S.A.D., the S is for...

"But how, exactly?"

Angie gave me a curious look. "You're very interested in the details. Maybe you'd like to join after all?"

I snorted. "Definitely not. But I'd like to know what I might see when we get there."

"You probably won't see anything. Isabella doesn't want you spying on the participants. But if you need to know, the man pretty much decides how he spanks you. And it gets a bit more embarrassing every time you're caught. Or at least the chasing does."

"Embarrassing?"

"I'm not sure you want to know," Angie said and giggled.

"Do you try to get away?"

"Not once the spanking begins. That's not allowed. You can put up a fight when he catches you, though."

"A fight? I should have brought a bigger medic kit!"

"No punching or anything. But you can try to get away until he wrestles you to the ground. For some, that's a big part of the rush. But I usually just submit once they catch me."

"Submit? You just let them have their way with you?"

"Within the rules of the game, yes. But there's no sex involved. They can't touch your cunt, no matter how much either of you want it."

I shook my head in disbelief. I'd never heard Angie use the C-word before. She was definitely slipping into a different mindset.

* * * *

When we pulled up to a large mansion, an elegant woman approached us. Her black hair had hints of grey and was arranged in a neat slicked-back bun. Angie had mentioned that the women who participated in the game were in good shape, and this woman was no exception. Yet, in a tight plaid skirt and a matching jacket, she didn't look like she was dressed for a chase.

Angie waved excitedly and hurried to exit the car. "Isabella, how lovely to see you again!"

To my surprise, Angie bobbed a formal curtsy before embracing the woman for a double-cheek kiss.

"So happy you could come," Isabella said. "You look beautiful, as always."

"As do you! Please, meet my friend."

Isabella looked over to me. "I see. So, you're the medic?"

"That's what I've been told," I said, holding out my hand to introduce myself.

Isabella sized me up with a stone-faced stare before accepting my hand. She turned her focus back to Angie.

"Are you sure you don't want to stay for the night?"

"Yes, we've booked ourselves into a motel," Angie said. "We'll be leaving after the game."

Isabella tilted her head and drew a slight smirk. "Unless you lose, I presume?"

"Yes. Of course. But I won't."

Isabella didn't look convinced.

"Either way, there's a room prepared for you if you change your mind," she said and turned to walk towards the area where three other women waited. "Come, the rest of the girls are already here."

Angie skipped along after Isabella, waving excitedly to the other women. I had never seen my friend so jittery. I grabbed my medic kit from the car and strolled after them. I felt nervous to meet a group of women who all shared the same strange interest. Yet, I tried to tell myself that, given what they were there for, they should be abashed to meet me rather than the other way around.

Two of the girls—a petite Asian and a slender redhead—greeted Angie in a group-hug. They seemed as jittery and excited as Angie. She introduced the Asian girl as Mai and the redhead as Theresa.

"So nice to meet you!" Mai said, greeting me with an embrace. "It's so kind of you to take care of the medic job so Angie can focus on the game this year."

"Yeah, now she'll have nothing to blame it on when she loses," the redhead teased.

"No chance!" Angie said, sticking her tongue out at Theresa before turning to Mai. "I like your outfit. Who are you this year?"

Mai was dressed in a short skirt, a white top with a blue jean collar, and a bright red ribbon in the front.

"You can't tell?" she asked in mock offence. "I'm Sailor Moon!"

I had no idea who that was, but I could see there was a vague sailor-theme to her costume, though I had never seen a sailor uniform quite like that—with a skirt that just barely covered her ass.

"Mai always dresses up for the game," Angie explained.

Mai nodded excitedly. "I love cosplay, and I love spankings. So, why not combine them?"

She giggled, and I did my best to smile. I was taken aback by how unreservedly this girl I just met talked about her kink. But presumably there was no reason to pretend they didn't all know why they were there. All except me, of course.

"Who's that?" I asked, pointing to a black woman, who seemed busy warming up. Her camouflage-patterned hotpants and matching top added to the impression that she was getting ready for combat. They also did little to hide the fact that she was in exceptionally good shape, with muscular thighs and a toned midriff. She had headphones on and seemed less than interested in any chit-chat.

