The Cunt Hunt Ch 02

Running in as a group, the herd soon left our trainers behind and slowed to a walk. Around me women panted for breath as they recovered from the unexpected exertion.

"What was that about," Stacey exclaimed.

"Keep your voice down." A statuesque Zebra, Jenny, one of the most experienced in the group, turned to the herd, and addressed the newcomers. "There's always an attempt to form the herd at the start of the hunt."

"What do you mean?" asked a diminutive Zebra, Emily, another of the newcomers.

"The hunt has rules designed to make it a challenge. If it was just a whole lot of women running all over the place, then it would have no challenge."

"Doesn't sticking together just make it easier for them to find us?"

"They will find us anyway." Jenny held up her cuff with its green lights. "This is where the protection is."

Holly cut in. "If you get separated from the herd, the colour changes."

The new girls and myself looked on silently.

"And the zebras at the back of the herd also turn red."

"Well, I'm not staying at the back," Stacey said and she pushed herself to the front, turning a couple of zebras red as she pushed past them.

Jenny faced Stacey down. "Everyone takes their turn at the back."

"Not likely!"

"The herd is the only place you are safe, if you don't play by our rules, you don't get our protection."

Stacey bristled for a moment pulling herself up to her full height. Jenny stood her ground unflinching.

The newer girl then breathed out her shoulders slumping. "How can we trust you."

"You can't, if we get pursued then it's every zebra for herself, that's the rules. At least in the herd, you have a chance."

The women stared each other down.

Stacey placed her hands on her hips. "Well, they won't take me without a fight."

"Good, that's what they want. There's a reward for the best catch so make them work for it."

"Come on, we need to keep moving." She fixed Stacey with a final stare before she turned away. "Remember, everyone takes a turn at the back."

We kept moving around the area, one of the more experienced zebras leading, keeping the herd away from the stands of trees the whole time. The pace slowed to a crawl, and with the sun warming our bodies and the feel of the soft grass between our feet, many of the girls relaxed considerably - some even taking time to have quiet conversations.

This lasted perhaps half an hour after which another group of men crested a hill a short distance away. Trainers and two men wearing running clothes and, more significantly, shoes. They observed the herd through binoculars.

"What are they doing?" I whispered to Holly.

"Choosing."

"Choosing what?"

"Us. Remember the forms you filled in. They know what each of us will allow. They're choosing their prey."

My skin ran cold, I had never experienced being hunted before. I shivered.

"Don't worry. Stick with the herd. The first hunts are usually after the more experienced girls."

I relaxed slightly then glanced at Holly's clenched jaw. She was more at risk than me.

We walked past the men, leaving them behind us. Silently, the disappeared over the hill soon after followed by the sound of a jeep. Within a minute, they crested a hill to the left and slightly ahead of us. Jenny, who was leading the herd, altered course away from the group.

Without warning the group of men started running down the hill, gradually picking up the pace as they ran in silence towards us. The herd surged into a run, some of the newer girls scattering in different directions squealing. One of the men peeled off and pursued one of the girls that had separated, two trainers following close behind. The other man followed by the rest of the trainers bore down on the main herd, arms pumping as they sprinted.

Panic welled up inside and my heart raced. It took all my willpower to stay with the group as the instinct to flee threatened to overwhelm me. He strategy was simple, he was fresh and we had already been chased earlier and weren't follow recovered. Also, as we fled running in the opposite direction, we were headed straight towards a stand of trees. The majority of the herd broke left but Holly, myself and two others broke right. Out of the corner of my eye, green flashes turned to red. My stomach leapt into my throat.

The small group reduced further when, Emily, broke right away from the trees and into the clear. Just three of us remained, Holly running out front and two of us new zebras following in behind. My lungs burned and my legs ached as my body protested at the sustained exertion. Just at the point of exhaustion, the relentless thud of heavy footfalls and the rasp of heavy breathing re-energized me. With the extra spurt of speed, I gained on Holly and to avoid her rapid pumping arms and legs, I veered right. The sounds followed. I was prey, separated from the herd with a predator at my back. Every sense was alive as I forced myself beyond.

I hand brushed my arm, then grabbed. Twisting my body and with a rapid jerk, I pulled myself free. The end was near. I swung my head, left and right searching for an escape. To the right was open empty space and certain capture. To the left, Holly and the other new girl ran parallel to the line of trees.

Only one option remained, I broke hard to the left. At the moment of the turn, two arms and a hard chest collided crashed into my back. put off by the sudden change in direction. I stumbled and pitched forward, running frantically to maintain my balance. Upright was freedom, if I fell, it was all over. My breaths were nothing but harsh gasps through a dry throat, arms and legs made of lead. My body screamed enough but determination strong. With a final drive, I ran, re-joining the group of two zebras passing behind the trailing newcomer and around the far side. The relentless pounding of feet turned into a grunt, a shriek and the slap of skin on skin. I ran clear and the sounds and sense of pursuit ceased only to be replaced by shrieking and struggle.

After a few dozen more strides, I risked a look around. There were no pursuers. Behind, the screaming zebra struggled with the hunter. Brought to the ground, she pushed up off the ground only to be brought down again as the hunter grabbed her leg. Then he leapt was on her. She twisted and kicked with her legs as she struggled for her freedom. She was finished, the trainers had caught up and waited near the hunter. With one knee on her back, he pinned her to the ground and grabbed her hands pinned them together.

"Tie them off." his voice carried clearly.

