The Hunt 35

I was a thirty one year old malcontent, feeling that I was not achieving any of my goals in life, and not sure how to go about changing that.

My divorce had become final a month ago. Megan and I had been madly in love, but when she said she wasn't happy anymore and wanted out after six years of marriage I merely shrugged my shoulders. I didn't have the interest in or energy for rekindling the spark. Fortunately we had no kids and the split was as amicable as that type of thing can be.

I had been passed over for promotion at work two times in the last three years. While I was an above average producer, for some reason I didn't "click" with the powers that be. That was an enormous blow to my ego since I had been in the top 10% of my class at one of the five best graduate business schools in the country.

I had quit playing competitive basketball a year and a half ago; I had been playing in one league or another since I was eight years old, including starting for a Division III school in college. Sometimes I played in two adult leagues at the same time. However, I had lost my passion for the game, just like for almost everything else.

I badly needed to hunger for something – to compete and win – to challenge myself – to go outside my zone of comfort. Nothing was presenting itself.

After my divorce I had downsized and consolidated my assets. I sold everything that didn't fit into an efficiency apartment, my motorcycle, and my small boat. A four year old Ford Fusion was my only means of transportation. I had enough money saved to change careers, but so far not the guts or a plan for the future – flipping burgers at Wendy's is a big fall from being a marketing executive for a Fortune 500 company.

I guess I really didn't deserve some help from serendipity, but thankfully I got it. Carl, my most friendly co-worker, was a real oddball in the IT department. We initially interfaced because I had more than my share of technology problems over my five years at my Fortune 500 employer, but we both were a "little off" so we ate lunch together at least once a week, went to ball games together, and even worked out together once in a while – when I had the energy.

"Hey Brain," Carl chuckled as he walked into my office just before noon on a Tuesday, using his pet perversion of my name "Brian." "I know that you're in a Megan-work-sports funk and you need to snap out of it soon or I'll have to bitch slap you." That was a joke since I'm six foot six inches tall and 230 pounds, and Carl is five eight, 150. "I got just the thing," he snickered.

"Lay it on me IT genius," I nonchalantly replied, not believing that anything that he would propose would be worthwhile.

"It's an adventure called 'The Hunt.' It's on an island that's privately owned, and not part of any country. And it's competitive and sexual. You haven't been laid in two months and you haven't even played me in chess for another three months, so it's right up your alley," he snickered. "Let me sign on to the website on your computer," he said as he closed my door, pushed my chair to the side, and ran his nimble fingers over the keyboard.

I have to say that the website immediately got my attention. The adventure was based upon men hunting women for sexual pleasure. All participants signed contracts waving all rights except for injury-inducing assault and murder (thanks for that), and the small but efficient security force on the private island only enforced those laws. Theft and sexual assault (without injury and by only one person) were acceptable. All women participants did have a panic button, which if pressed would bring the authorities to their rescue, but were counseled not to use it except in the case of real danger otherwise they'd be expelled.

Then I evaluated the competitive nature of it. Men who succeeded in hunting down women could do what they wanted with them (again, subject only to the panic button being pressed). Women could score in two ways – by avoiding capture, or by capturing a guy and removing all his possessions or – probably not likely – sexually assaulting him as they saw fit. Women could band together in teams, men could not. There was an entry fee of $25,000 for men and $5,000 for women ("sexual discrimination" I laughed to myself) for the three week experience, and a prize of $100,000 for the winner based upon a complex scoring system.

My eyes glazed over as I worked my way through the website. Carl laughed at me as he exited my room. "Better not let the V. P. catch you on that website at work, Brain; I'll leave you to your thoughts, knowing that I've done a solid for my buddy."

I snapped out of my stupor, copied the web address, opened up a work related program on my computer, and got back to my boring job.

I couldn't wait to get to my efficiency apartment that night to get on the website for The Hunt on my laptop. I ordered Chinese delivery and snarffed it down while perusing the site. By payment of a $100 "Good Faith Fee" one could get access to photos (no names or cities) of the other participants who had signed up for the next three week session, to start in about a month from the date that I was perusing the site.