"That's Charla," Angie said. She waved at the black woman, who returned the greeting with a slight nod without breaking her warm-up routine. "She's the one I told you about that never gets caught. She likes to psych herself up before the game begins."

"She looks like she's properly dressed for a run," I said. "Why aren't all of you? Or maybe you want to get caught?"

I thought it was a fair question, but Angie gave me a tired look. The other women didn't seem offended.

"I like to dress like I do on a typical day at home," Theresa explained. "It makes the whole thing seem more real to me, and it's easier to relate to afterwards somehow. I'm a grad-student, and jeans and tank top are what I'd typically wear to the library."

"I like to think of this as my alternative to a Valentine's date," Angie said. "So, I dress for a date. Which reminds me..."

Without hesitation, my friend stripped off the casual clothes she'd worn for the car ride. Her bra and panties were a matching black, and didn't come across as something she'd picked to be comfortable while running. The high-cut brief left a lot of her cheeks bare, and her nipples were partly visible through the laced details of her bra. I hadn't dared to ask what level of undress the spankings were administered at and wondered if her sexy underwear were a sign Angie expected to be seen in them.

But I knew there could be other reasons, especially if Angie regarded the game as a substitute for a date. The two of us had laughed about the concept of dating underwear. Even when there were no expectations that the man would see you undressed at the end of the date, there was something satisfying about getting through-and-through dressed up. If I was honest with myself, I had done the same—both inside and out. I wasn't there to play some stupid game, but I'd put on clothes that were appealing rather than practical. The tight blouse emphasized my breasts, and the flowery skirt flapped in the light breeze. I wasn't sure what to make of Angie's revelation about Paul's eccentric interests, but I still wanted to give a good impression, should I run into him.

After unabashedly chatting in her underwear, Angie squatted down and started digging through her bag. A moment later, she pulled out a black dress, which she wiggled into. It hugged her slim frame.

"It's stretchy, so it's actually not that hard to run in," she said, pulling at the fabric. She bowed down and tightened her sneakers. "Have to wear good shoes though. Don't want to give you any extra work."

"And what about Isabella?" I asked, glancing at the woman who hadn't been hiding her interest in Angie's little exhibition. Unlike the other girls, she was wearing boots with elevated heels. "Does she play?"

"No, she doesn't participate in the hunt," Theresa said.

I gave her a skeptical frown. "So, she just hosts these games out of the goodness of her heart?"

Mai chuckled. "I don't think it's completely altruistic. She usually gets something out of it too."

Angie and Theresa joined in a giggle. I was about to ask what they were referring to when Isabella called for attention.

"OK, girls! We'll start in five minutes. If you have any last-minute preparations, make them now. Laura, come with me. I'll show you where your equipment is."

"I brought my own," I said, holding up my medic kit.

"Very well. But I need you to wear this if you leave the base," Isabella said and handed me a bright yellow hat. "It's the only way the hunters won't know you're playing."

Hunters, I thought. It was a suitable term for the men who came there to chase down a bunch of women and subject them to a spanking. But what did that make the women?

"Where are they?" I asked. I'd been worried what I should say to Paul when meeting him under these unusual circumstances.

"Who?"

"Uhm, the hunters?"

"They start from the other side of the property," Isabella said. "It's better not to mix them beforehand. Not knowing who you might encounter out there adds to the rush, it seems."

"How many are they?"

"It's four men this year, same as the women. And all of them wear a wrist device like this." She handed me something that looked like a watch, but instead of the clock, the electronic display showed a compass. "The blue arrow points to the base at all times. If someone gets hurt, they will press the red button, and a red arrow will point you in their direction. I have the device too, so if I'm not with you, press your button if you need a pickup with the jeep."

"What's the blue button for?" I asked.

"That's just for the hunters. The winner presses that button to tell everyone that the game is over."

"How do they win exactly?"

"The game ends whenever a girl has been caught five times. Whoever captures her is considered the winner and..." Isabella cut herself off and gave me a scrutinizing stare. "You seem oddly interested in the ins and out of the game. Why's that?"

I felt uneasy under her cold blue eyes. "Uhm, just curious."

"I hope you understand that discretion is essential for an event like this. The participants all have reason to prevent what we do out here from becoming public knowledge. No one wants an audience."

I shrugged my shoulders. "I won't tell anyone."

