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From: purfect9@aol.com (Purfect 9)
Subject: STORYbyMISTY: The Deer Hunter (M/f; nc; anal; voyerism)
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DISCLAIMER:
The following copyrighted story contains sex, violence, and yes, an animal was
injured as well.
If you are under 18, don't read it unless your parents are with you. (you might
have to explain it to them)
If you are squeemish about rape, go elsewhere.
If you don't believe the 1st amendment applies to you or me, go to hell.

NOTES:  This story, first published in '96, was written by me after a Ted
Nugent concert.  Not being a hunter myself, I researched the story by watching
one of his outdoorsman videos, and visiting his shop.  And I must admit, I
envisioned the motor city madman in the title role while writing it.  So if he
wants a co-author credit, I give it to him without objection.

THE DEAR HUNTER: (nc;voyerism)

I'm not your average deer hunter.  I own a little land up north, where I built
a sturdy little cinder block bunker, just for my hunting trips.  Not much to
look at, really.  Four walls, two windows and a door. A cast iron stove for
heat and cooking, a port-a-potty in the corner.  All the back issues of
'playboy' that my woman thinks I threw out.  But during hunting season, I make
the place a little more comfy by bringing up my portable generator and a TV,
VCR, and electric light.  This year, I had a great idea!  Bought 4 used video
cameras at a pawn shop, and I picked up one of those video surveillance
monitors.  And a couple of thousand feet of co-ax cable (brown, so the deer
wouldn't notice)  I've got 3 tree blinds on my land, and I secured a camera
under each one(can't use the blinds to hunt from, 'cept during bow season). 
That way, I could watch from my bunker for any sign of the deer I was after.

And it wasn't just any deer.  I'd seen him on opening day.  Less than 100 yards
away.  It was the biggest deer I'd ever seen!  A friggin' horse with antlers! 
I shot, twice, and missed both times before he disappeared.  Me, with buck
fever? Not likely.  Damn sights musta been off.  Anyway, now it was personal. 
That buck would be mine.  And so would the $250 prize the local sportsman's bar
was offering in the 'best buck' contest.

Bright and early every morning, I looked out the windows as well as checked the
surveillance monitor as it flashed each camera view in rotation.  The one by
the stream, the one by the clearing, the one by the road, and the one on the
roof of the bunker(which I could rotate from inside.  Pretty clever, huh?) 
Another camera that I had some control over was the one by the road.  It was
the only camera that had come with a remote control, and to my utter surprise,
it worked all the way from the cabin.  This camera became my favorite for one
very important reason.  Every morning at 6:45 a beautiful blonde jogger would
run by.    And she would stop to stretch in the same spot every day before
continuing with her jog.  I re-adjusted the camera so her break spot was right
in the center of the frame.  She stretched, I watched, zooming in and out at
will.  What a cool way to wake up.  

One morning, just before 6:45, male jogger came along, stopped in her spot, and
turned off the road into the bushes.  This jogger was wearing dull earth tone
clothing (not wise during hunting season) and a ski mask.  I figured it must be
pretty cold out, but I couldn't tell with my stove still warm from last nights
fire.  As I watched, curiously, he pulled a nickel plated Colt 45 from his
pants, and now I understood why he had hidden in the bushes.  He wasn't a
jogger, but a fellow hunter, and he must have just seen a deer.  I checked to
see if my VCR was recording.  It was. (I had it set for 6:40, the noise it made
when it started woke me each morning, and the few minutes a day of my joggers
stretching exercises was turning into quite an aerobics collection.)  I hit the
manual record button anyway, so that it would keep recording even after its
6:50 shut off time.  If this jerk shot MY buck, on MY property using a HANDGUN
(illegal for hunting in this state) I wanted to get it on tape.  He was looking
up the road, his eyes following his prey as I prayed it would come into camera
range before he shot.  I checked to make sure the angle was as wide as it would
go.  It was.  Suddenly something came into view, but it wasn't a deer, it was
my jogger!  (Sure enough, 6:45)   Surely she would have scared away his deer?
But still he kept his stance, his aim.  When she was up to the bushes he jumped
out, startling her.  He pointed the gun at her (a clear violation of handgun
safety rules) and grabbed her, pulling her off into the bushes.

He quickly forced her to her knees, pulling her top and bra off roughly.  He
tangled his hand in her long blonde hair and pulled her head toward his groin. 
I zoomed in. He had stuffed the gun in his belt and undone his pants, and he
now wanted her to perform oral sex on him. But she kept twisting away. 
Finally, he pulled the gun out again and tapped the side of her head with it. 
She complied. After a while, he appeared to be coming in her mouth, then he
pulled back, forcing her to lay down on her back on the frosty earth.  

For the first time, I could see her breasts.  They were large and lovely, with
pink nipples, erect from the cold air.  He straddled her, sandwiching his dick
between her boobs as he struggled to pull off her sweatpants.  Then her
panties.  He leaned down and began to lick at her neatly trimmed bush while
again inserting his cock in her mouth.  Before long, he was hard again and he
quickly scampered around between her legs.  She just lay there, helpless as he
worked his way into her and began thrusting.  

After a while, he pulled out and rolled her over.  He straddled her again,
again up by her shoulders facing down toward her feet.  This gave me a clear
view of her buttocks.  Nice ass.  Anyway, he pulled a tube of lubricant from
his pocket, squeezing some onto his finger.  He parted her buttocks and cruelly
rammed his finger right up her ass!  She had been compliant up until then, but
she began to squirm a bit when he did that.  She couldn't really go anywhere
though with him sitting on her shoulders.  He scooted back then, once again
putting it in her mouth while he massaged her buns and fingered her butthole.  

