Sunday, April 13, 2014

The Hunter Becomes the Hunted

The grizzled clerk sneered at me as I placed my purchases on the counter: a camouflage coat and hat, duct tape, and a hunting knife I grabbed as an afterthought simply because I wanted to see it in Frank’s hand. “What are you hunting for, sweetheart?” he laughed. He was missing about six teeth. If he’d bothered to look he probably could’ve found them in his filthy beard.
I really, really wanted to tell him who I was hunting just to see the look on his face, but he’d never believe me. Not even after hearing about the body, which was why I was the one buying camo gear and Frank was buying some innocent looking pajamas for my bait costume. “I’m hunting unicorn,” I lisped. “Only us gays can see them. You don’t even need a permit. And they’re fucking delicious.” I slapped some cash down on the counter and took my stuff without waiting for a bag. Or change. Then I saw our mark, standing right out in the open like a deer in a clearing.
He smirked at me, and I realized that he must’ve heard the entire exchange. “Don’t you sell ladies gear, Dwight?”
I scowled and pushed past him. He was so dead!
I stormed across the parking lot, somehow refraining from breaking in my new knife on the clerk’s pickup truck. But I wasted no time in showing my displeasure the moment I got home. “I want to shoot him!”
“Why’s that?” Frank asked from the bed, briefly lowering Sense & Sensibility. There was a hunting rifle on the table, and a set of red fleece pajamas with snowflakes on them.
“I’m not wearing those.”
He sighed and sat up, setting the book down on the bed. “Come here.”
I tossed my stuff on the table and curled up on his lap. “Fucking white trash rednecks around here.”
“What happened?”
“That stupid jerk made fun of me. In front of our mark!”
Frank’s eyebrows shot up his forehead. “You ran into our mark?”
“He was at the shop.”
He gave me a stern look. “And now you want to kill him?”
I knew how he felt about making things personal, but he knew how I felt about being treated like a little girl. “I’m a better hunter than they are.”
“Yes, you are. And one of the most important skills a hunter can have is the ability to go undetected. You’re better at it because they would never suspect you.”
“So can I kill him?”
“Absolutely not! It’s my turn.”
I couldn’t really argue with that, since the last four had been sniper jobs and therefore Vincent jobs. “Will you at least let me tell him that he’s about to die?”
“You can tell him whatever you’d like.”
“I told them I was hunting a unicorn.”
Frank pondered that for a moment, clearly not seeing the connection. “He got a good look at you?”
“You know what that means,” he said with a smirk.
It meant I’d need assistance becoming less recognizable. “I bought duct tape!”
He slapped me. I slapped him back out of habit, and then suddenly he was on top of me, tugging my hair out of my skull while he worked on kissing bruises onto my face. His book was digging into my shoulder and I flung it to the floor, only to get slapped again. He climbed off the bed, retrieving his book, and the duct tape.
I tossed my shirt across the room, squirming out of my pants while he set his book safely on the nightstand and got undressed. He laid his clothes out as if he’d bother putting the same ones back on again whether they were wrinkled or not, then grinned and knelt behind me, holding out the tape.
“Hands behind your back,” he ordered. I rested my stinging cheek against the bed and obeyed, crossing my wrists instead of putting my palms together so I’d have less leverage to pull free. He wound the tape around, then pulled me up by my arms so I was on my knees. Ripping a piece off with his teeth, he stamped it over my mouth before letting me fall back to the bed. “There. It’s perfect.”
I growled at him around the tape, but all was forgiven when he traced his fingers up the inside of my thigh. “He’ll take the tape off when he rescues you, and then you can talk to him.” I nodded, since anyone who met me would realize that the very first thing a kidnapper would do was put a gag on my mouth. The mark had only seen me for a minute and must’ve already thought I talked too much.
Frank reached between my legs, gently running his fingers over the underside of my cock. I arched my back, raising my hips to him and silently begging for him to be inside of me, a reminder that there could be nothing emasculating about something that felt this good.
He smacked me hard across the ass, his fingertips wet from teasing me. The tape tore at my lips as I gasped, my mouth stuck closed. “For my book,” he said simply, then shoved his wet fingers in me. The tape held tight while I moaned, grinding my ass against his hand. Then he cruelly slid his fingers out. “Also for my book.”
“Mrhmfrrf,” I grumbled, burying my face in the blanket so he wouldn’t have the satisfaction of seeing me suffer.
Frank gripped my bound wrists one-handed, lifting my head off the bed and pressing the tip of his cock into me just enough to make me squirm against my restraints. He held me to him, pressing deeper but never deep enough, suspending me by my arms. I raised my head, craning my neck back and arching my whole body towards his. I could feel the strain in my shoulders and I groaned in discomfort as much as pleasure, trying to rear back against him only to have him painfully raise my arms and tilt his hips away completely.
The tape was tearing at the skin on my wrists while I struggled, as if freeing my arms would actually bring me any relief when he was refusing to fuck me. I dropped my head in defeat, my body aching for him. Frank laughed quietly and said, “Your new pajamas are adorable. Don’t you agree?”
I nodded in desperation and he finally forced his cock inside me with one rewarding thrust. I moaned, my arms trembling to support our weight as he shoved his body into mine, sliding his cock nearly all the way out before slamming it back in. The increasing pain was the only thing keeping me from coming and I relished in his power over me, knowing he would release me before it went too far.
Just as I felt like my arms would snap I started to come, and he dropped me to the bed, gently rocking his hips against me while I caught my breath. He leaned his body over mine, soothingly warm on my throbbing limbs as I lay there, spent and completely at his mercy.
I whimpered when he grabbed my cock, pulling me closer to him while he thrust so deeply it felt like I was utterly consumed by him. He raked his other hand through my hair, pounding me harder as he got close, squeezing my cock so I was moaning along with him as he came.
He relaxed onto me, panting but still not putting his full weight on my arms. But when he raised himself off and started tugging at the tape on my wrists, I urgently mumbled, “Hmrrhmhmmrhhm.”
He leaned over and very carefully inched the tape off my mouth. “What dear?”
I smiled at him and said, “Use the knife.”
He glanced over to the table where I’d left his hunting gear and hopped off the bed. I rolled over to admire his nude body while he struggled with the ridiculous plastic packaging. I was almost hard again by the time he used another knife to get it open. He sliced the tape on my wrists, holding me on his lap to rub my shoulders as I pulled the scraps off myself. “The pajamas are very similar to something his kid was wearing in a Christmas photo. That’s why I picked them. Plus you’ll be visible. And warm.”
“I love them.”
He rolled his eyes. “I bought them big. You can wear your regular clothes underneath.”
“Thank you.”
“You will look adorable.” He roughly squeezed my shoulders, then kissed my head. “Especially with the tape.”

