The Hunt - Chapter 1

“Come on, man! It’ll be fun!” Chris had said. “Just a week away from it all. Out in the great outdoors. Enjoying the thrill of the hunt. It’ll be super relaxing!”

Well it wasn’t relaxing so far.

Six guys crammed into a 1980-something pickup, with me sandwiched in between a guy named Cletus and Jim-Bob in the front seat as we barreled down the highway wasn’t exactly my idea of ‘relaxing’.

“So yer tellin’ me you ne’er been huntin’ before?” Cletus said. Giving the hand that wasn’t on the steering wheel a break from scratching the potbelly that was hanging out of his camo shirt, and reaching between my legs. He grabbed the giant cup from the holder, brought it to his lips, and spat brown gunk that had built up from the dip he had in. Wiping (some of) the residue from his lips and placing the disgusting container back in the cup holder.

“Nope. Never been. Always wanted to, though...” I lied.

“How you live in Texas an’ ain’t ne’er been huntin’?” Jim-Bob asked in sheer disbelief.

“I-i dunno.” I stammered. “Just never had the chance to, I guess. Plus I...feel kind of bad for them you know?”

They all laughed as if I'd told the best joke they’d heard all year.

“Feels bad for ‘em!”

“You some kinda yuppie boy or summtin’?”

“Ha!”

They guffawed. I could even hear Chris laughing awkwardly behind me.

“Lemme tell you somethin’ boy!” Cletus said, puttin’ his arm on my shoulder as we turned onto a bumpy dirt road. The dip cup splattering between my legs.

“Them there are animals. When Gawd put dem on dis Earth he did it for us to enjoy, you unnerstand?? And they may squeal and whine an’ alla dat, but deep down? They like it.” He let those words hang as if he’d said something truly meaningful. “That’s why we’re the Alphas of the food chain! As Nature intended.” The others all grunted and nodded in agreement.

“We’re here.” Chris said for the party, as if the giant archway we were passing through that read Ryder’s Ranch didn’t give it away.

There were already a bunch of hunters there. Drinking PBR’s and Coors Light while playing games like cornhole and washers and blasting country music.

Cletus parked the truck next to a large cabin. We grabbed our bags from the bed of the truck and brought them in and put them on the bunk beds we’d be sleeping in.

“Dibs on bottom bunk” said Cletus, knocking me aside. As if I expected his fat ass to take the top one.

The interior of the cabin was decorated like a shrine to the redneck lifestyle. Deer heads, hog heads, antlers without heads, and various old-timey guns adorned the walls.

A steam whistle sounded.

“That’s it boys!” The room chided. They grinned from ear to ear as they grabbed their guns and gear and headed outside.

The crowd of hunters had gathered in a circle around a man in a large white ten-gallon cowboy hat.

“Ya’ll listen up!” The man shouted. His mustache twitching as it waited for the crowd to quiet down. “Now ya’ll know i’m the warden round these parts. This here’s my land and i expect ya’ll to take care of it!” Everyone nodded in anxious anticipation. “Now let’s talk ‘bout the reason why ya’ll’re here!” He nodded over to the very large black trailer behind him. It was moving slightly. There were noises coming from within, but nothing I could identify.

“In there is what you all requested. The hardest prey to hunt, but also the most rewarding!” The crowd roared and spat. Raising their guns in the air like an army ready to go to war.

“There are rules, though.” The warden continued. “Bag and tag as many as you want, but no killing. You all paid good money to be here, and this prey wasn’t cheap. If you want, you can catch and release and extend the hunt as long as you wish. But everything you do out there is at your own risk. The prey will fight back and will do everything they can to not get caught. We have over 3,000 acres of land, that’s plenty of ground to cover. Be careful, but most importantly, have fun!”

The crowd roared again. Draining the last of their Coors and PBR’s and tossing the cans on the ground exaggeratedly.

“They’ll give them a 2 minute head start” Chris explained to me as the Warden and two men went to the big black trailer. “Then it’s open season.”