Then he was on the move again, suddenly poised to pry his dick between her ass
cheeks.  Cruelly, he rammed deep with one thrust.  She tried to kick and
squirm, anything to pull away from him, but it was no use.  She tossed her head
from side to side, clenched and unclenched her fists, but eventually, she was
still.  Maybe she was trying to relax to ease the pain.  Maybe she had finally
gone into shock. Maybe she had passed out cold from the mental and physical
anguish brought on by the savage anal rape.  But he didn't seem to care.  He
reached around her with both hands and palmed her crushed boobs.  Then he
thrust harder, each buttock flattening thrust burying his boner balls deep in
her bowels.  Finally, he came.
He got up, adjusted his clothes, looked both ways and began to run back up the
road in the direction from which he came.  She began to stir.  Then she too got
up. Pulled her clothes on. Walked back up to the road, to her stretching spot. 
She did pause there for a minute, but did not stretch.  Then, she simply
continued on her route.

This is a true story.  And some of you Manly Men and outraged women may ask,
rightfully so, WHY THE FUCK DIDN'T I DO SOMETHING?!!!  Well, I'll tell ya.  The
thought did cross my mind.  But at any given time, in the time it took me to
get from my shed to the site of the rape, he could have been finished and
walking toward the road, toward me.  I could have lost the advantage of
surprise at any time without knowing it.  And he might not like the idea of my
being a witness.  True, we were both armed, but he had  the additional
advantage of being crazy.  Had gunplay erupted, I was dressed in orange and had
to pump between each shot, he could blend in with the bushes and shoot
repeatedly just by pulling his trigger. And what if that was 'buck fever' I had
on opening day.  How much more likely would I be to miss when shooting at a man
(even if he was a beast).  And if he killed me, he might as well go back and
kill her.  Why leave any witnesses.  No, the best place for me to help was
right here, manning the camera.  If he had taken off his mask, I could have
zoomed in on his face.  If he had shot her, I could have recorded that for
evidence (If they did catch him, the jury would surely convict upon actually
seeing a murder.)

And speaking of evidence, I planned to do the right thing with the tape.  Turn
it over to the police, just as soon as I erased the part of it up to where the
rape began (It wouldn't do to have all this footage of me watching her stretch
on those previous days.  They might think I had something to do with her rape. 
After all, the rapist must have had her under some sort of surveillance too, to
know just when and where to strike.)  So I rewound to the beginning of the
rape, and hit 'counter reset' so I'd know when to stop erasing.  Then I rewound
all the way, and hit 'record'.  This would take a while.  As I watched the
erasure begin, I set my monitor to rotate between the cameras once again.  HOLY
SHIT!  There, by the stream!  My buck was getting a drink!  I grabbed my gun
and lunged out the door.  I got as close as I dared, being up wind of him.  I
took aim, but my left arm began to tremble.  DAMN it's chilly out here.  STOP
SHIVERING.  He suddenly looked right at me.  SQUEEZE. nothing!  Fucking safety.
 Bastard wasn't even moving yet, but I couldn't keep him in my sights.  There.
SQUEEZE. BANG!  And he was on the run. BANG! BANG! BANG!...Dang!  I must have
at least nicked him.  No blood, anywhere. He had beaten me again, and I began
to walk back toward my cabin.  Shot at a couple of squirrels that were looking
at me funny.  Missed them too.  Then I remembered the tape, and began to run. 
But it was too late, I had fucked that up too.

Later at the sportsman's bar, I ran into a drinking buddy Sonny Gunther.  (When
his dad wasn't around, we called him 'Son of a Gunther'.) Sonny he was buying
everyone drinks with the prize money from the contest.  Even though the contest
wasn't officially over until Friday, he was showing a Polaroid to everybody in
the bar, and all the other hunters had conceded to his obvious victory.  Sure
enough, I recognized his trophy, but I just smiled and took a healthy swig of
the beer he'd bought me.  'So tell me, Sonny. What'd ya bring him down with?'

"You're gonna laugh.  And you gotta swear not to tell the guys.  But you know
that new shotgun I got this year?  Well, I'd left it back at my camper.  I was
drivin' back from town, down your street in fact, the son of a buck came
runnin' outta the woods at me, and ran right into the side of my truck. So I
grabbed my nickel plated Colt '45 outta the glove box, and just when he was
startin' to get up, I put one right through his heart from point blank range. 
Big fuckin' dent in my truck though.  Had to wait 'till a couple more guys came
cruisin' along 'cause it took 3 of us to lift that beast into the back of my
truck."

Now I'm a card carrying member of the NRA, and it pains me to have two
different guys in the same town on the same day breaking the damn handgun laws.
 (And what a wierd coincidence, eh? They both had nickel plated Colt '45s!)

"Hey everybody" shouted Sonny.  "what's a woman for?  Life support system for a
pussy!"  All the guys laughed. And, wanting to be one of the guys, I laughed
too.  It was eleven o clock, and the news was just coming on the bars' old
Magnavox.  The lead story, LOCAL MAN BAGS RECORD BREAKING BUCK.  In other news,
POLICE HAVE NO CLUES AS THE DEER SEASON RAPIST STRIKES AGAIN, THIS TIME AGAINST
A LOCAL MINISTERS WIFE.

If it did turn out that the rapist was a deer hunter, how would that ministers
wife feel every November 15th.  Like a scared deer, I wonder.  Could it be that
a rapist is to a woman exactly what a hunter is to a deer?  Just a preditor
looking for meat?  Sonny invited us all over for a cookout the following Sunday
after church, but oddly, I found I had lost my appetite for venison.


---M
Visit my web-site:
Http://members.aol.com/purfect9
Most of my stories are copyrighted, and my not be posted or archived
by anyone but me.  


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