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= = = = = = = = = = The following short story written by the
former ASSTR author known as PlanetDweller is one of his very
best. It's full of humor, irony and pathos and is an almost
vicious social, political and sexual satire that slaps you silly
and makes you like it. ~ ~ ~ AlphaBettaFish, curator of
PlanetDweller's story archive


.17   HMR

By

PlanetDweller

(MF, varmint hunting with handguns, light DS, graphic, light
menstrual sex)



  "Hey Tweety."

  "Hey yourself Bigger Guy" giving my bigger-than-most
bigger-guy-fiancé' a sweeter-still but hard kiss on the lips as I
got out of my old Celica "missed you."

  "Missed you too" his hands roughly groping me through the heavy
duck fabric of my camouflaged coveralls, my hands lightly pushing
them away for a moment.

  "We've got plenty of time for that later, Mr. Horny-Day-Dog,
it'll be light soon and we need to go get staked out before the
little critters wake up" as I grabbed my Thompson- Center
Contender pistol and hunting shoulder-holster rig from the trunk
of my trusty old rust bucket, he handing me my new Peterson
Custom Armory special barrel in .17 Hornaday Magnum Rimfire / HMR
caliber, a twenty grain bullet traveling at a half-mile-
per-second velocity (2245 fps) smaller than common .22 rimfire
round but speeding faster than any sniper-rifle round I unlocking
my old .22-250 barrel from the T-C Contender's single-shot
receiver block and locking the new .17 HMR barrel in place, he
shoving a couple of small plastic boxes of .17 ammo in my
coverall's pockets trying to cop a free feel of my pantied crotch
and I letting him before playfully pulling away from him.

  "Yeah, I know" his smile now a bit of a frown as he put his arm
around my waist and we walked down the well-worn path around his
old Southern mansion farmhouse to the gate of his fenced-in three
nearly four thousand acres of open pasture.

  "I love you" I kissing him on the cheek as we made our way over
the multitude of hills and dales of his family's now only his now
that his father now deceased last year his mother gone years
before massive old agricultural holding one time one of the
largest continuous unbroken stretches of livestock pasture in the
state he growing up here just outside of the major metro city of
Raleigh and loving it but now not loving metro-area-level taxes
even with the so-called farmland property tax break and never
loving the hardwork of cattle and horses growing up he now
leasing his acreage to neighbors for their cattle to graze on to
where he could make enough profit off of it to pay his taxes
before in time he would sell out to some developer for yet
another family farm lost and another last of landed blueblood
gentry millionaires made, hopefully by then we'd be married and
I'd be Mrs. Big Guy, actually Mrs. Jonathan Ballaerin-Guerre,
thank you.

  We walked over the ridge of a small hillock and saw three or
four of the little buggers we were after scurrying around
foraging early in the dewed grass in the easing dawn's light. The
main colony of them was another quarter-mile away but this was
too good an opportunity to pass up.

  "Remember, the round is ballistically perfect zero at one
hundred yards, drops four-and- a-quarter at one-fifty, twelve and
change at two hundred yards out" he prattling on as the
whistle-pigs about seventy five yards perked up to notice us for
a moment, we freezing in our tracks until they went back to
feeding.

  "It's sweet that you always think of me as a girl" I kidded him
back as I opened the factory ammo case up and shook a few rounds
loose in my hand, putting one in the =barrek=?= and one loose
between my fingers and the others back in my pocket.

  "You are a girl, dear, thankfully, or I'd be gay as a
motherfucker" he easing a kiss on my lips and a hand forced its
way over the crotch of my heavy cammo coveralls, the thick fabric
comfortable in the damp morning chill.

  "Not now, honey, later, after we've wasted some greasy
groundhog ass."

  "On three as usual?"

  "Sure."

  Slowly we kneeled down, sitting on the ground with our knees in
front, using them as a base to steady our heavy T-C target
pistols, him picking out the fat buck in the middle of the
grazing small herd, me picking out a smaller juvenile closer to
me out on the edge.

