The Prey and Her Hunter (Cann) by Repentant Lurker

This is a story I wrote after a chat I had with a Girl on SecondLife (MMOG [url=http://www.secondlife.com:joilu9bd]www.secondlife.com[/url:joilu9bd]). We sketched out this senario for a fantasy and I went away and wrote it. This is the first story I have written specifically for someone and the first in the second person. A reader on DGF was dissapointed by the apparent lack of Hunting as suggested by the title. I leave it to your imagination as to how long the hunter has been stalking his prey.

[b:joilu9bd]The Prey and Her Hunter [/b:joilu9bd]

‘He really can be such an asshole sometimes’ You fume as you gun your little car down the freeway. It dawns on you that you don’t even know where you’re going. You were so angry you just threw a few clothes in a bag and left. You think about going home for a moment but just thinking about him again makes your blood boil. Your parents? No you can’t be doing with the agro. You need some peace and quiet, somewhere to clear your head. Your folks’ cabin in Colorado, ok it’s a long drive but you can probably just about get there. You still have the spare keys on your fob from when you went with your friends earlier in the year. Spend a few days there, go for some nice walks in the mountains, calm down and get things into perspective. Just knowing where you’re going seems to lighten your mood. You squirm in your seat a little, stretching your shoulders and set off down the long road to the Rockies. It’s a little after midnight when you arrive, shattered from the long drive. You fumble around in the dark for a bit until you get the power switched on, then go out and bring in your things from the car. You drop the little bag of supplies you bought from a gas station on the kitchen counter and stagger off to bed. You peel the hot sticky clothes you’ve been driving in from your body and flop in to the warm cosy bed, curling up under the duvet. The familiar pine smell of the cabin walls evokes pleasant childhood memories and you slip comfortably into a deep sleep.

You wake as the early morning sunshine streams through the window, bathing your beautiful face in its warm glow. You smile to yourself remembering how even as a teenager when mornings were usually, at best, met with grim distain; you always found it easy to wake here. Pulling off the covers you walk naked to the bathroom enjoying the feel of the cool morning air on your skin. You pour a deep bath and relax in the warm water, easing the last aches of the previous night’s drive from your body. You soap yourself slowly, enjoying the sensation of the foamy lather as you run your hands over the smooth curves of your body. You decide that what you need to shake the awful argument out of your mind is a good long hike through the mountain forests. A route starts to form in your mind as you mentally pick your way through the familiar trails. Smiling to yourself you ease yourself back shivering slightly as the cool wall of the bath touches your skin, you let yourself sink down till the water laps at your full firm breasts and allow the fragrant oils you added to the water to do their work.

