The Gift She Chose for Him
# The Hunter’s Trail The mountain air was crisp and thin, a sharp contrast to the warmth pooling low in C’s belly. He adjusted the strap of his daypack, the unfamiliar weight of it—and the even more unfamiliar sensation beneath his hiking
Chapter 1
The mountain air was crisp and thin, a sharp contrast to the warmth pooling low in C’s belly. He adjusted the strap of his daypack, the unfamiliar weight of it—and the even more unfamiliar sensation beneath his hiking shorts—making him feel off-kilter. Maya had been insistent this morning, her eyes gleaming with a secret as she’d pressed the small, silky bundle into his hand.
“Wear these,” she’d whispered, her breath hot against his ear. “For the surprise. And don’t look back.”
Now, miles from the trailhead, the “surprise” felt less like a gift and more like a provocation. The delicate lace of the panties she’d chosen for him, a scandalous secret against his skin, chafed with every step. It was a constant, humiliating reminder of her control, a whisper against his flesh that said he was hers to decorate and direct. He was a shy man by nature, comfortable in quiet corners and predictable routines. This—the vast, echoing wilderness, the unknown purpose—set his nerves alight.
He paused at a switchback, leaning against a sun-warmed boulder to catch his breath. The silence of the high forest was profound, broken only by the distant cry of a hawk. That’s when he heard it. The soft, deliberate crunch of gravel under a boot, too close and too rhythmic to be an animal.
A voice, low and honeyed with a thick Southern drawl, cut through the quiet from somewhere to his left. “Well, hey there. You look a mite lost, sugar.”
C spun, his heart hammering against his ribs. A woman leaned against a pine tree a dozen yards away. She was slim and wiry, with blonde hair woven into a severe, practical braid over one shoulder. Her blue eyes held a wicked, knowing light, and her smile was all sharp edges.
Before he could stammer a reply, another voice, richer and laced with amusement, came from his right. “Lost? Nah, N. I’d say he’s right where he’s s’posed to be.”
C turned again. The second woman was a study in contrasts to the first. She was powerfully built, muscles evident under her tight tank top, with a shock of short, fiery red hair. Intricate tattoos snaked down her corded arms. Her smile was a mocking slash, and her green eyes pinned him where he stood.
N pushed off from the tree, her movements fluid and predatory. “Maya sends her regards,” she said, the polite words rendered menacing by her tone.
M chuckled, a deep, rolling sound. “And her instructions. Said we might find you… underdressed for the occasion.”
Heat flooded C’s face. The secret beneath his shorts seemed to blaze, exposed by their twin gazes. Every instinct screamed to run, but a deeper, shameful current of excitement held him frozen. This was the obstacle, the raised stake Maya had engineered: his own quiet nature, pitted against their confident, domineering presence. They wanted to hunt. And despite the fear, a treacherous part of him desperately wanted to be caught.
Chapter 2
N’s laugh was a sharp, delighted sound. “Bless your heart, you’re blushing harder than a summer tomato. What’s the matter, sugar? Mountain air gettin’ to you?”
“Or is it the company?” M added, pushing off from her tree and taking a slow, deliberate step forward. Her heavy boots crunched on the pine needles. “Maya said you’d be shy. Said we might have to… persuade you to play.”
C’s mouth went dry. The word ‘play’ hung in the thin air, loaded and dangerous. He took an instinctive step back, his heel skidding on loose gravel.
“Now, now,” N chided, her voice a silken threat as she mirrored M’s advance from the other side. “Ain’t no use in that. We got a whole itinerary. First item is… inventory.” She nodded at M. “Check his pack, darlin’. See what our boy brought for his little hike.”
Before C could protest, M was behind him, her strong hands pulling the daypack from his shoulders with ease. He spun, but N was suddenly right in front of him, close enough for him to see the flecks of grey in her wicked blue eyes.
“Easy,” she purred, placing a firm hand on his chest. Her touch burned through his thin t-shirt. “You just stand pretty for us.”
