Chasing Paradise Ch 13

Chapter 13 - The Hunt Begins

Yorotani Island - The Hunting Grounds

Saffi's heart was pounding as she ran. As soon as the watches had signalled the countdown there had been a frenzy of activity. No one knew where the hunters were, how they would try to stop the runners, or even if what they knew was at all true.

The faster girls had outpaced her straight away, striking out into dense jungle and forest at lightning speed; their powerful thighs and calves working like pistons as they left behind more than half the women in the hunt. For all Saffi knew they were running headlong into danger, or worse.

She was alone. Completely alone. She slowed for a second and glanced at the watch on her wrist. It was infuriating. The main screen gave a broad idea of the safe zone she could venture into but around the edge was a wide band giving her a rough direction to where the eventual goal would be, somewhere in a rough 90 degree arc. That wouldn't be bad if she was close, but with two days on foot the guide was next to useless.

At first she'd thought she'd be embarrassed to run in just the harness, collar, and boots; her flesh exposed, handles available all over her body to grab her and pull her down with. As she ran she began to realise that instead it made her feel more free than she'd felt in her life. The day was warm, and the sun that made it through the canopy of the forest made it warmer still, but with her skin bare she felt the cool sea breezes, and her sweat seemed to dry and be gone in seconds. At moments the intensity of it all claimed her. The rush of knowing she had only had herself to rely on, and for some reason the idea that the hunters were after her almost became thrilling.

In her mind she played back some of her last few days at home as she picked up her pace once more. She'd turned 18, the only source of celebration in the house was her father, knowing that he'd done his duty to the state, and would soon be providing them with another purchasable pussy to satiate the desires of anyone willing to pay for her. She knew other girls would turn 18 and receive their cards for limited exemption from slavery either as part of a new job, or as a gift from well off parents; if she wanted one she knew she'd have to find a way to get it through her own means.

Despite the fact she wanted to stay free, though, Saffi wasn't without her own impulses. She knew that at some point even as a bareneck she would have to serve men, willingly or unwillingly, so she had been very careful about catching the right boy alone. They were in the same class, his name was Gregor, and like her he was from an immigrant family, it meant he was somewhat apart from the other boys, often on his own. She knew he stayed late once or twice a week to pack away after the school chess club had finished.

Once everyone had left except for him, she returned to the classroom where the club met, she'd made sure to leave a bag there earlier. She'd apologised for walking in and interrupting him, he was there with his slave Amanda "Cummyslut" Williams; her cheeks were bright red from the slapping she'd taken for failing to relieve him mid-match when he needed to lower the stress he was under. For a moment when he saw her there was still anger in his eyes, but she saw it soften as he looked at her. She had known at the time that for most men it didn't take a lot of pushing, a smile, a little adjustment of her ponytail, a look into their eyes to turn them into the kind of feral beast she wanted.

She didn't normally wear a ponytail, but she could see why some freewomen did. She bent over to pick up her bag and the ponytail had been in his grip before she knew it. Seconds later he had her face down on the teacher's desk with a still crying Cummyslut pinning her wrists, and Gregor indelicately using a foot to spread Saffi's legs at the ankles. She'd fingered herself before of course, but that was nothing compared to the feeling of being held down while he forced his cock inside her. She knew many girls would feel ashamed at this as she felt the slap of his flesh against her backside but she knew this was probably her one opportunity to do this and have it be her choice, but just for the sake of things she squirmed, and made some meagre attempts to escape.

After a few minutes it became clear that despite Gregor being on the chess team he wasn't a slouch when it came to staying in shape. More than once she'd been tempted to let her eyes roll into her head and relax as he took total control of her, but she stayed with it. She'd looked up at Cummyslut from time to time as she was being rapidly penetrated; Cummyslut avoided her eyes, looking away as it made any difference. Saffi very carefully timed her next move, waiting until Cummyslut had lifted the pressure a little as Saffi pretended to relax and then with a swift yank Saffi pulled her inwards, twisting her arms as she did so Cummyslut ended up upside down beneath her. Saffi pushed down and backwards with deceptively strong muscles for someone her size.

