Jägersmuth Pt. 01

"Don't worry."

The two held hands on and off during their walk in the fading sun. They'd made their way past the area of woodland where they'd encountered Christine. Something in Alice's judgement had been off, and she and Georgia both knew it. They'd wandered too close to Christine somehow, and those men had been all around them. If they hadn't spotted her and withdrawn, they might already have been caught.

"You know, I think it's cool that you're at least... trying to get into it. I'm sorry I was hard on you."

"No, I was an idiot for not paying attention. This is my own fault." The two walked a few paces, quietly considering the truth of that statement. "But... yeah. I am trying to get into it, I guess. I'm pretty envious of the stories all of you have to tell, I wish I had a few of those of my own."

"I don't think that's going to be a problem anymore."

It felt exposed, but the light was low, and they were on a wide plane with no sign of anyone on the horizon. The hunters tended to carry lamps and torches -- the women would see them in the distance before they got spotted.

There was another of those stone turrets, growing nearer.

"Can we hide in there?"

"I mean... if you were on the other team, would you look in there?"

"Yeah. Okay. Yeah, like, as soon as I saw it."

"Exactly."

"Right, but... we're butt naked, Alice. The sun's going down."

That would make it roughly in the area of 8 o'clock.

"We can't stay indoors long enough to get warm, though."

"We could just stop? For a little bit?"

The two resolved to take a look inside the tower, on the off-chance there was anything of use. The turret was situated at the centre of a loose collection of trees of different shapes and sizes -- not dense enough to provide any kind of cover.

Inside, it was markedly less decrepit than the exterior had led them to believe -- another bougie renovation. Modern hardwood floor, clean walls, a little kitchen area with a small bathroom on the ground floor that they both made use of, and sturdy-looking stepladder to the bedroom above. It was heated -- heating that was already running as they entered, and they surmised that these smaller buildings must have been set up as rest points, at their own risk. There was even electric lighting, which Alice flipped off with a pointed glare as quickly as Georgia had switched it on.

There was enough stocked for Georgia to get some cups of tea made, passing them up the stepladder to Alice before following her up.

"Well this is very cosy" said Alice, perching on the edge of the bed and sipping. "But we can't hang around."

"I know. We can have a cup of tea and figure out which direction to go, anyway."

The floor was primitive -- intentionally so, Georgia guessed. Bare subfloor, and boards on top, with enough gaps that you could see through to the floor below. Alice set her tea down in the middle of a board and tiptoed over to the stepladder, pulling it up and replacing the hatch. She returned to the bed, sitting a little closer to Georgia.

Georgia tried to look to her side surreptitiously -- it was dark, not without visibility, but enough that she could sneak a glance. She'd seen so much of Alice's body today that it wasn't even about that -- she just wanted to be looking in her direction, to sense whether she was looking back. The tension felt real enough; in the quiet, the light low, neither of them clothed or particularly withheld by this point. But Alice had led them this far, and Georgia felt nowhere near ready to take the lead.

She shook her head a little, and took too big a gulp of tea. They were pausing here, and even this wasn't wise. There was no time to be dithering and exploring.

A bright light passed through the room, glinting through the narrow arch window for just a moment. A torch, searching quickly.

"Ah, fuck."

"Shit, shit."

Alice crouched low, moving towards the window.

"Alice, get under the bed."

"What?" She paused, and looked back. Georgia was just as surprised to hear the words come out of her mouth.

"Hide, they won't expect two of us. If they get me here it'll buy you loads of time."

Alice slowly crawled closer to the window, keeping her voice at a whisper.

"No, get on top of the bed."

"Why?"

"If they turn the lights on they'll be able to see through the boards. Stay on top of the bed."

"Oh." Georgia brought her feet up on the mattress, and shuffled until her back was flat against the stone wall. Alice leaned carefully up to the corner of the window and peered out.

"Oh, it's Melissa."

Georgia hopped off the bed and crept up next to Alice, all but pressing her nose against the glass.

Melissa was flat against one of the tree trunks outside, and still fully clothed, t-shirt and sweatpants intact. A little further away, Georgia saw the lights of countless torches searching the field. They didn't seem to be in pursuit -- it was possible that nobody had noticed Melissa yet -- but it seemed inevitable that they'd gravitate to the building in time.

