Becca looked every inch a sophisticated socialite that night, but privately she was sizing up everyone in the room like a huntress. As she sipped a glass of champagne she studied Ben and Cedric, the co-owners of this operation. She fingered her glass with a neatly trimmed nail. One could picture the two of them as the businessmen one encountered every day, albeit extremely fit and attractive ones. Ben noticed her glance and flashed her that all-American smile. He put a hand on Cedric's arm, his tanned skin contrasting with the ebony of his business partner's. Cedric glided over to her like a statue come to life.
"Rebecca, are you enjoying yourself?" he asked, genuinely concerned at her solitary stance by the bar.
She gave him a confident smile, nodding and running a hand through her hair. "Very much, Cedric. These past two nights have been straight out of a movie."
He tapped glass against hers. "Whatever hospitality Ben and I can offer is not enough for a beautiful woman like you." After a few minutes of conversation he disengaged himself and began chatting with the four other women, all of whom were dressed to the nines and laughing somewhat tipsily.
Becca kept to mostly herself that night, aware of what a charade the party was. The ten wealthy men around her, all clad in fitted tuxes, were really here to indulge their darker instincts. They were investors, executives, and military men, all carefully pre-screened for physical prowess and discretion. Her mind took her back to the offer she had received four months ago: $500,000 to be flown to this tropical paradise, wined and dined, and on the third day pursued like a hunted animal until she either eluded capture or was fucked to their satisfaction. Becca shook her head absently, aware as always what an interesting social circle she had to have come into such a scenario.
There was something about it that intrigued her beyond the money, something more visceral. As Leila, the event coordinator, approached her she realized that she would be here regardless of the pay.
Becca was intrigued by the older woman, whose pale blue eyes captivated everyone they caught. She recognized that this woman was more similar to herself than any of the other individuals on the island. Still, the two of them had exchanged more glances than words in the days since they met at the airstrip. Becca made up her mind to ask the question that had been in her mind since arriving.
"Leila, tell me something," she asked as coyly as she could. Leila placed a hand on the younger woman's arm and nodded.
"Ask anything you want," she offered.
"Why drove you to get involved with this?"
Leila didn't bat an eyelash. "The intensity. There's nothing like it in the world. Just wait until you see for yourself."
***
A soft hand on her shoulder drew Becca from her sleep moments after dawn. She opened her eyes and met those of Leila. Those pale blue eyes were locked on hers, the growing sunlight highlighting her long, graying hair. Becca felt herself tense up, her stomach suddenly a ball of lead within her abdomen. All those months of worry, excitement, and planning came down to this day.
"Showtime," declared the older woman, the faintest hint of a smile playing about the corners of her lips. "We'll meet on the patio in one hour. Wear the outfit in the bathroom." With her brief instructions delivered she was gone, the bedroom door clicking shut behind her.
Becca had rehearsed this hour many times in her mind and went through it on autopilot. She ate two of the energy bars in her pack, drank a protein shake, washed her face, and inspected the outfit laid out for her: tiny khaki shorts, a black stretch tank top with a built-in sports bra, black cotton panties, thick black socks, and leather boots. All the while, all she could think was, "What if they catch me? What if I'm getting fucked within the next few hours?" She paused before putting on the panties, running a fingertip gently over her inner thighs and grazing her lower lips. They were moist. She echoed Leila's near-smile as she finished dressing. For the remainder of the hour she took out her map of the island and studied it carefully. She held it as steadily as she could in her shaking hands as the daylight bloomed behind the silk curtains.
She felt strong, capable, and prepared. No man would get at her body without a fight this day. And if they fought hard enough...
***
The four other women looked decidedly less sure of themselves than Becca did as they gathered on the ornate patio of the mansion. Becca mused that she hadn't bothered to learn anything about her compatriots, not even their names. The five were dressed similarly in clothes that were sufficiently utilitarian for the woods but otherwise fairly revealing.
Leila stepped through the French doors carrying a stopwatch in her hand. Through the glass the women could catch glimpses of male faces, several made up with camouflage paint and anti-reflective black under the eyes. Muscular arms and chests were bared. Becca thought she caught a glimpse of a rope in one man's hand. They paced like wild animals waiting to be set free.