Gregor had laughed as Cummyslut's surprised and embarassed face appeared between Saffi's thighs, his balls slapping her forehead with each thrust. The slave was still holding onto Saffi's wrists, though, as she had no other instruction so Saffi did what seemed only natural in the situation and plunged her tongue into Cummyslut's quivering pussy.

The girl had shrieked, she was a newly minted slave that week, still unused to the pleasures and beatings that came with it. Gregor had laughed more and instead of continuing to pull Saffi's ponytail now pushed it down, forcing her tongue deeper into Cummyslut. It didn't take long to realise Cummyslut first of all had a very appropriate name, and secondly had been well used just recently. There was a distinctly warm and gooey texture to go with the salty taste in Saffi's mouth. She didn't mind, Cummyslut seemed to be naturally quite juicy and slightly sweet for her part, the mixture of flavours went well together.

It didn't take long for Gregor to pull up on the ponytail once more; grabbing Cummyslut too he forced both girls to their knees in front of him in a classic cock worship position. Saffi was beginning to work up a sweat now, but she wasn't sure if she was panting from the exertion, the excitement or her pure primal need to run her tongue along the cock that stood before her. Saffi did not have long to wait before Gregor began to use the girls once more. He alternated raping the girl's throats for a while, before rather unceremoniously blowing his load in Cummyslut's mouth. For a second the girl struggled, one hand under her chin, the other on the back of her skull as she was locked in place ready to accept whatever load came her way. Saffi saw her lean back, and open her mouth while fresh tears ran down her face so her master could see she had everything; this was when Saffi made another move. She grabbed Cummyslut's face with both hands and launched an extended lip lock, letting the cum and both girls' saliva mix and swirl between their mouths before downing it all for herself.

Saffi remembered the look in Cummyslut's face as she was robbed of her meal, even if it was one she didn't really want. She wasn't sure what to make of the expression, disgust at Saffi, a little bit of envy as it meant she was getting nothing to eat, but overall Saffi came to the conclusion that the facial expression could be summed up as 'Why?'. Saffi didn't really know herself, but she knew that she had to try this all before she either ran for her life, or was sold to someone like Gregor for a couple of thousand bucks. Mostly she felt like she wanted more, but on her terms, and those were terms she knew she could never have. She looked up at Gregor as she knelt, and only saw at the last second the well placed hand that slapped her right across the face.

She'd swallowed without asking.

Even without ownership it was bad manners in Pussiana to swallow without being told to, she remembered. She didn't apologise as that would only worsen what she'd done, she just silently presented her face for more of the same. Eventually both she and Cummyslut were left with flushed and stinging faces, Cummyslut hadn't even done anything wrong, so she presumed this was merely completion of her earlier beating.

Suddenly snapped back out of that time and place to her here and now. She brought herself to a rapid stop, flattening herself against a tree trunk, listening for more of the noise that had kicked her out of her idle daydream. In front of her she could see a clearing in the forest, a collection of tumbled standing stones forming a loose ring near its centre, only one of which was really even close to upright. It looked like something ancient or sacred but long left to ruin.

Suddenly a woman burst through the edge of the clearing, she was breathing hard, and running at speed. Branches and foliage moved behind her, she looked over her shoulder, her breathing in the long sharp breaths of complete panic. Saffi almost shouted to the girl, she needed to hide rather than try to cross the clearing, Saffi could already hear her pursuers were too close to do much else.

The girl only needed another 10 metres, and Saffi willed her to be faster. The treeline was close. A strange sound filled the air. A whooshing noise followed by a sharp snap. The girl fell, her knees tightly bound. From what Saffi could see thin metal cables entangled the girl's legs; spherical weights at the very ends ensuring the cables wrapped and intertwined. She flipped onto her front, breathing hard, coughing as the wind had been knocked out of her. It was a half second before she realised what had happened and she started to reach down to free herself.

Her hands never made it to the cables. Instead her face twisted and she screamed as her back arched while her limbs curled and spasmed.

"Well I'll be damned Carlos." said a male voice as its owner entered the clearing. It was a tall man in his 40s Saffi didn't remember seeing before. "Those things are exactly as effective as you said. Guess I owe you 500 bucks..."

