This is the third and final story in the Hunt Club Field Day sub-arc. It covers the same event as Hunt Club Field Day: Jennifer, and Hunt Club Field Day: Tayrn - from yet another perspective. Although the last of the Field Day stories, the larger setting, as well as many of the characters, will appear in further Hunt Club stories.
Disclaimer: The following is purely a work of fiction, and bears no connection to actual persons, living or dead. Although written for entertainment purposes, the author acknowledges that the content would be considered obscene, offensive, and indeed perverted by almost any community standards. The story contains scenes of torture, murder and cannibalism. If you don't like those themes, don't read this story. The author neither endorses nor approves any of these practices and indeed actively opposes any real-life enactment of the themes described in this fiction. While some may find the stories erotic (that 's why they were written), the author strongly believes that the proper place for the acts described is strictly limited to the imagination.
This story features scenes of violence, murder and cannibalism. If this type of content offends or disturbs you, please do not read.
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Claire closed her eyes and let the sun warm her upturned face and bare shoulders. The breeze caressing her skin kept the heat from getting uncomfortable. The Asian-styled silk outfit she wore was perfect for the gorgeous Field Day weather. The dress was designed after a Chinese or Vietnamese pattern, with a dainty straight collar and cloth filigree buttons angling down one side. It wasn't a true ao-dai, however: the collar and "buttons" were purely decorative additions to an essentially strapless minidress, falling barely low enough to conceal her lace-covered pubes. Virtually barefoot, Claire's minimal sandals did keep her delicate feet from feeling the inevitable stones and twigs around the Field Day camp.
Rousing herself from her reverie, Claire opened her eyes to consider the five specimens preparing for the starters gun. With the exception of one rather lanky girl, most all of them looked like they would make for a tasty picnic once the chefs had finished with them. Although she had never been a hunter herself, Claire was a founding member of Hunt Club Coyote and she never considered the prey as individuals or people like her. When the starter's gun went off and one of the girls sat in the grass she laughed at the girl's incomprehensible stupidity. She was delighted, however, by the chance to see a Field Day kill in person. When the cook staff loaded the still squirming girl onto their stretcher she resolved to witness the whole butchering process, and then complete the cycle by getting a slice of the girl's bolt-damaged tit. Her plan was interrupted, however, by Pierce's unexpectedly quick strike on the second prey. Claire could not help but join the rest of the club in front of the view screen to watch him finish off the wounded prey. Delighting in the futility of the girl's effort to ward off her doom, Claire cheered the day’s second quick kill along with the other club members. It was now a sure thing that there would be meat for an early lunch. Two years ago the first kill had not happened until 11:30, and by the time the body had been brought in and cleaned it was after 1:00 before steaks were ready for the buffet.
Once the jubilation had died down a bit, Claire remembered that she had wanted to witness the preparation of the first kill. Turning from the big screens, she made her way out to where the kitchen staff had laid the girl on a huge butcher's block near the grills. The staff had already opened the girl's belly and had cleaned out her internal organs. Various buckets on the ground nearby were filled with viscera, although some, such as the liver, had been set aside for later use.
When Claire arrived the butchers were scraping out the girl's chest cavity, having just cut her heart free. The heart would be specially prepared for Jesse, the hunter who had made the kill. Although the solid muscle of the heart represented quite a challenge, the club's chefs had developed some special recipes that made it quite a delicacy. Claire watched another member of the staff shear the girl's long hair. It was a shame to spoil the appearance of the game, but the girl was to be spit roasted and the hair would inevitably catch fire anyway, resulting only in burns to the skin on the head. Once the girl's entire chest cavity had been thoroughly scrapped clean, another worker stepped in with a large needle threaded with cord to sew closed the gash that the hunting bolt had torn in the girl's breast. When that had been done the game was ready to be spitted. For this purpose a ten foot long steel pole was brought over. One end of the pole was pointed, although the tip was rounded, not sharp, so that it could be more easily controlled as it was forced through the body of the game. Claire stepped in to help the staff hold the heavy spit as the head chef guided its tip into the dead girl's pussy. With more staff pushing from the other end the spit was passed carefully through the girl's throat. The head chef tipped the girl's head back to allow the shiny steel pole to pass through her mouth and out between her teeth. With the game positioned at the center of the spit the chefs reached into the open stomach cavity and attached steel hooks to the girl's spine that then clamped them to the spit. The hooks would keep the body from slipping as the spit was rotated over the coals. The preparation was completed by tying the girl's wrists and ankles to the spit. Claire felt a delicious warmth in her loins looking at the still shapely body of the girl, penetrated completely by the hard steel rod. She found the sight profoundly erotic.