The men opened the locks on the hatch of the trailer. The whimpers and whines of the prey could be heard as the doors were cracked open.

“Here,” said Jim-Bob, shoving a long rifle into my hands. “You know how ta shoot it?”

“J-just pull the trigger i’d imagine.” I stammered. Surprised at how heavy the gun was in my hands. “But how are we supposed to shoot it if we can’t kill—“

The hatch dropped. The men were hooting and hollering in anticipation.

At first, nothing came out. As if the prey were hesitant. Then a leg poked out and stepped on the ramp.

But it wasn’t the leg of a deer or boar: it was a human’s.

The prey stepped out. Naked from head to toe. Quivering like a deer in the headlights. Which was fitting, because it had a headband on its head with antlers attached. Its doe eyes wide as it saw all the drunken rednecks with guns watching it hungrily.

At first I thought it was a woman. As some of its nails were painted and it was clean shaven. But a tiny plastic device was stuck squarely between its legs. Balls dangling underneath it.

“Timer starts now, sissies!” Hollered the Warden holding a stopwatch and a pistol. “2 minutes! GO!”

As soon as the Warden fired his pistol it was as if the floodgates had opened.

Dozens of mostly naked sissies rushed out of the pen and out into the fields and woods.

Some of them were donned with antlers on the headbands, others had furry ears, some had no headbands at all. Just pig snouts tied around their face to go with the pigtails in their hair.

All of them had gags in their mouths. Some were ballgags, others were bits you would use for horses.

Some of them were in panties as well. The first sissy must have shed theirs. Others were still wearing them. Either they weren’t as ashamed of them, or they were concerned with more important matters: like running away from a bunch of drunk, crazy rednecks with guns.

“60 seconds!” Shouted the Warden.

Engines roared to life as men jumped on 4-wheelers. Everyone else was checking their guns. Hooting and hollering like Cherokee intimidating their foe.

Even in the dying light I could still make out some sissies in the distance. They weren’t nearly far enough. The land may have stretched on for miles, but they were at a stark disadvantage. Them being barefoot on the rough terrain probably didn’t help.

“10...9...8...” The Warden started counting down, and everyone joined. Licking their lips. I gripped my gun tighter. Trying not to drop it in my sweaty palms.

“Here we go!” Said Chris over the cacophony, slapping my back and grinning from ear to ear. Looking way too excited to be here. Leaving me wondering how I got myself into this.

“3...2...1...GO!!”

And we were off.

The 4-wheelers roared as they kicked up dirt and took off. Not able to get much speed as they wove through trees and brush.

I stumbled as Chris, Cletus, and Jim-Bob shoved me forward.

“Head North!” one of them shouted.

I wasn’t sure which direction North was, so I just followed my little group as they pivoted to the right.

Shots and shouts rang out in the distance. I felt like I was in a warzone.

“Tracks ‘ere!” Jim-Bob said, pointing to the ground. We followed them through the woods into a clearing.

Chris put a finger over his mouth, calling for silence, then tapped his ear telling us to listen.

Even I could hear what he was referring to: someone was breathing, hard, and it wasn’t us.

We traced the sound to a nearby tree.

“Don’t spook ‘em.” Cletus whispered, “Rookie, you take the first shot!” he said, nodding to me.

I gulped as I gripped the gun. Raising the butt of it to my shoulder like they do in the movies, pointing at the tree and aiming down the sights like I was playing Call of Duty. Except this wasn’t Call of Duty. It was real life.

“Scare him into the clearing, then take the shot.” Chris said under his breath, not taking his eyes off the tree the sissy was hiding behind.

“Heeeeree sissy sissy sissy!!!” hollered Jim-Bob.

Realizing it had been made, the sissy jumped up and ran for it.

“Get ‘em!”

“Come on!”

“Shoot!” they all shouted.

“Wh-where? The leg?” I asked, not wanting to put a bullet in anyone, no matter how much I was peer pressured.

“In the back, dumbass!” growled Cletus, lifting up his own gun impatiently.