“Got it,” M said from behind, her voice brimming with amusement. He heard the rustle of fabric as she unzipped the main compartment. “Water bottle… energy bar… and what’s this?” She held up a small, black rectangular object. A compact video camera. “Ah. For the memories.” She clicked it on, and a tiny red recording light began to glow.
A cold wave of realization crashed over C. This was real. The filming was real.
“Second item,” N said, her gaze dropping meaningfully to the waistband of his hiking shorts. “The dress code verification.” Her fingers hooked into the elastic. “Maya has exquisite taste. Let’s see if you followed instructions.”
C whimpered, a soft, helpless sound as N’s thumb dipped beneath the fabric, tracing the line of his hip bone. She found the lace edge of the panties and tugged, just enough to make him gasp.
“Oh my,” M drawled from behind, the camera now pointed at them. “Will you look at that? All pretty in lace.” She stepped close again, her muscular frame pressing against C’s back, trapping him between them. Her breath was hot on his neck. “You like wearin’ her things for us, don’tcha?”
N’s other hand came up to cup his jaw, forcing him to look at her. “Use your words, sweet thing.”
The dual assault was overwhelming—the humiliating exposure at his hips, the solid heat at his back, the unblinking eye of the camera. A traitorous shiver ran through him that had nothing to do with fear.
“I… I don’t…” he stammered.
“He does,” M answered for him, her voice a low rumble against his spine. One of her tattooed arms snaked around his waist, her hand splaying possessively over his stomach. “He just needs some convincin’. And we got all day.”
Chapter 3
“Alright, sugar,” N purred, her fingers still hooked in his waistband. “Time to stop all that nervous shufflin’. On your knees.”
C tried to resist, a feeble push against the wall of their bodies, but M’s arm around his waist was an unyielding band of muscle. With a sharp, effortless motion, she drove him forward. His knees hit the packed earth and dry pine needles with a soft thud, the impact jarring up his spine.
“Good boy,” M rumbled from above him, her hands already rifling through his pack again. “Knew you’d see reason.” She pulled out the coiled length of nylon rope he’d packed for emergencies. “Hands behind your back, now. Don’t make me ask twice.”
Trembling, C complied, crossing his wrists at the small of his back. The rope was cool and rough as M began to wind it, her movements practiced and efficient. Each loop pulled tighter, securing his arms in a helpless, immobile V. The camera, set on a rock nearby, continued its silent, blinking vigil.
As M finished the knot with a firm tug, N knelt in front of him. She cupped his face, her thumb stroking his cheek. “There now. That’s a proper start.” Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper, her warm breath washing over his ear. “You just wait, darlin’. Once we get you somewhere a bit more private, I’m gonna peel those pretty little panties off with my teeth. Then I’m gonna see if that shy mouth of yours is good for anything ‘sides stammering.”
A hot shudder wracked C’s bound body. Before he could process her words, M was crouching behind him, her lips brushing his other ear. Her voice was a dark, smoky contrast.
“She gets the front, I get the back,” M whispered, the promise vibrating through him. “That tight little ass of yours is gonna look so pretty when I’m done with it. Gonna work you open with my fingers first, nice and slow, ‘til you’re beggin’ for it. Then I’m gonna fuck you with that strap Maya packed for us ‘til you forget your own name.”
N leaned in again, her braid brushing his shoulder. “And I’ll be right here, sugar, makin’ you suck on me while she’s takin’ you. Gonna spit-roast you proper. You’re gonna come so hard you’ll see stars, and this cute little camera’s gonna catch every single, shameful second of it for your wife.”
The explicit, dual-toned promises swirled in C’s head, a filthy, terrifying symphony. The crude words shouldn’t have sent a bolt of pure, aching need straight to his cock, which strained painfully against the lace confining it. He was utterly bound, completely at their mercy, and the deepest, most secret part of him was screaming in thrilled submission.
N stood, brushing the dirt from her knees. “Up you get, darlin’.” She and M each took an arm, hauling him to his feet. “Walk time. We got a nice spot picked out down by the creek. All that water noise… ain’t nobody gonna hear you whimper.”
