The Pleasure of the Hunt

Part 6

She awoke to a loud thumping that grew louder every moment. Pain was everywhere, even in the noise. Opening her eyes was painful, but she felt she must.

She was lying on her back. A helicopter was descending, it's blades stirring up a vast cloud of dirt, grass, leaves and other debris, nature's litter in wild and open land. She thought it would land on top of her and maybe put her out of her misery, but it came to rest a dozen feet away.

She tried to move but bolts of savage pain took her breath away. White hot fire burned in her belly and between her legs. Red hot coals smoldered in her right breast and arm. She wept in agony.

Her hands were now in front of her. She raised them to examine her latest restraint. But she could only lift with her left arm. The right arm was dead weight, a useless mass of fiery pain. The watch was gone and her wrists were tightly bound in cord. She raised her legs and saw that her ankles were also bound together.

The hunter was talking to two men in the helicopter. After a few moments, the men, wearing the uniforms of the National Meat Service, hopped to the ground carrying a pole. They approached Amelia, one at her feet, the other at her head. Without a word they picked up her arms and legs and threaded the pole under the bindings on her wrists and ankles, then lifted the pole to their shoulders and carried her, like a slain deer, to the helicopter. They dropped her pole into one of four pairs of brackets outside the body of the craft and locked it down. The two NMS men and the hunter then climbed into the cabin of the helicopter and the engine began to rev up. Amelia saw the ground receding beneath her as the machine roared skyward. But the pain from her ankle and sex was so great she cared nothing about the fact that she was swinging wildly in mid-air hundreds of feet above the forest.

She had closed her eyes to deal with the excruciating pain and was only aware that the craft was landing by the rough bump that sent a new wave of agony through her body. She recognized where they were at once. It was the large expanse of meadow where she had worried she might be caught exposed. How foolish in retrospect! The bastards knew where she was every moment anyway. It was only a matter of time before they caught her. And they had done so twice! This was the place her first captor — Taylor was it? — had planned to bring her to share with his buddies. All she had done was to delay the inevitable.

The two NMS men took her off the helicopter rack and carried her to a place in the meadow where three other girls were spreadeagled on the ground. She noted that Shala was not among the other captives. The men dropped Amelia on her back, removed the pole, cut her bindings and splayed her out like the others, stretched into an X in the grass, her wrists and ankles lashed to stakes.

The hunter who had captured her swaggered over.

"This is the bitch who killed Taylor," he announced. "She's got a dart up her twat. I'd better fish it out before anyone fucks her."

She saw him pour some oil on his right hand, then felt him insert the tips of his fingers between her labia. They forced their way into her, deeper, twisting, spreading her impossibly wide. She felt the knobs of his knuckles grating against her tender inner flesh, then the entire hand brutally pushing inward, the new pain multiplying the raging pain that already engulfed the far end of the invasion route. She heard herself screaming again, her body writhing madly in its bonds. Then suddenly the hand was gone. She saw the hunter stand up, a bloodied dart dangling between his thumb and index finger.

"She's all yours, boys. You won't have to worry about ramming your schlong into this baby. But watch out for that plug in her ass. I can't pull that one out because it'll rip her up pretty good. You don't wanna be fucking her in a puddle of blood. Besides, if she bleeds to death here, them NMS boys will probably bitch that her meat ain't as fresh as it should be when they collect it tonight." Everyone laughed.

Everyone except Amelia and the other three girls spreadeagled in the grass.

Ring gags were produced from the helicopter and strapped into each girl's mouth to make it available for safe penetration. The two helicopter pilots climbed back in their machine and took off to retrieve the surviving two girls, leaving the three hunters to spend the next hour and a half making brutal use of the four available mouths and cunts of their quarry. Two of the girls got flipped over so the men could make use of their ass as well.

The three hunters reserved special cruelties for Amelia because she had been involved in the death of one of their number. Every one of them took time to whip her breasts and sensitive inner thighs with the whip stick before jamming their hardened cocks into her cunt, or flooding her throat with cum. They pinched and pulled her nipples and clit so severely that her vocal cords were torn from screaming, reducing her noise to a whisper. Her captor would have liked to see her suffer more, perhaps flogged with a serious whip, but her sale value would drop significantly if her meat were bruised. It wasn't worth the added satisfaction. Being able to rape and torture four lovely young women after an invigorating hunt was satisfaction enough.

Although it was titillating for the hunters to think of this activity as rape, technically it was not. By law, those captured in an authorized Hunt became the property of their captors with the legal status of animal livestock. As mere property with no rights whatsoever, captured female quarry could expect their last hours to be grueling at best, agony at worst, until it all ended at the closing ceremony. When the festivities were over, their carcasses would be purchased by the National Meat Service.

Amelia's captor did manage to inflict on Amelia one further painful degradation. Having exhausted his potential for additional erections after jetting one last load into another of the other three females, a sobbing brunette, he cut down a thick sapling at the edge of the meadow, hacked a ten inch section from it and carved a series of wing flanges, just like the one still locked in Amelia's rectum. When he had ascertained that his fellow hunters were finished using her, he showed Amelia what he had wrought, then introduced its jagged top end into her vagina, reddened and sore from hard servicing. As she whimpered in horrified expectation, he used the heel of his hand to ram the devilish piece of wood all the way in as semen from all three of her abusers bubbled out around it. The wretched girl issued an eerie whistling scream, blood spraying from her torn vocal cords. The hunter tugged on the end of the dowel to make sure the sharp flanges would hold it in. They did.

The helicopter returned ninety minutes after its departure, right on schedule. The four weeping girls were slung from poles once again and lugged to the helicopter where the poles were mounted and locked down on the outside racks, two on a side. The three hunters and two pilots climbed inside the machine to enjoy a comfortable ride for the flight back to the lodge.

The pain from the darts had dissipated and vanished. But the pain from the two rough wooden dowels cruelly inserted into Amelia's cunt and ass was matched only by the pain from her broken ankle as the bindings and pole pulled and wrenched it constantly with the lurching of the helicopter. She swung wildly in the torturous draft of cold air from the rotors and the pitching of the aircraft in the wind. Shivering, in agony and utterly miserable, she no longer feared death as the machine clawed its way through the sky, praying only that her torment would end soon.