  "Three, two, one!" he whispered as both our pistols reported
virtually simultaneously and two varmints dropped like they had
been hit by lightning where they stood, two perfect single shot
kills, my heart rate accelerating, my breathing increasing, my
excitement increasing, God, I do love hunting so much.

  My guy got hit midships in his belly area but surprisingly
there wasn't an exit wound, surprisingly because this new caliber
of bullet was supposed to be the hottest thing for killing small
helpless defenseless critters since the .454 Casull wildcat round
was created. Strange.

  I flicked my folding Buck knife open and sliced his belly open
and then saw why Deary and so many others have been raving about
this round; his insides weren't there when I sliced him open;
well, there were there but were unrecognizable, were an absolute
mass of goo, the tremendous amount of energy of the round
expended inside his body cavity just turning his stomach and
lungs and intestines into absolute groundhog-jello. Cool!

  Sweetie's single-shot-kill round had passed completely through
his guy, leaving a pencil-lead-sized exit wound and having an
almost imperceptible entry point in the fur, but the results on
his whistlepig was pretty much the same, his insides compressed
and relaxed and then Cuisinarted into an unrecognizable mass of
raw groundhog-guts tartar stew inside. Cooler!

  Poor little guy of Sweetie's, he was still breathing a little,
still alive somehow, so I put another round between his eyes so
he wouldn't suffer, and much to my surprise got some
brain-splatter back as his skull exploded at my feet, evidently
his skull creating enough resistance to where the bullet
prematurely exploded and mushroomed before penetrating through.
Oh, well.

  Don't get me wrong. I do enjoy hunting, enjoy the skill
required for long-range kills, but this was a matter of
necessity. Groundhogs create burrows all over the place, all over
Sweety's pastures, and the cattle then step in the gopher holes
and break legs and such and have to be put to sleep, creating
real economic hardships for the folks that lease his land. Our
having some fun by long-range target shooting them helps keep
their population in check and helps prevent livestock injuries
and deaths too, so it's a win-win.

  Yeah, I love varmint hunting, love working on engines and yeah
can change my own friggin' oil thank you and do my own tune-ups
too, love Carolina Packers football and actually know what
illegal contact within five yards is, can drink beer with the
best of them including Dear but seldom do, can clean my own fish
when we go trout fishing up in the mountains and happen to
actually accidentally catch a couple of them. As my love says, I
am the perfect man's woman, whatever he means by that.

  "It's almost light, we need to get a move on" he urged as we
re-holstered our pistols.

  At the main groundhog colony near the big pond where all the
cattle came to drink and sometimes bathe there weren't any little
heads popping up or furry little bodies scurrying around as we
took our positions inside our small blind made from cammo netting
and natural materials up just below the main ridgeline
overlooking the kay-zee.

  "Damn, those loud reports must have scarred them off," he
whispered.

  "They weren't much louder than the old .22-250's we used to
use, let's just bide our time, they'll come out."

  "Wanna give me a blow job while we wait?"

  "Maybe, as long as you'll pay attention and let me know when
they start popping up."

  His cock tasted of piss, again. Guy or no guy, he could have at
least taken a shower last night like I always seemingly fuss at
him about doing.

  I'll do anything for him, but he could at least give me the
respect of washing his nasty dick off before asking me to suck
it. I shrugged and sucked away anyway, after I spit on his hog
and wiped it off with my hand.

  "Uhhmmmm, baby, baby, baby."

  "Pay fucking attention, Daniel Boone Junior, and let me know
when they start coming out."

  "God baby, you're so good, suck it, suck it!" his hand groping
my tits as I think he continued to scan the beautiful vale below
us for signs of live furry targets.

  "Anything yet?"

  "God, Jeannie, I've got to have you, now, fuck the hogs" he
pulling me up to his face and kissing me deeply, my hands now
over him his over me, zippers zipping zipping down.

