Hunted Ch. 01

Author's Note: This series contains no nonconsensual activity, but it is explicitly about consensual nonconsent. So, for most people that amounts to the same thing. If you don't like heavy dubcon, primal and the way that dark stories make you feel, please go read someone else's story and leave me alone. I like what I like, and I don't need to appologize for it. Thank you.

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Ch 1: A Conversation

When Sarah first told her about how she'd spent her weekend, Angela couldn't believe what she was hearing. In fact, she refused to believe it. It was a shocking thing, and all she could do was sit there in stunned silence while Sarah told her about the 'hunt' she'd attended. As she continued to rattle off the outrageous details, it became harder and harder to believe that she was making any of them up, though.

They'd both had a little too much to drink, of course, and Angela had been the one to start talking about kinky shit, so this strange detour into the rapey was on her, on some level. In fairness, though, she'd expected Sarah to give her a hard time about having a threesome with two guys last weekend when her current boyfriend had begun to bore her, not bring up something like this. Sarah was kinky little sex positive dyke, and very fond of calling her friend things like 'the handmaiden of the patriarchy' or 'cock addict,' after these little stories. Sometimes she'd even chime in with one of her own, but those were usually pretty tame by comparison.

The last thing she'd expected was for her to nod and say, "That sounds fun, but it's not nearly as crazy as what I did last weekend..."

After that, she'd gone on to describe being driven up to a secluded ranch up in the mountains outside of town where she and several other women had been 'hunted' by men who had paid for the privilege. It went beyond kinky. It sounded dangerous and insane.

"You're fucking serious, aren't you," Angela said, gaping.

"Serious enough that I want to go again next month," Sarah said with a smile as she finished the watery dregs of her margarita.

"But... but you could get pregnant!" Sarah blurted out. She hadn't wanted to seem judgmental, but it boggled her mind.

Sarah was... had been a committed lesbian since they'd first met on a blind date at university. Angela had decided, eventually, that she preferred guys, even if her Mr. Rights always seemed to fizzle out after a few months, but they'd stayed friends ever since. They'd even had the occasional fling here and there, so the idea that her very lesbian, very shy friend would participate in something that sounded so violent concerned seemed... well, it was almost entirely out of character for her.

"Well, it would be a hell of a lot cheaper than Invitro," she said with a laugh.

That at least she could buy. Sarah had always had a body that was made for breeding in a way that Angela could only envy. She had wide hips, heavy breasts, and a maternal nature that would make her a wonderful mommy. 'The only problem with getting knocked up is the sperm dispenser that comes with it,' she'd joked on more than one occasion. There were easier ways to get pregnant than to run screaming from men in the woods, though.

"Look, I know I sound crazy," Sarah admitted. "It was a crazy time, but something about it... Scratches an itch for me, you know? Maybe I've just spent too much time battling the patriarchy's rape culture, and it's infected me in a Nietzschean sense. I don't know. I'd tell you to go to their website and check it out for yourself, but it's probably not for you."

They ordered another round and sat at the bar for almost half an hour longer while their conversation slowly wandered back to more typical topics, but the idea of her pretty friend being hunted by men never really left her mind. Eventually Sarah's date showed up, and she took off after giving Angie a kiss on the cheek, leaving her alone with a half-finished appletini and some real questions about the world.

Angela had come out just dressed up enough, in a pleated pencil skirt and four-inch black heels to accentuate her long legs and slender frame in case she'd wanted to find something casual for the night. Truthfully she'd planned to find someone to warm her bed since her boyfriend seemed to be more interested in his video games than in fucking her lately, but something about that conversation just killed the whole night for her, and even though a couple cute guys tried to hit on her, she still left alone. She just wasn't in the right headspace for something casual anymore.

Of course, it didn't take long once she got home to decide to look up the group that Angela had described. Just to make sure that she was okay, of course. It took a few searches, but eventually, she found a man on a forum trying to decide if it was worth the hefty admission fee that they needed to pay to join the waitlist.

'I'm just saying, I don't normally pay for pussy, but even if I did, a thousand dollars would be way too much. Darkesthunt.com sounds like a real scam to me. That's all I'm saying.'

