Part 10: Hunted
My daughter has excelled herself this time. We all have an hours head start, but then they will come after us. And according to them they’re not all we have to worry about. These woodlands and fields belong to them, and they have been liberally sprinkled with traps designed to make sure we don’t escape.
Emma, my glorious but sometimes rather foolish daughter, got to know them after our little escapade as ponygirls (And my boyfriend as a matching ponyboy, an act into which he was tricked, which should have given her some inkling that things might not go quite as she planned). And when a sort of cross-country hunt was suggested she jumped at the chance, never thinking that perhaps she would be taking part in a rather different manner than she had intended at the outset. A very different part indeed. But, as ever, I am getting ahead of myself.
It started out as a leisurely days sunbathing with my lovely boyfriend. A wonderful thing that always ends with sighs of orgasm and the sun on his back and muscular buttocks. And we were standing in a wonderfully passionate clinch when we heard them coming. The thunder of hooves across the turf. Seconds later we were surrounded by Steph, Leia, and their lesbian friends on horseback. Lassos were being whirled, whoops were being cried, and somewhere in amongst them I could see my daughter Emma, her red hair flying out from under her riding hat. Once we spotted her we knew something interesting was afoot and we were prepared to play along. So we ran.
They rode about us as if they were rounding up the cattle in some old-time western movie. Wherever I turned I was faced by a wall of equine muscle clamped between two muscular legs clad in skintight jodhpurs. I actually bounced off one, and thrust my hand out to ward off another, which was my big mistake. The looped end of a lasso dropped over my wrist and was jerked quickly tight. As I reached out to free myself the rider jerked away, pulling me off balance. As I threw out my other hand for balance another lasso made it it’s prisoner, and I knew I was lost.
Both horses pulled back keeping the ropes tight between them, dragging my arms out from my body and swiftly taking in all the slack to make sure I wasn’t able to pull any give in the nooses and get my hands free. I was theirs.
My boyfriend saw the way they took me so easily and thought he could be clever. He dodged and weaved between them, getting away with it better than me being a fitter figure of humanity, but soon he found himself backed up against a tree by three of them, two to his front, one to the rear. Thrusting his hands behind his back he tried to thwart them, as if he ever had a chance of that. His massively erect manhood gave away his feelings as they danced their horses around him, and he gave a frustrated howl when a soft white lasso dropped over his straining manhood and was pulled swiftly tight about the very base of his scrotum. When she pulled her horse back he had no choice but to follow, grabbing on the rope to keep it slack about his precious manhood..
“Hands behind your back” the girl to the rear cried, her horse brushing against his broad shoulders. He drew back his shoulders and placed his hands together in the small of his back “Hands out” she called “Wrists crossed”
Without a word he complied and felt a second noose slip around his wrists and pull tight. We were both theirs to do with as they pleased. But there was more to come. Much more.
We were herded back to where the rest of the group stood, me strung out between those two massive hunters, my boyfriend trotting along behind, his tormentress keeping the pace of her horse just quick enough to keep him on edge and to keep a tiny amount of tension in the rope about his balls. Enough to keep his mind focussed on the task in hand.
They had driven three tall poles into the ground, and it didn’t surprise me one bit when they dragged me between two of those poles and looped my ropes off at their tops, making me stand in a harsh human ‘Y’ shape, my wrists pulled higher than my shoulders to make sure I couldn’t get away. The ropes tight and unforgiving.
My boyfriend was pressed onto his knees, his arms flexing desperately as he tried to get his wrists free, but to no avail. The rope about his manhood was thrown down from the girl on horseback and swiftly run through a stake in the grass. In moments it was made fast, and my boyfriend could not stand beyond his knees. There was venom in his eyes as they moving giggling away from him, but the mighty erection he sported told what was really in his mind.
Emma swaggered over to me, long red hair now free from her hard hat, jodhpurs that could have been sprayed on clasping her magnificent legs in a way that brought gown men to their knees. Two carelessly opened buttons displayed a cleavage worthy of any adolescent fantasy and she deliberately rolled her hips as she walked, her playful smile telling that she thought she had won this round and was going to get all the points. Soon she would find out that thing do not always go as you want them to.
“Hi mum” she said cheekily “Having fun ?. How does it feel to be the sub for a change, eh ?. I never thought I get this little hunt organised, but I did. With the girls help, of course” she admitted, including them all with a wave of her riding whip. “Now we are all going to have some fun”
Still smiling, she strolled nonchalantly behind me, and with a twang my bikini top sprang away from my generous chest. I may not be as trim and pert as Emma, but for my years I can be mighty proud of the way my chest still stands out. At least two of the lesbian girls sat up in their saddles and took notice, especially as my wide spread arms displayed it to it’s best advantage.
“Might as well look the part” she said cheerily as she walked back in front of me, still all smiles “After all, it’s not every day you get the fresh outdoor air to your tits, do you ?.” Somewhere behind her I could detect a change in the atmosphere of the girls, but the main part of my attention was focussed on what Emma was saying.