By late morning you are well into the forest. The trails are almost empty as the holiday season ended a few weeks ago. It’s been over an hour since you passed anyone. The walk is just what you needed, the niggling ruminations about yesterday that lingered for the first couple of miles soon drifted away to be replaced by quiet contemplation of the beautiful scenery. You reach a crossroads in the trail and realise that you’ve never taken one of the paths. You check to see where it goes on the map and after realising that it would link back up with the route you’d planned after a few miles you decide to take it; the steep contours of the new trail balancing well with the slight reduction on the overall length of the walk. You strike out up the unknown path into a densely wooded area. After an hour or so the steep incline starts to take its toll and you find yourself breathing more heavily. When you reach a sun-drenched clearing you decide that its time for lunch and sit yourself down on a handy fallen tree trunk to eat. As you take the first bite of your sandwich you see a man coming down the path towards you and feel a slight sense of irritation that the tranquillity of the moment has been disturbed. When he reaches the clearing he smiles, his handsome face crinkles with gentle warmth. “Hello” He says. “It looks like you picked a nice spot for lunch. Do you mind if I join you?” His voice sounds English, not the clipped theatrical form of some Hollywood villain but a pleasant regional accent. You study his figure. He’s tall and although not particularly stocky you can see that his light clothing clings to a muscular frame. A rifle is slung over his shoulder; it doesn’t concern you nearly half of the people that use the trails are hunters. His warm grin is addictive and you shrug off your initial annoyance, smiling in reply saying “Of course” and shuffle up on the tree stump to make space. He leans the gun up against the stump and sits down beside you rooting into his rucksack for his lunch. You notice the rifle is loaded with tranquiliser darts and smile to yourself presuming him to be some sort of conservationist. “So are you English?” You ask feeling it’s a bit of a lame question but wanting to break the silence. He nod’s “Originally, but I’ve been travelling for a long time, so long that I don’t quite no where to call home.” he grins, his face lighting up even more, you notice a playful twinkle in his eye. “I suppose I’m a man of the world” he says in a deep voice making a show of putting his hands on his hips and puffing out his chest. You giggle, captivated by his charismatic charm. He falls silent for a moment and you feel the need to say something, again “It’s a lovely day for a walk isn’t it” you blurt cringing inwardly at the banality of the comment. “It is at the moment” he says “but I’m not sure it’ll hold. I can feel a storm coming.” For the first time you notice a slight edge to the cool breeze and looking to the west you can see the clouds beginning to build. You curse yourself for not having packed any wet weather gear, all that you have in your pack is a little windcheater and a sweater for when you get higher up and out of the trees. The weather still seems a long way off though and you shrug to yourself and continue eating. As you chat to the stranger he continues to make little self depreciating jokes and you warm to him quickly, glad of his company, enjoying the feel a good giggle. He tells you he’s a professional huntsman and is here searching for a challenging type of game. When you ask what he seems a little evasive so you decide not to press the issue, wondering if your earlier assumption that he’s a conservationist may be quite wide of the mark.

A chill hits you and you look up suddenly realising how dark it’s become. The weather has closed in much quicker than you expected and within moments fat spots of rain are splattering on the dusty ground of the clearing. The intensity increases rapidly and by the time you have pulled on your flimsy coat the pair of you are caught in a torrential downpour; a strong wind starts to whip through the trees. “Bloody hell this is heavy” your companion yells. You can hardly hear him through the noise of the storm. “I passed a cabin just up the hill” he shouts. “Shall we see if we can shelter there” You nod in reply and grabbing your bag you follow him as he strides off up the path, the gale becomes even stronger and you find yourself having to use him as a moving windbreak. He sees that you are struggling and does his best to help you along. By the time you reach the cabin both of you are soaked to the skin and the rain has become mixed with blisteringly cold hail. He tries the door to find that it is locked. He looks around to see if there is an easy way in without having to break a window, before noticing a hairclip buried in your sodden reddish locks. “Do you mind if I borrow this” he asks removing it carefully. You nod, hugging your body to the doorframe in an attempt to get out of icy torture. You watch as he bends it slightly and works at the lock, surprisingly it takes no time at all before the lock springs open “Told you I was a man of the world” he quipped before the two of you eagerly rush though the door closing it behind you as quickly as possible to seal yourself from the terrible storm.

The cabin seems to be a just a single room, but is well appointed despite its remoteness. In the centre of the room is a large open fireplace, with mounts for a large solid looking spit that leans up against it. It looks big enough to roast a large fully grown stag should the opportunity arise. Above the fire a solid stone chimney breast rests on two stout oak beams in the roof. In one corner there is a small kitchen area with a sink set into a natural oak work surface, the lack of any taps show’s there’s no running water. The kitchen cupboards are simple and like the worktops made of solid oak, one of the doors is slightly ajar and shows they are well stocked with tinned food, condiments and dry goods. On the other side of the fireplace is a comfortable looking armless natural leather sofa complimented by a long low coffee table, again made of stout hardwood. The wood of the cabin walls and furniture is complimented nicely by the steely grey stone of the fireplace and chimney. The floor is also made of natural stone tiles and covered in a large deer-hide rug. Apart from the rug there are none of the usual trophies that adorn a hunter’s cabin. The only other furnishings are some candle holders, an empty gun-rack by the door and a well stocked wine rack in the corner opposite the kitchen.

