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

That was all good in theory, but any notion of appreciation quickly vanished as I heard footsteps from behind. I spun around and saw Paul charging at me. My first instinct was to cover up, one arm over my breasts and the other hand over my pussy. The embarrassment of being caught naked in a forest was even more overwhelming when it was by someone I knew. It reminded me that I existed outside of the game, where the concept of walking around without a stitch of clothing was unthinkable.

The instinct of the prey took over, and I ran. I sprinted aimlessly among the trees. Only one thing mattered—to get away. His steps close behind spurred my legs to move faster. And it seemed to work. He was close enough that I could hear his breath, but he never quite caught up with me, which amazed me. My curvy body wasn't made for sprinting, and Paul looked like a fast runner.

That's when I realized he was purposely prolonging the pursuit. He was playing with me like a cat with a mouse. And why wouldn't he? My big ass rocking with my stride must be spectacular sight from behind. Occasionally, he came up beside me, glancing at my heavy breasts as they bounced. I shrieked and turned my steps away from him. I knew I was about to be caught, but my instinct kept me running.

Eventually, my legs couldn't carry me any longer. I stopped, trying to catch my breath.

"Paul, I..." I panted. "Can we just..."

I couldn't find any words to get me out of this. I was caught and had no right to protest. It was as simple as that.

He placed his hand on my shoulder. "Kneel."

His demanding eyes made me obey in an instant. My mind was a turmoil. And yet, I cherished my ordeal. When he approached, I instinctively leaned forward, expecting a final spanking.

Yet, to my surprise, he instead reached into his bag and brought out a collar. I gave him a bewildered stare, but I didn't hesitate to gather my locks to give him unobstructed access. Paul wrapped the strap around my neck and made sure it was firmly in place. I tilted my head to assist him when he took out a leash and attached it to the collar. I shivered with the submissive thrill. Just like that, I was no longer a wild prey—I was a pet.

"After you," he said and pressed the button on his wrist device. A moment later, a foghorn signaled the end of the game.

The two of us walked in silence, a man with his pet on a leash in front of him. Overcome with shame, I hung my head. The inevitable was about to happen. I was about to face all the participants and explain to them how I got dragged into the game—and lost.

Repeatedly, I considered telling Paul about my ordeal. Surely, he would release me if I told him I wasn't meant to participate. Other hunters carried my clothes, but maybe Paul had something else I could cover up with before meeting the others. Perhaps I could even persuade him to sneak me to Angie's car without facing the rest.

But every time I turned my head to look back at him, my will to plea vanished. I couldn't bear to admit to him that I wasn't part of the game—to tell him that I just hadn't been able to resist. If I'd at least made a conscious decision to participate, there would have been some level of empowerment. Now I just felt weak and remorseful.

To make matters worse, it wasn't long before our party grew. One by one, hunters and prey adhered, catching up from behind with their slow stride or waiting by the side of the path. My embarrassment grew with the size of the assembly, and I was mortified when I spotted Angie coming out of a forest patch up ahead. The blonde looked confused and obviously had a thousand questions to ask. Yet, she said nothing. Just like the rest of them, she walked a few steps behind me.

Theresa and Mai were down to their underwear when they joined the group, but they were handed back their clothes, which they put back on. No one offered me the same courtesy. What a sight we must have been—a procession with a naked woman on a leash at the front.

Every time I looked back, I was met by solemn expressions. It was odd to me that no one spoke. All the women knew I wasn't playing and must wonder how I ended up in this position. Maybe they assumed Isabella convinced me to participate after all. But no one asked. I surmised the rules must forbid any conversation during the walk of shame back to the base. With every minute we walked in silence, I became increasingly aware of how the lack of conversation enhanced my disgrace. It left me with nothing to focus on but my predicament.

And yet, I was thankful for the silence. The only thing that could humiliate me more would be to bring up the fact that I wasn't even playing. I knew I'd have to face up to it soon but was grateful for every moment I could hide behind the rules of the game.

Paul had a distinct pride to his eyes as he held me by the leash. And why shouldn't he be proud? For all he knew, he had caught me fair and square. He was entitled to his prize.