Having my wrists tied behind my back wasn’t nearly as much fun when Frank wasn’t also behind my back. I kicked at the leaves and bounced around making noise, my throat raw from screaming through the tape. When I heard footsteps approaching I settled down on the floor of the clearing, the knees of my pajamas soaking up mud.
Our mark’s expression was almost comical when he saw me, and he ran through the dried leaves, bobbing over fallen branches and twigs with his rifle in his hand. He dropped to his knees at my side, putting his arms around me like his first concern was whether I were warm enough instead of the fact that I was bound and gagged in the middle of the woods. “Who did this? Who did this?”
“Oh,” he said dumbly, and ripped the tape off my face.
“Sorry.” He petted my head, then cut the tape off my wrists with his hunting knife. Needless to say it was smaller than Frank’s, and not at all exciting. I moved away from him and rubbed my poor lips as he continued bumbling, “Are you okay? Who did this?”
“Frank? Frank who?”
I shook my head in exasperation. Whoever paid to have him killed should’ve really let natural selection take its toll. The guy was bound to chase a butterfly off a cliff or something soon enough. “I have two words for you: Bambi’s mom.”
His throat exploded and he fell over, nearly landing on me.
“I wasn’t finished!”
Frank came walking out from behind the trees with his rifle still raised, as if our mark wasn’t already bleeding out all over the muddy fall foliage. “You said ‘two words.’”
“That was for dramatic effect,” I pouted.
He lowered his gun. “Sorry, baby.”
I shrugged and stood up. “It’s okay. At least I got the last word.”
Frank held my chin in his hand, surveying the damage to my mouth. He glanced at the corpse and released me, like he was satisfied with the man’s punishment over abrading my skin. “What did he do to her mother?”
I laughed. Of course Frank wouldn’t get the reference. “He shot her.”
“You’re kidding? No wonder she wanted him killed.”
“His mother-in-law. He shot her?”
“The hunter’s wife was named Bambi?”
“I thought I told you that.” Frank knit his eyebrows when I laughed at the irony, like he was no longer sure he knew what was going on. “Who were you talking about?”
In order to make any sense I’d have to start at the beginning, explaining Disney’s hold on most normal children before I could even get to what happened to Bambi. And I still had to explain the connection between unicorns and rainbows and gay people. Instead I just mashed it all together and started, “Once upon a time there was a gay unicorn named Bambi...”


  1. As I wrote before... Frank and Vincent are my legitimate reason to sigh romantically when an assassin takes duct tape out of his bag...
    Great hit, Nicole!
    I'm really excited about Les Recidivists. :)

  2. Awww, thanks! Nothing more romantic than duct tape.