Almost as soon as you escape from the storm the hunter starts to pull off his wet clothes, seemingly oblivious of you presence. He removes everything, revealing a tanned hard toned body. Although you try not to look you cannot help but notice the size of his thick penis hanging a good way down the length of his thigh. He looks up at you and says casually “You should strip too; otherwise you’ll catch your death. Don’t worry, there’s lots of dry wood there. I’ll get the fire going and our clothes will soon dry.” He steps over to the fire and kneels beside it taking some kindling from the pile stacked up against it. You cannot help but admire his muscular frame watching the way his shoulders ripple as he moves. Despite your reluctance you realise he is right about taking off your wet clothes, you are shivering with cold and can feel you teeth chattering. You start to undress tentatively, peeling the layers from your body. There is nothing in the room to hide yourself but your new acquaintance seems to be focusing his attention on the fire. When you have reached your underwear you wonder what to do next. The idea of being naked in front of a complete stranger makes your toes curl with embarrassment but your head tells you that you need to rid yourself of the icy cold garments before you catch a chill. You gingerly remove your bra, freeing your luscious breasts from their frosty restraint, painfully aware that your nipples are proudly erect. Even more timidly you step out of your sodden panties revealing the light reddish fuzz of your neatly trimmed muff. You cover yourself with your hands but in a way that serves to make you feel more naked. Your companion looks up briefly and smiles sympathetically he rises and walks over to the kitchen area, picking up a small hand towel “Here, use this to dry your hair.” He advises and tosses it too you. You catch it instinctively aware of your breasts jiggling as you move forward. You catch a glimpse of a slight smile playing on his lips as he turns back to the fire it doesn’t appear lecherous though and you find yourself grinning to yourself at the ridiculousness of the situation. As the fire starts to catch you remember the sweater in your rucksack. You delve inside hopefully and are heartened to find it still dry. You eagerly pull the soft jumper over your head. Unfortunately it only reaches your waist so you have to live with your sweet little muff remaining on display. The hunter turns round and cannot help but smile broadly “Very fetching” he quips, “I thought about one of my spare socks myself but decided against it” the two of you break out laughing dissolving the nervous tension in an instant.

“Why don’t you have a look in the kitchen and see if there’s anything to make a hot drink” he suggests, while continuing to stoke the fire. You cross the room and rifle through the cupboards. “There’s no tea I’m afraid” You say in you best attempt at an English accent “But we do have coffee”. The Englishman smiles and affecting a fake posh accent replies “Oh well I suppose I can lower myself down to your tawdry American level if I must.” The two of you giggle once more. You find several bottles of water in the cupboard and take one to him along with the coffee. He prepares the brew in a kettle and hangs it on a hook that can be lowered from the chimney breast. Walking over to the wine rack he says “It’ll be quite bitter made in the can like that. How about we sweeten it with a little of this” He says showing you a bottle of Rémy Martin. You smile in agreement glad at the prospect of anything that will warm your insides. “Sit yourself down” he says I’ll bring it over when it’s ready. You walk over to the couch and settle yourself into the comfy seat. With the roaring fire now beneath it, it doesn’t take long before the coffee had brewed. Your companion pours it into two mugs from the kitchen and adds a generous tot of brandy to each. He comes over and sits beside you. You smile at each other as you cup the mugs in your hands, savouring their warmth. “I’m so lucky” you say. “It was really silly coming up here so unprepared. If you hadn’t come along I’d have had never of known about this cabin. I’d have probably tried to go down. I’d have been trapped in the storm for ages, who knows what could have happened. No one knows I’m here so it’s not like anyone would come looking for me if I got into trouble.” You look into his eyes gratefully, taking a sip of the coffee, enjoying the warmth from the brandy as it slips down your throat. “Well its luck that our paths crossed isn’t it” He says touching your bare knee and tracing his fingers lightly over your skin. His touch seems to send tiny little tremors of electricity through your body. You become more aware of your near nakedness, of his nakedness. You can feel your eyes roving over the contours of his body, occasionally drifting towards his impressive crotch. You feel apprehensive, but it’s mixed with arousal blossoming in your loins. As if sensing your nervousness the he draws away slightly and asks “Do you want another coffee?” then adds “Or shall we just go for straight brandy?” flashing you with another of his mischievous grins. You feel that your nerves could do with some fortification so opt for the straight liquor. He pours the drinks “That’ll bring the colour out in your cheeks” He quips “Not that that pretty face of your’s could look much lovelier” He smiles but his tone is sincere, you wriggle inside at the compliment, delighted yet uncomfortable, unsure how to respond. You feel your cheeks reddening “See told you” He declares grinning widely, that adorable glint in his eyes twinkling. Your discomfort evaporates and you giggle taking a sip of the fragrant Cognac. Imperceptibly the space between you starts to shrink. The length of your eye contact grows and you begin to relax in each others company.