More surprisingly, there was a budding part of me that shared his pride. If I had to be someone's pet, I was grateful I at least had a worthy master. Without noticing, I added a swagger to my stride, instinctively wanting to please Paul with an enticing view. Blushing, I stopped myself, thinking I was only making things worse. It wasn't just Paul who walked behind me, watching my naked parade. What would they think of me if I let on that part of me desired nothing more than to gratify my master?

Then again, could things get any worse? I would soon have to confess my lack of self-control to them all. Even though I'd been outright judgmental of the game, my own carnal desires had lured me into unauthorized participation. How would they react once they found out? What would Angie say? And what about Isabella? My mind was in disarray.

Then, like a beacon in my hazed mind, it dawned on me what I needed to do. There was no escaping further humiliation. My only option was to face it head on. I would have to admit fully to what I had done and why I did it. All I could do was to plead for forgiveness and take every ounce of shaming they had in store for me. And that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. If I had learnt one thing today, a part of me seemed to thrive from humiliation. All I could do was to let that budding side of me grow.

Excitement rushed through my body as I accepted my fate. Appeased to finally have made a conscious decision, I raised my head. Every step I took felt like an erotic mixture of humiliation, pride, and expectation.

My resolution to take whatever was coming to me was put to the test when the progression approached the base. Arms crossed, Isabella awaited us. I had felt discomposed in the strict woman's presence before the game started, but that was nothing compared to what I felt now, returning naked on a leash.

"Explain yourself!" Isabella demanded, her voice as stern as her eyes.

There was a murmur of confusion from the group of hunters and prey behind me. But those people were no longer my primary concern. It was obvious who controlled my fate.

"She wasn't meant to participate," Isabella continued, speaking to the hunters. "She was meant to be here as a medic. But apparently, she got bored. Did you know she would do something like this, Angie?"

My friend stuttered. "What? No, I... She..."

"No, it's all my fault," I said, my voice frail but resolute. "None of them are responsible for my actions."

I didn't have much control of this situation, but I could control at what level I surrendered to it. Paul still held the leash, but it was long enough for me to step over in front of Isabella. Not sure how else to demonstrate my compliance, I sunk to my knees.

"I'm sorry, I just couldn't help myself," I said, looking up at Isabella. "I didn't mean to, but I couldn't resist. I hope I haven't violated any of the rules or ruined the day for anyone else. Whatever you think is the appropriate action, I will accept it."

For a naked woman on her knees with a collar around her neck, I felt surprisingly emancipated. It was liberating to place my fate in the hands of others.

"Did she?" Isabella asked, turning to the men and four women behind me. "Did she break any rules or ruin the game for anyone?"

I looked over my shoulder and was meant by a mixture of sympathy and confusion. Only Charla scowled at her.

"She got me caught," the black woman said. "And once she did, it threw me off, and Daniel caught me a second time just before the horn signal."

Charla absentmindedly rubbed her ass.

"Well, that was long overdue," Isabella said, showing no compassion for Charla's tender ass.

"And it wasn't her fault you got caught," Daniel said. "I would have got you anyway."

Charla shook her head. "That's just bull..."

"That's enough," Isabella interrupted, raising her hand. "Does anyone have any reports of Laura breaking rules?"

After a moment of silence, Paul spoke up. "I caught her twice, and even if she hadn't read the rules before, she seemed to understand the spirit of the game. She is a natural."

The other hunters hummed in agreement.

"If I may, Isabella," Angie chimed in. "I know my friend here wasn't meant to play, but she still managed to lose. I for one would very much like to see her take the punishment the loser usually receives. She was quite judgmental about the whole thing before."

A part of me loathed Angie for tattling. She was right, of course. I had been disdainful, but the others didn't need to know that. Yet, I also felt that Angie was speaking in my support. The worst punishment I could think of was to be sent away in shame.

"Well, I suppose the banquet won't be much fun without the entertainment," Isabella said, sporting the hint of a pleased smirk. "I assume no one objects?"

Unsurprisingly, no one did.

"And what do you say?" Isabella asked, looking down at me.

"I will take any punishment you see fit."

Isabella looked amused. "Even without knowing what it entails?"

I nodded.

"Not this time," Isabella said. "This time you will know what you're agreeing to. Angie, you will fill her in on what her duties are. And if she refuses, you will take her place."

