When the men opened the trunk of the car, I knew that something horrible was going to happen to me, and I would probably never be seen again. We were in a very remote, sylvan setting and I appeared to be all alone and at the mercy of my captors. I thought back to how this had started as the men made their preparations.
I had fallen in love with Stephanie, and this was a special night. She had assured me that her father was going to be out all evening, and I had come over with a movie and a bottle of wine. After a romantic dinner, we were snuggled on the couch, watching Titanic, and had been necking for almost an hour. Finally, neither of us were able to stand it, and, half out of breath, we started to strip off our clothing. She was bare chested and down to her french cut bikini panties, and I wore only my tee shirt and a pair of white briefs. My cock was hard for her and she was under me as I pressed it through two skimpy layers of undies against her hot groin. This was when her father burst in unexpectedly, and my life ended as I know it. He was a wealthy man, with a cruel streak in him and had many firearms for "protection" and for his extensive big-game hunting hobby. Before I knew it, I was staring down the barrel of a monstrous looking revolver. Drymouthed, I froze, and asked him what he wanted me to do.
"Stand", he said in a commanding voice, and I did, grabbing my jeans in one hand.
"DROP THOSE and put your hands UP!!" he yelled loudly.
I did as I was told, but started to stammer that I'd rather try to cover up if he didn't mind. Evidently, he did, because he didn't say anything to me. I stood there with my hands up, miserably, terribly embarrassed by the massive erection which my briefs did next to nothing to conceal. He pulled out his cell phone, and in about 20 minutes, which seemed like days to me, a pickup drove up to the door and two of his friends arrived. They came up to me and there was a muted discussion which I couldn't hear too much of. After a minute or two, they produced ty-wraps, which they tightened around my wrists and ankles. I was pushed roughly to the floor, and they completed securing me by pulling my bound ankles up to my wrists, and ty-wrapping the two together so that I was hog-tied. They picked me up and threw me in the trunk of his Lexus, and after a four hour ride in darkness, I blinked as they opened the trunk again to get me out.
It was dark and cool...probably some time around 2AM, and they had spread a tarp on the ground behind the luxury car. The two men picked me up by my arms and legs and threw me roughly on the tarp. Nearby, two large dogs of an evil disposition were waiting intently--staring at me with tongues lolling greedily from their huge jaws. I was stammering and babbling and begging for mercy, but all three of the men were silent. The revolver was trained on me again, and I was sure that this time I'd be killed for sure, and wrapped up in the tarp and buried out in this godforsaken spot. But that was not in the plans of these men. They were all very wealthy self-made men who thought they were outside the law, and Steph's father had the justification that I had "wronged" him by daring to touch his daughter (she was 22 years old) without his "permission".
Taking a collar from the truck, they snapped it around my neck and snapped two long leashes on it. One of the men approached me with a hunting knife. I cringed as he placed it against my belly...but I only felt a graze of the cold steel as he turned it upwards and slashed the tee shirt off of me. He did the same with my underwear so I was stark naked in the cold night air. Now they cut the ty-wraps and stretched the leashes in opposite directions. One of the men kicked me from behind so I sprawled awkwardly on my belly with my legs apart. The dogs were released, and came forward eagerly. They didn't attack, but merely sniffed me hungrily all over. They paid special attention to my crotch and asshole. It was embarassing and wretched to have their cold, slimy noses in such a private area but I had no choice in the matter.
After the dogs were allowed to "get my scent" as the men said, I was tossed a loincloth, which was all I was given to wear. This consisted of a very skimpy piece of thin leather that looked like an old chamois, and a rawhide thong that I could JUST tie around my waist. I had to tuck the thong piece into the front and back, and it ended up barely covering my hard cock in front and disappearing between the two halves of my rump from behind. The dogs were commanded to withdraw, and I was taken out on the leash at a run...pumping my legs as fast as I could to keep up. After about five minutes, the men stopped and both leashes were unclipped from me. They both had rifles trained on my nearly naked body as they backed off. I was told to run, and that I would get thirty minutes. After that the dogs would be released and they would hunt me. Hunt me. I had to ask them to repeat it which they were loth to do, but the jist of it was that I was either going to escape by running all night until dawn, or they would "bag" me as they politely referred to it as. They said that if I evaded them until dawn and managed to find the weakness in the razor-wire fence, I was a free man. Otherwise, I was theirs--my trophies displayed on their wall. I shuddered and felt my cock swelling with the animal fear of the situation. The larger of the two guns went off when I wasn't looking at it, and I nearly peed in the intense fright of knowing I was their game.
I turned and ran frantically, my bare feet cringing from contact with sharp stones and sticks in the soft loam. The men watched, smiling and unmoving as their new breed of "white-tail" disappeared into the thick brush. They were unconcerned for the direction I took--strolling calmly back to share a cigar and a brandy at the truck with Stephanies father. After a good 45 minutes, they took compound bows out of the truck and let the dogs have their heads.
I ran for an hour before I heard anything, and I had just decided that I had escaped. I was wondering how the hell I'd get out of these remote woods before dying of starvation when I heard the baying of the brutal animals they were tracking me with. Terror siezed my heart with cold talons as I redoubled my pace.
- - -
I had been running steadily for nearly 20 minutes and my heart was hammering. The dogs had gained ground on me rapidly, so I had to assume they had been given free run. What I DIDN'T realize in my frantic terror to escape the monsters was that they were HERDING me. I was actually being run in a circle back towards the pursuers, who were fanning out in a pattern to intercept me. The other thing I didn't realize was that they had night vision goggles on now and one of them even now was sizing me up for a shot with a hideous razor headed arrow. I stumbled from exhaustion as he loosed the arrow, or I would have been impaled through the belly by the evil missile. As it was, it slashed open the small of my back and a little of my right flank. I shrieked in terror at the hot slippery blood that was covering my lower half. Now turning away from my tormentor, I ran with redoubled energy directly away from him. I was leaving a blood trail on the ground that they needed no dogs to follow.
With the dogs so close now, and my unseen hunters close enough to put an arrow into me, I was in a frantic, animal state of terror. My cock was hard again from the extreme state of arousal I was in from the pain and fear, and adrenaline was making me dry mouthed and full of butterflies. Somehow I managed to get through a rather dense thicket, and with the confusion of all the regrouping of hunters and dogs, I slipped past everyone momentarily. But they were still close, and my heart hammered like that of a rabbit's. Maybe that's what clouded my thinking. For some reason, I thought it would be logical to climb UP to somewhere they couldn't see me. There was a dead tree up ahead, fallen halfway down and leaning against another tree at a 45 degree angle. The illogical drive of the prey animal made me frantically scramble up that rough trunk until I was about 20 feet in the air. After that, all the bark had fallen off and the trunk was slippery enough that I could get no purchase with my bare legs and arms and the blood was making me lightheaded. Also my legs were very slick from bleeding all over myself.
Now I could hear the sounds of the pursuit closing in, and the dogs were yelping as they followed my scent trail. I could hear their note change as they got closer and closer to me, and soon I realized with a gulp of terror that they KNEW I was up there. I had read about this long ago--about how dogs will bay "treed" when they have cornered the quarry. Realizing that I was that quarry made me sick with dread and despair. I clung as quietly as possible with my arms and legs spread around the trunk, and hoped somehow that I would be missed.
The two partners spotted me first. Marked off by the baying dogs and a streak of blood on the tree visible in the night vision, I was a child's target for a good bowman. They waited for Stephanies dad. This trophy belonged to him. He strolled up and assessed the situation. Positioning himself in line with the tree trunk, he could easily see between my legs from behind as if a target were painted on me there. Smiling, he squinted down the wicked razor headed arrow as he aimed carefully...precisely...
Shuddering, I clung to the tree and wondered at the terrifying silence. Then I heard the horror sound of the arrow zipping through the air and the thud of it's impact. It struck me between my legs, burying itself into the dead wood of the tree and missing the meat of my body by fractions of inches. But it struck me none the less. Slicing through the soft leather, it grazed my crotch without cutting me at all, but my scrotum was bunched in my crotch enough from my clinging tightly to the tree that the arrow penetrated it. The pain galvanized me almost instantly as I felt the solid blow of it digging into the wood. I was pinned to the tree. Nailed, more like it.
I almost let go of the tree...my body bent back and I very nearly fell. My hard cock sprayed warm urine all over my groin and belly as the shock instantly emptied my bladder. A piercing scream escaped me, so animal and terror stricken in it's wordless intensity that I hardly even recognized my own voice. The hunters laughed in triumph.
Now, horrified, I lay there clinging for my life as I heard one of the hunters start to ascend the trunk slowly. There was nothing I could do. I was trapped like any rabbit waiting for the hunters to pick it up after wounding it. The man was wearing some kind of tree climbing spurs, so there was no question of his ability to reach me. It took an agony of time. I moaned and shuddered in horror as he climbed.
After reaching me, he took a rope and quickly knotted it around my ankles. Then he jerked the arrow out and dropped it to his friends below. I was bodily pulled off the tree and lowered by the rope to the waiting men upside down. They took a long pole and tied my hands and feet to it and shouldered it among themselves. I was carried this way through the woods like some grotesque parody of a wild stag taken in the spring hunt.
I pleaded and begged with them to consider me punished enough and let me go, so I could somehow crawl off and eventually escape. I promised everything. I even promised her father that I would never go near Steph again (this was a lie), but they never addressed me directly. There was a lot of chuckling and laughing at some of my plaintive begging, but I was never treated as a part of their conversation. I was in agony from the wound in my side, and my crotch felt like it would never be the same, and the cool night had me shivering--teeth chattering. Every step they took jarred me to the bone, hurting me even more.
Finally, I could see some light from a clearing ahead. I could see glimpses of a small cottage through the trees. There was a small yard open from the trees, and a large campfire was burning out in the yard. I was taken near the fire and thrown roughly down on the cold grass. Next, they untied the bonds from my arms and legs, but quickly they retied a rope to each of my ankles, passing each over a tree branch extending from the forest's edge. Pulling on both ropes, they raised me upside down so I hung like a steer in a meat packing house. They tied the ropes to stakes in the ground, and tied two more ropes from each wrist to other stakes. Thus, I was hung upside down and stretched with my limbs spread. One of the men quickly cut off the remnants of my loincloth, rendering me stark naked. I was horribly embarassed that my penis was still stiffly erect (an animal reaction to the pain and fear), and there was much laughing and elbowing of one another about it. There was no resemblance to any form of homosexuality, instead they very much were treating it as something amusing about the game they had just bagged. It was clear to me that they thought of me only as an animal. My terror soaked brain was not thinking clearly, or I would have drawn the logical conclusion as to their intentions for me, hanging upside down and naked as I was.
Another of the assistants produced a tape measure, and to my shame and humiliation, he proceeded to measure my erect cock from pubic bone to glans. After that, there was a whole lot of hearty laughter about the "seven-inch buck" they'd caught, and how it measured up against other game nabbed in the past. They even posed around me and snapped photographs of the hunters with their trophy--some of them even pulling my head up by the hair like I'd seen hunters do with deer in other trophy photos.
I was shuddering, wondering what they would do next. I was in such a remote area that there was no hope of any succor. Even so, I had screamed at one point during the hunt--screamed at the top of my voice with animal terror. Hoping someone would hear me and send help, I continued to scream until the unbearable silence of the forest spooked me. There was not a sound. No answer. Just the distant baying of the dogs.
- - -
Now, hanging upside down, unable to move more than ineffectual squirming, I was completely helpless. My poor genitals were mangled, the sack torn open and penetrated through by the huge and wicked blade of the arrow. One of my testicles was actually protruding--the only thing holding it in was the dangling spermatic cord. My back and side was gashed open and muscle layers could be seen underneath like meat in a butcher shop. The pain was actually making me dizzy and sick feeling. One of the men put a large round stick in my mouth. It was tied at each end by a thong which went around the back of my head, partially gagging me and givng me something to bite into when the pain jabbed me sharply. But now the true terror started.
One of the men produced a sharp knife. He came up and grabbed one of my ankles and began delicately slicing around the limb in a shallow bracelet cut. He repeated the cut on the other ankle as I yelled gutturally into the wooden stick. My agony was continued when he cut down from each bracelet--down the backs of my plump calves and behind my knees and the backs of my thighs. The cuts were always shallow, just through the surface skin. My imagination overloaded with the fear and pain of this hideous torment they were administering to me. I could not conceive of why they would possibly be doing this to me except for a sheer monstrous cruelty and desire for revenge.
I was screaming in terror and pain as I was cruelly slashed. He completed each cut down each leg at the crease under my buttock, and then turned to follow that crease until both cuts met at my anus. Then he cut between my buttocks and followed the crease all down my spine to my shoulder blades. I was trying to squirm and buck despite the ropes, but the assistants were helping by firmly grasping my soft flesh and preventing me from moving too much. He completed the web of cuts by branching out the backs of each arm to my wrists, and then braceletting my wrists just as he'd done to each ankle. I gasped in horror as he sliced around my neck, thinking death had come at last, but he only went just through the skin again.
When I did not die, I realized that my throat was not being slashed, he was merely continuing the cuts he had violated the rest of my body with. Now I squealed with sudden pain, if it could be believed that my pain could possibly increase. One of the other men had grasped my skin around my ankles, where the first cut had been made, using a pair of pliers. Delicately at first, and then more robustly, he peeled the skin away from my ankle and, separating it at the back seam, proceeded to skin my leg all the way to the crotch, pulling the hide off of me with brute force despite my hoarse screams.
My other leg caught fire as the first became cold and numb--unbelievably, he was repeating this hideous assault on my already overloaded central nervous system. My frightened brain slowly grasped the monstrous concept of what was happening at last: I was being skinned alive by these cruel ogres. Now, both legs were laid bare and the skin of them was hanging down the front of my body. The man with the knife...beast more like it, was now separating the back part of my "pelt" from my internals at the anus. He took a smaller blade and plunged it into my shrinking asshole deftly. Then with a quick sawing flick, he pumped it in and out and rotated it at the same time in a 360 degree circle. Now, the other beast with the pliers grasped the flap on one side of my ruined asshole and peeled further. He did this on both sides, starting the skin of my rump halves down further. Then he peeled through my crotch, pulling forward to start this skin down my front. The only thing holding him back now was my genitals, but he slipped the blade into my crotch and sliced through...going down the front of my groin to slice off my cock and balls inside my gory pelt. I passed out with the enormity of the pain and the terror of this. They quickly noticed this, and stuck the knife blade into one of my nostrils and threw ice water over me to revive me. It seemed they didn't want me to miss anything. When I came to, they had pulled the skin completely loose from around my hips and waist, and it hung like a bloody garment down the front of me and in front of my face. A panic seized me and I began squirming and kicking frantically, squealing at the top of my voice like some dying prey animal in the jaws of its captor.
They seemed to be heartily amused at this, and poked my mangled leg muscles a few times with the blade of the smaller knife, adding to my torment. Now, with a mighty pull of the two men on either sides of me, they turned my hide inside out and peeled it down off my torso as the third guy (Stephanie's Father) held my squirming body steady. Any touch of his hands on my raw skinned meat caused a pain so horrible that I nearly went blind with it, and I had nearly screamed my voice away. It was not too long before they completed their grisly task, leaving my body a mutilated parody, except for my head, hands and feet. I had passed out once more, but they quickly revived me with more pain until I was somehow unconciously trained to stay awake for them. It was so horrible--I was completely reduced to an animal--a "pain-thing" with all it's humanity destroyed or stolen by these monsters. They finally got to the point with a quick gutting job, opening me up from my ruined and emasculated crotch to my breastbone to pull out all of my entrails. I could not believe that I still lived through all of this. When they first slashed me open, my intestines slipped loose from my violated ass and the whole mass of guts forming my digestive tract hung down wetly in front of my face. I could smell it: an earthy, animal scent like that of a slaughter house. I was nearly outside of my body, taking several minutes to realize that this was ME, not some wild animal being field dressed.
Then, to my disbelieving terror, they pulled the remainder of my entrails out and cut them from inside my body cavity. Another extended the hose from the cottage to the site of my grotesque butchering, and proceeded to spray me off, cleaning the blood off my body and from my empty adbomen. The cold spray felt like hot needles where it struck my naked meat, and I screamed almost continuously in terrified pain.
At last, I was lowered from the tree branch and the ropes were untied from the stakes in the ground. They carried me to a butcher block table that had been set up nearby, and retied the ropes to the four legs, leaving me stretched out face up with my arms and legs splayed widely. I was watching in numb fear as one of them took my mutilated pelt and proceeded to NAIL it to a sheet of plywood so that it was stretched out like an animal skin. Animal skin! That's all it was, I realized: to these amoral monsters, and, in reality, to me for the remaining frantic moments of my short life. They were very jovial and triumphant about the whole thing and I could overhear comments about how they were going to employ the techniques in the book they had purchased on preserving leather and animal skins. I shuddered at this, picturing myself as a throw in front of the fireplace in some richly appointed mansion's library. It was so horrible, knowing that I was helpless to prevent this from happening to me. I had pleaded with them several times during the last stages of my skinning, when I realized the hopelessness of it all. Pleaded with them to kill me, to stop this monstrous violation of my overloaded nervous system with hideous unimaginable pain. But they had ignored me. Sometimes they just laughed and elbowed each other knowingly. One time, however, I remember something they said, something about "it's terror and agony adding a savory seasoning to it's meat" or words to that effect.
God. It was just so hopeless and unbelievable. My mind shrank to the dimensions of a small childs' or an animals' from the whole thing. I now realized that they were doing much more to me than just mutilating and torturing me. Not only was my pelt (God, I was starting to think like them), my SKIN, being made into a trophy, but they were planning something for my flesh as well. I asked them what they were doing and they laughed that I was going to be made into freezer cuts like any other game they had bagged in the past. And this is just what happened to me.
After being stretched out on the gory table, they proceeded to chop off my hands and feet and hack through all of my joints as I writhed in agony. Producing a huge cleaver, they gathered up my fleshy arm and leg roasts (wings, drumsticks and thighs), and began to split the remainder into quarters. Choppping me at the crotch with the grisly instrument, they split me in half. It was a cold horror of an experience. Halfway through, at the level of my diaphragm, I mercifully expired. The men were sorely disappointed, but they continued in grim determination to reduce me to cuts of meat. In the end, my parts were wrapped in paper, none larger than a nice party rib roast you might find in your butcher section of the grocery today. My head was chopped off and placed on a spike in the ground. Mouth wide with my last voiceless scream. Eyes wide with the innocent, terrified look of a deer head. There were other spikes nearby, each crowned with an animal head of some type. This had been a hunting cottage for several generations in the family. As they began grilling one of my rump roasts, the men were all thinking how they had added a new and revolutionary kind of game to their hunting tradition. They all wondered what fun would be theirs while exploring this new frontier.
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