"Then I guess you don't need to know the details. Unless..." Isabella held my gaze for an uncomfortably long moment. "Angie told me you weren't interested in participating. Was she wrong?"

"I'm not not that type of woman."

Isabella drew a slight smirk and inspected me with piercing eyes. "Of course not. OK, girls! Twenty seconds!"

The women gathered at a road crossing. A white line had been drawn in the gravel to indicate the starting line. Isabella picked up a gas horn and looked at her watch. Everyone was dead silent.

"OK, go!" Isabella yelled and let the horn echo over the property.

The four women set of running. At first, they ran as a group, but eventually they dispersed, each of them heading for different forest patches surrounding the vineyards.

And just like that, I was left alone with Isabella. Neither of us seemed inclined to strike up conversation. Isabella sipped a glass of wine, and there was a spare glass for me. But I didn't ask her to pour me a drink. I was there for the sole purpose of a medic and didn't want her to think otherwise.

After twenty slow-moving minutes of silence, I decided I needed a change of scenery.

"I'll just go for a stroll," I said.

"This isn't a peep show, you know," Isabella cautioned, her stern eyes locked onto mine.

"I know. But in case anything happens, isn't it better that I'm out there, ready to help?"

Isabella gave me a tedious stare. Eventually she shrugged. "OK, you're the doctor. But don't go spying on the participants."

"Of course," I said, annoyed by the patronizing tone in Isabella's voice.

"And whatever you do, don't take off your hat. They won't be able to tell you apart from the other women."

I headed up the road, which was flanked by vineyard fields. It was still hard to grasp the absurd reality of what was going on out there. I scanned my surroundings, but all I could see were straight rows of vines. Adjacent to the fields were several forest covered hills. I assumed the women were hiding there. A shiver came over me as I imagined behaving like a hunted animal.

I told myself the best place for me as a medic was where the action was likely to occur and steered towards one of the forest patches. The yellow wildflowers that fringed the narrow path reflected the light of the warming sun, which beamed down from a bright blue sky. I often found that this time of year, when the mild winter broke into early spring, was the perfect time to enjoy a stroll in the forest. Normally, I would have listened carefully to the songbirds; now I listened carefully for something entirely different. My eyes darted among the bushes, curious to get a glimpse of the things Angie had described.

Yet I saw nothing out of the ordinary—trees, flowers, and a ground squirrel disappearing under some rocks. I began to wonder if Angie had played an elaborate joke on me. Driving all the way out here for a pointless gag sounded far-fetched, but so did the game. Bored, I started to head back to the base.

But an odd sound made me stop. I listened carefully. The soft whimpering of a female voice came from the other side of a hill.

Isabella's exhorting words echoed in my head, telling me I wasn't meant to spy on the participants. But what if these were the sounds of a woman in need of medical attention? I moved slowly up the hill, stepping carefully as if not to scare off a rare animal.

I froze in my tracks as I peeked over the ridge. There, in the sunlit glade stood Theresa with her hands against a tree trunk. The redhead was bending slightly at the hips, and her jeans and underwear had been pulled down to her knees. Next to her stood a man, who greedily groped her naked ass. Theresa moaned as he slapped her.

I ducked down, heart pounding in my chest. This was not meant for my eyes. I felt guilty for prying, yet unable to sneak away. The scene was glued to my retinas. I gasped as I heard the slapping sound of a hand against Theresa's behind. It compelled me to sneak another peek. I crawled up the ridge ever so slowly.

The scenery was still breathtaking. Theresa arched her back, making her ass an inviting target. Her eyes were closed, and I couldn't tell if it was due to her shame or to focus on the sensation of her experience.

Her ass bounced with each slap, and the spanker seemed transfixed on what he was doing. He would unlikely see me. Yet, that stupid hat Isabella made me wear was meant to be spotted from afar. I ducked down, forcing myself not to push my luck.

Still, I couldn't bring myself to leave. I'd never considered myself the voyeuristic type, but the scene in the glade struck a chord deep inside me, affecting me in a way I never expected. Theresa's compliant pose, the demanding eyes of the spanker, and the taboo of a woman so unreservedly submitting to a dominating man—it all compelled me to watch. At least I had the sun in my back, making me harder to spot.