One of the trainers moved forward and expertly looped the rope around her wrists trapping her hands together in front of her. After a few seconds the top was tied off, the trainer holding the free end. Even if she managed to rise there was no escape. She continued to struggle and sweat poured off the hunter as he fought to get her under control. He was beginning tire as well and I wondered if I was going to observe a stalemate.

The trainer holding the rope brought an end to it. "Roll her onto the rope, Sir."

The hunter grabbed, his prize, pushed her hands against her stomach and rolled her over. Face down, she bucked and twisted but that simply created an opening for the trainer to slip the end of the rope under her body and pull it tight, trapping her arms against her stomach.

The hunter stood up panting furiously. He glanced at our direction then refocused on his prize. He lined up then leapt at her, grabbing her legs and pinning them together as a trainer quickly slipped a noose over her ankles. With a quick movement, he slipped the end of the rope under the rope around her waist and pulled her feet against her ass. Her only resistance was her shrieking.

As a final indignity, he handed a red ball-gag to the hunter who pressed it against her mouth. She pressed her lips tight. He held the ball-gag in place with one hand as he pinched her nose with the other finally forcing it in as she gasped for breath. Once tied off he stood up, admired his prize and kneeled next to her running his fingers along her body, exploring.

"Time for a photo, Sir." One of the trainers pulled out a large professional camera and lined it up. The hunter posed, firstly kneeling behind her then lifting her by the shoulders and presenting her gagged face to the camera. Finally, he rolled her on her side as the trainer took yet more photos.

Satisfied, the trainers took over unhooking her the rope that pulled her legs back, allowing her legs to straighten. A final rope was looped between her bound ankles and wrists, and once completed, her wrists were released from her belly and the loop pulled tight bringing her bound ankles to her wrists. While this was going on, trainer brought up a pole that they threaded in between her ankles and wrist. A trainer took up position at each end of the pole and lifted her. Unsupported, her head hung down and for a moment, we locked eyes.

My heart hammered away and my hands shook reflecting the kaleidoscope of emotion surged through me. Horror of watching her get thrust up like an animal knowing that had I not been quicker, it would have been me, tied, trussed and gagged hanging from a pole. Guilt from that final look knowing that I had sacrificed her to save myself. Exhaustion from the tremendous exertion and the fear from the chase itself. Then the final emotion that came from nowhere and took me by surprise. Elation, pure elation at the thrill of the chase and evading capture. Elation, relief, guilt, horror, raced around inside like a tornado. In that one moment I understood Holly's addiction to the hunt. I was light headed and euphoric, more alive than I could ever remember.

"It was a good catch," said a calm Holly.

I stared, rooted to the spot as the naked bound body swung beneath the pole. The caught girl heading off to whatever fate her hunter had lined up for her. "Oh?"

"She didn't bail out. She fought hard and she never used the safe word. She should be proud."

"Oh." Surprised as I was, Holly made sense.

"I hope you fight like that when you're caught." She slapped me on the shoulder and jogged towards the distant herd.

Trepidation crashed on top of the emotional turmoil racing round inside. With a final glance at the diminishing figures, I jogged after Holly, back to the safety of the herd.

When we returned, we found the members of the herd observing a different spectacle, a zebra wrapped in a blanket walking off between two khaki clad women.

"She quit out?" Holly asked, her disgust evident.

"Yep," Jenny replied. "lasted about a minute, then quit out. They've just finished up with the aftercare."

"Phffft! What a waste," Holly replied.

Jenny turned to Holly. "What about you. You've lost a zebra?"

"Caught. Put up a great fight. Got carried off, bound, gagged and slung under a pole."

"A new girl too?" Jenny's eyebrows shot up. "Impressive."

A couple of the returning zebras nodded their appreciation. For the rest of us, the newcomers, the message wasn't lost. There was no respect in quitting.

Led by the experienced zebras, the herd wandered away from the stand of tree and closer to the hill, before it slowed and zebras started to sit on the grass. Some of the girls quietly talked between themselves, some stared around, nervous and alert, and some, particularly the more experienced girls, lay back and rested. I sat near Holly who lay out on her back ankles crossed and arms out. One by one the talking girls feel quiet. Across the hill, almost at the edge of hearing, drifted the quiet moans of a young woman in the throes of passion. All of us strained to hear and, over time, the moans became louder and louder until her grunt and moans were clear.

Stacey sniggered. "What a slut," she said.

Jenny and Holly flashed a look at each other, their faces hardening as if an unspoken message had passed between them.

We rested as the moans rose and fell in volume, stopped, restarted, changed to rapid grunts then back to into moans.

"Holly, what is happening?" I whispered.

"His prize is getting fucked," she said. "Enjoy it."

"Enjoy it?"

"Sure. While she's getting fucked, we aren't getting chased." she tipped onto her side. "Also, the first captures get most heavily gang fucked." She lay back down on her back. "Rest, Michelle, I reckon they aren't even half done yet."

I sat in silence, aware how close that had been to me. The stakes in the game had just increased. Don't get caught early.

Eventually the moans reached a crescendo then fell silent. At that point, Jenny and Holly stood. We were back in the game and within a few minutes, and group of men reappeared on the line of hills, binoculars out. This time a chill ran up my spine. I became convinced the binoculars spent most of their time focused in my direction.

I moved up alongside Holly. "They're looking at me," I whispered.

"Whatever you did to avoid capture, it must have impressed." She gave a short laugh. "Welcome to the game, Michelle."

The warm glow of pride surged through me. I was desirable. Then the pride was replaced by fear, if I was desirable, then I could be next.