Two other men entered the clearing behind him, one had a grin on his tanned face a mile wide. "I told you, Samuel, bolos are a great tool. My cowhands use them all the time on cunts fleeing bovinisation." She realised she knew this man, he'd been on television. She struggled to remember before he grinned again, and the image of his smiling face surrounded by a herd of softly mooing bovinised girls came to mind. This was Carlos Leché. What dairy products Pussiana wasn't making for itself these days were likely either imports from his ranches in the grasslands of the south of the continent, or came from farms owned by the same company.

"You know what that tells me, Carlos? That your cowhands ain't doing a particularly good job beforehand of restraining those cunts." said the third man, a sneer passing his thick rubbery lips. He looked back and continued casually watching the girl writhe and scream. "You gonna stop this at any point, or just wait until she's gone into cardiac arrest?"

"Relax, Oscar, the voltage is not so high to kill her, but a minute or two of this and she'll be unable to do much for the next several days after her muscles lose their stored energy. If you notice she can't really maintain the back arch any more."

Saffi watched as Carlos pulled a remote out of the bright orange hunting jacket he wore and tapped it. The girl's body relaxed, and she whimpered softly. With a quick shove from the toe of his dusty boot he flipped her back over so she was once more facing down into the dirt. Pinning her with a knee between the shoulderblades he knelt and brushed the hair on the back of her collar away to look at something.

"Seventeen, okay, who drafted Seventeen?" he said, sighing looking at a plate embedded in the posture collar. Saffi instinctively reached back, she found one on herself too. She hadn't realised the runners had all been numbered for hunter convenience.

"I'm afraid that was me, closest you got was nineteen and twenty-one" replied Oscar, smirking. "This cunt is very much mine." Carlos stood and made a hand gesture that intimated she was all Oscar's to take. The thick set man leant forward and grabbed the handle on the back of the girl's shoulders, she hung limply, moaning slightly as she was moved, her boots trailing behind her in the dirt, a string of drool passing from her mouth onto the grass below.

"Never mind, I'm sure the next one will be on your list, Carlos. What say we make it a challenge? Electrocunt control sticks only, but while driving the ATVs?" asked Samuel.

The spring was suddenly back in Carlos' step. "Yes, but let's go for a low setting, make sure it takes a few hits to drop them. It's always good to watch them run scared for a bit first..."

Yorotani Island - The Hunting Grounds

Jacinda swung her leg up onto the horse. She was feeling a little frustrated after she'd taken it upon herself to get involved in her husband's playtime with that bareneck receptionist, but been denied the opportunity either to get herself off, or please another man in the process. She'd been so wet all day both before and after that she was afraid a stiff breeze might tip her over the edge and have her cumming quite literal buckets. The cool hard leather of the saddle resting against her crotch led to a sharp intake of breath, and a bite of the lip that was doing that particular issue no favours either.

She suspected that the breakfast her husband had ordered for her, delivered while she was showering, was laced with something or several somethings; it wouldn't have been the first time. Still, she thought, he'd seemed to have enjoyed his view of the proceedings. She hadn't even had time to dry off before he ordered her to the table; She sat there stark naked with droplets of cool water dribbling over her pale skin. She knew he liked to see this, her large wet breasts with water beading and pooling on them. Within a few moments of her taking her seat he'd had Silkytits crawling all over her, licking, kissing, nibbling purely for his amusement and arousal. By the time Jacinda had finished the meal she'd wanted nothing more than to pin the slut to the floor and ravage the girl herself but Dickie had made sure she didn't have the chance. Jacinda had been sent to dress for the day while Silkytits bobbed her head on her husband's member.

She couldn't complain much, Jacinda thought, Dickie had given her a whole day to relax after her gruelling treatment at the hands of the Slavecops. While he'd been meeting other hunters, swapping tips, and drinking in the bar she'd taken time to explore more of the hotel. It was at the same time both beautiful, and deeply sinister, she thought. Everywhere was a parade of black granite, white marble, and accents of a vibrant blood red. The whole thing echoed some coastal palace in Stivalonia, its huge echoey corridors were nearly always open to the sun or used hidden lighting to make sure none of the opulence was missed.