“Quite simply” she said, gesturing to the woodlands and fields behind her “We are going to hunt you over those fields behind us. We intend to give you a good head start, and if you can get back to the farmhouse we will give you your clothes back and you get to go home. But if we can catch you, the girls are going to get to keep you for a couple of days as their playthings. And I understand they really do know how to play”
“Oh that we do” said Steph, and I suddenly realised that there was a solid group of the girls standing right behind Emma. Emma turned to face them, and suddenly there were arms everywhere. Emma was snatched off her feet my a mass of grasping hands and vanished into the heaving mass. There were yells of triumph and howls of despair from Emma as the group heaved and writhed. All I could see was backs and legs, of Emma there was no sign, until the pack unfolded and Emma was at their centre.
Only her bikini panties remained, her body now swathed in ropes that held her arms tight together behind her back thrusting her breasts up and out. A makeshift leash led from a rope bridle to the hand of what could only be described as her handler. Her mouth worked hard yet hopelessly against the wraps of rope tied into her mouth, and every so often she pulled desperately against the ropes. But she was just as helpless as we were, if anything, more so.
“Now” said Steph “What young Emma said was quite correct. We do intend to have us a little hunt. With all three of you in case you haven’t quite tumbled that fact yet Emma. We have the horses, the dogs, and we will indeed give you a good head start. But please don’t think you can run the whole course and get back to the farmhouse before we even start out. You see, we have taken the opportunity of lacing our grounds with a few little traps. Quite a few in fact.” She watched us carefully, and knew she had our full and undivided attention by now “Some very conventional and basic, some others rather more interesting, and there are a couple of areas you really do not want to find yourselves straying into”
Emma went absolutely mental as she heard this. Desperately pulling at her rough rope harness, heaving against the already tight ropes, and succeeding only to making them tighter and raising a laugh from the assembled girls. One of them ran a gentle hand over Emma’s hair, peering deep into her fear-filled eyes beneath her sweat plastered forehead and whispered something softly into her ear. Emma froze and her face slowly turned towards the girl. The lesbian smiled a heart melting smile, lent forwards again and ran the very tip of her tongue around the edge of Emma’s ear before moving away. There was a smile on her face, and she looked wistfully back at Emma’s wide open eyes and wickedly curvy figure, tossed her mass of dark curls and vanishing into the group. Whatever she had promised Emma if she was captured, I don’t think Emma liked the sound of it one bit.
With horses and whip wielding girls all around us we were driven into a cage. A large cage that must once have held livestock of some description, but today it held three near naked people within it’s confines. The ropes that held my wrists were thrown in after us, as was the one that held my boyfriends manhood. My hands free, I quickly set the others loose and told Emma that there were going to be words when we got home, whenever that might be.
Emma looked genuinely nervous as she glanced over her shoulder and watched that dark haired girl leaping up onto her horse. When their eyes met, the dark haired girl blew her a kiss, and Emma blushed all over, a delightful sight on a real pale fleshed redhead. Then it all began. The door banged open and the air behind us explode with whoops and cries, there were suddenly whips slashing across our buttocks, driving us out into the fields and towards the woods that might just offer us some cover. And which held who knew what terrors in store for us.
Emma was the first to go. She was running hard on the same line as me some 50 yards away to my left. Where my boyfriend had gone I didn’t know, but splitting up had seemed the best thing to do, and split up we had. Long hours playing energetic sports had given Emma a body to die for and a turn of speed I couldn’t hope to match , encumbered as I was with a desperately bouncing pair of breasts. As she pulled ahead of me I risked a glance at her muscular buttocks and pumping thighs at the very moment she vanished from view with a terrible shriek. For a moment I was torn between running on and trying to help her out, but the mother in me won and I dashed to the spot I had seen her last.
“Mum, help me, for gods sake help me”
I heard her cries before I could see her, and when I did, I knew there was nothing I could do for her. She was beyond my help. She had fallen into a carefully camouflaged pit with sheer walls and a terrible secret in it’s depths. Some six feet down from the rim and well out of my reach was a pit of soft black mud. Contrasting sharply with Emma’s pale skin, the level of the mud was already creeping inexorably up her thighs.
Emma reached her arms up towards me, her eyes crying out for a help I just couldn’t give her. For a moment she tried to jump up towards me, but she was only rewarded with a terrible sucking noise from the mud and she let out a tiny cry as the mud forced it’s was gently but oh so firmly up between her legs.
We were both near tears as I told Emma I had to leave her, that I couldn’t help her, and her plaintive cry of ‘Mum !’ as the cool black mud rolled over her slender hips and started it’s inexorable crawl up her ribcage made my flesh creep, but I had to go as I heard the sound of horses approaching. Whatever they had in mind for us, it looked like Emma was going to be taking part whether she liked it or not.
I never saw how they caught my boyfriend, but by the time I found him, he was already theirs. He was desperately rattling the thick bamboo bars of a cage that seemed to have dropped from a mighty oak. As I watched he threw himself against one side, and it gave a tantalising amount before snapping back together and keeping him prisoner. And once exhaustion set in there we no hope. I rushed over and did my best to help him, tugging at one of the wooden walls as he threw all his weight against it, but to no avail. With tears in both our eyes we clasped hands through the bars before I had to run on. Now hoping against hope that I might escape, but feeling less hopeful with every step.
