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Chapter 11 The Hunt
“Damn,” said Christine responding to the sting of a paintball hitting her thigh. Two others quickly followed one dead center in her navel and the other on her shoulder. They stung badly and Christine winced in pain as she stopped running and bent over to catch her breath. The game was over.
“Got her,” said a tall distinguished-looking man in camouflage fatigues stepping out from behind a white pine. He was carrying a paintball rifle he’d last used in an old converted warehouse near Boston’s financial district that offered luncheon competitions.
“Nice shot, Warren,” said his partner emerging from the other side of the tree. He was similarly dressed but shorter and stockier. He quickly advanced several steps then took careful aim and fire a volley of paintball pellets at Christine’s crotch.
“Enough,” shouted Christine grabbing her sex with both hands. Unluckily for her, one of the pellets landed on her clit. It felt like a bee had just stung her.
“Right in the pussy,” said the man laughing.
“Quit fucking around, Hank,” said Warren.
Christine pushed her protective goggles up on her head as she watched them approach. The game was called, “Shoot and Screw,” and she had just lost which was expected. She’d spent the last thirty minutes attempting to circle through the woods back to the camp and safety. Of course, she wasn’t supposed to win. The hunters had paid serious money to bag one of the females and use her for their pleasure. Peter had designed the game to appeal to the primitive instincts of wealthy businessmen bored with their marriage’s tepid sex and put off by the mechanical fucks provided by the beautiful hookers who serviced Boston’s business elite. Peter told them they would be amazed how the game brought out the cave man instincts of well educated MBA types who coached their kid’s soccer teams on weekends.
The rules for Shoot and Screw were straightforward. The eight females were released into the Farm’s game preserve five minutes before the men started the hunt. Each female ran to a specific spot in the preserve, collected a flag from their trainer then ran back to the safe zone at the starting point. If she managed to return without being struck by a paintball, she was free for the remainder of the afternoon. But if she did get hit, she became the sex slave of her captors. They could rape and torture her within limits until the sun went down.
It was unspoken but understood that the women were to loose the game. Peter gave some insight into the psychology of the hunt.
“Men are more aggressive when they’ve got a buddy along to show off for,” said Peter briefing the women after breakfast. “A normally sexually timid man can become incredibly macho when there’s another competing male present. Based on past experiences you can expect them to act like a bunch of outlaw bikers.”
“They hunt us down like animals then have sex with us,” said Amanda.
“Not quite, they hunt you down and rape you,” said Peter.
“Do we role-play a rape,” asked Laurie laughing? “That’s going to be difficult if we’re horny.”
“Just let them have their way with you while looking scared shitless. No one will get really hurt although you may be sore for a few days. And let’s face it, if you didn’t like pain with your sex you wouldn’t be here. Role-play the part of an innocent girl enjoying a run in the woods and don’t go totally slut until they’ve blown their load as least twice. Since most of these guys are in their late forties, early fifties, they’ll be using ED drugs to maintain their erections. So you can expect to be mounted more than once by the same guy.”
“Good,” said Marilyn spreading her legs and rubbing her crotch. “They can mount me as many times as they want.”
“Spoken like a true slut,” said Amanda.
“But everyone act like a lady to start. When you’re in the pen during the viewing try to look frightened,” said Peter. “It adds to the excitement.”
“Oh Mr. Hunter, please don’t rape me. I’m a virgin. My pussy hole’s real small and that big thick cock of yours will split me open,” said Kay causing the group to laugh.
In spite of the women’s jokes, matters quickly took on the feel of a real hunt and the women had been excited when Peter finished explaining the rules. Christine had once read that violent rape was the number one sexual fantasy of women and that the better educated the woman, the more violent the fantasy.
In order to heighten the erotic tension, the trainees were put on display before the hunt began. They were crowded together in a small pen for the hunters to view. Twenty hunters working in pair had signed up for the hunt.
