Hunted 11

*All characters are 18+. This is a work of fiction for erotic entertainment only. Real-life sex should always be with enthusiastic consent.*

*Written for

Summer Lovin' Story Contest 2023

.*

***

"Run."

What would you do if you heard that word tossed into the wind, rumbling like distant thunder in the sweltering air?

It was a beautiful summer day. Only a few wispy clouds graced the sky, a cool breeze off the ocean alleviating the bright heat. This was my favorite beach—quiet, long, beautiful. There were tide pools hidden in the rocks, bone-white driftwood scattered amongst stretches of pebbly sand, little waves lapping gently at the shore. I'd spotted an eel curled up in the shallows.

The beach was even emptier than usual today—not a single person in the last half hour that I'd been casually strolling, hopping up and down the trail. Up a short dirt and sand incline, the trail bordered bushes and trees that quickly grew into a dense forest. My light summer dress snagged on bushes as I ducked under a branch. Walking, humming, and simply enjoying the day, I wasn't really thinking about anything. It was nice to let go of the world like that sometimes.

So I wasn't sure when I realized that someone was behind me. Further back and walking slowly, this person was quiet. Just someone out on a nice day.

I mostly forgot about him. Whenever I turned to look at something, I might catch him out of the corner of my eye. A few minutes later, he seemed a little closer. He was taller than me—most people were. His stride was naturally longer.

Movement in the forest made me stop for a moment. A colorful bird flew away. Another chased after it, chittering. Happening to glance behind me again, I blinked and turned back to the trail, continuing on. That person seemed to have been staring straight at me. I was probably mistaken.

But now I was a bit nervous. I still hadn't seen anyone else. My car was a half-hour walk in the other direction—his direction. My phone had no reception out here.

I brushed my hair out of my face and laughed at myself a little. I was being paranoid for no reason. He was just minding his own business, walking on the path. It wasn't

my

beach. Smiling at my overactive brain, I glanced to the side as waves crashed against rocks, foamy white waters spraying into the air.

Gravel crunched. He was closer. I could see his dark eyes watching me.

Flashing him a nervous, friendly smile, I kept walking. I might've sped up a little. Passing people was awkward on this narrow trail.

It must have been my imagination that his steps were faster too. I glanced back. He was even closer. And still staring intently.

My palms began to sweat. He wasn't doing anything terribly odd. The staring... maybe we just kept looking at each other at the same time. Maybe he was blind.

I walked faster.

His pace matched mine. Every time I hurried, he did as well. The scuff of his shoes sounded louder. Too loud. Too close. I could feel his eyes on the back of my neck.

He was following me. He was staring at me.

The hair on my arms stood up. The warm breeze felt cold on my sweaty skin. My muscles tensed.

And then I heard that word.

It wasn't shouted or particularly loud, but it carried somehow. Like his laughter carried, bouncing off the trees, coming from all directions, enveloping me, caging me.

I ran.

Wild and stumbling, my sandaled feet slipping on smooth rocks and crunchy, dried grass. Humid breezes picked up my hair while slow, rolling laughter chased me.

I turned blindly into the trees, hoping to lose him. I didn't know where I was going. I just ran, pushing off of rough bark, kicking my legs free of tangling vines, brushing aside hanging branches and papery leaves.

All sense of direction fled me except away. Away from that voice, from the echoing mockery lingering in my ears.

A thin branch stung my cheek. I put a hand to the cut, my eyes darting from bush to tree to rock.

My car. Which way to my car? Just keep running. I had to keep moving.

My heart beat faster than my hurried steps. Every moment was another chance to trip, to be caught. I could still hear his footsteps—purposeful, thumping. Or was that my heart pounding in my ears? The urge to look behind me tingled at my spine.

With a cry, my toe kicked a root, and I tumbled to the rocky forest floor, my hands scrabbling at sand and dirt, my knees banging on that thick root, my twisted ankles waiting to be grabbed. Any second now, I'd feel his strength dragging me, pulling me to him, claiming me.