You sense a flash behind you and suddenly a huge clap of thunder tears through the sky. You gasp in fear and involuntarily clutch the hunter, he envelops you in a warm embrace holding you gently, he whispers reassurance into your ear, rubs your back soothingly. You feel his hand through the soft fabric of the sweater brushing over you as if to sweep away your fear. “You make me feel so safe” you find your self saying, the words slipping out as the thought reached your mind. He smiles in response stroking you gently, his other hand drifts over the smooth skin of your thigh ever so slowly travelling in the direction of your unprotected sex. You feel your heart beating in your chest, aware that your pliant breasts are pressed against his chest, your delicate nipples still hard and erect. He gently brushes a lock of hair from your face and your eyes meet. Your faces are close, gazing into each other’s eyes you can feel his hot breath on your lips. The image of your boyfriend pops into your mind and you suddenly feel guilty, turning away. Again he responds kindly to your unease. He sits back and raises the brandy bottle. “I think if we drink much more of this we’ll have difficulty walking out of here whether there’s a storm or not.” He jokes “how about I go get us a bottle of wine instead”. You smile and nod in agreement and he rises to cross the room. As soon as he leaves you feel the emptiness beside you a sense of loneliness overcomes you, the storm suddenly frightening once again. You watch as he draws a bottle from the rack “Nice, Burgundy.” He says, showing you the label. He pauses momentarily by the gun-rack to fiddle with his rifle you can’t see what he is doing as his body shields your view. You presume he is checking it’s on safety or wiping some moisture from its mechanism. He uncorks the wine in the kitchen and returns with two glasses which he fills with the tawny pinot noir. He offers you one of the glasses. “Cheers” he says as he sits down beside you, raising his glass to yours, the space between you disappears at the soft ring of the crystal. You feel safe again. You draw in the complex aroma of the wine sipping it slowly, your eyes become drawn to his, without looking away you place the glass down on the table. He does likewise. You are in each others arms, your fingers explore the muscles of his back; his run over your spine sending shivers of excitement in their wake. He draws you to him, you go willingly, the gentle curves of your body delight in the feeling as you press up against him. His face moves towards yours, your lips draw closer; touch. He kisses you tenderly, you respond, breathing hard, your mouth slightly parted. His hand slips downwards, you sigh as it moves from the fabric of your top to the sensitive skin of your buttocks. The kiss grows deeper and you part your mouth wider, starting to search for his tongue with your own.