I paid the $100 fee with a credit card and logged on.

There were already seven people signed up, four guys, three women. The company running The Hunt made sure that they always had an equal number of each even if they had to hire prostitutes or college girls who couldn't pay their tuition to bring up the number of women. The seven were from four different countries, four from the U S, one from Brazil, one from Australia, and one from Germany.

The last photo of the participants caused me to do a triple take. "Holy Shit!" I mumbled aloud, "That sure looks like Jen!"

Jen LeBeouf is a woman six years younger than I am who worked with me four years ago for about nine months. I had a hard-on for her, and I think that if we both hadn't been married that we would have been fucking up a storm regardless of location or circumstance. As it was, we never got together, although we were both flirtatious toward each other and she was the subject of many of my dreams.

Jen was – and based on her photo still is – a short (probably only 5 foot three inches tall, 15 inches shorter than me) big-assed woman with killer thighs, a slim upper body with tiny tits, big doe brown eyes and silky brunette hair, and a face that defined "cute." She was also the personification of the phrase "Classy, Sassy, and Smart Assy."

I looked up her old personal email address in my iPhone; there was no way to communicate with the enrollees on the site, and I was sure that the email address that I had was obsolete; but it was all that I had so I gave it a try.

"Say Sassy," I started out the email, using my nickname for her. "I was on the website for The Hunt and it sure looked like you have already signed up for participation. Is that you? If so, why are you on the site, and what would you say to me signing up?"

I was on pins and needles for almost a week waiting for Jen's reply, including making visits to the website three or four times a day, noticing that two more women and three more men had signed up. Finally the next Monday I got a reply.

"Hey Dongmaster," she started out, using one of her many nicknames for me. "Don't you have anything better to do than surf the web? Me, I'm divorced, with a massive settlement from my rich but limp-dicked ex, between jobs, and anxious to try an exciting competition and maybe even get a little cock while I'm at it. The only thing that would make it more fun would be for you to futilely try and catch me. I have every intention of winning and even though I know that you'd try your best to fuck me since you've always found me your fantasy woman, you'd lose. Save yourself the humiliation of losing to me – or who knows, maybe a miracle will happen and you'll be lucky enough to stuff my tight little pussy with your bone." This was followed by a smiley emoji.

Attached was a photo of her naked.

I beat my meat so hard to that photo that I came within 90 seconds flat.

I signed up that same night paying the $25,000 fee by credit card, and sent her a responsive email.

"Hey Sassy: You're looking good – really, really good. I can't wait to fill all of your holes with my meat. I accept your challenge!"

When the next day I told the V P of my section that I'd need three weeks and two days (for travel) off in about a month, in no uncertain terms he said "No way!" I gave my two weeks' notice on the spot. He sputtered, and then cursed me, but I didn't give a shit.

I prepaid the rent for my efficiency apartment for the time that I'd be gone, used up all of my vacation time so that I worked only three more days, and spent the rest of my time working out to get physically ready, and taking survival and wilderness courses. This included paintball instruction since paintball guns were a significant part of the first jockeying for position on the island among the guys. I also continued to trade sexually charged barbs with Jen by email, causing me to get a hard-on every time that we communicated.

I was as nervous as I had ever been in my life as I flew to The Hunt, with only a small duffle bag of essentials (including all of the little blue pills that I could score – I'm an optimist) and with a 3x5 color printout of the naked photo of Jen in my shirt pocket. As luck would have it Jen was on the last connection flight – as were a number of other people I recognized from the website as participants. I got a big smile and hug from Jen; we sat next to each other, maintaining body contact the entire flight. As we parted once we got to the bivouac site I whispered to Jen "I don't suppose that you'd let me catch you?"

"Hey dipshit," Jen replied with a diabolical grin, "what about my past history and personality leads you to believe that's even a remote possibility? As they say there are only two chances of that, slim and none, and slim just left town." She followed that up by pulling my head down to hers and sticking her tongue in my ear. Then she wiggled her sexy over-sized ass as she sauntered away without a look back. I tried hard to cover the tent in my pants.