Not yet. Scrambling to my feet, I took off again. I couldn't help it. I looked over my shoulder.

Nothing.

My head swung in all directions. He was gone.

Sweat dripped into my eyes. I slowed and brushed it away, panting, chest heaving. My feet stopped, and I leaned over, catching my breath. The hot air was silent except for the rustling of leaves on the breeze.

I closed my eyes.

A rush of wind picked up my hair. The crunch of a leaf right behind me.

Before I could react, I was shoved hard onto the floor, the breath knocked from my lungs. The heavy weight of a body slammed onto my ass. One large hand pushed down on my back, his other gripping my arm.

My yelp of shock became a wail of pain as he wrenched my arm back.

"Be quiet," he snapped.

I closed my mouth. Soft whimpers murmured from the back of my throat. My arm twinged.

He was strong. His grasp felt like a vise, his hold steady. I was certain I couldn't break free. It didn't matter. I was too terrified to try.

His hand on my back started rubbing circles, lower and lower. "You come here every weekend. You're always alone." Casual, confident words. "You walk the entire length of the beach, stopping at the tide pools, sitting on rocks or driftwood. Three hours is the shortest time you've spent here."

I'd never seen him before. How had he been watching me so closely?

His palm pressed into my lower back, almost massaging me. "So no one expects you for at least two hours. Probably longer." He leaned down, the weight of him shifting, the warmth of him meeting my back. My arm fell woodenly, released.

"I wonder how long," he whispered.

I flinched. My entire body trembled. No doubt he could feel my quivering muscles.

Soft laughter disturbed my hair. He brushed the strands aside, revealing my neck for his lips, pressed tenderly against my sweating skin. I felt his tongue drag a hot path right on my spine. Involuntary tensing arched my shoulders.

He licked me again. My breathing grew labored, my throat tight. Shivers ran down my back but not entirely from fear. Tingling, almost ticklish sensations fluttered from his wet tongue to my tailbone, blooming as heat low in my stomach, coiling to a tight knot between my legs. My fists curled.

With a contented sigh, he leaned back again, the flat of his palms dragging along my sides, my waist, my hips. His motions drew my attention to the hard bulge pressing into my ass. Cold sweat broke on my spine. Fear came crashing back.

"Shh," he cooed. I hadn't even noticed my own whimper. "You're alright. Everything's alright." Keeping one hand splayed on my lower back, I felt him shift. His hand appeared in the corner of my wild, wide eyes. My bag. He lifted it away.

"Let's see here... ah. April Marianne Strauss. Oh, your birthday was last month. Happy belated birthday, April."

He was rifling through my bag. My keys jingled. Old receipts rustled. A zipper clicked.

I lay there quiet and still, somewhat like a rabbit hoping not to be noticed. Too late, but maybe he wouldn't bite if I didn't move.

"I believe the polite response is, 'thank you'." He sounded just a touch reproachful.

My throat bobbed. "Th-thank you." The barest whisper escaped my lips.

"You're very welcome, April." The smile in his voice sent a wave of relief through my chest.

Then hot shame and anger followed. But I still didn't fight. Tears pricked my eyes. I swallowed my pride and focused on getting through this.

"Hmm. Let's go for a walk."

His weight eased. He was standing, pulling me up with him. My legs were like jelly as he helped me to my feet.

I glanced around quickly. I still didn't know where I was. Was that the sound of cars in the distance or the roaring waves of the ocean? My ears were both too sensitive and too muffled.

"Raise your arms, my dear. Slowly now. Play nice and I'll be gentle, I promise." His fingers were light on my ribs. I raised my shaky arms into the air.

He lifted my dress. The warm breeze caressed my skin. As the cloth gathered at my waist, I breathed in deeply.

And ran.

Screaming, launching myself forward, dirt flying, trees rushing by. I got away. A few steps. A few more.

He had my keys. I didn't know where I was. All I could think about was running, running—

My face and chest slammed into a tree. Firm hands pressed against my shoulder and back. His entire body made me hug the rough bark.