Suddenly you feel a sharp prick to your bottom. You startle looking down to see he has stabbed you with one of his tranquiliser darts. Your first thought is puzzlement at how he managed to hide it from you given his nakedness, rapidly followed by a deep sense of shock and betrayal. “Don’t worry” He reassures “It won’t knock you out. Just help you relax and stop you from struggling.” You are confused you don’t understand, why did he drug you when you were giving yourself to him so willingly? “Why?” you ask, your voice hurt and trembling. “I am a Hunter, You are my Prey” he responds simply. “What?” you say quietly still not comprehending “You are so beautiful, you look so delicious so ripe I just have to have you” He confesses. You are still so desperately confused, utterly distraught at the turn of events; you can feel a fog passing over you, sense the blood pulsing in your veins. You want to run but know there is nowhere to go, the storm still rages outside. Even if you could find sanctuary your limbs feel heavy you feel trapped by your body unable to leave the gently embrace that suddenly feels so deadly. You feel him pulling your top up over your shoulders, you want to fight but can’t you simply loll there as he frees it from your limp arms. He feels your breasts tenderly his fingers gently tease the turgid buds of your nipples. A low whine escapes from your lips, a mixture of fear and arousal, he strokes your brow comfortingly, nothing has changed in his demeanour, he still seems so kind, so gentle. Yet he drugged you, weakened you, what was a loving embrace now feels like total domination. Despite that is touch still brings pleasure. You feel your arousal growing, moistness seeping from between your thighs. He takes one of your nipples in your mouth, the moan that escapes your lips this time is purely one of pleasure it courses through your body. His head moves back up towards yours you cannot help but search for his lips. You kiss deeply, passionately, tongues intertwined. Your mind battles with itself one side abhorrent the other driven by desire. You can feel his huge member pressing against you, hardening rapidly, the thick sticky head presses against the softness of your belly. You gasp, fighting your weakened state to pull him closer, your position shifts and your moist slit rubs against the shaft of his prick. “Yes” you feel yourself sigh. The battle in your mind has been won desire and passion have vanquished all enemies. Your pussy aches for penetration you struggle to raise yourself, high enough to lower sex on his rampant phallus. You feel your lips start to part as his bulbous cock-head delves at your slit. You emit a deep groan of fulfilment which tails off into a whimper as you feel yourself being lowered back gently onto the couch.

He stands up leaving you there. The betrayal you feel now is stronger than when you saw the bright yellow flight of the dart. He leans down fondling your breast, that glint shining in his eye, the ever-present smile playing on his lips. “Don’t worry honey, I’ll be back soon, I just need to sort something out.” His voice is calm, reassuring, he stands up, mischievously dipping the tip of his finger into your slit as he does so “Feel free to entertain yourself while I’m away” he offers cynically. You scowl at him; the first time one of his jests has felt barbed yet nevertheless you find your hand slipping between your thighs desperate to quench some of the pains of your deep seated arousal. You watch him walk across the room, his huge member standing proud. He potters around in the kitchen. You can’t see quite what he’s doing, he takes a mixing bowl and starts adding things from the cupboards, you notice him add some oil, honey and a generous slug of brandy from the bottle. There are other things too you can’t see what they are from here. He returns, seeing the look of confusion on your face he explains “It’s a glaze. Olive oil, honey, brandy, mustard, cinnamon, a touch of white wine vinegar a little bit of chilli sauce and salt and pepper” He dabs a finger in and brings it to your lips so you can taste it. It’s lovely, the blend of sweet and sour is perfect and the heat the mustard and chilli lingers pleasantly on your tongue. “This should compliment your natural flavour beautifully” Your face creases in confusion again what does he mean your flavour? This time he appears to pay no heed. Placing the bowl carefully on the couch and after moving the wine glasses out of the way he leans over to pick you up and lay you back down on the coffee table. Although you see his muscles tensing he appears to lift you effortlessly, you can’t help but be impressed by his strength. He leaves you lying there for a moment and returns with the bottle of oil and a sharp knife. You gasp in fear, wondering what he has in store for you. “Don’t worry” he says, seeing your expression. “It won’t hurt”. He sits on the couch and drizzles a little oil over your muff. You squeak in surprise. He chuckles at your reaction and starts to move the knife towards your pussy. You eyes widen with horror and you feebly try and grab him. He blocks your meagre defences with no trouble and lowers the knife to your sex. Your eyes are still filled with terror, he strokes your brow and whispers reassurance scraping the knife gently along your skin. You realise he’s shaving your little fuzz of pubic hair, you protest weakly but he shushes you. You concede easily, relieved that your initial terror was unfounded. He puts the knife down and picks up the bowl, pouring a slug of the syrupy mixture over your tits. You sigh in pleasure as he starts to spread it over your skin, working it into your soft sensitive tissue. He covers your chest and belly you moan as his hands run over your curves. You still don’t understand why he is coating you like this, or why he felt the need to drug you to do it but are past caring, you close your eyes fantasising about the time when he comes to lick it off. You feel his hands working the glaze into your arms, and then moving down your body, massaging your thighs your calves. You squirm slightly beneath his touch, the ingredients of the glaze cause your skin to tingle your erogenous zones smoulder pleasantly. He coats your feet and your wriggling intensifies he chuckles as he grasps them to keep them under control, you giggle in return at the ticklish sensation. He finishes and you open your eyes to see him looking down at you lovingly. He bend’s down, giving you a sweet kiss before prompting you to roll on your front. You do so, with his help, and he starts to rub the mixture into your back, lingering over your succulent buttocks and thighs. He rolls you back, gives you one of his cheekiest grins and dribbles the last of the contents of the bowl over your clean shaven pussy. He starts to rub it in, keeping his eyes fixed on yours, smiling as always. His fingers move teasingly at first working the glaze into the newly bald skin, gradually they start playing round the edge of your lips circling your eager snatch. You shudder in frustration looking up at him pleadingly. His grin widens and he moves inwards stroking your labia. Your pussy spasms in reaction to the heat of the mix, but the flow of your juices soon cools it down. You realise just how desperate you are when you can’t help but start thrusting your pelvis towards his hand. He chuckles and ends your torment, sliding his fingers deep within you, working your clit with his thumb. “Uuugghh” You groan bucking up towards him. Your body shuddering once more, he works the glaze into your inner recesses in a workmanlike fashion as if oblivious to the intensity of the pleasure it elicits.