Chapter 4
True to her word, M knelt behind C, her knees settling in the soft earth on either side of his bound legs. Her strong, tattooed hands slid up his inner thighs, the rough pads of her fingers tracing the sensitive skin through his shorts. He trembled violently, a soft gasp escaping him as her thumbs brushed the crease of his groin.
“Shhh, now,” she murmured, her voice a low, smoky promise against the back of his neck.
Her fingers found the hem of his shorts and the delicate lace beneath. With a firm, deliberate grip, she seized the fabric of the panties. The lace bit into his skin for a heart-stopping moment before she began to peel them down.
“Well, darlin’,” she whispered, her deep Southern drawl dripping with sarcastic delight as the cool mountain air hit his exposed skin. “Since you’re already wearin’ such a pretty invitation, how ‘bout we get these outta the way and see what you’re really packin’ for us?”
She yanked the lace down his thighs and past his knees, leaving him completely bare and achingly hard. A choked sound of humiliation and want caught in C’s throat.
N, watching from the front with a wicked grin, gave a low whistle. “My, my. Maya wasn’t exaggeratin’. You are a sight.” She stepped forward, her boot nudging his legs further apart. “Look at that, M. All worked up and presentin’ himself so nice. Bet he’s been thinkin’ ‘bout this all mornin’.”
“I know I have,” M said, her hands returning to cup his bare ass, kneading the flesh with a possessive roughness that made him jerk against his bindings. One thumb swept down, pressing firmly against his tight, hidden entrance. C cried out, a sharp, needy sound he didn’t recognize as his own.
“Oh, he’s sensitive back here,” M announced, her voice thick with amusement. She leaned in, her breath hot on his skin. “Gonna be so much fun to open you up, sugar. You gonna take it for me? Gonna let me stretch that pretty little hole ‘til you’re beggin’?”
“He will,” N answered for him, her fingers tangling in his hair to yank his head up. Her other hand worked at the button of her own shorts. “He’s gonna be a good boy and use that mouth of his while you’re workin’ him open. Ain’t that right?”
C could only manage a frantic nod, his world narrowing to the dual points of contact: the invasive, promising pressure at his back and the dominant grip in his hair. The camera’s red light blinked steadily from the rock, capturing every shiver, every helpless expression. He was utterly displayed, his deepest shame and most secret desire laid bare for their appraisal and their use. The game had truly begun, and he was already losing himself in it.
Chapter 5
With a possessive hand on each hip, N guided C’s bound body up from the ground. He gasped as his weight settled onto his knees, the rough forest floor biting into his skin. She pulled his hips back until he was properly presented, his bare ass in the air, his face pressed into the pine needles. The camera’s red light was a steady, accusing eye from the rock beside them.
“There now, sugar. That’s the position,” N purred, her voice dripping with that honeyed Southern menace. She ran a cool hand down the curve of his spine, making him shiver. “Time to see if you can take what we’ve been promising you. Gonna be a real test of your manners.”
M moved into his line of sight, her muscular frame crouching low. She held up a small bottle of lube, clicking the cap open with her thumb. The sound was obscenely loud in the quiet clearing. “Don’t you worry, darlin’,” she said, her green eyes glinting. “We’re professionals. We’ll get you nice and ready. But you gotta breathe for us.”
C tried, his breaths coming in ragged hitches. He felt N shift behind him, then the slick, cool pressure of a single finger circling his most private hole. He jerked, a strangled sound escaping his throat.
“Easy,” N soothed, but her touch was relentless. “Just a little preview.” She pressed the tip of her finger inside, a slow, burning stretch that stole the air from his lungs. “Oh yeah. You’re tight as a drum, ain’tcha? Gonna feel so good when you give way.”
From the front, M unbuckled her own shorts, pushing them down just enough. She took his chin in her hand, forcing his gaze up. “Eyes on me, boy. You’re gonna open that pretty mouth now. N’s gonna be workin’ you open back here, and you’re gonna be tastin’ me up here. A proper introduction.”