"We're doing this the hard way, then," he grumbled. His movements were swift, bunching up my dress, yanking down my panties. My wild flailing and shrieking protests changed nothing.

He kicked my legs apart. His hips shifted back for a moment, then warm, hard flesh throbbed between my bare thighs.

I screamed louder, twisting and kicking. He grabbed my hair, tilting my head back. "Stop screaming, or I'll fuck your ass. You asked for this. I told you I'd be gentle if you cooperated, but you want it rough, don't you? You want to kick and scream while I fuck you."

My breaths were little gasps for air as I shook my head. "Please, no, please. Please just let me go. Please!"

He pushed my head against the tree as his cock rubbed back and forth on my slit. Reaching his other hand around my waist, he flipped my dress aside and pressed his fingers to the top of my mound.

"You're not going anywhere until I'm done with you. April." He growled my name as he massaged my sensitive nub.

"No! Ah! Stop! Stop touching me! Let go! No!" My shoulders jerked, trying to shake him off. My pelvis twisted, trying to get away. The wall of muscle against my back was unyielding.

A huffed laugh puffed past my cheek. He turned his head, and I heard him lick his fingers. His saliva wetted my entrance. His cock began to press into me.

I yelped. "Ah! No, you're going to hurt me, please—oh, God, no! Ah!"

He was rubbing my clit again as he pushed deeper and deeper inside me. "Scream. Go on, I want to hear you scream."

I could barely catch my breath as he pushed relentlessly. He was stretching me, forcing my squirming body to accept his hard cock. My muscles were so tense. I couldn't have relaxed if I'd tried. He felt so big, my inner walls hugging his shaft reluctantly.

My throat was similarly constricted. Gasping cries cut short with every movement, every inch of his shaft penetrating me deeper. "Hngh... that... hurts... ahh... please... no..."

He pulled out until only the tip of his cock spread my sore pussy lips. "Just the way you like it. Isn't that why you ran from me? You wanted me to be angry."

"No, I-I'm sorry. Please, please let me go. I won't say anything—Ahh!"

His cock slammed all the way inside me, one burning thrust filling my tight tunnel. I screamed. My feet kicked at the sandy ground, lifting to my tiptoes in an attempt to unimpale myself. It seemed a better angle for him. He thrust in further.

Still rubbing my clit and holding my head against the tree, he began to fuck me. My dress caught on the bark with every thrust. The scratchy surface scraped my skin.

Hard and fast, he fucked me. The rest of my body felt useless as he plunged in and out of my pussy. I fought as best I could. Bucking and twisting my hips seemed to encourage him, his soft laughter brushing my neck. His fingers stimulating my clit made me wet. My inner walls lubricated for his passage.

His thrusts became smooth, so he thrust faster, pounding his pelvis against my ass. "Tight and wet," he grunted. "You're enjoying this, aren't you? I am. I knew your cute little body would feel great around my cock."

I was still struggling, making agitated noises as he forced himself inside me over and over again. But it was beginning to feel good. No one had ever fucked me like this. His thick cock rammed in and out of my slick tunnel mercilessly, constantly. That rapid pace never slowed. It was like my body was being hammered into the tree. I'd never felt so completely helpless.

"No, stop... no... I don't... ah..." I mumbled. I could feel my slick juices all over his cock, my pussy getting wetter with every thrust. My back twinged and twitched. I arched toward him, then immediately embarrassed, tried to pull away, rubbing against his fingers instead. Writhing, twisting, scrambling—I became a moaning, whimpering mess.

"Don't fight it, sweetie," he murmured. "It feels good. I know. I know how hard it is to let go. It's ok. It's ok..."

"Ah! No! No, get off of me! I don't want this, I don't want you, I don't... no! Ah! Ahh!" I yelled while my muscles tightened and the intense heat burned hotter inside me, stroke after stroke of his cock driving the mind-numbing sensations through my body. I wasn't just fighting him anymore. I was wailing against my own responses. The feeling of his shaft ravaging my unwilling flesh shouldn't be so good. I blamed his fingers that incessantly attacked my clit. It confused my senses, making my pussy clench around his pounding thrusts, making my body enjoy this terrible ravishment.