The Hunter withdraws his hands, your eyes flash briefly with anger. He laughs once more at your response and leans down to kiss you hungrily. Gathering you in his arms he lifts you from the table and pulls you up onto his lap. You look into his eyes once more, fearful that this is another tease desperate to sate your desire. He answers your wordless plea by pulling you close and planting his mouth over yours. You clasp him with all the strength your weakened body can muster returning his kiss passionately. He rolls the pair of you over so that he is above you, parting your legs wide. You feel the head if his cock beginning to part your lips then he thrusts forward sliding his entire length into you. You cry with pleasure as he fills you completely deeper than ever before. If you had your usual strength you would have clawed at his back such was the wave of pleasure that his you with that first thrust, as it is your hands flop weakly against him. He repositions you slightly, to gain better balance, and starts to pump his massive member in and out of your pulsating vagina. You climax by the third stroke, your body coursing with electrical euphoria. He pounds on relentlessly keeping his eyes fixed on yours his grin for once disappearing to be replaced by an expression of rapt concentration. The waves of pleasure continue to flow through you as his cock drives in and out. He suckles your breast, causing you to cum even harder, your body responds involuntarily in a way you couldn’t manage before writhing upwards to meet him, maximising your gratification. You have no idea how long it lasts, it seems like an eternity of ecstasy. Eventually he jerks and you feel the flow of his hot cum pouring into your pussy. He collapses on top of you and you both lie panting mutually exhausted by your passion. He moves up the couch a bit to allow him to kiss you tenderly while stroking your hair. You lie there for some time, petting softly. He tells you how beautiful you are, how enchanting, how he can’t believe how perfect you are. You look into his eyes to see an expression that looks like sorrow. He gives you the softest of kisses, touching your lips lightly for a long time.