Christine felt the excitement as the strange men leaned on the wooden rails peering at the women and making comments about what they would do when they captured their prey. They were well equipped for the hunt. In addition to the paintball gun, each man carried field glasses, eyes protection and a backpack. Peter had casually mentioned the men would be carrying whatever needed to restrain the captured female and some of the hunters could be quite creative.
“You like it in the ass, Christine,” asked one of the men leaning over the rail to pat Christine’s rear?
“Absolutely not, Warren, that’s disgusting,” said Christine slapping his hand away as she read the name stenciled on his fatigues.
“Well, sweetheart when I catch you, my cock is going right up your shithole,” said Warren. “Then I’m going to pull it out of your butt and make you suck it clean.”
“You have to catch me first, Warren,” said Christine looking Warren directly in the eye challenging him.
“Oh, don’t you worry about that, Christine. And when I do, my buddy Hank and I are going to give you the meanest, nastiest fucking of your life.”
“Right,” said the man wearing the fatigues stenciled with the name Henry. “You ain’t going to shit right for a month after we’re done with you.”
Christine was shocked at the men’s crude and graphic language. The hunters were going out of their way to speak in the foulest possible language to the women. According to Peter, they were well-educated, wealthy executives and business leaders able to pay thousands to participate. However, their aggressive behavior added to the erotic feel of the hunt.
“I really prefer not to waste my energy running through the woods,” whispered Amanda to Christine. “As far as I’m concerned, they can throw me down in the dirt and rape me right here.”
“Be a good sport and run like the wind,” replied Christine. “It’s make them angry if they have to work at it. And an angry rapist is a good rapist.”
When the klaxon sounded and the gate opened, Christine and the others ran into the woods. A mile away near the small creek that flowed through the property she found Ahmad at the designated spot. He barely looked up from the Quran he was studying as he handed her the small square of yellow cloth she tucked into the waistband of her shorts.
Christine’s speed afoot caused most of the shots to miss as she ran along the path back toward the camp. She was captured when she reached a hill and was forced to slow down.
“Bend over, bitch,” said Warren taking a spiked leather dog collar out of his pocket.
Christine bent at the waist. Hank grabbed her hair pulling her head between his legs. “Hold still,” said Hank as he clamped his knees against the sides of her head. Quickly, Warren buckled the collar around Christine’s neck.
“You’re our fuck bitch, now,” said Hank relaxing his grip as he once more used her hair as a handle. Warren attached a leash to the collar. Next he slipped a nylon cable tie over her wrists and pulled it tight effectively handcuffing her.
“Don’t move and don’t speak,” said Warren taking a K-bar knife out of his pocket and opening it.
“What are you going to do with that,” asked Christine staring at the knife? Peter had assured the women no one would be really hurt but he hadn’t mentioned anything about knives.
Immediately, her back exploded in pain as Hank lashed her with a short flogger he’d removed from his backpack.
“Didn’t we tell you not to speak, cunt,” said Hank slashing the flogger over her inner thighs. The polymer strands stung her flesh causing her to yelp in pain. Instinctively, she tried to use her hands to protect herself; but Warren grabbed her wrists allowing Hank to viciously land the strands where they hurt terribly. Christine shrieked in pain and was surprised to hear the answering cries of other females echoing back to her through the trees. Warren and Hank weren’t the only successful hunters. Christine recognized Amanda’s distinctive scream as it traveled through the dense forest.
“This one needs a lesson,” said Warren.
“And we’re just the ones to give it to her,” said Hank finishing with a full strength lash that sent Christine to the forest floor sobbing that she would do whatever they wanted.
“Don’t move a muscle, slut,” said Warren reaching down with the K-bar to cut Christine’s tee shirt down the middle. The razor edge easily knifed through her bra, shorts, and panty leaving her clad only in her cross trainers.
“Nice big titties, we are going to have ourselves a party with those,” said Warren reaching down to pinch Christine’s nipple then grabbing her wrist to pull her back to her feet.
