standing there, trying not to look like a pervert by staring straight at the urinal when you’re moving around the men’s room. It’s the most vulnerable most guys will ever be around a stranger, and as I’ve said, the rain makes them sloppy.

I usually hide in a stall and wait. The rain was supposed to last a few hours, and wearing my raincoat I’m never stopped on my way into the men’s room. Then it’s all a matter a timing and some luck. The place I chose to wait was in the Physics building of a small college. Hard sciences and engineering students tend to be loners who sometimes work late. Business and education majors tend to travel in packs and are often out partying at night. When I’m going for speed, I stick to the loners.

It can get boring, the waiting, and men’s rooms sometimes smell pretty bad. But college campuses keep their restrooms in tip top shape, so the smell doesn’t bother me at all in this one. If you chose the right location, you don’t have to wait long, but you also might get a group. I don’t want a group. I want just one guy to dick right now. If there’s time later tonight I might take on two.

I hear the men’s room door open, and my heart begins to race. Someone’s coming into the restroom, and I listen for the footsteps.

Three guys. Damn. Evening classes must have just ended. I make a mental note to look up class schedules online the next time I try this at a college.

In this men’s room there are two urinals and one stall. I’m in the stall, of course, and not about to leave any time soon. Two of the guys go to the urinals, and the other guy’s footsteps stop outside my stall. I give a little cough to let the guy know I’m in here. He just waits, like a big moron, while the two other guys finish.

One of the guys says, “See you Friday, Sean!” as he and the other guy leave the restroom. Neither of them wash their hands. Gross, but typical.

My guy’s made a big mistake by just waiting for his friend’s to leave. My heart leaps up into my chest when I hear the door close before my guy has even walked up to the urinal. The door’s a heavy, metal door, and it slams shut really loudly. My guy, Sean, I guess, clears his throat and steps up to the urinal.

That’s when I stand up and start my timer, the stun gun in one hand and the knife in a pocket of the raincoat. I have to be fast now, but I take a few seconds to flush and make sure the raincoat covers me and its hoodie is up before I step out to dick my man.

He’s facing the urinal like a good little dude, aiming his dirty, sick, rapist dick with his right hand. The left hand is holding his blue shorts up to keep them from sliding down while he pees. He doesn’t even glance my way as I walk by.

He’s really thin, which is good because some physics guys can be fatties, and fatties take extra time. He’s wearing just a white t-shirt with a print of Optimus Prime on the back, some blue shorts, and flip-flops. It looks like he’s got a great ass, and the muscles along his thighs are really developed. He might be a runner. He’s pissing a real load, so I know I don’t have a lot of time, but I’ve already got my tools ready.

Tick tick tick tick tick tick tick. I love my stopwatch, and now that the toilet’s stopped running I can really hear it as I step up behind my man, tossing my empty sport’s bag near the door and raising my stun gun. Aim for the upper shoulders, ladies; there’s a cluster of nerves there, and it doesn’t even matter if the guy has a coat on.

Pop pop pop pop pop. Stun guns work really well. My guy screams, and starts writhing as he falls back. I grab him with my left hand and support him while my right hand keeps the stun gun along the back of his shoulder blades near his neck. He’s thin, but really muscular. I love the feel of an athletic guy when my heart is racing. My man cramps up, piss arching from his dirty rapist dick while he’s whimpering in pain from the stun gun. They don’t talk much, just usually give a little scream, then whimper and moan. I stop the stun gun and reach for the knife.

He’s wearing red boxers under his shorts, and I pull out the whole package while he’s disabled. He’s hung. His dirty rapist dick is long, probably eight inches, but thin with a heavy blue vein curving up from its base to near the pink dick head. His balls are a little small, considering the size of his dick, but I don’t really have the time to care about his gonads. They don’t interest me, his cock does.

It’s actually surprisingly difficult to cut the dick off a man, and not just because my men are usually thrashing around and cramping. The fleshy parts of a guy’s dick are very tough. The sharper your knife, the better, and, of course, with practice it’s much easier. But my knife is very sharp, and it still takes me three or four good cuts to free the dirty rapist cock from my athlete’s groin. My guy’s in shock now, and his blood is gushing up, spurting on the raincoat.

There’s no cum. From all the stories you read on the internet, you’d think guys would cum when you dick them. Maybe some guys do, but my men haven’t ever spurted anything but blood on me. Except for the one time the dirty bastard rapist got me. Maybe the stun gun has something to do with it.

He’s groaning as I leave the men’s room, and blood is getting everywhere. I cut the dick up into ten or eleven jagged pieces as I’m retrieve my sports bag. I just drop all the pieces on the floor. The doctors won’t be able to pull a Bobbit on my man. I stop the stopwatch while I remove the raincoat, and dump everything but the knife and the stun gun in the garbage inside the restroom. My tools go into my sports bag, and I quickly leave the men’s room with the useless, dickless, bleeding gimp inside it.

When I make it home, I note my time: 1:15.26. Not my best time, but I spent a little longer feeling my guy up than I tend to. He was hot.

Now it’s your turn. Give it a try, and let me know. How fast can you dick a man?