The Wild Hunt

Prelude

He woke shivering in the chill fall air…

He was naked, of course, except for the chastity cage that was locked about his genitals, for how long now he could not even remember, and the chains and collar.  The coarse burlap that covered the straw pallet that had been his bed for the night did little to offer comfort, let alone warmth, but somehow he had slept.  He moaned and rolled about, struggling up to his elbows as he looked around the dim, stone chamber.

He could see light trickling in through the one small window set high in the gray stone wall.  It was tiny; barely six inches on a side and designed to let in air and a bit of light, and that was all.  It was too high to see through, and obviously too small to crawl through, but by the dim gray seeping through the opening he could see that it was early, the fading light of false dawn giving way to sunrise.

They would be coming for him soon, he knew…

He had been told what to expect today, not everything of course, but enough, and so he understood why he had been locked in one of the basement cells for the night, rather than allowed to sleep at the foot of his Goddess' bed, which was his usual place.  He had been hobbled; a chain locked to the leather cuffs that perpetually remained locked about his ankles.  His wrists too had been locked in front of him; the black leather cuffs affixed with a short, four inch silver steel chain.  Finally they had attached a chain from the 'D' ring in his red collar that ran through the links of his arm cuffs, through a loop on his chastity cage and down finally to his hobble, pulled tightly just enough to keep him slouched if he stood.  Not uncomfortable, but annoying.  They needed him relatively healthy for the day's events she had said; no bruises or aching joints or muscle cramps from a tight binding.

He had been fed well early the night before.  Cook had made a huge pan of pasta, and he had been informed that he would need his energy today, and they had made him eat it all.  Not that he complained.  Generally he was fed little; sometimes scraps left over by Goddess, sometimes worse or nothing at all.  He had thus eaten ravenously, before they might change their minds.

Slave c stood, wincing as he tried to stretch but reaching the limits of his bondage, the chain tugging on his cage and making his skin pinch with the movement.  He shuffled to the far corner of his holding cell in the basement and relieved himself in the provided hole in the floor, knowing full well that he might have to clean that out if Goddess was not pleased with his efforts today.  She might even simply drop him in and lock the lid, leaving him there in the filth and offal if he displeased her.  His cock was thick in its cage and dripping, his ballsac huge and red with its usual morning swell as he squatted down, sighing with some relief as he hovered over the rank smelling opening.  From there he moved to the trough attached to the wall that was half-filled with water, and drank, then best as he could manage he washed up.  He was just finishing when he heard the deadbolt on the heavy metal door slide back with a loud 'CLANG'.

"Up against the wall, pansy boy."  It was Armand.  His voice hissed with hatred even as the door squealed, opening wide to flood the chamber with garish light from the hallway beyond, and slamming against the inner wall.

Slave c frowned but did as he was ordered, shuffling towards the far corner away from the door and dropping to his knees, placing his head to the wall.  He waited there, hearing the Handler as he moved into the cell and across the cold hard stone floor to stand behind him.  Armand was one of the many Handlers that his Goddess employed.  He was Italian or Greek as near as Little c could determine; virile and muscular and kept on staff to control the lesser slaves, like c, doing the drudge work of directing and binding when Goddess did not want to soil her own hands.

Little c hated Armand with a passion and recoiled at the Handler's touch remembering too many times on his knees with the big man's enormous cock thrusting down his throat.  Or up his ass…

"Sleep well?" Armand asked and chuckled as he kicked at the slave's feet, spreading his legs wide so that his captive groin dangled down for viewing, as Goddess liked.  Little c felt the Handler's hands on him, checking the restraints first, then sliding between his legs to assess his state of arousal.  Armand squeezed his captive balls, and the slave whimpered in the rough, crushing grip.  The slave closed his eyes and pressed his face against the cold stone wall, enduring the violation.

"That's enough, Armand."

Slave c sighed to hear his Goddess and owner's voice.  It sounded cold and detached, but still filled him with warmth and made the hated Armand release him and back away.  Little c had been her slave for years, ever since she had picked him up one dark and stormy night as he made his way deeper into her native Canada.  He had been escaping an abusive childhood, where he had been little better than a toy and plaything for his family, groomed over the years to be a submissive slave and pansy for their desires.  Goddess Jane had rescued him from that, and had made him her own; her personal footslave, which he loved.  But she used him too, for other things…

He heard the light tread of her footfalls echoing throughout the tiny cell.  He could smell the scent of her cigarette as she stepped closer, hear the swish of her denim rubbing as she walked.  "Well?" she asked after a few silent moments.