If ever there was a moment in her life when Christine experienced a look of unbridled lust, it was then. Warren’s eyes scanned her naked form, his hand rubbing the bulge in the crotch of his fatigues.
“Please don’t hurt me,” pleaded Christine starting to cry. Unconsciously, she had slipped into the role of an innocent woman who found herself at the mercy of two men bent on rape and mayhem.
“Need something for the album, say cheese,” said Hank pointing the tiny silver camera lens at Warren and Christine. Christine stood silent as Warren smiled at the camera while holding her leash.
“Grab her tits and smile,” said Hank.
Warren stepped behind Christine then reached his arms around her to grab her breasts. His large hands cupped her breasts and pressed hard as Hank captured several images.
“Nice,” said Hank.
“You done,” asked Warren? “I’m anxious to get started.”
“One more, get on your knees, bitch, take Warren’s cock out and hold it pointed toward your mouth.”
Christine knelt reaching for Warren’s zipper. The prospect of rape had already brought Warren’s cock to a full erection. Christine found it difficult controlling her own lust as her hand wrapped around the warm penis. At that moment, a very loud scream of female pain sounded from just the other side of the hill.
“Somebody’s having fun,” said Hank moving in for a close-up. “Stick your tongue out and lick his dick.”
Christine flicked the tip of her tongue over Warren’s cockhead tasting a clear drop of precum.
“Now me,” said Hank handing the camera to Warren.
It only took a minute or two to complete the photo session. Christine recalled how her father loved to hunt and fish and how he treasured the pictures of himself with his kill. The walls of his den were covered with photos of him with deer, elk, marlin, and even a giant Kodiak bear he’d bagged. However, Christine doubted any of Hank’s trophy images were going to be displayed in a suburban home. Photo session done, Christine, handcuffed and leashed, was led down a hill to a small clearing where a giant elm had recently fallen. The trunk was enormous.
“Up you go,” said Warren lifting Christine to where she was seated on the trunk. They removed the plastic cuffs with the K-bar.
Christine was surprised at how efficiently they restrained her. They must have done this before she realized as they quickly removed nylon straps from their backpacks and attached them with Velcro to her wrists and ankles.
“Lie back across the log and extend your arms and legs,” said Warren attaching an S-hook to each of the cuffs.
Christine’s back painfully accommodated the curvature of the fallen forest giant. She watched as they attached mountain climber ropes to S-hooks and passed them under the log.
“Warren and I do some rock and ice climbing,” said Hank by way of explanation.
“This whore ain’t interested in our hobbies,” said Warren as he connected an adjustable rod between Christine’s ankles then extended it fully.
“Let’s tighten her up,” said Warren pulling the ropes taut on his side of the log as Hank worked the other side.
Christine felt her arms and legs being extended past the point of comfort. She felt herself being slowly pulled into the same contour as the log. She began to wail as the pain grew. Finally when her hands were only inches from her feet they stopped. Christine realized she was covered in perspiration. The crown of her head was pointed toward the ground.
“Best way I know to tighten up a pussy,” said Warren roughly placing his index finger at the entrance to Christine’s vagina then pushing hard to gain entry. Christine grunted in response as the large digit forced its way into the compressed passageway.
“Suck it, bitch or I’ll care my initials in your face,” said Hank putting his cock to Christine’s lips.
“Let’s balloon her knockers before we whip them,” said Warren handing Hank a ring of hard black rubber as he placed his cock at her vagina and started to shove hard to force it inside her.
“She’d got awful big boobs to fit through these,” said Hank holding the ring to the side of Christine’s breasts.
“Make them fit,” said Warren beginning the painful process of forcing her breasts through the small ring.
Throughout the forest, the eight women were restrained in various painful positions being furiously assaulted. Peter had been right about the creativity of the well-equipped hunters. They had brought lightweight nylon strapping with quick-release Velcro fasteners. Expensive ice and rock climbing ropes were being used to restrain the women in positions that left them terribly vulnerable to whatever predations the hunters desired.