The torchlight hit the back of the tree she was hiding behind, illuminating her hair's messy red outlines. She was looking up at the tower -- she seemed to be looking straight back at them, but with the lights off, it seemed impossible that she could have spotted the two as they peered over the window ledge.

"Oh, don't try to come in here..." Georgia murmured. But Melissa stayed put. Logically, there was nowhere to go until the lights abated. The pair could make out the smirk on the girl's face, thrilled by the hunt reaching a personal peak, and no doubt expecting all manner of fun to unravel imminently. Georgia could guess by now that no matter how game the girls personally were to spend a night under the control of countless aggressive men, none of them were in the mood to give in without giving it their all. Certainly, there was a lot of money on the table, but the experience itself couldn't mean much without it being taken seriously.

The torchlight behind Melissa moved, and the girl was shrouded in the murky blue darkness again. Immediately, she crouched low, and darted to the next tree, resuming cover.

So far, it hadn't entirely hit her that this was, truly, play. The girls weren't living the entrapment and predation that she perceived. They were experiencing the hunt as the game that it was, with thrills and rewards and forfeits and challenges. In fact, she and Alice might just be the outliers; she, intimidated and afraid, and Alice, disproportionately ambitious.

Melissa darted again, yet closer to the tower, aiming for the last thick tree between her and the building.

The lights swept back towards them, lighting up the room once again, and freezing Melissa on the spot like a rodent.

A chorus of whistles. Melissa began to run again, not towards the tower, but back to another tree, perhaps hoping to use the obstacle to feint and evade. The torchlights fanned quickly around the line of trees, all pointing towards her, moving apprehensively. The feint successful, she changed direction abruptly behind the trunk, breaking past her immediate pursuer and making a run for the nearest patch of woodland -- by no means near, but if she could break through the line ahead of her, she might indeed stand a chance at prolonging her freedom.

She collided with a man almost twice her size charging from her left, ending Melissa's hunt and lifting her up into the air by her waist.

"Here we go..." Alice sounded breathless as they watched the men swarm, Melissa struggling -- thrashing -- against her captor's grip. They could hear her laughter, too, thrilled shrieks of giddy submission. Masked faces gathered around and pulled at her clothes; she lost her shoes almost instantly, and while several men wrestled her out of her t-shirt, another group tugged at the legs of her sweats until they, too were trampled on the grass below.

Alice gave a small gasp of delight. Georgia took a second, and then remembered her warning from earlier. Deprived of her clothes, the lights glowing her skin white, there was no mistaking the sensible boxer briefs and sports bra that Melissa had worn out to the field.

"What are they gonna do to her?"

Alice didn't answer, but her breathing told the tale: loud, long, trembling breaths, the kind one can't help drawing when adrenaline flows.

Melissa was helped out of the contraband underwear, and lowered to her feet, the giant locking her skinny arms behind her back. 22 years old, she was every bit as petite as Christine, with that luscious translucent paleness that ginger-haired people possess. The men closest to her were hitting her already: flat-handed slaps about her cheeks, breasts, thighs. Anyone who could reach close enough in the throng was ready to land a blow. Her yelps carried to the onlookers at the window, as did her subsequent gasping laughter.

"She wore that on purpose, didn't she?"

"Mmhm." Alice's murmur of assent sounded almost like a pleasured moan, underscored by the white noise of her intense breathing.

There was snapping and cracking from the darkness all around the clearing as the torchlit girl's body was turned pink, then red, with a cascade of handprints. She squirmed and bucked and shrieked, her arms locked ever tighter behind her. They could hear the slapping, too, and Georgia wondered how hard they must have been hitting her for the sound of the strikes to carry.

One man squared his stance with the young woman and placed his hand at her throat, and Georgia fixated on the telltale look of concentrated anticipation on her face as she glared into his. Her yelps stopped entirely as he squeezed. Her lower lip hung limp, and her face changed colour. He administered several loud slaps to her breasts, one after the other, with his free hand, and her face twitched, her head lurching in lieu of vocalising the pain. Alice muttered enraptured "yes, yes, yes" sounds. Georgia daren't look away from the sight of their friend being throttled and beaten, in case the sight of her partner's engrossment was somehow more disturbing.