Like an empress, Isabella had given her verdict.

* * * *

Later that evening, we gathered in the large dining hall inside Isabella's mansion. The hunters wore suits and the prey fancy dresses. Except for me. I'd been given a uniform suitable for a servant. Given the erotic nature of the game, I had expected to be forced to wear something bawdier. It was a simple black dress with a white apron. Still, it signaled my position as subordinate to the rest of the group.

We were seated around a u-shaped table formation, with Isabella and Paul at the short end. Everyone was in a festive mood, chatting excitedly, but I was too nervous to engage. In between my duties serving food and drinks, I sat quietly in my seat at the far end. Every time Paul's eyes met mine, I blushed. His leash hung around an ornament on his backrest, reminding me of how I lost game. And of what was to come.

"Are you OK?" asked Angie, who was seated next to me. "You're barely touching your food."

"Yeah, I'm fine," I said, unconvincingly. "The dress is a bit tight though."

On purpose or not, I'd been given a size too small. The buttons struggled to hold the dress together over my breasts.

"It won't bother you for long," Angie said and sipped her drink, pretending her words didn't hold weight.

I fiddled nervously with the collar around my neck. "So, you did this last year?"

"Mhm. I lost the game and took the consequences. Just like you will, right?"

My eyes were drawn to an ottoman placed center stage between the tables. "And you enjoyed it?"

"Enjoy? It was the most humiliating thing I've ever done in my life. And the most exciting. You know how those things go together, right?"

"Maybe you want me to back out? Isabella said you'd take my place if I do."

Angie struck an uncharacteristically sadistic smirk. "I love you, but you were so fucking high and mighty before. I can't wait to watch you get punished. Besides, we both know you're not a quitter."

I nodded softly. Even if it was tempting to escape my ordeal, I knew I couldn't. I dragged myself into this, and the only way I could maintain some pride was to take the consequences.

My eyes briefly met Paul's. I quickly looked down, but he kept staring at me, and I raised my eyes again. Strangely, I found his unwavering gaze comforting—like a lighthouse to keep me on course. This wasn't what I had hoped for in terms of a Valentine's date with him, but at least I was grateful he'd caught me.

"Time for dessert!" Isabella said and clapped her hands.

That command would have been inconsequential during most dinners. Of course, there should be dessert. But on this banquet, it held a deeper meaning, and everyone knew it. The room silenced, and their eyes fell on me. I felt myself flush.

Yet, I didn't falter. As if on autopilot, I stood and proceeded to clear the tables. Returning a moment later from the kitchen, I carried a tray with desserts. The expectant eyes that followed my steps might to an outsider have looked like a hunger for creme brulee, but I knew very well they were eager for something very different. I put the tray down and walked into the center of the u-shaped table formation.

I paused, giving myself one last chance to back out. Wouldn't that be the wisest decision after all? I'd let myself get swept into this game—wouldn't I just make things worse by going further? But it took only a brief glance at Paul to know I had to go through with this. My hands felt surprisingly steady as I reached for the knot of my apron in my back. With a light tug, it came undone. In itself, it was insignificant to remove an apron, but I felt a surge of excitement as I watched it fall. It had begun.

I removed my shoes and rolled down my knee-high stockings. Slowly, I proceeded to unbutton my dress, starting at the collar and working my way down. The room was dead silent, and I could hear the dull pops of released tension as the buttons over my chest came undone. I stood straight as the dress fell from my shoulders.

I wondered briefly why I had packed these particular bra and panties. I'd bought this white lace set on whim nearly a year before but never found a good time to wear them. Until now. Perhaps my subconscious had hoped to end up in a situation where Paul would get to see me in them. Even so, his eyes were not the only ones drinking me in. I blushed as I realized my nipples were visible through the sheer material of my bra. Still, I was expected to offer more than a concealed view.

Reaching for the bra clasp in the front, I tried to convince myself it wasn't a big deal to strip like this. These same people had seen me naked just hours before. Yet, it seemed more embarrassing to undress myself. Now I had to actively show them how willing I was to obey. With a deep breath, I unclasped the bra and let my breasts sway free. Nine pair of eyes stared at me, and embarrassment flushed over me. And with it followed that sweet, submissive excitement I was finding increasingly addictive.