************

We had a dinner in the main dining hall where everyone was introduced using a code name; no real names were ever used on or for anything. Jen's code name was "Sassy" (I guess I'm not the only person who had her personality pegged), mine was "Stretch," obviously one with no imagination since I was the tallest. There were ten men and ten women. Clearly two of the women were college girls who couldn't pay their tuition and were getting it paid for participating in The Hunt. Eight different countries were represented, but it seemed like everyone spoke pretty decent English.

Jen and another woman, code-named Delilah, seemed to know each other, and Jen introduced her to me. Delilah was very friendly and flirty and quite nice looking, although almost the opposite of Jen. She was tall (probably 5 feet 11 inches), thin, with a medium sized ass but oversized boobs, long blond hair, and a cute face.

The next morning the rules were drilled into us again, and everyone re-signed on hard copy waivers that we had already submitted by email. We were each given a small backpack that contained approved essentials, including (for the men) a paintball gun. We men also had a pressure sensitive plate on our chests. If you were hit on the breast plate with a paint ball it automatically deactivated your gun, and you had to return to base camp and were out of the competition for two days. We could add our own implements as long as they fit within the small backpack, and no weapons were allowed.

The active part of the island for The Hunt was irregularly shaped, with vastly different topography from place-to-place; it was approximately fifty seven square miles in area.

The women were given a six hour head start, and then the men were started out in two different directions, each pair fifteen minutes in front of the next pair. I was in the last pair and headed North, but immediately turned East once I got into the deep woods.

The first night was uneventful. The first full day after that night was anything but uneventful.

I stumbled upon two guys – aptly code-named Weasel and Badger since they were devious animals and by far the ugliest contestants– who had teamed up and captured a nineteen year old college girl named Princess. Their teaming up was completely against the rules, and it was clear that they had deactivated Princess' panic button because although she was obviously freaked-out her button hardware was off to the side, along with all of her clothes.

I'm not the type to stand idly by when something is wrong. I wasn't going to waste any time talking with these two assholes. I grabbed a sturdy, heavy, club-like part of a tree limb from the ground near the clearing where Weasel and Badger were starting their sexual assault of Princess and without making significant noise I came charging out of the woods at them. I hit Weasel in the head with the hardest one-handed swing of the club that I could muster as he was kneeling behind Princess about to stick his misshapen cock up her twat. As Badger stood up to confront me I kicked him in the balls bending him over, and then hit him in the back of the head with both hands swinging the club, which snapped upon impact.

I got the dazed Princess to her feet, helped her get dressed, and had her activate her panic button. Three security guys on ATVs were there surprisingly quickly, directed by the GPS locator in her panic button. Weasel was just regaining consciousness when they arrived, although Badger was still prone and completely out-of-it.

Princess and I both told them our stories independently. The security guys revived Badger with smelling salts, handcuffed both of them, and took them and Princess away, although Princess promised that she'd be back in the game soon. Before she left I pulled her aside.

"Princess, I'd really like to find Sassy. Do you have any idea where she is?"

Princess smiled. "The least that I can do is to help you after you saved me from those two ugly bastards. Sassy and Delilah teamed up and said that they were going to the far northeastern part of the island. All the women decided on different routes and locations, so I'm pretty sure that's accurate. Also, here's the map that they give to the women but not the men, with lean-to and cabin locations. I'm sure that they're heading to one of them."

"Thanks," I said with a smile.

"Thank you," she replied and then quickly kissed me on the lips.

I immediately took off toward the northeastern corner of the game zone. My workout sessions and wilderness courses really helped me out because I made it to the first of the lean-tos in the northeastern section shortly after nightfall. After stumbling around for about ten minutes in the total darkness that had enveloped the area I couldn't believe it – there was a campfire visible, probably only 200 meters ahead.