You frown as he moves from you; watching him as he walks over to his pack. He takes out what looks to be a ball of thick twine. He moves over to the fireplace and picks up the long steel spit, bringing it towards you. You cry out in horror as you finally realise his true intensions. “You can’t” You scream “Please no, how could you!” You don’t know what horrifies you most. The realisation the Hunter intends to eat you or the fact that you suddenly realise you could love him. The feeling of betrayal tears at your heart strings. You sob heavily. He sits down beside you cradling you tenderly shushing you, stroking you, kissing your forehead. He moves his hand to fondle your breast. Looking into your eyes he repeats his earlier phrase “I am Hunter, you are my prey” He looks at you kindly meeting your wide eyed gaze. “You will be, without doubt the most perfect meal I will ever consume” he says his voice full of sincerity. Despite the chilling horror of his words you find them strangely comforting. He holds you like that for a moment, quietly, absently fondling your breast with one hand stoking your back with the other. “The drug will alleviate most of the pain” he says after the pause. The frank statement brings you out of your reverie and you open your mouth to protest he quiets you with a kiss. Gently he pushes you down onto the couch and lies you on your side. He places the spit behind you and moves the stabiliser about a third of the way up. He starts to bind your ankles wrapping the wine round them to tie them together first then lashing them tightly onto the spit. You find yourself watching quietly so petrified you doubt you’d be able to move even without the drug. Even now though he’s gentle, ensuring his knots are tight yet not digging the rope into the flesh unnecessarily, it dawns on you that this might not be entirely for your benefit and bizarrely this causes you to giggle. He looks at you curiously, grinning again and bends down to give you a little kiss, you find yourself smiling back, the fear diminishing. He continues binding you, taking a second length of twine and wrapping it round the soft belly of your midriff between your navel and your glistening pubic mound, positioning you so that your legs are bent and slightly parted. He gets you to breath in deeply before tightening the rope you gasp at the constriction, remembering what it felt like to wear a corset once at a fancy dress ball. Next he binds you at your shoulders, lashing them down tightly ensuring your neck isn’t restricted. Lastly he binds your wrists and lashes them to the spit just below your buttocks, you realise that if you wanted you’d just about be able to play with your pussy. You’re surprised to feel yourself growing aroused again.

The Hunter stands back, admiring his work. He looks down at you kindly. You smile back. You notice his cock rising; your sense of arousal grows. “Can we?” you ask simply. He kneels down and kisses you in response then moves down your body, treating it with a kind of reverence, laying multiple soft kisses on your luscious full breasts, rolling his tongue round your perky nipples, showering light kisses on your belly and the insides of your thighs. He gives you a wide grin and moves between your legs, lapping at our sex and nibbling the tops of your fingers playfully. When your moans become desperate he rises and repositions you on the couch so he can mount you easily. You groan as his cock slides into you. He cradles your head gently and kisses you tenderly. This time the sex is less frenzied he glides in and out of you, circling his hips slowly pushing as deep as he can within you each time. Gradually his tempo increases, your kisses become more passionate; your body starts to tug against the bonds on the spit. You climax together, your body shuddering frantically as he shoots his load into your womb. He lies for a while resting his head against your’s, his cock softening inside you. You share a kiss, long and lingering before he rises. He sits beside you for a moment, fondling your breasts absently again a far away look in his eyes before reaching down to slide the stabiliser into position. You twitch as the cold steel enters your pussy. He slides it up slowly, nice and deep. “You really are going to eat me” you say, it’s a statement, not a question. There is no fear in your voice anymore; you’ve accepted your fate. He nods and moves up to give you a goodbye kiss. It lasts a log time, your tongues become deeply entwined; one of his hands strokes your hair the other roves over your body. When your lips part he looks deep into your eyes “You really are beautiful, perfect in every way, I know you’ll taste delicious.” You smile in reply he bends down and gives you one final peck. He stands, grasping the spit above your head and below the stabiliser lifting you easily off of the sofa.

