God dam, Anne Frank was a cute little jewess. I wish I was Nazi guard at the camp she was shipped to. I would watch her from afar. I’d call her over and watch her walk up to me with her head down in fear. I’d tell her to close her eyes, she’d comply, tears falling down her cheeks as she waits for death, but it would never come. Instead I’d place my hand on her face, then tell her she can go. I’d watch her sigh with relief, and walk away, so caught up in her continued survival that she doesn’t question my behavior. Over the next few times she would understand my motives. Each time I would touch her more, then in her most sensitive places. She would simply look down and endure it, maybe she’d cry, maybe she would just give in. One day I’d lose control, I’d push her down waiting for her little arms to push back, waiting for her to kick back with as much force as she could muster, but she wouldn’t. The camp has already shattered her spirit. This poor girl, her suffering, her broken dreams, shattered soul, it would make me hard beyond belief. I would violate her, violently. I would watch her cry silently as I thrust into her. I’d hold her close, hug her tightly, and plead with her to not hate me; I cum. I fire my seed deep withing her, watching her shallow breathes gradually slow. She would look away and a pang of guilt would hit me. I’d try to comfort her, to apologize, but she’d push me away. With renewed effort she’d fight, fight like she’d wish she had before. Self-Ioathing would take hold of her and she’d walk away, ignoring me, expecting me to shoot her in the back but I would never do that.