C whimpered as N’s finger slid deeper, a deliberate, stretching curl that sparked a shocking bolt of pleasure through the pain. At the same time, M guided herself to his lips. The intimate, musky scent of her filled his senses. “Go on,” M commanded, her voice a low growl. “Suck. And you better be good at it.”
Tears of overwhelm and desperate arousal pricked C’s eyes as he obeyed, his mouth opening for her. The dual violation was absolute—filled at both ends, completely at their mercy. N’s finger began a slow, rhythmic thrust, each movement coaxing his body to relax, to accept, while M set a demanding pace with her hips.
“That’s it,” N whispered behind him, adding a second slick finger. The stretch was immense, burning and perfect. “You’re takin’ it so good. Just you wait ‘til you feel the real thing.”
Chapter 6
The world narrowed to the duel of sensations: the slick, stretching burn of N’s fingers working him open from behind, and the thick, salty weight of M on his tongue. His jaw ached, but a deeper, more shameful ache bloomed low in his gut, a coil of heat tightening with every expert thrust.
“You taste that, sweetheart?” M growled, her hands fisting in his hair to control the pace. Her hips rolled, pushing deeper into his mouth. “That’s what you’re earnin’. You suck my cock this good, maybe I’ll be nice when it’s my turn to wreck that tight little ass.”
N crooned her agreement, her fingers scissoring inside him with purposeful cruelty. “Oh, he’s earnin’ it, alright. Losin’ that shy-boy fight real pretty. Feel how he’s startin’ to push back on my hand? Bet he’s drippin’ for us.”
C moaned around M, the sound vibrating against her. He was. A slick, traitorous leak of his own arousal dampened his stomach, proof of the pleasure he was wrenching from his own humiliation. The camera was a silent witness to his total ruin.
“Think he’s ready?” N asked, her voice a blade of pure anticipation.
M pulled herself from his mouth with a wet pop, letting him gasp for air. She looked down at him, her green eyes blazing. “Let’s find out.” She reached for her pack, pulling out a thick, black strap-on harness. The silicone phallus attached to it was intimidatingly large, glinting in the dappled light. “Time for the main event, darlin’. You remember your safeword?”
C could only nod, his throat too raw to speak, his body trembling not just with fear, but with a desperate, eager need.
“Good boy,” N purred, finally removing her fingers. The sudden emptiness was its own agony. She helped M secure the harness, the sight of the redhead strapping on the cock that would soon be inside him sending a fresh jolt through C’s system.
M moved behind him, her muscular thighs framing his bound ones. The broad, cool tip of the silicone pressed against his stretched, throbbing entrance. N knelt in front of him again, capturing his tear-streaked face in her hands.
“Look at me, sugar,” she commanded, her wicked smile softening into something more terrifying: absolute certainty. “This is what you wanted. This is what Maya paid for. You’re gonna take every damn inch, and you’re gonna thank us for it. Now breathe out.”
C obeyed, exhaling a shaky sob. As he did, M pushed forward.
The invasion was immense, a slow, brutal conquest that burned away every last pretense. He cried out, the sound ripped from his chest, as she sheathed herself to the hilt, her pelvis flush against his ass. For a moment, he was nothing but filled, speared, owned.
“God, yes,” M groaned, her hands gripping his hips like a vise. “Told you he’d be perfect. Tighter than a fist.”
N leaned in, her breath ghosting over his lips. “Now, sugar,” she whispered. “It’s my turn.” She guided his mouth back to her, and as M began to move, pulling out and driving back in with deep, punishing strokes, C lost himself completely in the rhythm of their use.
Chapter 7
The rhythm they set was brutal and perfect. M’s hips pistoned against his ass, each deep, claiming drive forcing a choked sound from C’s throat, which was immediately swallowed by N. She held his head still, fucking his mouth with slow, savoring rolls of her own.
“Listen to him, M,” N gasped, her fingers tightening in his hair. “Every time you bottom out, he whimpers right against my clit. Like a sweet little prayer.”
“He’s prayin’ for mercy he ain’t gonna get,” M grunted, her hands a searing brand on his hips. She leaned over his back, her sweat-slick skin pressed against him. “You feel that, darlin’? That’s me, fillin’ up every last bit of space your wife never touched. You’re our good boy now.”