The Hunter carries you across the room towards the fire. Pausing for a moment to shit his weight he swings you out over the fire placing the spit carefully into its mounts. You lie on your back feeling the heat of the fire on your skin. It’s as hot as the coals of a sauna and the heat gradually starts to intensify. He attaches the crank to the end by your head and sits on the edge of the fire pit. He looks into your eyes, smiling kindly. You attempt to smile back but are biting your lip slightly as the heat starts to build even further. He starts to turn the crank and you revolve over the fire, even though your head isn’t over the flames you are forced to close your eyes when facing the fire. Your nipples and pussy tingle in the intensity of the rising temperature you feel a strange mix of pleasure and pain. When the Hunter rotates you back up again he asks how you feel “Ok, I guess, It hurts but I can bear it and in a way it feels kind of nice” He smiles, “The drug will help that way, but part of it is within you. A woman like you was born to be consumed I knew it when I first laid eyes on you.” He rotates you back round again telling you just how beautiful you look on the spit. How the reflection of the fire on your glistening skin compliments your auburn hair. The heat continues to build and with it the pain but the pleasure you’re feeling also increases. You become more aware of the shaft in your pussy. The hunter has left just enough slack in your bonds to allow you to move against it slightly so it rubs on your clit; you stretch out your fingers and slip a couple into the base of your pussy. As you revolve round you see the hunter stroking his cock clearly aroused by the sight of you cooking. You raise your head to look down your body and are surprised at how desirable you look. The glaze has coloured tanning your skin deeply, a sheen of sweat glistens all over your body and you see what he meant about the reflection of the fire, it seems as if you are glowing. You feel slightly woozy; the pain seems to have stopped building but your pleasure increases you start to wriggle on the spit more urgently. You see that the Hunter is also stroking himself faster he gazes at you adoringly, captivated by your beauty. You bite your lip again this time not because of the pain, testing your bonds trying to slide your fingers deeper. After a few more revolutions you are almost there. The Hunter looks down at you lovingly. He picks up a meat fork and prods your breast. Clear juices spring forth and run down the valley of your cleavage, welling up in your navel. A delightful heady aroma wafts up and you cum hard as you realise it is the smell of your own meat cooking. You are very dizzy now. You have a vague realisation that you’ve stopped turning. You look to the side and see that the Hunter standing, stroking his cock in front of your mouth. He places the tip to your lips and you part them happily, licking salty head enthusiastically. He pushes in further and you suck hungrily running your tongue skilfully round the thick shaft. He squeezes your breast and you feel the juices running more freely. He sighs heavily ejaculating into your mouth spraying his cum down your throat before he pulls back and you eagerly lick the remains of the cum from the head. He smiles down at you and starts to turn you once more. Your head is swimming now. Your body feels strangely numb. You have no idea how long anything lasts you’re just dimly aware of the revolutions, you feel it coming to a stop. You are so dizzy you can barely open your eyes. You see the Hunter is holding a knife he reaches down with it and when he brings it back up a thin slice of meat hangs from the blade. Your flesh! He places it into his mouth and you see him savouring the flavour, eyes closed; a blissful expression on his face. “Delightful. Perfect. Just as I said you’d be.” He says when he opens his eyes to see you looking. You smile weakly and look down as he takes another cut. He is slicing from the side swell of your breast. You find it strange that you feel nothing physically; your breasts usually so sensitive. At the same time there is a curious emotional twinge as you see the consumption of your body begin. He raises the second slice to your mouth, poking it between your parted lips. At first you are disgusted but then the flavour hits you. You realise that you do indeed taste delicious; a deep sense of satisfaction overwhelms you. The hunter starts turning the crank again. You watch him for a while as you rotate until you haven’t the strength to keep your eyes open any longer. They close for the final time. A myriad of thoughts enter mind, recollection of past events, memories of people and places, the images blend into a general feeling of contentment and pleasure. Your last concrete thought is that the Hunter will never in his life experience anything that comes close to you. You know for certain that you are indeed the perfect meal. You slip into eternal darkness comforted by that fact.