He released his grip. Melissa choked several breaths in and out of her lungs, hissing through bared teeth as the influx of oxygen revitalised the acute pain in her breasts.

"Are they gonna give her a break?"

"God, I fucking hope not..."

Two men either side hoisted her legs off the ground, bending her knees and pulling back, holding her wide. Even they could see her pussy, pink and clean-shaven, from here.

"Oh fuck yes do it. Do it, do it, do it..." Alice sounded entranced. Georgia guessed what "it" was about a second before it happened: the same man who had choked her struck her hard on her cunt with his fingers.

Melissa's head strained forward in an effort to double over, and where she had squealed and gasped, there was now an immediate guttural utterance as her clitoris and labia broadcast pain in every direction. After the briefest pause for recovery, another strike yielded another low scream, and then another, and this time the scream was silent. Melissa convulsed, her shoulders and neck moving up and down, attempting to do something with the shockwaves of pain overwhelming her. There were half-sympathetic, half-sadistic gasps from the crowd, too, and Alice made similar sounds. Onlookers reached round to tug and twist her nipples, or grasp handfuls of her hair. It was a crowded, suffocating space, and at its centre was innocent, delicate-seeming Melissa, red marks turning to purple, restrained and spread, absorbing blow after blow against her soft cunt.

The girl was whimpering now, her head hanging forward. A final strike, and her body shuddered limply and soundlessly, and her legs were allowed to hang freely. She buckled under them, collapsing back into the arms of the man who'd held her.

He kneeled on the grass, and she instinctively draped herself over his knees. Now that he'd lowered himself into the torchlight, Georgia could see more clearly that he wore the mask of a bear, and it looked more arcane and folkish than some of the others -- possibly real fur, she thought. He had the body to match, too -- fat, broad, tall, and hairy. He stroked Melissa like a pet, caressing her hair and back, although her back was untouched, all their attention thus far having been concentrated on her front. Her head lolled onto the grass, and Georgia saw, with some relief, that she appeared to be laughing to herself again.

The cracking sound from earlier became abundantly clear, as had the unusual absence of some of the present pack. Several men brandished branches from the nearby trees, that they'd taken the time to de-leaf.

The two watched, transfixed, as the beating resumed, this time concentrated solely on her buttocks. Fresh sticks from the trees whipped at her skin, waking her back up from her haze of soreness and producing a series of pleading fresh yelps from her throat. The bear-man simply continued to stroke and soothe her -- he had no need to restrain her any more -- as his accomplices took turns to deliver wooden strikes to her backside. This white, round flesh turned red too, acquiring a pattern of misshapen stripes. Her yelps became muffled groans. She didn't appear to have the strength left to do much of anything.

Georgia finally glanced away from the scene, and dared to look to her right. Alice's breathing had been erratic -- violent -- for a good few minutes now, and she had sensed movement, but it was only now that her suspicion had been confirmed. Alice's forehead was leant against the stone, her eyes trained on the scene on the grass below, her mouth hanging open with her tongue resting against her lower lip. Like Georgia, she was squatting with her feet flat against the floor, but she had twisted to lean her side against the wall as she eased back on her haunches. Even in this darkness, Georgia could see very clearly that the gorgeous young woman who had guided her to this point was supporting her strange lean with only one hand flat on the floor, the other furiously rubbing at her clit, her hips already beginning to churn against the flat of her hand.

Georgia's mind relented, admitting to herself that this is what she'd been hoping to see. Alice's stare hadn't left the window, captivated by Melissa's beating, and she hadn't noticed that Georgia was now watching her, instead. The gentle sinews of trunk and limbs flexing as she breathed, her nipples now erect, the soft fur of her pussy glistening wetly as it was parted by her fingers. Georgia realised, again, that she was wet, too, and couldn't place the moment it had started -- she couldn't tell herself honestly whether it was the sight of Melissa being tormented or the novel craving for Alice's body that she had developed since they had first disrobed, but she knew that the latter owned her now. She leaned her head against the stone, too, mirroring her friend, and silently let herself take in the sight of Alice's open and furious masturbation.