Christine, her mouth filled with Hank’s fat cock, was unable to protest her situation. Her legs were spread in an extreme split by the titanium bar. Her spine was hyper-extended around the tree trunk. The ropes maintained a painful tension between her ankles and wrists. Warren was ramming his cock into her painfully constricted vagina. All the while, both men were slowly forcing her breasts through two impossibly small rubber rings. Their earlier threat to give her the nastiest meanest fuck of her life was turning out to be true.
“Done,” said Hank. Both rings rested tight against Christine’s breastbone. When she managed to glance up, she saw that the ring had so constricted the base the breast was swelling and changing to a reddish tint. Veins and arteries were becoming visible.
“Isn’t that a pretty sight,” asked Warren when he finished? “I love the way they swell up like balloons, only takes a minute or two.”
“And the nipples get long and hard,” said Hank using his nail to flick Christine’s buds.
Out of sheer desperation, Christine busied her mouth with Hank’s cock as she contracted her abdominal muscles to please Warren. It was not long before Christine’s orifices accepted the semen of both men. When Hank pulled his cock from her mouth, he wiped it in her hair.
“Need a break,” said Warren tossing Hank a bottle of mineral water
“Thirsty,” asked Hank looking down at Christine.
“Yes,” said Christine. The salty semen had increased her thirst.
“Open wide,” said Hank looking down at Christine. His cock was still resting on her forehead.
Hank took a large swallow of water, bent to where his face was inches from hers and spit into her open mouth. Christine swallowed what she could.
“Just be glad it isn’t piss. Peter made us stop that,” said Hank repeating Christine’s hydration. This time she choked and coughed.
“Here, let’s light the bitch up. She’s had it too easy,” said Warren handing Hank a flogger as he climbed over the log to Hank’s side.
The men took positions on opposite sides.
“Know what this is, bitch,” asked Warren holding the nasty looking flogger for Christine to see.
“It’s a whip, a flogger. Please don’t hit me with that. I can’t stand it,” pleaded Christine who was actually looking forward to a good flogging. Christine refrained from saying, “It’s a high quality nine strand flogger made from kangaroo the leather preferred by sadists the world over. Please whip me as hard as you can. I’ll love it.”
“Lying cunt, we know you want it. All the girls Peter brings here are dying to get their ass whipped cherry red. We won’t disappoint you. We’re going to start at your neck and whip down your body until there’s not a square centimeter of flesh that doesn’t hurt,” said Warren.
Christine’s screams joined the other seven, as the hunters sought to maximize the pain they could induce in each of their captives. The first blows landed right below her neck then slowly moved downward to her swollen breasts that proved to be hypersensitive. Warren and Hank sat straddling the log as they punished her torso leaving no flesh unscathed. Their broad grins and frequent laughter at her cries for mercy convinced Christine her captors were thoroughly enjoying themselves.
“Ten good ones per titty,” cried Hank laying the lash across her chest with all the force he could muster. “That’s one.”
By the time, the men reached ten both breasts had changed to globes of burning hot agony. Methodically and with precision they applied the flogger to her sex then her thighs and lower legs ending at the soles of her feet. They’d neglected nothing. Even her armpits felt the lash. Maurice had taught her a blow to the armpit was exceedingly painful.
Christine had screamed herself hoarse by the time they finished.
“The bitch’s screams have gotten me hard again,” said Hank putting his cock head at her entrance and shoving forward.
“I’d love to do this to Lauren,” said Warren slipping his cock into Christine’s mouth.
“She’d divorce your ass in a New York minute,” said Hank. “And take half of everything you own.”
“It might be worth it just to make the unfaithful cunt scream like her,” said Warren.
