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Prey
by The Old Man
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© Copyright 2010 - The Old Man - Used by permission
Storycodes: F/m; D/s; bond; hunt; bag; bdsm; wrap; bandages; liquidlatex; encase; enema; cons; X
Google translation
Prey The Old Man F/m; D/s; bond; hunt; bag; bdsm; wrap; bandages; liquidlatex; encase; enema; cons; X
 

She had a few moments to lookup some emails. Negotiations on price with two clients, and an answer to her standard questionnaire, with a pleading note in the comments section were what She found. She spared a moment to light a cigarette and flipped over her makeup room looking for that damned Pith helmet. Telling herself again that She enjoyed this sort of role play. Even the money, a lot of which was burned up in props and costumes, was useful, though her deceased Uncle's diamond mine made her rather wealthy enough. The alarm panel sounded softly detecting an opening door to the Australian outback plains. Her prey was out on his (hopefully) failed escape attempt. The game was afoot… but his hands useless trapped at his sides in the steel belt… She had time to sit and reflect on life's little foibles.

Uncle left her this Station (ranch) when he died 7 years ago. He might have been the only one in the world who understood her at all. Her lack of interest in the normal life her family had tried to set her up in was a source of amusement to her reclusive and eccentric uncle. He always came around to visit the family in the old country during the holidays embarrassing the family with the extravagance of his gifts. She was never singled out for anything extra special, but Uncle seemed more genuinely inclined to spend long hours at her side on walks and talks. As She grew, he would tell her fabulous tales of his life on his quite secluded Station in Australia. Indeed it was about 150 miles from the nearest edge of Melbourne. some three hours to reach by motor car. She asked him once about his finances… when She was a late teenager and such matters had become more important to her… He answered back in a riddle… palming a diamond into her hand, "Just follow in my shoes" he said… She wouldn't grasp the significance of his words until his death, and her stepping into her own portion of his will. Her inheritance was in fact the Station…

He left detailed instructions for her. On his death bed in Melbourne hospital he penned a private letter to her. Telling her where to start unraveling the secrets of his wealth, which he knew would make life all the more bare-able for his increasingly reclusive Niece. The Diamond "mine" itself was one of those blue dirt funnels in the ground where a few days digging would turn up enough raw carots to pay for the bills in running the station, though it being quite remote was almost self-sufficient anyway. One of the modern touches She did buy was a sturdy Landrover, and a satellite high-speed modem hookup for her side business. After all She was reclusive and generally a loner for sure. The truth be told. She found cultivating regular romantic relationships a terrible strain. She much preferred being an exclusive Domina Mistress with an expensive price tag. Remarkably business was very good indeed.

She could do it all. Baby play, changing diapers wasn't her thing but She would agree to it from time to time. The clients would usually spend a few days with her. She lived for the Dominant roles… Strict disciplinarian to "escaped prisoners" or being an "Evil nurse" were some of the more common fantasies listed as responses to her questionnaire. She had scoured every X rated toy shop She could find and had a fully equipped Dungeon below ground for the proper treatment of those so interested. Those things that were of a special nature could be commissioned to be built by a few trusted craftsmen she had met at Fetish conventions.

This client, the one who just "breached" her security system was a return customer. In fact one of her favorites, though She couldn't "let on". The young male heir to a small wealthy African nation's crown. She prized him for his even dark skin and his perfect muscular body. He was hung like a Zebra. She still remembered last years sessions, chasing him through the fenced in Billabong, marveling at the perfection of his firm naked rump, catching sight of his massive balls swing beneath his legs as he would clear a hedge… This year he requested to play the part of a trophy antelope and suggested limiting the use of his hands. So no more jumping hedges… Oh and one more thing, If he managed to evade her this third day for 7 hours he could get half his money back, If not She got to "keep" him another week and charge another week for service of a treatment of her own choice.

She smoothed the pleats of her Safari shorts and squared the pith helmet on her head. The "paint ball" rifle was ready as were her pack horse… One hours head start would seem insurmountable to catch him except the terrain surrounding the usual foot paths were set with "man-traps". So with a bit of luck this time around it wouldn't be just a case of running him down. Perhaps he would find himself in one of the interesting predicaments those traps could afford. Besides the metal band that he insisted on handicapping himself with this time was magnetic and She had a powerfully sensitive magnetometer to guide her to her quarry. Not that it mattered all that much. The course was set as a horse shoe shape. Very subtly curving around so that the start and end points were 2 kilometers close together. She could if She wanted just stand in the center of it and discern her preys movements through the course.

The first part of Her chase was spent examining his footprints. She could see he had learned a bit about evasion since last year. The prints were all jumbled up close to center and She had to widen the ring of search out to finally discover the sole set of prints leading out of the area… The horse's hooves were muffled with cloth sacks and She took great care in moving through the scrub savanna quietly in search of her prize "Antelope". The Magnetometer was clipped to the belt at her waist so She could see the indicator light now just beginning to flicker fitfully indicating direction. She had the high ground on the path the 'safe' point for her Antelope was 5 miles away if he followed the path. She would eventually see him through the trees that were more sparse along the trail and grew together more thickly away from it, where the traps were set. He might see her moving towards him, If he, wasn't too intent on looking forward and not behind him. She caught sight of him in the distance at last.

Her prey was moving (stumbling) towards the gorge part of the course. A point where the path would dip below the rocky ground and run a half kilometer before emerging once again at ground level. She had arranged a parallel horse path just above it. It would be the first time She had used it, but a vertical shot downwards would be just as effective in splattering him with the game ending paint, as any other. She moved across the horseshoe, and to the entrance of the gorge path finally arriving at a point above, just before his entrance into its narrows. The horse stood quiet, the only sound was prey's breathing and the sound of his bare feet scuttling along the pathway. An overhanging log blocked her from his view, though it wasn't necessary. Most prey tended to keep their eyes on the pathway and never bothered to look up. He passed 25 feet from her, She took aim at the spot between his shoulders and squeezed the trigger. He was powdered with an orange dye right at her point of aim. It should have been game over, but the antelope started sprinting away from her again rewarding her with a view of that magnificent backside with its muscles in rhythmic ripple, and those cute bells bouncing between his legs.

She did what any hunter would do when assured of a kill shot. She waited a few moments watching the direction her trophy antelope had taken. She used her binoculars to watch him as he left the gorge and climbed the embankment to the north ridge. Above ground She could track the orange blaze on his back as it crossed the adjacent horse path and stumbled into the jungle. Her mind checked off the various sorts of man-traps She had set in that portion and She smiled. Slowly She gathered her horses, in the distance she barely heard the faint snapping sound.

Bits of orange powder on the forest floor and leaves led to a hole in the ground… She herself had lost count of how many of these sack traps She had installed. A camouflaged pit 3 metres across and 3 metres wide was set almost 4 metres deep. The top of the hole was surrounded by a metal ring, onto which was fastened the open end of a funnel shaped fishing net. When prey, such as the struggling antelope, fell in, their weight forced them down hopefully feet first into the narrow section of the net, the rest of the net being so weighted would close around the prey as a venus flytrap plant would close around a hapless insect. So she found her antelope writhing suspended and conveniently wrapped. It was a simple matter to tie the open end of the sack off, retrieve the hidden pulley block and rope and crane him out using the over hanging tree limb.

He hung suspended his waist at her eye level as She poked prodded and inspect her catch. His now erect penis, balls and butt were at the perfect level for some close attention with her riding crop. "You know you've lost the bet despite your running… " She said. "I hope you planned to stay another week. But from now on you stay on my terms, my prize catch".

She didn't lower him to the ground instead She brought the pack horse up and draped him across its back. She tied the foot of the sack to its head end under the horses chest. He would be carried, backside exposed through the tight fishnet, to the dungeon… Before stepping off she cut a bit of the fishnet at his crotch, reached in and hooked the lanyard loop of the riding crop over the base of his balls. A simple half twist of the loop, followed by pulling back and placing the tip of the crop under his steel belt. Now both his balls and backside were within easy pleasing view, never mind how uncomfortable the the antelope might be. She smiled to herself, as up to now she hadn't thought about what to do if he had lost the bet, but an idea came to mind as she walked through the jungle floor.

They arrived at last to the door of the dungeon. The horse stood patiently bearing its load as She went inside to prepare for her guest. The Stockroom "stockade" courtesy of JT's Stockroom.com was already standing in the middle of the floor. This H-framed device would leave her prey kneeling on all fours as his neck could be held rigid and the other end would be exposed to various amusements. The only modification She had done to it was to weld coaster wheels to its standing surfaces, the better to move it around the level concrete floor. She went into the tackle locker and found a bondage hood with no eye slots, and a 100 millimeter wide posture collar. Then She went outside to tend to her trophy. She let him down off the horses back.

Now standing she unwrapped and removed the netting around his head just enough to free his head and neck. The hood was zipped on first and the posture collar was snapped on next over the hood and neck. So blind and still without the use of his hands She led him to the stockade and roughly shoving his feet the proper distance apart She attached the ankle cuffs. Forcing him to kneel she finally got the bolt cutters to cut and remove the steel belt he had worn for the last 6 hours. He soon found his wrists attached to the front part of the frame and his posture collar bolted secure to its own stand. The hood came off after that. She let him stew in his new position and location as She tended to stabling her pack horse.

At length after treating herself to a drink She went downstairs to see how her trophy Antelope was doing… She walked around him and made a play of inspecting his perfect skin. Marveling out loud at her good fortune in bagging such a perfect example of Male Antelope. She ran her hands over every inch of him and untwisted the riding crop. letting his massive balls sag back down to rest as his excited and still erect penis flopped about. Presently She pulled a low step stool close to his mouth, and removed her jungle shorts leaving her musky panties still on. "lick" She commanded. His tongue went to work on her satin encased pussy as She played at his backside with the riding crop.

"You know to the north of your country there is a land called Egypt. In centuries past the great kings would be buried with all the things they held dear in life. Some were buried with their favorite cats, others with their favorite wives. All mummified and preserved for the Kings use after death… " Her panties were sopping wet now, not just from his mouth but something internal. "Of course modern man unearthed these Kings treasures and they are now displayed all over the world in great museums. I think I would like to start my own collection of mummified treasures. Perhaps in honor of my being such a great Huntress, I should start with a prize Antelope mummy".

His member shot a load of cream during her explanation, aided of course by the tickling of her riding crop. She soon also orgasmed, considering how best her antelope to be preserved. Fun over for the time being She released him still bound and dragged him into a small dog style cage to contemplate his fate over the evening as She went about preparations for his embalming.

"Improvise, Adapt and Overcome"…. wasn't that the saying the Marines the world over used? She had cotton bandaging by the kilometre. Seven 4 litre cans of black latex body paint still remained from one of her few female clients sex sessions… The X style crucifixion stand was in place. She fed him a very light meal of salads and water. Then let him alone to sleep a couple hours perhaps to dream of his next week as an art object. She started her next phase after dark which fell about 10 in the evening in this part of the world.

"Times Up. Its time to seal your fate". She announced. She loved the dramatic flare of statements with a double entendre'. A chain was attached to the posture collar he still wore and he was dragged backwards out of his holding pen. The minute his ankles cleared the cage they were cuffed and a hobble chain some 32 centimeters ensured he took mincing steps back towards the stockade for his preparation. Once again kneeling on all fours, She announced that at first he must be cleansed and oiled. She went about applying a menthol based oil to his body slathering him in it and allowing the excess to run between his cheeks and saturate his pucker.

The next bit wasn't something She really enjoyed per-se but given the extent of his planned incapacity, it was a must. The inflatable enema plug was threaded in. He groaned at this unaccustomed intrusion but could do nothing more as She pumped at the air bulb and inflated it to seal him. The center liquid tube was attached to the slightly opiated "rinse" and She flushed him repeatedly watching his stomach swell slightly each time and then snap back to its normal ladder abs. Finally a conventional inflatable butt plug was installed. To prevent her having to pay attention to 'that end' for a while. The added benefit to this was that the plug, massaged his prostrate, and set him off on a semi permanent erection a completely normal occurrence in most males.

She freed him from the stocks and moved him hobbled over to the X-crucifix, where presently all four corners were once again restrained. She pulled the cotton bandages out in his view and started at his feet winding one layer up over his waist and back down the other leg, reversing and winding back up, over and down again. Each arm was treated in turn with the bandages crossing over upper portion of his back to follow along the other arm. The torso received two layers…

The antelope must have considered himself lucky to this point, until She let him catch a glimpse of the latex cans, another audible groan was heard. She saturated all her work with the latex and waited until it tacked up. His arms were forced to their sides and more layers of bandages were wrapped then sealed in latex. His head and crotch were still exposed, his butt, penis and balls framed, in black resin and cloth. She placed a spacer between his ankles to leave a perfect view of his gifts, and proceeded to wrap his legs together and sealed them in the latex too. His profile was still narrow enough to ride him if She so desired.

Finally the wrapping of his forehead, and eyes, leaving his mouth and nose exposed as She would be using them as well. She could see the fear and excitement in his eyes as the first winding started to blind him despite the opiated enema he was quite aware of what was happening to him. She smiled a devilish grin as She wrapped him finally.

Later as She was painting his head, She whispered in his muffled ears. "Imagine… A whole week to pleasure me with your stiff member and clever tongue, to smell the smells I allow, to taste the things I offer to you to taste. Sealed for a week to be my sex toy… I am going to enjoy walking into my parlor every morning to see you hooked on that doll stand, and I am certainly going to enjoy the inventive games we will be playing.".

Of course it was impossible to keep him that way for a whole week…. but he didn't need to know that.

 

05.03.10

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