I took off the hat. Isabella's cautious warning went off like an alarm inside my head. That hat was the only thing separating me from the participating women. At first, I placed it on the ground next to the medic kit. The hat was within arm's reach, but it wasn't safe. It wasn't a windy day, but the hat was light, and an opportune gust might catch it. That could be a disaster. Next to me was a pile of rocks, and I jammed the hat into a crevice. I made sure the hat was safely secured before quickly crawling up the ridge again. There was no way to know how long the display would go on for, and I desperately wanted another glimpse.

I was pleased to find the spanking still in progress on the other side. In fact, it seemed to have intensified. Theresa threw her head back as she received a sharp slap to her ass. Her hair whooshed through the air, the sun reflected in her red locks. I found myself copying Theresa's expression, mouth left open in a mixture of shock and pleasure. Every time the spanker's hand landed on Theresa's ass, she wrinkled her brow in pain before her face melted back into lush submission.

To this day, I can't explain why I did what I did next. My hand had a will of its own as it moved down my body, and I didn't fully register what I was doing until I had wedged my arm between myself and the ground. My hand continued inside the hem of my skirt, and as I felt the touch of my fingers between my legs, I pressed my lips together to suppress a moan.

I knew what I was doing was wrong, and a part of my mind screamed for me to stop. What was I doing? Touching myself while spying on some outrageous spanking game just wasn't me. And yet, I couldn't bring myself to stop. Just another moment, I thought. I reassured myself that in the off chance the couple in the glade would see me, the ridge would hide where my hand was. I kept my head low as I continued to spy.

But I wasn't remotely concealed from the back. I gasped as I heard a cracking sound behind me. I spun my head around and spotted a black man running at me. He was wearing running shorts and a sporty top, making him look like an Olympic sprinter. He was around two hundred yards away, but that distance diminished by the second.

I panicked. In the heat of the moment, I couldn't remember which crevice I'd jammed the hat in. And overwhelmed with shame, I wasn't sure I should put it back on even if I found it. The man running at me must have seen me spying, which I'd been given strict instructions not to do. How could I possibly explain away my actions? Had he seen where my hand had been?

Whatever he'd seen, he approached quickly. Instinct kicked in. I felt as if my body made decisions for me, and I took off running. I knew I wouldn't be able to outrun him and steered into the dense part of the forest. Hopefully, the terrain would conceal me. My skirt fluttered as I skipped over stones and logs. My entire being was consumed with one thing—to escape.

Glancing anxiously over my shoulder, I tried to see if I'd successfully shaken off my pursuer. When I couldn't see him, I stopped and listened for steps. All I could hear was myself gasping for air. My heart pounded in my chest as I leaned back against a trunk to catch my breath.

I shook my head at my predicament. What had I done? Sure, it would have been embarrassing to face the hunter, especially if he'd seen me touching herself. But how was this any better? The hunter had likely been too far away to notice what I'd been doing. I could have just put the hat back on and made up some excuse—maybe pretend that I was lying on the ground because I'd tripped. But now I was far away from my immunity hat. I wasn't even sure I could find my way back. How could I get myself out of this mess?

One solution would be to use the tracking device Isabella had given me. I could just press the button to make Isabella come get me. But I didn't dare to explain how I had ended up without the hat. There was something very strict about her attitude that made me feel I shouldn't cross her.

It was only then I realized I had left the medic kit behind too. I grabbed my forehead, marveling at my own stupidity. I couldn't help thinking that Angie was right; it was hard to fight the instinct to flee when a man came running at you, especially if his intentions were to submit you to a spanking. A thrill rushed through my body as the image of Theresa entered my mind. What if I hadn't escaped? Could I have ended up in a similar position?

I decided that my best option was to slowly backtrack to where I'd left my things. There was a good chance I would make it there unnoticed. I hadn't seen anyone for a long time before stumbling on Theresa and her spanker, so I assumed the game covered a large area. Treading carefully, I started walking back, hoping my chaser had kept running in the wrong direction.

Using the sun to navigate against, I retraced my steps through the forest. I had covered a lot of distance during my escape, and my pulse increased with ever step. I scanned my surroundings, ready to flee at the mere hint of someone approaching. I recalled the thrill of playing hide and seek as a kid. This game, however, was far more adult, and the stakes were significantly higher. And so was the thrill.