Too much, no, on the contrary. I want you to want me. And if you want us to meet and experience all you ever dreamt about, and more, I will be there. Where do you live?
sweetprey:
Wait … This is just our … Don't know … maybe fifth conversation? Don't you think this is a bit fast?
hunterskill:
Ah, my sweet little prey needs some more hunting. Relax. I don't mean tomorrow. Let's get to know each other better. Don't worry about it, I am just saying that if that is what you want, that is what will happen. You tell me what you are comfortable with, and we take it from there. Okay?
sweetprey:
Okay … And I guess meeting up isn't actually an idea I am comfortable with right now … But else, I really enjoy our conversations.
hunterskill:
Yes, me too. It is a shame that I have to break this one off now though. There is still a lot of work to be done. Will you be here tomorrow?
sweetprey:
I am pretty sure I will be … Wouldn't want to miss speaking to you.
hunterskill:
Nor would I - you are a very special woman and I enjoy every minute we spend together … and will spend together. We can share our dreams … and make them come true. All right, the phone is ringing, that will be work … so I really have to run now … dream of me, as will I.
sweetprey:
Bye …
hunterskill:
Bye, till tomorrow …
***
8.Jan.2007
hunterskill:
Hi my sweet prey. Did you have a nice day?
sweetprey:
Hi … Not so bad … And yourself?
hunterskill:
I can't complain, as I was thinking about you a lot. I really enjoyed our conversation last night.
sweetprey:
Well, I did too … It's strange, I can't imagine ever telling these things any of my friends, but with you it's different …
hunterskill:
You are still holding back though. I can feel it. Or are you holding back in your fantasies even?
sweetprey:
I don't know … might be … Well, sometimes I just scare myself with thinking these things …
hunterskill:
Yes, but you like being scared, don't you … the element of fear … best aphrodisiac in the world …
sweetprey:
True.
sweetprey:
But it's sometimes difficult to find where one's own limits are, even in fantasies.
hunterskill:
Yes, we can explore those limits together. I want to know all about you.
sweetprey:
Hm … yes … But you have to help me, somehow …
sweetprey:
Couldn't you tell me some of your own fantasies?
hunterskill:
My fantasies … you want to know what I like?
sweetprey:
Yes.
hunterskill:
Oh, I could tell you a little story if you like … do you like the forest?
sweetprey:
Forest sounds interesting …
hunterskill:
Well, I am a very outdoorsy person. Ok sit back, relax, enjoy … you don't have to answer, let just me do the talking for once … ok?
sweetprey:
So does that mean I am talking too much? Hehe. But okay.
hunterskill:
Not too much, just enough to get me hot most of the time … but now it's my turn … let me do that for you … would you like that?
sweetprey:
Yes.
hunterskill:
I hear her calling her dog, but cannot see her from my vantage point yet. Nor can the dog for that matter, being knocked out by the meat with added tranquilliser I hid for it. Now she enters my field of vision, wearing a yellow skirt with red flowers, an almost matching top in the same colour and a jeans jacket for the chill. She looks confused, her calling for her dog becomes louder and has a hint of anxiety in it. She wears trainers, and I know she is a good runner, as she jogs with her dog in the evening after work. It is time to make my presence known. She approaches the underbrush and I make sure that there are enough noises from broken twigs and boughs to get her hopes up and crush them with my sight. She freezes on the spot when she sees me. I can see that she is torn by her desire to enquire about her dog and the sense of clear and immanent danger. I am but two metres away, when she opens her mouth to speak.
hunterskill:
She manages to utter "pardon me" with a beautiful undercurrent of terror in her voice, before I reach her and grab hold of her top and rip it asunder with one swift movement. She isn't wearing any bra, and her medium sized tits swing free in the crisp autumn's morning. Even more delightful is the look on her face - that wonderful mixture of disbelief, fear and panic. I give her a few seconds to recover and start running. She is fast, but makes the elementary mistake to look over her shoulder too often, but at least that gives me a few spectacular vistas of her bouncing tits. It is easy to keep up with her, I follow her so close that she can hear my breath. She doesn't even scream yet and trips over a large root. She falls onto her face and I leisurely descend on her, pinning her down with my body weight before she can resume her flight. She squirms and desperately tries to get enough leverage with her arms to bounce me off and now she starts crying as she notices that this won't work. She bucks her arse a couple of times into my groin, presumably to hurt me, but all it does is turn me on and I am glad she can feel my hard on when I press her down even more.