I was sweating, hoping the sissy would be too far by now. But he was so fat and slow he was definitely within range.

“SHOOT ‘EM!”

I figured I’d rather take out the sissy than face the wrath of these 3 crazy men with guns. I put my finger on the trigger, closed my eyes, then fired.

The gun had some kick but not as much as I'd expected. I also didn’t expect the bullet to have a pink tail on the back. It seemed to fly forever, but it somehow found its mark. Right in the ass of the helpless sissy.

He yelped and then hit the ground. Sliding awkwardly across his face, immobilized. Ass still sticking in the air.

“YEEEHAAWWW!!” Cletus, Chris, and Jim-Bob roared, “You got ‘em boy!”

They clapped me on the back while I stood there gaping. Still in shock.

“Your first catch!” Chris smiled, heading out into the field to inspect the body.

The sissy wasn’t moving.

“Oh fuck, did I kill him?!” I asked, panicking.

“Naww!” Cletus laughed, nudging the unresponsive sissy with his boot. “He just sleepin’!” He yanked the tranquilizer dart out of the pink pair of panties it was stuck through. Then started inspecting the sissies hands and feet.

Two of his fingernails were painted on each hand, with 2 toenails painted on one foot, and 1 toenail colored the same shade of pink on the other.

“Looks like a 7-pointer!” Jim-Bob said excitedly, taking out a rope and binding the sissy’s wrists and ankles, hogtying him. “And he’s a biggun’! Come on, help me get this sum’bitch over”

When they turned him over, he looked like a typical 30-year old dude a little too into World of Warcraft. But there was a pig snout around his head that was tied so securely it didn’t even get dislodged when he face planted.There was drool leaking out the sides of the ballgag stuffed in his mouth,  smearing his poorly applied makeup that made him look like something between a cheap hooker and Boso the Clown.

“Come on, Rook!” Cletus said, taking out his phone, “Let’s get’er pic of yer first catch!”

I had seen hundreds of photos of hunters holding the heads attached to the carcass they just killed while smiling gleefully. But there was something even more unsettling about grabbing a grown man by the ears and smiling for the camera while they groaned and drooled.

After snapping a few awkward pics, Cletus used his phone to call the front office.

“Ya’ll head ‘awn back.” He said after giving the coordinates of their location. “I’ll stay here with the piggy until they come to scoop ‘em up!”

He was licking his lips and smiling creepily while adjusting his belt buckle when we left and headed back to the cabin.

*********

It was dark by the time we made our way back to camp. Everyone was hootin’ and hollerin’ as they unpacked their belongings and their haul.

Chris cracked open a beer and smacked his against mine. “Cheers man!” he said, chuckling as he took a long swig. I took a small sip, trying to get rid of the lump in my throat. We sat on a log around the fire with others sharing the glory of their catches.

“‘Lil fucker was up in a tree!” one guy said, “Dropped like a log when I darted him! Thought he was gonna break’is neck on the way down!”

Two four-wheelers were honking their horns when they pulled up to the camp. Their headlights were blinding, but when they shut off I could see naked bodies draped across the backs of each ATV.

“Got ourselves a trio’o’queers, boys!!” One of them gloated happily, untying the straps securing the bodies and hoisting one of their limp figures over his shoulder. His companion grabbed another. They took the two sissies over to a rather large--but at the same time rather small--cage. A guard unlocked the door to the pen and helped them toss the bodies inside where there were five other sissies already waiting. The tranquilizer having worn off on some of them, including the “Pig” we caught earlier. Their eyes were wide awake and their mostly naked bodies were trembling in the cold.

“How you like yer’ new home faggots?!” The man taunted. Clanking his knife against the bars of the cage threateningly. Laughing at how they quivered in fear.

He went back over to his 4-wheeler to grab the last remaining sissy. But before he could get there, the sissy jumped up off the back and made a run for it.

He scrambled through the outskirts of the camp, but then shrieked as an arm came out of nowhere and caught him by the hair.