Turning from the spitted girl, Claire went in search of a hunter she could impale herself on to satisfy the hunger in her loins. Finding Davis standing alone under the tent, she unceremoniously locked him into a deep, passionate French kiss, simultaneously sliding her hand down his trousers to squeeze his manhood. Accustomed to such boldness from the club's most prominent female member, Davis readily returned her kiss, with interest. Claire could feel his penis rapidly stiffen as her fingers continued to work their magic. In moments he was straining at the fabric of his trousers; Claire pulled her hand from his crotch and pushed him back onto a chair. Swiftly unzipping his fly, she pulled his cock free from its restraints. It did not have long to wave in the fresh air of the morning, however, as Claire equally quickly pulled aside her flimsy lace G-string and straddled his lap. Already wet from watching the kills and the butchery, Claire slid easily over Davis' thick member. As she bounced on his lap, taking him repeatedly deep into her waiting pussy, Claire thought of the steel spit as it had slid into and through the first of the day's kills. Lost in her own thoughts she did not notice when Davis grunted, tensing as he released his load into her, but it was only moments later when her own climax came.
After a few moments collapsed in Davis' embrace, Claire eased herself off of his shrinking shaft and readjusted her panties. If the lace failed to keep their combined fluids from dripping down her inner thigh, she didn't really care. Never one to be too mushy with her Hunt Club couplings, she only offered Davis a incongruously chaste peck on the cheek in thanks before leaving him to straighten himself out.
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Claire was holding court with a circle of hunters listening to her tell about the antics of the silly girls she supervised at the Hooters she managed when the screen-saver winked off and the viewscreen flickered to life. The big screen in the tent showed a split-screen image. Each image showed different views of the same running figure. The figure was a leggy brunette with the kind of toned figure that said she spent enough time in the gym to stay in shape, but not enough to really develop any muscle. Her size C breasts were high and firm, and she appeared to be clean shaven. The split screen images indicated that two hunters (Jeff and Nathan) had spotted the prey, and the way that she was looking back as she ran through the trees told Claire that she was aware of the hunters on her trail.
Claire watched as the image of the prey disappeared from first one, and then the other image on the split screen. The hunters were moving quickly over the rocky ground and Claire didn't think that the prey in her bare feet had gotten away from them. Instead she guessed that the hunters had split up to trap the prey between them. Sure enough, the fleeing girl flashed into view in the cap-cams of the hunters as they periodically turned to monitor their progress. Jeff had pulled ahead a little bit and now seemed to turn to head off the prey. He must have made a lot of noise crashing through some dry branches because the prey suddenly reversed course and ran back the way she had come. Unfortunately for her, Nathan was still a little behind her and she had unwittingly turned towards him in trying to avoid Jeff. The girl's image in Nathan's cap-cam feed grew rapidly larger, her head turning frequently to try to keep track of Jeff behind her. Only when she had gotten quite close did she notice Nathan. She immediately cut at right angles to her path, but Nathan had already nocked an arrow and his quick shot hit her full in the kidney. Claire could almost hear the girl scream as she went down.
Moments later, the image in both screens showed the blood-smeared figure of the prey at the feet of the two hunters (each appearing in the cap-cam of the other), screaming and writhing in pain. Claire watched the first-person/third-person images as Nathan reached down and, grasping the blood-slicked shaft, ripped the barbed arrow from the girl's body. Fresh blood welled up from the enlarged wound, seeping past the girl's fingers where she tried to stop the bleeding. Claire juggled the split screen view, watching as Jeff pulled a rope from his pack and threw one end over a large branch about fifteen feet off the ground in a tree a few feet away from where the prey lay on the leaves. Jeff knotted a loose lasso in one end of the rope and slipped it over one foot of the wounded prey, giving it a sharp tug to tighten it around the ankle. Once the prey was roped, Nathan joined Jeff in hauling on the opposite end of the rope. The girl's free limbs thrashed in the leaves as she was pulled across the forest floor until she was under the tree limb, and then hoisted into the air, literally kicking and screaming.
Again the hunters split up, approaching the thrashing girl from opposite directions. Jeff darted in at her back and spun her 180 degrees, allowing Nathan to step in and steady her with a hand against her shoulder blade. With her spin stopped, Nathan grasped a fist-full of the girl's luxurious flowing hair to steady her wildly jerking body. Reacting to the pull on her hair, the girl clutched at Nathan's fist, attempting to free his hand from its painful hold. With her hands occupied trying to free her hair, the girl could offer no resistance when Nathan reached around with his eight-inch hunting knife and cut a deep slash across her exposed throat. Jeff's cap-cam gave a clear picture to the watching club of the fountains of blood gushing from the fatally wounded prey. With her heart pumping red liquid out of the gash in her pretty neck, covering her face in a mask of blood, the girl's struggles rapidly subsided, leaving her dead body hanging limply in the tree.
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When lunch time came, Claire had been a bit disappointed that the day's first kill that she had been looking forward to tasting had not yet been ready for serving. Whole roasting always took longer, though. Nevertheless, the cuts she had ***********ed from the other kills had been grilled to perfection. She consoled herself over a full belly and a strong scotch and soda with the thought that the roasting should be well completed by the time dinner came around. Looking around for the waiter to refill her drink, she noticed that the cap-cam viewscreen was live again.