The post had been almost two years old, and when she looked at his more recent activity, it was still filled with complaints, but this time they were just the opposite of what he'd been saying before. That made Angela smirk, and she almost made an account just to point out the inconsistency, but she decided the last thing she wanted was to get involved with any of those weirdos besides Sarah, of course.

'Look - the service those guys offer is incredible. It's hard to put into words. I'm just saying, It sucks that the waiting list is six months long now. They've got to get some more women or another location or something because only because my balls are achin' to be emptied a whole lot more often than that into some struggling bitch.'

"What a class act," Angie murmured as she typed in the website and found a small, almost innocuous page that billed the place as an establishment specializing in private hunts for adults only.

The webpage had nothing sexual about it at first glance. It talked about the location and provided beautiful pictures of some cabins and the natural beauty they were surrounded by. It was only after she found the buttons to apply for men and women that she finally found what she was looking for.

Because of the complaints she'd just read, she tried the men's link first and found a small landing page that used a picture of a woman being taken roughly over the hood of a truck as the background. The words on the page were blurred out, though, so she couldn't read the terms of membership for men. Instead, there was just a message that said, 'We're sorry, but due to the overwhelming demand, membership is not open to additional men at this time. Please try again in a few weeks.'

The women's page was completely different, though. It was very welcoming and thanked her for her interest in joining the hunt. It laid out a number of intriguing benefits and encouraged her to apply for more information on their stringent requirements if she'd like to know more.

"Cash participation fees, huh? Prizes?" Angie said as she scrolled before the disclaimer at the end of the page cracked her up. "Disclaimer: payments are not related to sex. They are participation fees paid for the women's time. Fucking is just a fringe benefit."

While all of it intrigued her enough to send them her email address to get a little more information, it didn't exactly turn her on. It was weird more than anything. Some weirdo paid desperate women in need of money a pittance so that losers and freaks could hunt them for sport and then use them.

While Angela agreed that outdoor sex was hot, it was because of the risk of being caught or seen. It wasn't because some people liked to be preyed upon or assaulted, was it?

After a little more scrolling, Angela decided that she'd had enough of this weirdness and shut her laptop to get changed for a jog to clear her head before bed. She knew that she'd have some crazy ass nightmares about whatever strange subculture Sarah had found herself without some kind of palette cleanser.

So, she changed from her slinky dress into something more practical, choosing a silver-gray pair of leggings with cute reflective bits, so someone wouldn't run her down by accident and a gray hoodie because it was probably getting a bit chilly out. Then she turned on her AirPods with something lively and upbeat and headed out.

Normally this nightly ritual put her soul at peace. Angie had been jogging since her track and field days in high school almost a decade ago, and at 26, she was still a toned, lean athlete that prioritized endurance and flexibility over other fitness fades that came and went. She'd never had a complaint, and as she caught her reflection on the way to the park to run a couple laps, it wasn't hard to see why. She was still very much peak Angie, as she liked to think about her body. Her breasts could have been a little larger, of course, but she was never getting implants, so there was no helping that.

The rest of her, though? From the top of her shoulder-length light brown hair to the bottom of her shapely calves, every inch of her dripped sex appeal. She just wished her boyfriend noticed. She'd love to be over there right now riding him until he couldn't stand it, but he had a raid tonight, and though she had no idea what that was, he seemed to think it was more important than her neglected pussy.

Angie sighed, trying to decide if she should break up with him now and then find someone or if she should just start looking for someone new and then break up with him once she'd found a better match. In the end, these thoughts drifted away as her normally blissful run started to creep her out.

Normally Shoemaker Park was a well-lit safe haven on all but the snowiest days, but tonight every guy she passed was setting off her creep detector hard. The homeless guy drinking from a brown paper bag on the bench was always there, but tonight he seemed to be checking her out. The guys she jogged past, that was obviously trying to burn through her clothes with her eyes, seemed to have a glint of darkness in their gaze that she didn't remember seeing before.

This was supposed to be relaxing her, but halfway through her first circuit, she felt like she was about to have a panic attack at the crazy new ideas that poisoned her mind. No matter how much she tried to tune it out, though, and no matter how poppy the song she chose though, she couldn't help but imagine half the guys she saw suddenly turning away from whatever they were doing before and trying to run her to ground so they could have their way with her.