Knowing she wouldn't really be needed to service her husband until later she'd opted instead of her normal riding gear to go for a light white sundress with a high slit up the sides. She knew it left little to the imagination, and standing backlit by a window wearing it had seen her getting fucked from the rear on some of the best hotel balconies money could pay for. Not that she minded, that was the point after all. One particular trip to a pre-slavery nation she'd caused quite some consternation when Dickie had seen her in a similar dress and used his belt to pin her arms to her sides before fucking her in full view of everyone in the hotel pool. Less fun had been that on finishing he'd then bundled her over the edge of the balcony into the pool and she'd had to try and tread water, tangled in the sundress, arms pinned to her sides, while she held onto the mouthful of cum she had been told she could swallow when she got back into the bedroom.

She'd made it back to the room on that day, swallowing the mouthful when ordered, she wondered what the women of that tiny city state buried on the south coast of Chattelande thought of her. She'd stopped caring what other people thought since then. Only her husband really mattered now.

As she finished up adjustments to her horse's tack she thought of her day of rest some more, how she'd been pampered and preened by slaves she'd picked from the hotel ordering system. They were all nice girls, she'd deliberately picked very docile personalities so that when she held one close to kiss or finger them they'd meekly accepted like the blushing young cunts they were. The pair of dark skinned twins she'd picked to massage her clit in a large warm bath were worth almost any discomfort she could ever suffer.

She caught herself as one breath came out as more of a quiet moan. She stopped herself, taking one long breath in, and one long breath out to try and calm herself. Instead all she could feel was the heat and moisture of her own breath, her mouth watering as she thought Dickie, the gorgeous slavegirls, and the scared and struggling pussy Dickie hoped to capture on the hunt. Dickie looked back on hearing her and, grinned as he caught her dopey eyed, fantasising, and without even realising it rubbing her crotch across the saddle.

"Feeling a little hot under the collar are we, darling?" he asked, his boyish grin having spread almost ear to ear.

"Yes I---uh...I'm having a little trouble--"

"--focussing?" he interrupted and finished her sentence for you. "Yes, I thought you might. You know I've always enjoyed seeing you get worked up on a horseback ride. Still, that batch of girlheaters in your breakfast should wear off by tomorrow...but they'll hit peak effectiveness well before then."

Jacinda wanted to be angry, to throttle the bastard, but that was the tiny rational part of her brain that was even close to functioning. Every other fibre of her being was telling her to tear off her clothes, find a good solid tree, and beg to be railed until the sun went down.

Dickie adjusted his own tack some more, laughing to himself as he did. Silkytits wasn't really used to being a saddle for her Master yet, she was still brand new; as he mounted her back and faced forwards she faced backwards, gagged, frogtied, and with a double penetrating toy that functioned as the horn of the saddle. Jacinda could see the pain on the girl's face already, pleading eyes looked into hers. She had no idea how much worse she'd feel after a few hours of this, and then being used as the evening's entertainment, thought Jacinda.

She attempted to bury her horniness by thinking about the hunt ahead. She'd been hunted twice and won twice herself, so unlike any other wives at the hotel her husband had paid for her to be allowed to hunt. She looked at her wrist watch, a simple analogue thing, unlike the tracking and punishment tag she'd worn as prey. By now the runners would have had their inspections, their grades would have been checked, most of them would have been raped in the process with any failures trussed up and sent to the hotel to either add to the harem or sell later. They'd have seen the video on the rules, and be rapidly attempting to make use of their head start.

The head start mattered less than any of them would know, of course, as the Hunters were allowed free reign of where they started, with the exception of a small zone around the release point to prevent the hunters catching all the prey too soon. Jacinda knew what kind of men most of these were, though, some of them might not even really try until the second day. They wanted the runners to feel lost, alone, exhausted, and then they'd toy with them: shepherding them into areas with no escape, running them down from vehicles or horseback, deliberately "failing" to capture them so the prey would run all the harder. She'd seen it all, she even knew the plans for some of the regulars who tried to entertain themselves in different ways every year in ever stranger or more sadistic ways.