Sean had settled in to a well-established blind just off of one of the more open passages through the forest. Claire knew that a couple of the club's hunters had built the blind near where a faint game trail had developed where a lack of underbrush and relatively level terrain facilitated movement through the woods. In past hunts they had noticed that several of the prey had been funneled onto this trail by the otherwise difficult terrain. The blind could be reached quickly and easily by an indirect route unlikely to be followed by the prey. Sean had made directly for the blind when the hunters were released and had been waiting there now for about twenty minutes. The fact that the feed from his cap-cam was showing on the picnic big-screens indicated that he had signaled an alert to the communications manager at the camp; he must have heard something to indicate approaching prey. Claire settled into a camp chair to watch.
It was not long before she caught a glimpse of pale skin approaching through the leaves. As she watched the figure of a naked girl came closer and closer. The girl was walking steadily, but slowly along the floor of the ravine, and seemed to be favoring her right leg, as if she had twisted an ankle or cut her foot. The girl paused occasionally to scan the trees around and behind her, but kept coming until she was quite near where Sean hid in the blind. The girl looked to be about five-four with a swimsuit model's figure. Her size D breasts jiggled as she stumbled along the trail. Her dark hair was cut very short in a way that set off her angular but very striking features. When she was still about thirty yards away the girl turned off, putting a large tree between herself and the game trail. With her back to the tree, however, she was directly facing the hunting blind as she squatted to pee. With the prey momentarily stationary, the technician activated the digital zoom on the cap-cam feed and the image of the girl grew to fill most of the big-screen. Claire felt her own crotch moisten as she watched the girl spread her clean-shaven lips with her fingers and release a stream of golden liquid onto the forest floor.
The image on the screen zoomed out, taking in Sean's outstretched arm and bow as he nocked an arrow and drew back the bow-string. The prey continued to scan the trees as she relieved herself, but failed to notice Sean concealed in the blind. Claire saw the stream of urine slow, but the girl was still releaving herself when the arrow, released from Sean's high-tech bow, caught her full in the throat, knocking her off her feet and back into the tree. The prey clutched at the shaft in her throat as blood sprayed rhythmically from where the arrowhead had severed her carotid artery. The image from the cap-cam shifted as Sean stepped from the concealment of the blind to approach the prey. Legs kicking, her chest heaved for air while blood poured into her torn windpipe. It was obvious to the club members watching the screen with Claire that Sean's shot was fatal; the girl's thrashing lessened even as he approached. Moments after he reached her they ceased altogether, and Claire could see the blank stare of death in the girls eyes when Sean crouched in front of the blood-soaked body. Claire joined the hearty cheers for yet another magnificent kill. This field day was already perhaps the best ever, and there was still one girl at large.
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Watching Leilani arouse the battered prey with the soapy sponge once again aroused the fires in Claire's tight loins. This time she did not have to go looking for relief - Kevin came and found her. Turning the tables on her earlier upper hand, Kevin took Claire forcefully and thoroughly. Reaching under the hem of her dress he seized her lace panties, ripping them to ribbons as he jerked them off. Backing her against a tent pole, Kevin rammed his massive prick into her not-resisting pussy. Claire's sexual forwardness sprang from a supreme self-confidence, together with an almost insatiable sexual appetite, making her equally comfortable as the recipient of a forceful banging. She had been raped once; in the end the rapist had beaten her badly out of frustration that she enjoyed the sex too much. The beating had been terrible, but it hadn't diminished her enjoyment of the sex. Now Kevin's aggression only served to turn her on. Wrapping a leg around his buttocks, she dug her fingernails into his back and rode him like a bucking bronco. Her strong cunt muscles squeezed his meaty cock until finally his climax exploded into her, leaving both of them sweaty and breathless.
Afterwards, Kevin gave her a warm kiss, full of tongue, before heading off to join the crowd. Claire remained where she was, leaning against the tent pole. Her slim fingers reached beneath her dress, scooping globs of mingled cum and cunt juice from between her legs. Putting her fingers to her lips she hungrily licked the slippery goo from her hand. Her fingers made two more trips below her hem-line before there was not enough fluid left to scoop up. She rubbed the remaining residue into her thighs like lotion before making her way over to the bar. At the bar she ordered a straight double Stoli 'chaser' and slammed it back in one gulp, savoring the burn of the vodka as it slid over her cum coated throat.
Collecting a cold beer, Claire made her way past the ruins of her panties in the grass to the crowd, just in time to witness Frank's knife bring the day's hunt to a final closure. Claire laughed as the blood sprayed from the gutted girl's cut artery. The hunt may be over, but the night was still young, there would be much feasting, drinking, and fucking yet to come before she would close the book on this Field Day.