Making me cum while I yelled and protested every moment.

"No!"

I shrieked, knowing what that cresting, tingling heat meant. I couldn't stop it. My back arched, my thighs trembling as the pulsing pleasure seized my mind and body. The world narrowed to my muscles clenching his hard cock and the euphoria racing through my veins.

Faint laughter tickled my ear. "That's what I thought. Nice, tight, hot little pussy loves my cock. You can say no all you want, but your body knows what it wants. What you need."

Moaning and gasping, I wanted to deny all of it. He forced me to cum. He forced himself inside me. I didn't want any of this.

My copious juices ran down my thighs. I could protest all I wanted, the evidence was clear. Wet, sticky, and so much more than I could coax from myself. The breeze cooled my thighs like the air itself was reminding me of my shame.

"You know what's next, don't you?" His breathing was deeper, hot on my neck. "I'm going to fill your sweet little pussy, make you. drip with my cum for days. You'll never get me out of you."

My skin felt cold again despite the warm air and all our sweat. "No... please! You have to pull out, please!"

"Shh... oh, sweet April... it's ok..." He chuckled, his teeth grazing my shoulder.

"No! You don't—I'm not on birth control! Please, you've already... This is a really bad time!" I begged. My pussy was happy with his cock, I had to admit, but if he finished inside me, the chances of impregnating me were too high. That fear made me struggle all over again, my feet kicking up sand, my hands clawing at his thighs.

"Perfect."

A shiver ran down my spine. His thrusts became urgent. I screamed again. He grabbed my neck, his other arm around my hips, holding me tight as his cock slammed into me again and again. None of my wild struggling made him budge an inch. Every grunt was a threat, every stroke inside me deeper than the last.

"Please—!"

"No," he growled, stabbing the full length of himself into my tight tunnel. I felt his cock swell. Terror shot lightning to my clit. My traitorous inner muscles gripped his twitching shaft as warm fluid sprayed my insides. He had complete control over me in the moments of his release, pumping my vulnerable pussy full of millions of his eager sperm. His hips jerked again and again as he groaned. Deep, satisfied breaths ruffled my hair.

More fluids leaked out of me. I twisted occasionally, testing his grip. His strength hadn't wavered for a second.

With a few more thrusts, he sighed and pulled out of me. A trickle of cum watered the sand at our feet. "That was wonderful, my dear. But don't run next time, and I'll make it much better."

Next time? I was never coming back here again. I never wanted to see him again. When he let me go—

He wasn't letting me go.

The realization froze my muscles and mind.

He shifted behind me, his hands releasing me, but I couldn't move. I just stood there with my ass curved back, my legs spread wide, my arms mindlessly catching myself on the tree.

When he touched me again, I flinched. His warm hands were beneath my dress, sliding it up and over my head, straightening my back as he tangled the cloth around my head. Panicking for a moment, thinking he was going to suffocate or strangle me, I struggled and whimpered.

"Shh, it's ok, April. You're ok," he murmured soothingly as he used the dress to tie my wrists and cover my eyes. "It's not the best blindfold, but it'll do. Now, let's go for a nice, calm walk, sweetie."

He nudged me. My feet moved.

I don't know how far we walked. The ground began to feel different. A twig cracked beneath my feet. Leaves or grass brushed my ankles.

He murmured soothingly now and then—how lovely I was, how long he'd been watching me, how he was so glad he finally caught me. I should have been more concerned, but his tone was comforting, and I was focused on the wetness dripping down my legs.

He came inside me. I could be pregnant. He was going to fuck me again. Why did that thought make my pussy twitch?

We stopped eventually. There seemed to be rocks beneath my feet—gravel, maybe.

"April, my dear, welcome home."

The dress fell away. I blinked.

A little cabin sat at the end of a short gravel path. Tall, dense trees surrounded us. The ground was grass and ferns—not a trace of sand in sight. My legs were tired.

Home. I choked back a scream.