"He's hard, Mistress," Armand replied, "and ready."

"Turn around, slave, and look at me," Goddess said, and Little c complied, slowly shuffling on his knees until he was facing his owner.  As always he was taken aback by her beauty and gasped to see her silhouetted from behind by the hallway's garish light.

Goddess was beautiful; smooth fair skin and huge dark eyes that seemed to pierce his soul when she looked at him.  She had dirty blond hair held back in a tail by a butterfly clip, brushing her shoulders.  This morning she was dressed in her blue jeans and knee-high dark brown riding boots, a black scoop neck tee shirt and wearing her long black leather trench coat and matching gloves against the morning's chill.  She was smoking a cigarette as she looked at him, staring down at him there, on his knees.

"Have you forgotten how to greet your Goddess?" she asked, taking a long drag and blowing smoke over his head.  Slave c scrambled forward and fell to the stone, kneeling before her as he kissed the toes of her boots.

"I'm sorry, Goddess," he whimpered, apologizing as he planted kisses on her toecaps.  He heard Armand chuckle in the background.

"You know what's required of you today," she said, taking a long drag from her cigarette as the slave kissed and licked at her boots.  "I hope you rested well, and will make me proud."

"I will, Goddess," the slave said, pausing as the cigarette butt fell to the floor beside his face.  He watched in awe as Goddess moved her foot, crushing out the smoldering, spent butt beneath the toe of her boot.  "I will," slave c repeated, kneeling back on his haunches.

"Good," Goddess Jane said, stepping away, back towards the door.  "You know the rules.  You know what will happen if you fail.  You know what will happen if you succeed."

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Tell me."

"If I fail I will be given over to the Hounds.  Reduced in status and made their bitch."

"And if you succeed?"

"You will release me from my chastity for 24 hours."

"That's right."

Goddess' voice was sweet and sure as she spoke, and the slave felt that he was missing something.  He had no time to think however, as she spoke again.  "Release him from his restraints, Armand," she said, and the Handler stepped forward, a wide grin on his handsome face.

He was wearing tight, black leather breeches and MC boots, and his muscular chest was bare and smooth and glistening as Goddess liked.  Armand grabbed the slave by the arm and proceeded to unlock the chains at his wrists and ankles as well as the long binding that connected them all.  The man grinned wickedly as he jerked the thin chain through the loop in the cock cage, chuckling softly as the slave winced at the sharp pain.  Armand also unfastened his collar, which was surprising to Little c, but quickly replaced it with another that held a small box woven into the mesh, metal prongs poking into the slave's throat.  A shock collar…

Armand stepped back and nodded, his own long black hair ruffling with the motion, and Goddess Jane produced a small, capped hypodermic needle from her pocket.  The slave gasped, staring at the thick amber liquid within the clear plastic, knowing exactly what she held but had not been expecting it to be part of the day's events.  She ignored his reaction and casually uncapped the needle and approached him.  She looped one fist through his collar and roughly bent him over at the waist before jamming the needle into the back of his neck.

Immediately he felt nauseous and started to sweat as the viscous fluid churned and roiled through his body.  He felt pain in his joints and limbs, his stomach heaving as mass was forced from his body and shunted elsewhere, evaporating into the suddenly humid air.  His bladder suddenly exploded, expelling more mass and he retched.  He felt his body dwindling, could feel the eyes of his Goddess and her Handler upon him, watching in fascination as his form became smaller, shrinking in the dim glow of the basement holding cell.  Slave c retched again as Goddess released her grip on his collar and crumpled to a heap on the floor.  He had never quite gotten used to the change, groaning with the pain of the effect even after the countless times that she had shrunk him to become a plaything for her and her friends.  Goddess relented when he was just three feet tall.  Smiling coolly she capped and slipped the spent hypo back into the folds of her coat.

 "Get him down to the chute.  I'll go join the girls on the terrace.  Good luck, Little slave.  Do good for me."  And with a swish of leather and a click of heel on stone, she was gone…

One

Goddess Jane leaned back in her chair and recrossed her legs, sipping at her dark coffee and watching the sun as it climbed higher in the east.  It was a chilly morning, but the sky was stark blue and there was no impending threat of foul weather and soon enough it would warm.  A good day.  Goddess lit a cigarette and smiled, watching as a flock of geese took wing and swarmed into the sky, leaving the safety of the forest reserve that bordered the back of her estate.

"Is he going to be up for this, Jane?" Sue asked, fidgeting in her chair next to Jane's.  "He's such a weak little pussy."

Jane smirked; glancing at her best friend as the other woman lit a cigarette and waved the match away, tossing it into the tray when it went out.  Like Jane and the other girls, Sue was dressed in jeans and boots, a dark tee shirt that stretched over her firm, round breasts.  She was wearing her black leather riding gloves already, and looked damn hot to Jane as she took a long drag on her cigarette.

"I have faith in Little c, Sue," Jane said, taking a drag off of her own cigarette and sipping at her coffee.  "He'll give us a good run."

Jane smiled as the other three women seated on the terrace of her manor house nodded and smiled in agreement.  It had been Sue's idea to run one of their slaves in a hunt; letting him run with the gift of freedom dangling like a carrot on a stick while the women hunted him and ran him down on horseback, the other slaves acting as Hounds to keep him moving.  They had drawn lots to see whose slave would be the 'fox' in their little hunt, and Jane had shivered with excitement to draw the short straw.  Her own Little c would be the prey, and she was hot and anxious to start.

Sue scowled and huffed, settling back into her chair as she sipped at her coffee, obviously not impressed.  Jane thought that Sue should be at least a little bit impressed with her favorite slave's abilities, after all that she had put him through over the years.  But of course, Sue was never happy unless she was complaining, and the slave in question was suffering.  And Sue had never liked Little c much anyway; a bit jealous perhaps?  Jane smiled at her sometimes lover and then went back to enjoying the morning.

"It should be fun," her friend Ellen said, setting her mug aside on the table and nibbling at a bagel.  Ellen was a short, perky brunette and had a stable of a couple dozen tinies at her desire and whim, ever since Jane had started selling the Minimizer to her friends.  Her favorite was a hulking Negro named Maurice, who she had brought along in her purse to run as one of the Hounds today.  "I'm so excited.  I'm positively pulsing."

"Me too," said Gina, a dark-skinned Latino that ran a Travel Agency in town.  She was short and thin but well endowed with long dark hair and deeply tanned skin.  "It's been ages since I've been on a horse.  I hope I don't make a fool of myself and fall on my ass."

"You'll be fine," Jane replied, finishing her coffee and setting her cup aside.  "I don't ride much myself, but this will be fun."

"I know I'm looking forward to it," Carol said, the last in their little clique.  She was white; pale hair and skin but very hot looking in her riding apparel.  Jane could tell that all of her friends were excited and ready to go; even Sue, though she would never admit it.

Jane leaned forward and uncrossed her legs, her finger pressing the button on the intercom set on the table.  There was a short buzz of static, and shortly all the women heard Armand's voice respond.

"Mistress…"

"How is he?" Jane asked, trying not to sound too excited, knowing that her slave would be right there listening.

"He's adjusted to the change, Mistress.  Ready to run."

"Then let him go, Armand," she said, and settled back into her chair to wait…

Two

Slave c saw the Handler push a button and the corrugated metal door rolled up and open in front of him.  He held up his hands to block the sudden glare of daylight, breathing in the fresh air of freedom as he stared at the wide expanse of lawn and the woodlands beyond spread out before him.  He shivered as the cool air washed over him, hesitating as he stared into the long, stone passage that allegedly led to freedom.

"Get moving," he heard the hated Armand's voice, and felt the huge man's hand shove him in the back.  Little c staggered forward knowing that he had to obey the now giant of a man.  Even at his normal height, the Handler was far stronger than he was and easily manhandled him at Goddess' whim and desire.  C shuffled up the ramp toward the daylight to Armand's chuckling.

Little c stepped out onto a smooth square of cement and looked around.  It had been ages since he had been allowed outside; an even longer time free of restraints.  It felt strange to him, and even though he was nude, he felt oddly naked.  He jumped to hear the grinding sound of the metal door as it started to roll closed again.  When it finally down and locked into place, he felt a chill and shivered.  No turning back now.

He stepped forward onto the grass, luxuriating in the feeling for a moment.  He could feel the light warmth of the sun's rays as it climbed higher, not quite over the tree line yet.  The air was still crisp and smelled wonderful; the faint odor of pine on the breeze.  He could hear water babbling in the distance, somewhere in the woods and the occasional call of some bird or animal.

Goddess had explained years ago when she had first taken him in that her estate bordered a National Wildlife Preserve.  The woodlands were open to the public, though all within its bounds were protected by the government; trees, animals, the wetlands, everything.  Goddess' property overlapped in places so that there were actually woods that belonged to her, though she was just as protective of the environment as Canada.  There were fences in place, a low cyclone one visible from where he stood, mainly there to keep the deer off of her property, and where not, signs were posted to restrict access, and for the most part they were obeyed.

Everyone knew Goddess Jane, and her reputation in town and no one crossed her in the slightest way.  She was wealthy, and a philanthropist; donating money regularly to the areas schools and colleges, hospitals, shelters and many more.  She knew all the right people in the community, not only her affluent friends, but also the mayor and police commissioner and others of civic import.  As such, the police enforced her desired privacy, no questions ever asked, letting her live the lifestyle that she chose and loved.

And her estate was huge, the great house itself several levels, which included a small parking garage and the cellar that covered a vast area underground housing the holding cells and dungeon.  Far to his right he could see the curving edge of the long swimming pool, which he had only been in once, and that only as punishment.  He had spilled her morning coffee, and she had deemed it necessary to teach him a valuable lesson on wasting precious liquids as there was a drought on that summer.  Goddess had had one of her Handler's lock him in a set of heavy wooden stocks that enclosed his neck and wrists and then toss him into the pool.  He had screamed, thinking that he was going to drown, but to his surprise and relief he had bobbed back to the surface, the stocks acting as a flotation device.  Goddess had laughed at his antics and walked away leaving him floating there all day and most of the night.  When he had finally been dragged from the water his body was shriveled like a prune and his face was scarlet with sunburn.  He had never spilled anything again…

Little c jumped, wincing as a mild shock jabbed into his throat.  He looked about, realizing that he had been hesitating too long and started forward on shaking legs.  He glanced up at the overhang of the terrace above him, remembering Goddess' words.  She and her friends, her Barbie Club, were right above him, waiting.  He stepped out from under the shadow and turned, looking up and up…

The overhanging terrace was a good ten feet above the ground, but at the slave's current size of about three feet it seemed far higher and well out of reach.  He saw his Goddess standing there at the railing, smiling down at him imperiously as her gloved hand fondled the remote that controlled his shock collar.  She looked beautiful as she stood there, a Giantess to him now and he could feel his cock growing hard again just at the sight of her.  She placed her free hand on her hip, motioning for him to continue backing up with the remote pointed at him.  He licked his lips nervously and did as she beckoned.

He saw the other women come into view as he retreated.  There were five of them, including his Goddess, and though he did not know all of their names, he had seen them all before.  They had each taken part in his punishment or humiliation at one point or another, most especially Sue.  She was Goddess' best friend, and even now was seated at her right, smiling wickedly down at the little slave.  Little c swallowed and licked his lips nervously.  Sue did not like him, he knew, and she actually scared him.  He remembered that there was a time that she could not own any tiny people as she abused them mercilessly, sometimes to the point of a painful death, or so Goddess had told him.  He knew too that her first probation period had ended, and in her second term she had been granted permission to own one tiny slave.  Little c had met him at the last gathering of the Barbie Club; a nasty brute named appropriately Ken.  Goddess had allowed Sue's slave to rape him that night, repeatedly for the amusement of the women.

"Gahh!" slave yelped as another jolt seared into his throat, a harsher setting.  He looked at his Goddess just as a smirk faded into a frown.

"That's far enough, slave," she commanded, her voice loud and booming to his tiny ears.  C stopped moving and stood at military like ease as he knew to do in similar situations.  If she wanted him to kneel or bow or even curtsey, Goddess would tell him.  "I trust I won't have to use this again?" she asked casually holding the collar's remote out for him to see.

"No, Ma'am," he answered respectfully, watching her as he had been trained to do.

"Good," she said, her smile returning as she clipped the device to her belt.  He watched her intently, waiting for any discreet sign or signal to command him, but she spoke rather than gestured secretly.  "Relax, Little c."

The slave sighed and broke stance and gaze at her permission.  He took deep breaths and tried to calm down.  He could feel his heart racing in nervous anticipation, knowing what was to come and feeling more than a little scared… and excited.

He realized that he was blushing as he panned the women gathered above him, they in turn watching him intently, scrutinizing him with amusement.  Though none were as beautiful as his Goddess was, they were all very pretty, and he knew wealthy and influential as well.  He saw the Latino woman lean close to another, Ellen he thought, and whisper something that made both women giggle.

"You seem unfocused, slave," his Goddess said eyeing him darkly.  "You are going to be good for us, right?"

"Yes, Goddess," he replied, failing to keep his voice from cracking as it often did when shrunk.  The women all laughed.  "I'm just nervous," he went on, then grimaced, knowing that Goddess never wanted excuses unless she asked.  He saw her smirk at his failing.

"I can imagine you are, slave, but try to relax," she said, pausing to light a cigarette.  "Focus.  We want a good show today, and we will all be very disappointed if you fall too soon."  Slave swallowed and nodded.

"I'll do my best for you, Goddess."

"I know you will, Little c.  You always do."  He heard Sue snort at that, but Goddess Jane ignored her and continued.

"You know the rules, I'm sure, but I'll repeat them just to be certain.  You will run into the woods, our little fox in this hunt, where you will try to elude us and the Hounds.  In the woods there are five markers.  Do you remember where they are?" she asked, taking a long drag from her cigarette.

"Yes, Ma'am," he replied.  Goddess had taken him into the woodlands many times, walking him along with her dog, Muffin; another superior female to him.  She had pointed out many sights on those walks; the tallest, oldest tree, a huge boulder left over from the last Ice Age, the wishing well and the river and the clearing.  She had recited five places where her Groundskeeper had placed markers; basically poles stuck into the ground with red flags attached so that they could be seen.  At each marker he was to gather a charm of some sort, one provided by each of the women and clip each to one of the leather bands still locked to his wrists and ankles.  The fifth charm he would know belonged to his Goddess, and that one should be attached to his cage.  If he survived long enough and eluded the hunters, he was then to run back to the estate where Armand would be waiting to verify that he had succeeded.

"And you remember what to do?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Good boy."  Slave c saw his Goddess turn slightly and reach for something on the table.  He heard the buzz of the intercom, and Armand's staticky reply.  "Bring them out," Goddess said and all the women turned to look towards the pool.

Little c paled as he saw what the women were waiting to see.  From one of the other openings that led into the cellar he saw Armand emerge, a silver horn hanging from a bandoleer draped across his massive chest.  But it was not the grinning, giant Handler that made the little slave quiver with terror, but rather what the man was leading…

It was the four other tinies, the slaves of Goddess Jane's guests.  Each was naked, mostly, except for their own wrist and ankle cuffs and shock collar.  Each was also hooded, their heads encased in soft black leather that left their eyes and mouths showing.  Little c noted too that each wore a pair of running shoes and he looked down at his own bare feet.  But still, he had known that the other slaves would play the Hounds in Goddess' hunt, and had been expecting them.  What made him pale in fear was that, while shrunk, each was easily a foot taller than his own three feet height.  That meant that each would be faster than him, with longer strides, and far stronger too.

When they saw him standing there finally, naked and scared the 'Hounds' started charging forward, straining on their leashes.  Armand laughed as he was led along with their determination to get at him, but at his normal size and strength he easily held them in check.  Little c wondered what they had been promised if they caught him, as none of them wore cock cages; only him.  Armand stopped a few yards away, smirking at Little c's obvious terror.

The slave looked back up at the women gathered above and saw that they were all grinning wickedly now, their eyes sparkling with lust.  Even his Goddess licked her lips with anticipation, and at some word from Sue, she spoke again.

"You know the Hounds, Little c.  Some quite intimately as I recall," she said and the women laughed.  Though Ken had taken him up the ass like a bitch, he had been forced to suck off the others on different occasions; all but one who Goddess had explained was Ellen's husband.  He had been being punished for a time, but apparently to see the way that all of the slaves were struggling to get at him, his punishment had been rescinded.

"They're happy to see you, slave," Goddess said with a cruel laugh, "and want to play, which will be a good incentive for you to do well.  And I can see that you're anxious to start, so we'll begin."  Goddess turned back again and her slave heard a metallic click in the distance.  She had unlocked the gate and shut off the electricity.

"You'll have a three minute head start once you pass through the gate and close it behind you, little fox.  Then Armand will let the Hounds loose, and we'll be riding not long after.  The hunt will last either until the dogs get you, or one of us rides you down and captures you.  Or, if you manage to elude us, of course."  Little c heard Sue snort again and say something that made the women laugh.

"Now go, Little c," Goddess continued, ignoring her friend's comment.  "Run hard and make me proud."  And prove Sue wrong, he saw her mouth and smile lovingly.  And the terror receded just a little.

For that smile he would run until his heart burst.

Little c turned and ignored the taunts and jeers that he received as he passed close to the Hounds.  He tried to walk tall as he approached the gate, feeling all eyes on him.  Taking a deep breath he stepped through the opening, then closed it behind him.

Then he ran…

Three

Goddess Jane watched as her slave ran as hard and as fast as his little legs would carry him.  She enjoyed looking at him, more than she would let him ever know, but seeing his tight ass jiggle as he ran into the woods made her tingle inside.

"He's quick," Sue said stepping up to the rail beside her, "I'll give him that much."

"You should give him more, Sue," Jane retorted, never taking her eyes off of her slave until he finally vanished into the trees and foliage.  "He's smart too.  I think he'll give us a better hunt than you imagine."

"Oh, I hope so," Ellen chimed in leaning on the railing and looking down at the Hounds.  "And I hope that Greg catches him first.  He's been so horny since I took his cage off his cock this morning.  Just look at him."

Jane glanced at Ellen's husband and had to admit that even at a modest four feet tall, the little man was well hung.  She knew that Little c knew what to expect if the Hounds caught up with him, and she had suspected that he had seen all the other slaves sporting their erections as they struggled to get at him.  And of course a small dose of Ecstasy and Viagra in their morning meals had not hurt.  Jane giggled, almost feeling sorry for c.

"Three minutes," Carol said as she clicked the digital stopwatch, setting the mark.  Jane nodded and raised her leather-gloved hand, holding the remote to her slave's shock collar.  She depressed the button; the control set on a low level 4, just enough to let Little c know that the hunt was beginning.  "Let the Hounds loose, Armand," she said as she pressed the button on her intercom box that opened the gate again and shut down the current.

All of the women cheered and applauded as Armand led their slaves closer to the gate.  He barked a harsh command of 'Heel', then unfastened the leashes from their respective collars.  Wisely, Armand unlocked Ken at the last, and Jane could not help notice the sharp spikes that adorned his wide, stiff leather collar.  Sue was definitely going to get herself in trouble with the TA again if she was not careful.

"Go!" Armand shouted, stepping back and raised the silver horn to his lips.  He blew a long piercing peal as the four Hounds scrabbled for purchase and charged for the gate.  They ran through single file with Gina's slave in the lead, though Ken quickly passed him by, by hurdling the fence and dashing right into the scrub.

"Look at him go," Sue cooed, licking her lips and Jane could hear the lust in her best friend's voice.  "He's gonna nail your precious Little c, Janie."

Jane smirked.  "You may get a surprise, dear.  Care to place a little wager on that?"  She saw her friend cock an eyebrow as Jane reached for the intercom again.  "Gerhard.  Bring the mounts now, please."

"What did you have in mind?" Sue asked as she examined her stiff leather riding crop.

"I'll wager my slave, Sue.  That's the only thing I have that you've ever wanted… almost."  Sue chuckled.  "If your Ken catches Little c, he'll be yours for twenty-four hours to do with as you like," Jane said confidently, then added, "Just don't kill him, of course."

"And if c eludes the hunt, you get Ken?  Deal."  Sue extended her hand and the bet was made.  Jane had no desire for Ken at all.  She simply wanted to take Sue down a peg or two, and she had faith in her little slave; faith in his desire to serve her well.

Jane saw Gerhard and two of her weekend slaves leading the horses around the side of the house and towards the gate.  Though she hardly rode, maybe once or twice a month, she kept two steeds on hand- geldings of course.  For today's event she had called in a favor from Police Commissioner O'Grady, who was a monthly regular in her stables with a passion for birch caning.  He had lovingly offered three of the best horses from the Mountie's stables, loaned for the day.  She had promised him an exciting time his next visit.

"Let's go, ladies," Jane suggested and the five women strolled down the steps off of the terrace and down onto the lawn, each taking a horse; Jane her favorite named Rust, and Sue her other called Jet.  The two young and sexy slaves and her Groundskeeper, Gerhard cupped and cradled their hands as the women each cocked a leg, helping them to their saddles.

Jane settled right into the English riding saddle, slipping her brown leather riding boots into the stirrups as she patted her mount on the side of the neck and cooed in his ear.  He was big and fast, and well trained, and together, when she pushed him they seemed almost to share a rapport between horse and rider.  The other women were having a bit of time as they got used to their mounts however, turning them about and trotting them.

Jane looked at the two slaves that had accompanied Gerhard.  They were both naked of course, and wearing collars and both were allegedly eighteen and well hung for their age.  Jane smiled at them as they looked on in almost awe at the five beautiful women on horseback, no doubt knowing what was happening, both sporting huge erections as their minds probably raced with fantasies.

"Gerhard," Jane said in a cool tone as she turned towards the older man.  Her Groundskeeper was well over sixty, with a wife and a house in the suburbs, a family that she had met.  He did his job very, very well, and he was one of the few men that Jane actually respected, and compensated well accordingly.  "Better hose down your help after we leave.  They seem a bit excited.  Can't blame them I suppose, but give each five of your best with the strop too. To help keep their thoughts on their work."  Jane smirked to see the two boys pale, both bowing their heads submissively.

"Yes'm," Gerhard said, grinning as he nodded.

"If you're done with the help, Jane?" Sue said as she reined Jet close, her leg brushing against Jane's.  "Let's go."

"Calm down, Suzi," Jane said nodding at Armand.  Her Handler brought the silver horn to his lips again, and at her signal blew a long and loud note…

TA-ROOOO…

Sue jerked sharply on the reins and spun Jet about, setting through the gate at a gallop, the other three women spurring quickly behind.  Goddess Jane shook her head and followed at a quick canter.  She was excited too, but she knew her slave well and how he thought.  The Hounds would not catch him quickly, she knew, and riding hard would not end the hunt any faster.  She would catch up.

"You remember your instructions, Armand?" Jane asked as she passed her Handler.

"Yes, Mistress," was his reply, with a bow.

"Good."

Jane smiled as she spurred Rust, picking up the pace as she galloped into the woods after the others…

Four

Little c staggered, unprepared as he was when the jolt of electricity coursed through his throat.  He was not certain why he had received the shock, but upon hearing the cheers far behind in the distance and the loud blare of Armand's horn he assumed that the 'Hounds' had been loosed.  Quickly he turned from the path and headed into the brush.

He had been sticking to the path as long as he could, racing along the hard-packed earth to put some distance between him and his pursuers.  That had been his plan, finally going into the woods when he thought it prudent to better hide his intentions, and apparently that time was now.

He had also ran along the trail that would take him directly to the first marker.  It was not too far from the gate, near the elder tree, and he expected that the women would figure that he would try for that since it was so close.  Had he run faster, he might have done just that, but if the shock signaled that the hunt had begun, he chose plan 'B' and veered into the woods, running towards the sound of the rushing river.

His feet were already hurting, but he tried to ignore the pain as he stepped on jutting stones and pine needles along the path.  He would rest later and pick at the soles of his feet, but right then he needed to put some distance between him and the hunters as well as throw the Hounds off of his scent.

He had plowed right into the forest without a care, but now as he ran he tried not to leave a mark of his passing.  It had not rained in some time, and the ground was cool and hard underfoot, so that he left only the barest prints to mark his passing.  He eased through the dense foliage, trying not to knock autumn dead leaves loose from the woodland scrub, or bend slender branches.  He did not know if the other slaves had any wood lore, but he needed to make it as hard as he could for them to follow.

The slave flinched to hear the peal of the silver horn.  Armand was signaling that the ladies were riding now, and c felt his pulse quicken at the thought.  Now there were nine searching for him, seeking him in the cordoned area of woodlands that bordered his Goddess Jane's property.  He ran on, sweating despite the chill of autumn air and already breathing hard.

Soon he came to the river.  C burst from the scrub and charged right in, staying close to the bank lest at his diminutive size he be caught up in the current and swept away.  It was not large; more of a swollen creek than a true river, but the current was swift in spots and Goddess had told him that it was quite deep in places and full of eddies that would drag him under.

He ran, his breath coming out in wispy vapors along the chill water.  He was freezing as he paralleled the river bank, hoping that running through the shallows would throw off the Hounds as he was not leaving a trail.  He listened intently, trying to hear the Hounds baying or the sound of hooves coming closer but there was only the rush of the river, the chatter of birds and his own heart slamming in his ears.

Finally he saw the bridge, and on the opposite bank, the red flag marker waving in the breeze.  He had reached one of the check points, and would now have to cross the stream to get the token that awaited him.

The bridge was little more than an arching foot bridge that would allow traffic to pass comfortably along its width.  It spanned the river in a narrows, and Little c knew that the water here was not too deep; maybe waist high at its worst depth.  He could simply leave the water and cross the bridge of course, but he did not want to leave any wet prints in his wake.

Little c hurried out into the race, the water rising as he moved to the river's center.  It was cold as it crept up his bare flesh, rising higher than his waist and almost up to his hard, stiff nipples at its deepest.  C gritted his teeth and struggled against the current as he crossed, his eyes on the marker flag fluttering in the brisk breeze just a few yards away.

The slave clambered out of the chill waters, shivering slightly as he made his way up the slight incline of the bank, towards the flag.  He saw the Token dangling, sparkling silver in the morning light as he approached.  He plucked it from the nail on which it hung, admiring it for just a moment as he breathed deeply, resting for just a moment.

It was a thin, metal silver heart with the letter 'E' engraved; E for Ellen.  C quickly took a knee and attached the Token to the band that encircled his left ankle.  He had just stood when he heard the sound of pounding hooves splashing through the water.  He looked downstream and quailed at the site of one of the women bearing down on him, spurring and driving her mount for more speed.

It was Carol…

***

Carol Harding could not believe how her life had changed; all for the better in just a few months.

She had been almost overwhelmed when Jane had first shown her, her tiny slave.  She had almost cum on the spot when she looked into the little wooden box and had seen the naked and tiny man cowering within.  God how she had wanted one, and of course she had bought the Beta model Minimizer on the spot, becoming one of the product testers.

She had gone straight home that first night and shrunk her husband, Paul with no doubts or regrets.  It had been the perfect torture for the two-timing asshole, making him lick and kiss her huge, sweaty feet.  She had kept his tiny, naked body underfoot for days, trampling him mercilessly and even stuffing him into her shoe when she went to work.  It had been wonderful hearing his tinny, tiny screams and begging when she had finally tired of him and crushed his sorry ass.  She had smeared him into a bloody pulp under her heel, remembering what Jane had said about the tinies adjusting with time and becoming more resilient.  She still got hot, thinking of the sound that Paul had made when he 'popped'.

She was on her third Tiny since Paul's 'disappearance' and living well on the profit of his electronics firm.  Her husband had had a good head for business, she would grant him that.   He had been almost a millionaire when they had married, and ten years later his empire had grown into multi-millions.  Luckily he had surrounded himself with good, hard-working, intelligent employees, leaving Carol now free to do as she pleased with just a bit of supervision over the finances and the occasional visit to the firm.  That was how she had met Bertram, and later Chad.

Both young men had been eager and up and coming on the executive end of the business.  Young, eager and handsome definitely met her new criteria, and she sensed instantly that they would do anything to further their careers.  Little did either realize what 'anything' meant in her case.  She missed Bertram just a little bit.  He had been great at cunnilingus with that tongue of his, but he had forever balked at being kept tiny and as a slave.  No matter what she tried he just would not submit from the heart.  It had saddened Carol when she finally decided to crush him.  Chad however had his merits, and her feet had never been so soft and pampered in her whole life.  And he seemed to relish the whole tiny slave life; always ready to please and always rock hard.  She hoped that Chad would do well in the Hunt so that she could reward him.  Or bad, so she could punish him she thought with a wicked smile.

Carol's eyes lit up as she saw Little c standing by the marker flag at the old foot bridge.  She had held out hope that she had chosen the proper path when they had all split up at the first fork in the trail.  They had quickly drawn straws with Jane and Sue heading off to the west and Ellen and Gina heading towards the right, leaving Carol the center road to follow.  She had not been too happy with the choice she had been given, AND riding alone, but, my how fate did change…

Here was Little c almost right before her and face to face.  His eyes were wide, like a deer caught in the headlights of a semi as he stared at her.  She dug her heels into her horses' flanks and slapped rope to its side to get him galloping faster.  She played the rope out, her lariat in hand as she hard rode on Little c.

He bolted suddenly, finally snapping out of his shock and Carol cursed.  "Yah!" she shouted, yanking on the reins and driving her heels into horse flesh again.  He was heading into the brush and off of the path.  She knew that she would lose him in there if he got too far ahead as the woodlands thickened up the slope and would be too tight for her horse to pass through.

Carol spun her lariat and let it fly, but knew immediately that she would miss her mark.  C dodged left and ducked behind a tree even as her loop of rope shot past and encompassed a lightning charred stump.  "Dammit!" she cursed again.  He was quick.

"Bastard!" Carol spat as she reined her horse to a halt, water spewing as strong legs churned in the current..  She watched as Jane's slave quickly vanished into the brush and out of sight, then she trotted the horse back to the stump to undo her line.  She then settled the rope to the saddle's horn and pulled her cell phone from its pouch on her belt, letting her mount drink from the cool race of water as she keyed the Nextel to life.

"I lost him," Carol said as she urged the horse after the trail that the tiny man had left through the woods.  "For now anyway, but I'm on his trail.  He's got the bridge token."  Carol listened as her friends commented that they had all heard, Sue of course adding a sarcastic 'too bad'.

Carol replaced the phone in its holster after her friends responded.  With a sigh and a drink of water from a bottle strapped to her saddle she spurred her mount forward at a quicker pace, following the trail that Little c had left as he escaped into the woods…

 

31.03.11

story continues in The Wild Hunt Part 2

o0o