“Tracey would be my choice. God, I love sloppy seconds. Nothing better than putting your dick in another man’s spunk,” said Hank forcing his cock into Christine’s vagina. Warren’s semen oozed out the sides of Hank’s cock.
“There would be a certain poetic justice in that,” said Warren pushing his cockhead to the back of Christine’s throat causing her to gag. “That’s right, honey, you choke on Warren’s big dick.”
“And she already knows all the rape counselors and how to make her own rape kit,” said Hank laughing as he rhythmically pounded his cock into a grunting Christine who in spite of the pain was close to experiencing an orgasm. Stacy relaxed her throat to accept Warren’s cockhead.
“What do you think, Christine,” asked Warren withdrawing his cock so she could answer?
“About what,” asked Christine disappointed Warren had ceased his attempt to wedge his cock into her throat opening.
“We have this attorney named Tracey Lawson who is always doing pro bono work representing women who have been raped or abused by their husbands. She claims she was date raped in college,” said Warren.
“She told her paralegal she was date raped several times. How logical does that sound,” added Hank? “Personally, I think she’s not playing with a full deck. Who gets date raped more than once unless they’re asking for it?”
“We all do some pro bono but most of us have enough class not to tell everybody how wonderful we are for helping the less fortunate. Anyway she is a real pain in the ass and nobody likes her but we can’t fire her ass because she’ll sue the firm for discrimination. We’re not exactly staffed with female partners if you know what I mean. What would you advise? I wish these were Tracy’s buds I’m squeezing,” said Warren capturing Christine’s blood-swollen nipples in his fingers and crushing them.
“Is she pretty,” asked Christine between licks of Warren’s balls? Christine was having difficulty following Peter’s order to constrain her sluttish nature. She resisted the urge to scream for Hank to squeeze her nipples harder.
“Figure’s not bad just a little heavy, face would stop a clock,” said Warren. “I’d have to put a bag over her head while I fucked her.”
“Her tits are a lot smaller than yours but her ass is much bigger,” said Hank working Christine’s nipples hard trying to make her cry out.
“Hank, can you reach my pack,” asked Warren? “Christine is getting too comfortable.”
“Sure,” said Hank tossing the pack over the log to Warren.
“So, Christine, what’s your advice,” asked Hank.
“Do to her exactly what you’re doing to me,” said Christine.
“And go to jail for the rest of our lives,” said Warren taking a package of disposable syringe needles out of his backpack and tearing open the package with his teeth.
“Give her a scholarship to the Farm. Tell her she needs to lose some weight to make partner,” said Christine.
“Sounds like a plan,” said Warren plunging a needle unexpectedly into the side of Christine’s breast. He twirled the needle adding to the pain.
“Too bad they don’t give an award for the girl who screams the loudest,” said Hank after Christine had run out of air making a long wail of agony in reaction to having a needle stuck into the center of her nipple.
“Give me some of those,” said Hank reaching over the log toward Warren.
“When you ring those puppies and let them swell up to where they are tight as a tick, the needles really hurt,” said Warren sticking a needle in the other breast.
During the scream that followed Christine orgasmed surprising the two men.
“True fucking pain slut,” said Hank in admiration before placing the tip of the needle against the surface of the breast. He pressed slightly to make a depression then quickly forced it in as far as it would go.
“Want to see the new trick I learned from one of my clients,” asked Warren?
“Which one,” asked Hank twisting the needle as it punctured the flesh?
“Seth Brophy.”
“That sick bastard, show me,” said Hank.
“It’s called bone scraping. You put the needle through the side of the tit right above the top rib. Then you push down to where the tip rests on the bone and you give it a little wiggle,” said Warren.
“Mercy, no more, please,” screamed Christine as she felt the metal tip scrape over the surface of the bone. The pain was so intense she almost blacked out.
“Let me give it a try,” said Hank.
The intense pain of the needle on the bone brought Christine to a loud, screaming orgasm.
“The more you hurt her, the harder she cums,” said Warren inserting another needle. “When she screams like that, it makes me want to blast my load down her throat.”