The words, filthy and possessive, lit a fire in C’s gut. His own cock, trapped and neglected between his belly and the forest floor, leaked a steady stream of pre-cum onto the dirt. The shame of it was molten, merging with the overwhelming pleasure of being so completely used.
N pulled back, letting him drag in a ragged breath. “Look at me, sugar.” He forced his glazed eyes to focus on her wicked blue gaze. She was smiling, her lips swollen and glistening. “You wanna come, don’t you? You’re so hard it’s gotta hurt.”
He could only manage a weak, desperate nod.
“Uh-uh,” M sang from behind him, punctuating the denial with a particularly sharp thrust that made him cry out. “Not yet. You don’t get to come from just takin’ it. You gotta earn it. You gotta beg for it.”
N’s smile widened. “You heard her. Beg. Tell us what you need.”
The humiliation crested, a wave that crashed over him and left only raw, honest need in its wake. His voice was a broken, husky thing. “Please… please, let me come. I need it. I’ve been so good for you.”
“Who do you need it from?” M demanded, never slowing her relentless pace.
“From you,” he sobbed, the words tumbling out. “From both of you. Please, M… fuck me harder. Please, N… let me taste you again. I’ll do anything.”
N’s eyes flashed with triumph. “Anything?” She shifted, swinging a leg over his shoulders to straddle his face, lowering herself onto his mouth. “Then clean me up, good boy. Get me nice and wet for what’s next.”
As C’s tongue dove into her heat, lapping desperately at her swollen flesh, M’s thrusts became faster, more frenzied. The world dissolved into a symphony of wet sounds, skin slapping against skin, and his own muffled, pleading moans. The peak was a trembling promise, hovering just out of reach, a delicious torment they controlled completely.
Chapter 8
N’s fingers dug into his jaw, holding his face immobile as she rolled her hips in a filthy, deliberate grind against his mouth. “That’s it, sugar. Taste it. Taste how wet I get knowin’ you’re takin’ every damn inch of her.”
From behind, M’s hand fisted in his hair, yanking his head back in a sharp, painful arch as she slammed into him, her cock pounding his ass with a brutal, rhythmic force that stole the air from his lungs. “Look at him, N,” she grunted, her Southern drawl thick with exertion and malice. “Eyes all rolled back. He’s in heaven.”
“He is,” N purred, leaning closer, her blue eyes burning into his. “He loves this. Loves bein’ our bound little fucktoy. Don’t you, C? Admit it.”
He couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe, lost in the dual violation. His body was a live wire, strung tight between their relentless use. The coil in his gut wound tighter, a screaming pressure he could no longer contain.
“I can feel him clenchin’,” M growled, her pace turning frantic, punishing. “He’s gonna come. He’s gonna spill his pathetic load in the dirt like the bitch he is.”
“Do it,” N commanded, her voice a sharp whip. “Come for us. Come like the owned, filthy plaything you are.”
The permission shattered him. With a ragged, broken cry that vibrated against N’s skin, C’s body convulsed. Pleasure, white-hot and humiliating, ripped through him as he came, untouched, his release spurting onto the forest floor beneath him in helpless, pulsing jets.
M drove into him one last, deep time, a satisfied groan tearing from her throat as she followed him over, her own climax hot and claiming inside him. N shuddered, grinding down hard on his mouth as her own peak hit, her sweet, sharp taste flooding his senses as she cried out.
For a long moment, there was only the sound of heavy breathing and the distant wind. M slowly pulled out, letting his hair go. N lifted herself from his face, wiping a hand across her glistening thighs before releasing his jaw.
C collapsed forward, boneless and spent, his cheek pressed into the cool earth. The sharp scents of sex and pine filled his nose. He was utterly wrecked, completely theirs.
N knelt beside his head, her hand surprisingly gentle as she smoothed his sweaty hair. “There now. That’s a good boy.” Her smile was all wicked satisfaction. “Maya’s gonna love the footage.”