They were filthy images that invaded her mind, but somehow she couldn't escape them, and by the time she returned to her apartment to take a hot shower in a further bid to feel clean, she couldn't help but notice that those accidental, terrifying fantasies had somehow managed to turn her on.

"What the fuck," she chastised herself as she stripped and noticed her hard nipples and the wet spot on her white cotton panties. "God, I need to get fucked, because I'm definitely not into this shit."

The shower was finally enough to clear her mind, and as she emerged from her bathroom with one towel wrapped around her head and another wrapped around her body, she was finally feeling good. Then she checked her email.

Until that moment, she'd entirely forgotten that she'd filled out the form on that cursed website, but there it was from application@darkesthunt.com, right at the top of the list. Angie knew that she should delete it. Nothing good could come from opening something like that, but like a moron, she laid down on her bed and opened it anyway.

The body of the email was more advertising boilerplate but included a couple video links to what were described as recent successful events, and there was a brochure and application attached as PDF files.

Angie ignored those for now and instead opened the first video. It cut between some go-pro footage of someone running scared and breathing while they tried to be quiet and a group that was being recorded while they spread out to try to hunt her down.

"She's close," one man said. "Spread out, and we'll have her pinned down before you know it."

There was a moment of indecision where the woman tried to decide the best way to escape as she turned from left to right and back again before she bolted. They saw her almost immediately, and the four men instantly started to converge on her.

It was only when the cameraman started to get close to the woman that Angie realized it was Sarah. They twisted the knife harder as she saw her naked friend brought down between two large trees on a bed of brown, matted leaves.

"There she is," another man shouted. "I've been waiting to get a taste of these titties since I saw them at the starting line."

"No, please don't!" Sarah screamed, sounding totally convincing. For a moment, Angie was sure that her friend didn't want this to happen as the men wrestled her to the ground and ripped away her panties which were her sole piece of clothing other than her shoes.

As she struggled and squirmed, a message popped up on the screen that said, 'All participants are given a safe word and can stop the events you are seeing here at any moment. Though no or stop are meaningless commands, 'iceberg' will make everything stop instantly. All the footage you are seeing is entirely consensual.'

The contrast between those two ideas blew Angie's mind. There Sarah was, struggling and begging for them to stop. At the same time, strange men held her down and violated her, and the video was telling her this was what she wanted? Honestly, Angie wouldn't have believed it if Sarah hadn't already spent almost an hour telling her how it was one of the hottest moments of her life.

And yet as disgusting as Angie found the whole thing, her arousal had returned with a vengeance. Feeling incredibly guilty about it wasn't enough to stop her from reaching for her vibe on the nightstand and turning it on low as she moved it between her spread legs. She hated herself a little for doing it, but the fact that she wasn't going to need any lube kind of said it all, and she didn't even try to suppress her moan as she started to grind it against her clitoris.

She wasn't watching the video now. She was the video. As her eyes closed and she listened to the struggling and the shouting, she became the girl that they were using, and when Sarah finally had per first orgasm, Angie could wait no longer and slid the bright pink rabbit vibrator deep inside her needy hole with one thrust that was so hard it was almost violent.

Tonight wasn't about being gentle. It was about violence. It had been since she left the bar, but it was approaching a climax now, literally and figuratively. As she started to slide the thick silicone cock in and out of her needy hole, she started to murmur right along with Sarah.

"No - not like this, I-I don't want it," she whispered, trying the fantasy on for size. She'd never been one for rape fantasies. She couldn't see the appeal. But right now, the idea of fighting off some asshole as hard as she could and feeling himself force his cock inside her anyway? Something about that was utterly intoxicating, and after only a minute of fucking herself to these disgusting fantasies, she came so hard she saw stars.

She lay there for a moment, enjoying the afterglow of a mind-bending orgasm, and was about to turn off the video and reconsider her life choices when the man that had been fucking Sarah's face pulled out, and she screamed, "No - not inside, I'll get pregnant!"

That sent a shudder of desire through Angie, and she knew that it was going to take a couple more orgasms to get that image out of her system.