She was struggling to control her breathing too. Desire and arousal crept up to her neck like the rising tide. Slow gasps gave way to one inevitable moan, and Alice looked her straight in the eye. The girl didn't hesitate -- those delicious looking lips twisted into an open grin through which her moans travelled, and just as quickly, her eyes turned back to the scene outside. A momentary acknowledgement of Georgia's attention. Acceptance. Permission. Permission that Georgia didn't have the first idea how to use. She wanted to help. She so desperately wanted to touch her.

Oh my god, she thought, you even smell good.

She gingerly reached out a hand, hoping to touch the squirming, moaning vision at her waist and then, perhaps, bring herself closer. Alice quickly caught it, squeezing the hand tight before urging it back towards its owner. Her arousal became tinged with the humiliation of rejection, until Alice's grip guided her hand downwards, towards Georgia's own pussy, placing it reverently on her mound and returning her fingers to herself.

She hadn't even thought about touching herself, but the instruction was accepted without question. Georgia's clit welcomed her fingertips by sending a shiver of pleasure up through her, and she couldn't help but follow Alice's rhythm. Where she was usually accustomed to starting with tender, teasing strokes, she was compelled to feel the same thing her friend felt, to do as she did. A moan crept up to her lips and escaped. The hurried massaging of her pussy felt unusually good in the company of another. She sank down to the floor and leaned herself against the stone wall as well, sideways, so that she, like Alice, could easily shift her attention between her companion and the proceedings outside.

Alice turned back to look at her again, meeting her stare, and taking in the sight of the older woman's contours writhing against the stone as the two fucked themselves in time. Georgia could feel sweat beginning to pour out of her. She could smell them both now, their scent combined in the warm air between them. Alice nodded in perverse approval of the sight before her, urging her to continue, for them to share in their self-pleasuring.

Alice's head pivoted back to the window, and Georgia followed suit. Melissa, her body painted with handprints and long, thin welts, was prostrate on the grass, as if in prayer, her forehead touching the ground between her hands. The bear-man kneeled a short distance in front of her, and seemed to be saying something, though neither of them could have begun to guess what -- only that he continued talking, while another man crouched behind her and fucked her sore, battered pussy with as much force as he could manage. Georgia had been appalled, before, and now she reached lower, sliding her middle two fingers inside herself without thinking and fucking herself in time with his thrusts. She let out the loudest moan she could dare to, without risking those outside hearing her, and drew Alice's attention once more, who gasped an excited "fuck yes" at the sight before following in kind, filling herself up with her own slender fingers in a forceful, wet, fucking motion.

As Melissa, barely able to hold herself up, was fucked into the grass, men gathered to stand and kneel around her, stroking their cocks with as much furious abandon as the two women watching from above. Georgia stuffed her fingers inside herself, greedy for release, desperate to see the same from the people down below. She salivated at the sight of Melissa's bruised body shaking and lurching with the successive impacts of his cock. The men stroking themselves seemed to shift in tension, and she realised that they never planned to fuck her.

"They're gonna cum all over her..."

"Yes, yes, fuck yes, yes..."

"Do it, do it..."

The women vocalised their desire together, hungry spectators clamouring for the inevitable. Georgia had been infected completely by Alice's voyeurism; as she fucked herself, she introduced the fingers of her other hand back to her clit, and her hips squirmed against her fingers, familiar tremors of tension gathering around her pussy. Her orgasm built and built, willed forward by a newfound desire to see her friend abused, fucked, and degraded, a desire that was being gratified endlessly before her very eyes. Her gaze flitted back and forth between the sight of Melissa's body being drilled down, and that of Alice's beautiful, perfect figure mirroring her own, chasing the release that they would share in together.

Several strings of semen shot across Melissa's back, and the women moaned pained yesses in near-unison. They were shortly followed by another fountain of thick, white gunk, glinting under the concentrated light of so many torches. It quickly pooled in the groove of her spine, guttering down towards her neck. More; it was a chain reaction, the sight of her tortured skin being doused with cum forcing more men over the edge. No inch of her back was spared, ejaculation after ejaculation being aimed at any patch of unpainted skin. Long, velocious arcs, slow oozes. With each orgasm concluded, its bearer backed away to let the next one through. Melissa obediently let their cum drench her, the bear-mask muttering whatever monologue had kept her so calm and controlled. The secretions of the hunt coated her hundreds of contusions like a balm.