hunterskill:
She has beautiful long red hair, albeit henna red and after stroking it a bit I decide to cut off a few strands later for my collection. She smells really nice, of shower gel, sweat, fear and the first imprint of the dewy morning earth. She struggles when I tear her out of her jeans jacket and remove what is left of her top. She tries to kick me, but doesn't get enough momentum in this position to hurt me. Her body is hot and sweaty. She starts yelling for help, interspersed with "please … please … don't do this … please … let me go … " I decide that she needs more exercise and shift my body, so that I come to sit on her legs, quickly ripping her skirt to shreds and holding her panties at their elastic. I will let her get away now, but will take that memento for keeping when she exploits the freedom of movement to try and get away.
hunterskill:
I give her about twenty metres to enjoy the sight of her naked body disappearing in the brushwood, and leisurely put the ripped panties in my jacket before running after her. She has stopped yelling now; maybe she knows that it is useless at this time of the morning, or she hopes to get enough distance between us to be able to hide somewhere. I catch up quickly, but follow her for a while to see twigs, thorns and the occasional contact with bark punish her naked body. She stops, and tries to figure out where we she is, as her customary route does not lead her into this part of the forest, panting heavily and still whimpering to herself. She turns her head and sees me, but it is too late for her to react. I tackle her and we both topple over. She crashes hard on a large dry bough, which cracks under our bodyweight and digs painfully into her backside. She screams, her face is distorted with pain and exhaustion, her cheeks wonderfully blushed, tears stream down her face. I grab her hair, get up and drag her after me. It takes her a while to get up to her feet, so she has to endure quite a bit of pain. Her hands clutch my arm in the futile attempt to loosen my grip of her, or maybe just to reduce the pull on her hair.
hunterskill:
There is a large tree here, which is perfect for our purposes, so we are heading there. The trunk is wide and will do nicely to tie her up. Even sweeter than the birds' songs earlier are her high pitched shrieks, her sobs and protestations as I yank her to the tree. It is time to add a little emphasis on her inferior position, so I draw my bowie knife out of its sheath and quietly inflict a superficial cut to her right arm, then let her hair go. She loses her balance, falls right into me, screaming from the pain. Her eyes are widened with fear now, but not fear of pain, this is the fear for her life; a good hunter can distinguish the scents. The pain and the sight of the knife seems to have broken her resistance for now; she freezes as I slowly bring it up to her neck, caressing her with the cold razor-sharp blade.
hunterskill:
I know she wants to say something along the lines of "please don't kill me" but apparently her voice fails her, so I start talking instead, ordering her politely to get up, lean against the tree trunk and move her arms together and above her head. She does what she is told, shivering and shaking in the first rays of the morning sun over the horizon. Blood drips down her arm, and she has several rips and tears from the chase all over her body. She is beautiful. I savour her scent whilst pressing her against the tree with my body and first tying up her wrists with a smaller piece of rope. I attach the longer one to this and manage to reach around the trunk, starting to tie her to the tree. I do my trademark three point fixture, one around her elevated wrists, one around her neck, so tight that she would actually strangle herself if she dared to move and third just below her beautiful titties, even propping them up a bit. I am pleased with the knots and tension of the rope, she even gargles a bit and struggles for breath, leaving her cheeks even redder than they were before.
hunterskill:
It is time to appreciate my prey, so I plant a kiss on her heated forehead, eagerly licking a drop of blood trickling down from her arm mingling with the salt of her sweat. It is a wonderful taste, it tastes of more. Her nipples are hard, either it's the cold or her body betrays her already. She is a little quiet, which might have to do with the fact that breathing is difficult for her now, and I breathe heavily into her ear as recompense. My hands knead her tits softly at first, then a bit rougher, making her knowledgeable of the fine line between pleasurable and painful. She gasps a bit, and whimpers incoherent stuff, which doesn't really interest me at this point, as I am sinking down to my knees to explore what will be the main source of my pleasure for the next hour or so. Her pussy is shaven apart from a small landing strip and her original hair colour appears to be dark blonde.