I quickly snuck up to the outskirts of the clearing where the lean-to was located. There was Sassy and her big beautiful round ass, obviously already very dirty from her day and a half in the wilderness, and her hair disheveled. Next to her was Delilah. I chuckled that one had a big ass and little tits, and the other a little ass and big tits. I couldn't be sure if Delilah's tits were natural, but if they were they were really, really nice.

I could hear them talking but only bits and pieces of what they were saying. Apparently they had started the fire because they were chilly – although it had to be at least 75 degrees Fahrenheit so I couldn't figure out why they were chilly. They were going over plans for the next day; the best that I could understand them those plans were a trek toward the most remote cabin, which was well stocked with supplies, according to them and according to the notes on the map that Princess had given me. Of particular interest were their comments about me, which I heard more clearly because I crept closer.

"So when are we going to capture Brian or let him capture us?" Delilah asked.

I was really surprised that she used my real name instead of my code name. That meant that Sassy/Jen had talked to her about me; interesting.

"We're not going to let him – nor anyone else – catch us," Sassy snickered. "However if we catch him remember you're not the only one who's going to fuck him; I'm gonna fuck him too. As I told you before I talked you into signing up for this adventure that I'd have fucked him when we worked together about four years ago if he wasn't married to that bitch Megan then and not willing to cheat."

"How can we find him?" Delilah asked.

"Once we get to the cabin I'll devise a plan," Sassy chuckled.

"Say, is the fire getting low? Want me to get some more kindling?" Delilah asked.

"Yeah, why don't you, then I'll get the last load before we try and get some sleep," Sassy responded.

This was perfect. I didn't like my chances of capturing them both at exactly the same time – one was sure to escape. But getting them one at a time "Is going to be duck soup," I said to myself as I pulled a strip of duct tape and three sets of handcuffs from my backpack and followed Delilah into the woods.

As Delilah was bending over to pick up some kindling I snuck up behind her, pinned her arms to her body with one of mine as I simultaneously lifted her off the ground and slapped the strip of duct tape over her mouth with my other hand. Only a very small shriek came out of her mouth before the tape was in place.

Delilah struggled, but she had no hope of matching my strength. I bent her on her knees, pulled her hands behind her and cuffed them together, cuffed her ankles together, and cuffed her handcuffs to her ankle cuffs. I retrieved my backpack, removed my blanket from it, and laid her cuffed body on her side on the blanket so that she'd be more comfortable.

"Sorry, Delilah," I whispered. "I need to leave you here for some time while I capture and fuck Sassy. Do you think that you'll be OK like this for an hour?"

She looked around wide-eyed, nodded her head "yes," then I kissed her on the forehead and took off.

I snuck up behind the lean-to, but I couldn't see Sassy clearly while she was seated. I wanted her to stand up to make the capture the easiest. I threw a rock into the woods in front of the lean-to – where Delilah had disappeared to – which made a noise causing Sassy to stand up and say "Is that you Delilah?"

I rushed Sassy and pinned her arms to her side. I put a strip of duct tape over her mouth just like I did with Delilah in case there were any other participants nearby, but I didn't cuff her the same way that I did Delilah. Instead I just cuffed one hand in front of her, carried her into the lean-to, slipped the chain of the cuffs around a vertical metal bar supporting the lean-to, and then cuffed her other hand.

Sassy was struggling mightily, undulating her entire body and trying to kick me with her legs. I put part of my weight on her and positioned myself so that she couldn't do any real damage to me and smiled at her as she tried her damnedest to get free. I let her tire herself out for about ten minutes, and then I removed my clothes. My cock was so hard that I could have driven spikes with it – her eyes got really big when she saw it.

Most of the steam was out of her kicks as I got between her legs, pulled off her shorts and panties, and then started licking her clit and fingering her pussy. What at first appeared to be sounds of protest coming from her taped-over mouth shortly changed to sounds of pleasure, as her pussy spontaneously spasmed, soon followed by what only could have been an orgasm.

Once her orgasm subsided I stuck my rock-hard cock into her sopping wet pussy and started stroking.