I dashed into the open shade of the nearby woodland, reasoning that horses would not be able to move through it easily, and that none of the trees looked heavy enough to support the weight of a heavy cage like the one that had captured my boyfriend. I moved carefully, doing my best to keep as quiet as possible, peering through the foliage as I desperately tried to get a glimpse of the farmhouse. And everything was going just fine until I felt my bare left foot brush against a thread, and before I could do anything my world was turned upside down.
A supple sapling uncoiled from it’s bent-over and lovingly pegged state and a camouflaged net spread across the leafy ground snapped me up in it’s rope embrace like some primordial lover. Moments later I was swinging back and forth, dangling forlornly from the branch of the tree. Somewhere in the distance I could hear the clatter of cans that signalled my capture. My right leg was twisted up under me, while my left had escaped the worst of the net, trailing towards the grass in a long, pale column , my upper thigh tightly gripped by a single hole in that terrible net, one knot making itself personally felt as it itched maddeningly against my tenderest spot. I could still move my arms, and it was only their help that kept the net from pressing worryingly tight against my face.
Thinking desperate thoughts I twisted my neck back to see if there was any way I could reach some vital knot at the top of the net to free myself. There was one, just above the top of the net, but if I could just reach it, maybe I could set myself free. Bracing myself I moved by hands and allowed the net to press firmly against my face as I reached up to the top of the net. By forcing my hands through the gaps in the net I could just reach the knot with my fingertips. With a desperation born of the unknown fate I face I set my nails and fingertips to work, and for a moment I really thought I was in with a chance. The knot unravelled a fraction, then my weight in the net forced it to slip, snapping the knots up out of my reach and sealing my fate. The holes through which my hands were so hopefully reaching snapped closed, gripping my wrists tightly and implacably.
Sensing the sheer hopelessness of the situation my tightly closed mouth opened to admit a wail, and as my lips parted a strand of the net was forced between them. I desperately tried to force it back out again, but my frantic movements just allowed other strands to wrap themselves about my chin and head, effectively harnessing me into silence.
I looked up from my swaying prison to see the girls standing at the edge of the clearing watching me. My boyfriend was imprisoned in a wooden cage on wheels pulled by two hefty and tightly harnessed ponygirls. He was chained upright to the crude ceiling of the cage, his manhood already erect in response to the sight of muscular buttocks the two ponygirls presented him with. Emma was there too. Strung out on a pole like slaughtered game. The residue of the thick black mud covered her completely from her toes to her chin. Periodically she struggled frantically against her own bodyweight, but it was clear that exhaustion was near. The girl with the mass of dark hair stood at her shoulder, occasionally caressing her and looking longingly down at her tautly stretched body.
“Now” Said Steph “I think it’s time we told our guests about the carnival….”
* * * * *
The light from a thousand bulbs will keep us all warm not matter how cold the night becomes. And the deafening noise of the music will drown out any sounds they do not wish to drift to the onlookers and give the game away. We are on a carnival float, all three of us part of a wild range of dancing and writhing tableaux of circus animals. Who the other animals are I can’t guess. Maybe they have also been hunted over their estates, or maybe they lost some exotic bet and found themselves are trapped into this display as we are.
Tall strapping Arelie is standing over us in her full ringmasters outfit (Or should that be ring mistress ?), a stern look on her face beneath her tall top hat. Red coattails flash as she dances back and forth on the towering heels of her boots, fishnet outlining her magnificent thighs. And she is plying her long whip with an enthusiasm that is all too real.
My boyfriend and I are amongst her ponies. Clad from head to toe in a skintight lycra that hides our faces from the masses, our limbs are kept in check by a mass of playful looking straps and buckles that are every bit as restraining as the heavier items we wore together not so long ago. And high hoof boots keep us up on our tiptoes in the approved fashion. Every so often that whip slashes across an unguarded buttock, and the twin vibrators that have been fitted to me front and rear spring into life at random intervals and make me go weak at the knees while tears pour from my eyes in sheer frustration as they shut off moments before I can achieve the release I so crave.
My boyfriend has a similar vibrating toy strapped about the base of his manhood, and it too vibrates wildly but all too briefly to keep him aroused but thoroughly frustrated. And a tight harness keeps his rampant erection from showing by keeping it tight against his thigh with fine leather straps. Emma is further along the float. She is also sheathed in tight lycra, but hers has strategic openings disguised from the onlooking public by carefully applied makeup. She is down on her knees on a tabletop in front of that girl with the mass of dark hair and big brown eyes. And she is being ‘groomed’. Long, lingering fingers dance across her tender young body, tweaking aroused nipple and caressing tender inner thighs.
Every so often I catch her eyes as the girl’s touch force her body to betray her, and tears run from her eyes as well as she feels orgasm rushing upon her. An orgasm bought on by another woman, a woman she hardly knows. Well, hold on dear Emma. It’s a long circuit for the float before we reach the end of this run, and there are other carnivals to come this week…….
13.03.08
story continues in My Daughter & I Part 11: At the Asylum
o0o