My breath heaved as I reached for my underwear. A part of me knew this was crazy. I was a strong-willed woman and a respected MD. Why would I strip before an audience merely because I'd been told to? In front of my crush, nonetheless! But every reason I could think of to stop was an even stronger reason to experience the humiliation of proceeding. Bending at the hip, I pulled my panties down.

Between the game and the dinner, we'd been given time to groom ourselves, which was well needed after running around for hours. Unlike what I'd normally do, I had decided to remove all my pubes. I shivered with shameful excitement as the open air caressed my naked cunt. My complete nakedness went beyond exposing my body; I was revealing my unconditional obedience. No one commented on it, but I could tell from numerous pleased smirks that the notion wasn't lost on them.

As instructed, I stepped over to the dessert tray I'd put down earlier. Without a stitch of clothing, I proceeded with my waiting duties. Excitement and embarrassment made my knees weak, and when I finally made my way to Paul, I was grateful my instructions were to kneel by his side. He ate his dessert slowly, frequently glancing down at me with an imperious gaze that I found both tormenting and comforting.

"It's time," Isabella said.

Paul nodded, and as he reached for the leash, I tilted my head to the side. The clicking sound as he attached the leash to my collar sent expectant thrills through my body. The notion of being his pet was strengthened as he stood and started walking. Shame rushed through me as I followed on my hands and knees. I wasn't just demonstrating my instinctive desire for submission to a room of onlookers, including my best friend and the man I'd long had a crush on. I was demonstrating it beyond doubt to myself. A large part of me was shocked by my disgraceful behavior. Crawling around naked on the floor was unfitting for a woman of my stature. Yet, the part of me that desired humiliation thrived from my own judgmental thoughts.

Turning the corner, I assumed Paul would lead me into the center where the ottoman waited for me. But he was in no rush. He continued his slow parade around the seated onlookers, making sure they all got a good look at his pet. Passing Isabella, the dominant woman pressed at the small of my back, inciting an arching posture. I obeyed, knowing full well that I was on explicit display as I crawled behind Paul.

When he finally paraded me into the center stage, he ceremoniously led me to the ottoman. Like a show dog, I climbed on top, remaining on my hands and knees. He removed the leash but left the collar around my neck.

Ever since Paul' captured me the second time during the game, I'd felt deprived. Finally, it was time. I kept my arching posture, instinctively begging for what I craved. Yet, Paul wasn't swayed so easily. A master for suspense, he gently stroked my head and let his hand continue down my back, approaching but never quite reaching my ass. Unable to meet my spectators' eyes, I stared at the ground.

Then, as startling as it was anticipated, I felt the now familiar force of his hand on my ass. I gasped and jerked forward with the impact, but quickly resumed my position. Paul's hand returned over and over, pausing briefly between each slap to make sure I fully experienced each of them.

Fifty slaps. That's what my captor was entitled to—just like during the hunt. I'd thought it wouldn't be much difference from the ones I'd received during the game, but there was one major difference. I now had an audience. Naked in a room full of dressed onlookers, the erotic humiliation was mind-blowing.

Paul paused after around ten slaps. Yet, his hands barely left my body. He caressed my curves, as if apprising his possession. His soft touch was a soothing contrast to his slaps, but I felt equally dominated.

When he suddenly resumed to spanking, the sharp sting made me falter. My breasts swayed heavily with my movement, and the sight seemed to inspire him. The hand that wasn't busy administering my spanking traveled up my body, moving over my hip and down to caress my belly. He paused his spanks, as if fully concentrating on the hand advancing onto my breast.

I was very much aware of how my large breasts—crowned with big nipples that seemed to have a mind of their own—fascinated many men. The attention was sometimes a nuisance but enjoyable when it came from the right direction. Paul's fascination was certainly welcome, but I never expected the first time he fondled my tits would be under such circumstances.

Still greedily groping me, Paul resumed his spanking. I was shocked to realize a moan escaped my mouth. A voice in the back of my mind screamed that I shouldn't be enjoying this surreal ordeal. Yet, I couldn't deny how natural the submissive mindset was to me. I focused on his dominating hands with my eyes closed.