“Let’s finish with her tits and flip her over. I promised myself an ass fuck,” said Hank.
The two men pounded their cocks into Christine keeping their excitement at a pitch by inserting needles into her breasts until they reached her rib or sternum then scraping the point across the surface. Christine had reached the Tantric plateau of continuous orgasm as the men once more filled her orifices with their seed. After they finished, they turned her over causing her badly whipped front side to contact the rough tree bark. The needless remaining in her swollen breasts added to her agony. Once again, while stretched to the maximum possible extent, her backside was methodically whipped from the top of her shoulders to the soles of her feet.
“Think your cunt’s big enough to take this,” asked Warren putting a super sized dildo in front of her face. “Actually, you opinion doesn’t count.”
Christine groaned as she felt the faux cock expand her entrance.
“She loves it, Hank,” said Warren pressing with the palm of his hand against the base.
Slowly, Christine felt the walls of her vagina expand giving way to an object whose girth far exceeded the capacity of her tunnel. Christine ground her clitoris against the bark seeking to reduce the pain by distracting her senses.
“That’s what I call a stuffed pussy,” said Hank taking multiple close up images with his camera. “Here, take a look, Christine. I bet you’re wondering if your pussy will ever snap back to its normal size.”
When Christine looked in the display, she found it hard to believe those were her labia stretched around the base of the dildo. While she was looking at the images, she felt a finger enter her rectum.
“This is going to be an ass fuck you’re never going to forget,” said Warren slipping a second finger inside Christine. “The dildo in your cunt acts as a bushing tightening up your ass.”
“It feels so tight,” said Christine as Warren’s fingers stretched her sphincter open.
“You Boot Camp ass whores are used to being butt-fucked. Last time we were here, this little blonde slut loved having my cock up her ass. Her butt was so loose we had to stick both our fists in to make her feel it. So Hank and I decided a new approach was in order,” said Warren leaning forward to place his cock at the center of Christine rosebud.
Warren’s new approach worked. The dildo caused her rectum and bowel to be much tighter than normal. As Warren’s cock reached its maximum depth, the pain recalled Christine’s first anal intercourse. It hurt like hell.
“How is it,” asked Hank standing beside Warren waiting his turn.
“Tight, fits like a glove,” said Warren delivering a loud slap to Christine’s rear. “Not going to last long.”
A few strokes later, Warren released into Christine’s asshole that was screaming in pain.
As Hank mounted her, Warren hopped over the log to present his cock to her mouth.
“Lick it clean, bitch,” said Warren raising Christine’s head to bring her lips to his cock.
After Hank finished, they untied Christine. They removed the rings from the base of her breasts. That proved to be an incredibly painful process as her swollen boobs were forced back through the much smaller openings.
“Good job, Christine, here’s my card with my private number if you ever want this kind of action back in the city. I know a dominatrix that rents out dungeons by the hour,” said Hank returning their things to his backpack.
“Here’s mine,” said Warren putting his card in her hand then handing her a bottle of water.
“All right if I bring a friend,” asked Christine thinking that an afternoon of Hank and Warren’s loving care might be the perfect way to pay Genevieve back for sleeping with her husband.
“If she’s as pretty as you are, sure why not,” said Warren.
As Warren and Hank were finishing their packing, two unsuccessful hunters stepped out from behind a nearby tree. One of them had an obvious semen stain on his fatigues.
“You two finished with her,” asked one of the men sounding sheepish?
“Doesn’t she look finished,” asked Warren glancing in Christine’s direction? Christine was leaning against the log barely able to stand.
“I’d say you got pretty much all she’s got but I’d still like to give her a try,” said the other man. “We took a lot of shots but they all missed.”
“She’s yours,” said Hank handing Christine’s leash to one of the men.
“Enjoy,” said Warren walking away leaving Christine with the two hunters who had been watching her suffer for the last hour.
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