  "I'm on my period."

  "Yeah, I know, so?"

  "So, I'm real heavy this month."

  "So? We're both used to blood. Out of that coverall now,
bitch!"

  God, I do love it when he takes control like that even though
I'd never tell him so. His hand began rubbing padded panties
hard, rubbing and rubbing the crotch fabric with my Always Maxi
underneath it, inside of it, as he sucked on my nipples and
rubbed my maxied panties even more furiously.

  "My pad's having a lovely time, it thanks you for getting it
off, it had a nice orgasm, but now can I have some of that
attention too?" his face puzzled for a moment before getting the
joke and grinning as a whole bunch of little curious heads popped
up from various burrow entrances about one-twenty yards down the
slope in front of us as we garnered an audience to watch us, ten
then twelve then almost twenty live targets just watching us a
little before their appointments to be wasted.

  Neither of said a word as half-naked to-naked we grabbed our
pistols, rolled off each other and quickly took shots at the
first hog that came into our sights, me blowing my critter away
but Sweety missing his as some scattered and some dove back into
the burrow and some just stood there frozen volunteering to be
firing squaded. You'd have thought after being hunting almost
weekly they would have learned but there was always seemingly a
few stupid ones left for next week that needed to be culled out
of the evolutionary tree. We reloaded and shot at will for a full
five minutes, me naked except for bra and panties in the warming
morning chill inside our blind, my flow seemingly gopping heavier
in my panties the more excited I got the more I shot and hit
three then four then eight then nine groundhogs, a new single
morning kill record for me, all but one being single-shot drops
over a hundred yards downrange and a couple over two hundred
yards and this with a handgun mind you if it was T-C Contender
with a ten-inch barrel, all the while slightly freezing in my
underwear only and with my period in full flow. Shoot, if I could
snag ten kills on a single Saturday morning with this new .17 HMR
caliber round while naked and on my period, then, well, let's say
the assholes on I-40 going into Research Triangle Park in Monday
morning commuting traffic had better watch out!

  "Damn good shooting, Dear, I've never seen you shoot that good
before" he relaxing back in the blind as the last of the
non-stupid groundhogs finished going back into their massive
burrow complex, pouring me a cup of coffee from the stainless
Thermos he always considerately brings along with sandwiches and
snacks too.

  "Yeah, ten kills, nine one shot ones, the best I've ever done,
I just love this new round" my uterus cramping a tad from all my
excitement of the moment of having sent a couple of furry
families to groundhog heaven.

  I fished a new pad from my gear bag as I made a show of
changing it front of him, dropping my drawers to my knees and
peeling and rolling up the old one tossing it back in my Cabelo's
hunting gear bag and pressing the new one on inside my slightly
stained underwear, his eyes big and his mouth almost drooling
with anticipation.

  'Damn, Dear, you know how much I love you?" he grabbing me and
pulling me to his lap, his hand forced past my panties and pad
and into my bleeding slit.

  "You just wanna get laid, Mister, is all" I teased back.

  "Yeah, and what if I do?"

  "Then I think Dan'll Jr.'ll get laid if he wants to fuck
through some of my hot-blood."

  "Like a master hunter minds a little blood" he no longer
kissing me but forcing me to all fours before him.

  "Or a missus master hunter minds being fucked through her
sacrifice" his cock hard being rammed as hard inside me perfectly
with all the velocity of our new point seventeen caliber Hornaday
horny round, driving his bullet-cock home to my insides,
liquefying my uterus and guts into a dripping goo, my love for
him the red of my love- blood and the clear of my G-spot mixing
and dripping and flooding all over him and his cock, the hunter
now the hunted, the hunted now caught, willingly, hopefully,
forever.

= = = = = = = = = = 

Please visit my ASSTR Author's Page at:   /~Alpha_Betta_Fish/

Please feel free to contact me at:
alphabettafish AT Yahoo DOT Com