“Looks like one of ‘em was playin’ Possum!!” said the voice of the man gripping the sissy by its long blonde locks.

He dragged the whimpering sissy into the camp. In the glow of the firelight I recognized the sissy’s captor as none other than the Warden.

“Got a feisty one ‘ere don’t we!” he grinned. Obviously amused at the sissy’s pathetic attempts to fight him off. “Watta ya say, boys? Shall we see if this doe is in rut?!”

The crowd roared as the Warden yanked the sissy by the hair and drug her over to a couple of barrel drums. He bent her over the barrel as others came to help hold her down while they bound her hands behind her back.

The sissy screamed as best she could with the bit in her mouth. Whimpering and sobbing as the men handled her roughly.

The man who caught her in the first place was fiddling with his huge belt buckle. “Hold’er still boys!” he grinned evilly, dropping his camo pants and underwear down to his ankles.

“Grease her up!” others cheered as someone yanked down the sissy’s panties and dripped something that looked like oil down her crack.

The captor with his pants down was stroking his dick like there wasn’t 30 other grown men around. Pacing back and forth like a Bull in heat.

Finally the crowd opened up, and the man eyed the flailing, naked sissy hungrily. Two men stepped in to hold the sissy’s legs apart until they could be tied around the barrel. There was nothing the sissy could do.

The man stepped up behind her. Smacking the sissy’s bare cheeks.

“Cornhole that ass!’

“Give it to her!”

“Make the bitch squeal!”

The sissy shook her head back and forth, begging and pleading, but her cries were drowned out by the horny rednecks.

I looked on in disbelief at everything unfolding as the man aimed his cock between the sissy’s cheeks, and entered her, then started pounding with no remorse.

“Nnnnghh!! Nnnnghh!! Nnnnghhh!!!” the sissy whimpered with each thrust, still struggling helplessly against her bonds. There was clank, clank, clanking sound from the sissy’s chastity device ringing against the metal barrel each time the redneck rammed her.

“Isn’t this illegal?!” I asked, turning to Chris, cursing myself for taking so long to speak up  “they’re literally raping him!”

“It’s not rape if they enjoy it,” Chris said simply, shrugging and taking another swig of his beer.

“Well it doesn’t look or sound like she’s enjoying it!” I countered.

Chris laughed, “That’s all an act.”

“What the hell do you mean it’s an act?! You fucking kidnapped them!” I shouted, louder than I wanted to do.

Again Chris continued to chuckle. “Kidnapped? Kidnapped?! Dude...do you think they’re here against their will?? How sick do you think we are?! Those sissies, they signed up for this. Hell, some of them even PAID to be here!”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Not only from Chris, but suddenly from over at the barrel. Where the sissy’s cries of pain suddenly shifted into a different sound.

“Nnnnghhh...nghhhh...yeshh...yeshhh!! YESHHH!!” the sissy moaned behind the bit. She was no longer struggling helplessly, but instead was rocking the barrel back and forth so she could drive her hips back into the man that was pounding her from behind. “Yeshhh!! Yessshh!!” Her legs started quaking. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head, and suddenly there was fluid squirting out of the tiny chastity cage between her legs.

The crowd jeered and cheered at the helpless, pathetic sissy. The man fucking her pulled out and his own seed started leaking down the sissy’s legs too.

The whole thing devolved from there as the drunk, horny rednecks searched for relief themselves. One took the bit out of the barrel sissy’s mouth, replacing it with his long hairy dick. Cletus sauntered over,undid the belt from under his potbelly, and pulled out his short, chubby cock. Spitting on the sissy’s gaping, leaking, hole and stuffing his stubby pecker in roughly.

With everything going on, I had forgotten about the other sissies in the pen, who were now drooling at the edges of the bars. Some men went over there to give them something to suck on, or tossed them empty beer bottles to shove up their asses and fuck themselves with.

I didn’t know what to do, other than sip my beer and try to act like I wasn’t super uncomfortable while the chaos ensued around me.

To Be Continued