9Maddie's route has her arriving from the opposite direction along Main Street.
He looks down, pretending something's on his phone as her car turns across traffic into side street and again into the driveway.
She reappears trudging across the dead leaves and dying grass of the lawn
She has one suitcase with her.
She unlocks the front door and blocks it open with the suitcase. She trudges back across the lawn.
He takes his chance---
He grabs what he needs from the backpack---
He throws the pack behind the arbor vitae---
Someone grew it to give the house *cover* from main street traffic.
Cover covers in both directions.
He places something in the path she had previously taken and hides in the concealed space between the plants and the house.
She's returning---
He can hear her cursing "fucking this" "bullshit that " "God damn Affirmative Action crap"
He puts cursing on the list of things to break away from her.
She seems to stumble. Dropping suitcases---
Dropping towards one knee---
Old volleyball reflexes betray her.
Her eyes focus up. Her arms extend to keep a ball in play.
She doesn't see him.
He's charging from her blind side. He played football.
Pop Warner, NFL flag. Summer rec league. Middle School,
Junior Varsity---Varsity.
He is always a starter, never a scrub.
JV and Varsity he is a DB. He knows what to do.
He hits her high, slightly across her body avoiding head to head collision.
He's been drilled to prevent a catch being completed all the way to the ground, or to cause a fumble by a runner. Hais arms have the correct reflex---
Wrapping her up at the shoulders, his arms slide, each on the outside of one of her arms---
down towards her hands.
At the elbows, his elbows pin her's to her sides.
His hands shifting to enslaving reflexes learned in PE grab her wrists.
Her face is firmly planted in the dead leaves and dying grass of her childhood home's side yard.
Shocking vicious hit! ---Focus scrambled! ---No instinctive response!
Maddie starts to get it back together:
Press down with hands and knees--- bow back--- Rise up---
Twist and wriggle--- Avoid the pin--- Break the mount---
Too late! She has no hands. They're his!
He forces them behind her back. He cuffs them together.
She can still wriggle and squirm and scream---
His hands are in her thick red hair.
Her head is yanked back. She starts to scream. A gag is shoved between her teeth.
It's nice of the government to keep giving him gags the Hunter thinks.
Usually only billionaires and big corporations get cool free stuff from governments.
Only half a scream escapes before she's silenced.
Maddie doesn't know what to think. Nothing's worked.
All her wrestling glory is meaningless. She's been successfully mounted!
She can't force him to dismount---Fuck!
She practiced so long, so hard, so very very hard.
The gag, is drugged.
He hobbles her ankles and folds the big girl up in a hogtie. Tag now stapled on the backside of her ear. She's a legal trophy.
Just in time. He's been seen---
A car swerves over honking. He gets off her, breathing hard, and points to the tag.
"God bless you son." It's the preacher driving home after Sunday services.
He approves: "You're doing the Lord's work."
"Thank you sir," replies the Hunter ever the opportunist.
"May I record your statement saying you saw the capture in plain view, while driving in traffic on Main Street?"
The preacher is glad to do so.
The former Madeline Macmillan is well known around here.
He'd love to introduce the Hunter and display his trophy to the faithful next Sunday.
He's got a sermon on pride, fall, and humbling the exalted in mind.
The Hunter can't be there but offers the next best thing.
The preacher is allowed to record a photo montage lightly narrated by the Hunter.
He reprises planning, stalking, trapping, and stapling.
He points to the simple brown poly cord trip hazard he placed, once he knew her path.
He points to the trophy's physical assets. She's obviously best used nourishing the next generation.
The montage concludes dramatically:
A picture of the Hunter with his foot on his trophy. Her face and childhood home are clearly visible.
The preacher focuses on how Cherry Blossom, so recently placed in her ordained station, humbly provided information aiding the return of another female to useful subservience.
The preacher blesses the Hunter again and drives on saying a prayer of thanks.
The Hunter needs to handle a lot of fussy, nitpicking details while preparing his fresh catch for transport.
He learns, during his gap year, hiking a good portion of the Appalachian trail, under the tutelage of more experienced hikers, followed the majority of the Pacific Crest trail alone, the journey is not enjoyable when routine tasks are left undone.
First he closes and relocks the front door she's opened.
He was raised right. He is respectful of other people's property.
Next he gets his chunky hogtied red head and all three suitcases loaded in the car.
He drives her car to the next side street where his car is parked and transfers the suitcases.
He faces a decision:
To break this one, the full trophy doe experience is needed.
Spread eagled face down on top of my car, wind blowing on its bare ass, is a given.
To hood or not to hood, that is the question:
Whether it is better in her mind that uncertainty takes hold---
or to know, to know beyond all doubt her body is on display.
Degraded along the same route she was once paraded.
It seems, he gives her ass a rub, there is no question.
The Affirmative Actioned coed is displayed bare faced and bare assed down main street, through the commercial district, past the high school--
The drugged gag works the Hunter's will.
Boundary of reality shattered, typical female self degrading thoughts are unchecked:
I'm so stupid. I really am a fat cow. I'm not really a champion wrestler. A first? A third? I'm still caught? I'm nothing much!
l thought that people liked me. What they really liked was seeing my body wrestling.
I'm a bad person. I deserve this. I got my roommate taken. It's my turn---
She's primed as he parks at the DNR.
The arousal and bonding drugs are fading quickly in the contrary ginger's system--- Enough remain.
He takes her down from the roof and puts on her feet.
He pulls her against his body's warmth. His pheromones, androstenes, from the glands in his armpits cement his presence as center of her emotional existence:
This man, This man is strong and clever, This man is more than me. His scent resonates on an instinctual level.
The Hunter has technology to exploit this. He'll use it on the next leg of the journey.
The DNR agent grew up here. He recognizes her immediately.
He eyes her up and down, taking in her half clothed body, lingering on her naked, damp, flame crotch---
"Carpet and drapes." We used to bet" "No one got her pants off." "Now it's settled."
He shakes his head "You took triple M: Mad Maddie Macmillan":
"I watched her wrestle her way to state" "When she got angry she didn't budge." "Only the very best could take her down"
"Be a shame if you bit off more than you can chew."
The Hunter is more than confident, he's a touch arrogant. He earned it honestly.
"I am the best." "It's not my first." "It's my third." "This season!"
The agent begins his job of processing the former hometown heroine into anonymous fuck meat:
