The woman lay gasping under the thick brush, trying to catch her breath, exhausted from running. Her legs were scratched and bruised form the many thickets she had stumbled through and her clothes – simple exercise bra and cycling shorts – were stained with sweat, dirt, and blood. She could hear the baying of the hounds as the hunters – her pursuers – drew near to her hiding place deep in the bush. A manicured nail swept a stray lock of hair from her glistening forehead as she rolled over and tried to crawl deeper into the tangled mass of leaves and limbs, away from the direction of the barking dogs.

Suddenly, the pack was on her, hungry jaws snapping at her sweat-soaked body. She let out a shriek as a canine tooth pierced her flesh. "Get them off me! I surrender!" she cried out.

A boy's voice shouted "Here she is, sir!" as the dogs were pulled back away from the woman's tired body. She turned and saw the boy, dressed in ratcatcher tweed, tighten his grip on the dogs' leashes and pull them back.

"Alright then, come on out. The hunt is over for you." The voice belonged to a man on horseback, dressed in a scarlet coat and riding breeches. The boy and his hounds retreated back behind the man, but remained at the ready in case she tried to flee.

The woman stumbled out of the brush and into the clearing as other riders emerged from behind trees and underbrush. "I claim her!" shouted one rider in a black coat. "No! This one is mine! I directed her towards the pack!" another rider challenged.

"That's enough, gentlemen," the man in the scarlet coat – the Hunt Master – declared authoritatively, shooting a sideways glance at the two quarreling hunters, "You'll both be awarded the hunt button for this event. Attendants, please check on her condition if you will, and then we'll proceed back to the stables."

Two men in white coats dismounted from their steeds and approached the woman who had sat down in the dry leaves to rest. One of the men produced a fabric cuff with a dangling squeezeball and wrapped it around her bicep, then inflated it and counted out the minutes with his watch. The other man opened an antiseptic packet and began dabbing at the numerous cuts and scrapes adorning the woman's glistening body. He asked the woman "Did the dogs nip you, miss?"

"Yes, one of the bloodthirsty bastards caught me from behind."

"Ah, I see the puncture mark through your shorts now. I'll have to cut the material away to get at it," he said as he produced a small pair of scissors from his pack. He paused and looked at her quizzically.

"Go ahead," the woman said, "they're ruined now anyway."

He started at the bottom of the leg and followed the side seam until he was level with the puncture mark, then cut across her fanny, exposing the wound and a fair part of her ass in the process. The elastic material fell aside and hung loosely across the front of her leg, exposing the curve of toned muscle of her thigh.

"Her blood pressure is ok," the first attendant declared.

"Most of the wounds are superficial and the dog bite isn't deep. She should be ok," the second attendant added.

"Fine work, gentlemen," the Hunt Master told the two men, then turned to the rest of the hunting party, "fine work by all. As for you…" He paused and turned to the woman. "Missy, you know the deal. This was a 12-hour event and you lasted for 8 hours before being captured. Therefore you are to spend 4 hours on the cross. How do you plead?"

The woman paused, weighing her options. The rules were clear, the bargain set. If she had evaded the hunters for 12 hours, she would've received $1,000. If she was caught, she could forfeit the money or take the challenge of spending the remaining time bound to a cross, nude, in the open, at the stable on full display as a trophy for all to see. Only the victorious hunter (or in this case, two hunters) and the medical assistants would be permitted to touch her. If she could endure that challenge without surrendering, she would get $2,000. She decided she hadn't run for this long just to give up and walk away empty-handed.

"I accept the challenge," she said solemnly.

"Very well," the Hunt Master replied, "I accept your plea. Since James declared her first, he gets to carry her to the camp." The other hunter opened his mouth to protest, but was cut short by the Hunt Master. "… and Edward will share in the victory once she is mounted as a trophy." The other hunter closed his mouth and grinned with satisfaction.

"Alright then," James said to the woman as he produced a length of rope, "let's see your hands."

"Hey! There was no agreement about being dragged behind a horse!" the woman protested.

"No! No! Certainly not!" James replied, "I was merely going to bind your wrists and drape you over my saddle like I do with the other vermin I catch." The hunters laughed at the joke, and even the woman couldn't help but see the humor in it.

"It is tradition, after all," Edward added.

"Very well, then. Take me, " the woman said as she held her hands out towards James.

James quickly wrapped a length of rope around her wrists, tied it off, then hoisted her up in his arms like a groom carrying a bride across the threshold of their honeymoon suite, and carefully laid her on her stomach across the back of his horse. The other hunters couldn't help but admire the view her position afforded them. "Gentlemen, I declare this a successful hunt!" James crowed.

Arriving at the stables, the Hunt Master shouted "Sirs, you can tie off your horses over there and the stable hands will be along shortly. There is also a buffet set out behind the manor for those who wish to dine early, or you can remain here and observe the mounting of the trophy, whichever you wish."

Edward was already dismounted and running over the prize draped across James' horse. Edward raised his hand and playfully spanked the exposed derriere of the woman, eliciting a shout of surprise from her. "She's a fine one, James! We should do well with her!" he exclaimed as he landed two more blows to the bare rump of the woman. "Ow! That hurts!" she cried out. "Quiet prize! Or we'll leave you up there for a bit longer and give you a real spanking!" Edward retorted with a laugh, then promptly gave her two more whacks with his palm, harder than before, as if to give her an example. The woman flinched as a muffled cry escaped her lips.

James dismounted and surrendered his reigns to a waiting stablehand, then reached up and pulled the captured woman off his horse. James then grabbed the rope knotted around her wrists and led her towards the other side of the stable building, towards the open courtyard of the manor. The other hunters, led by Edward, followed, a parade of victors and vanquished.

Turning the corner of the building, the woman caught her first glimpse of the cross. It was tall and constructed of thick wood. The vertical beam – the stipes – was buried into the ground and rose over 12 feet high. The horizontal beam – the patibulum – was about 3 feet from the top. A small footrest was affixed to the stipes about 4 feet off the ground. Scaffolding surrounded the cross with a ladder down to the ground. A man dressed in a black riding coat stood waiting at the foot of the cross holding several lengths of thick, heavy rope. It was a scene intended to frighten some and arouse others.

James undid the ropes from around the woman's wrists as she stared at the cross that would be her home for the next four hours.

"Remove your garments," the man in the black coat commanded in a low grumble.

Reluctantly, the woman hooked her thumbs in the elastic band of the sports bra and lifted it up over her head. One of the hunters whistled appreciatively as James and Edward stared at her in anticipation of what was to come. The woman quickly folded her arms across her chest, covering her pale breasts, and glared at the crowd. "If you want the rest of my clothes, you'll have to cut them from me!"

"That can be arranged," the man in black replied ominously, "now up you go."

The woman ascended the ladder leading up to the scaffolding cautiously, using one hand to grip the handrail and the other to cover her bare chest. Positioning her in front of the cross, the man placed a hand on her shoulder and guided her back against the stipes until she stepped up onto the footrest. He then took her free arm and stretched it out along the length of one side of the patibulum, wrapping a length of rope around her wrist. He looped the rope several times around the patibulum, added a second loop around the rope itself near her wrist so that her hand wouldn't pull free, then proceeded to wrap a length of rope around the patibulum near her bicep and again passed a loop around the rope to secure her arm. Securing the knot with a hearty jerk, he moved to take her other arm. "Give your arm to me. Its useless to resist. You can't get away. We'll see your body eventually so there's no point in delaying the inevitable."

The woman sighed and acquiesced, relaxing her arm as the man pulled it away from her body, exposing the pale mounds of her breasts capped by soft pinkish nipples. Where sun had found skin there was dirt and sweat from her jaunt across the countryside, but her breasts had been protected and were now exposed to the crowd of hunters gathered at the foot of her cross. Her breasts bounced slightly as the man stretched her arm along the other side of the patibulum and pulled her off balance. Her feet shifted as she tried to position herself on the narrow footrest. She sighed again, taking a deep breath and trying to relax as the man secured her arm to the thick wood. The hunters watched as her breasts rose and fell. A few passed comments amongst themselves, admiring the quality of the trophy on display before them.

The man then took another length of rope and wrapped it around her ankles, securing her legs to the stipes. Checking to make sure his knot was secure, he then released a wingbolt set into the side of the stipes and slid the footrest down until the woman was on tiptoes, then tightened the wingbolt. Pulling out a knife, the man then cut the laces to her shoes and pulled them off along with her socks, leaving the woman wearing only her tight cycling shorts, half of which was already cut and hanging loosely across her thigh.

The man stepped back to admire his handiwork and called out "Which one of you two lucky hunters would care to do the honors of properly preparing your trophy for display?"

James said, "Go ahead Edward. I carried her here, so its only fair that you should do the skinning." The other hunters nodded in agreement and Edward charged up the ladder in eager anticipation of seeing the woman's most private parts revealed. She watched as he stumbled up the ladder in his haste to get the scissors from the man and she began to regret her decision.

She looked away, trying to ignore the stare of Edward as he stood in front of her clutching the scissors in his left hand, taking in the sight of her partially nude body stretched out on the cross. "You act as though you've never seen a woman before," the woman whispered tauntingly. He detected a touch of anger in her voice. Edward replied, "I've seen a woman before, and I know what to do with one when I have her at my mercy. And I also remember warning you about speaking out." Tucking the scissors into his waistband, he raised his hand and slapped her left breast, watching it shake and tremble from the impact of his palm. She stifled a gasp and collected herself. Edward then slapped her other breast and extracted a guttural "umph" from her. She pursed her lips as he again raised his hand and slapped her breasts, trying to get her to cry out. She knew what he wanted from her but she wouldn't surrender. Not yet. She fought against the urge, struggling to subdue the pain emanating from the reddening flesh of her twin globes. She tugged at the ropes binding her arms as her hands twitched in the open air, her tender breasts subjected to the blows of Edward's palms, and she struggled to control her pain.

With a final slap of his hand against her breasts, Edward pulled the scissors from his waistband and held them up to the woman's face. "Now the fun really begins," he said to her ominously.