#hunting.

((I think I've kept this in my drafts long enough!! I got too perfectionist about it I think, so I'm just going to post it as is))

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I imagine several scenes: a sub refusing to join their kidnapper in bed, even as they shiver on the floor. a kidnapper overstimulating a sub until they cum yet again, asking them if they like it yet but the sub shakes their head and clenches their teeth. yet another scene where the sub stares daggers at their kidnapper while their mouth is forced open for a ring gag

Then, a chasing scene. The captive almost gets away, but get caught right as she nears the edge of the property. She’s caught, tackled into the dirt. She screams, but a hand claps over her mouth and presses something between her open lips. Her kidnapper buckles a gag behind her head and she starts to panic but they keep her pinned down. They hold her down and take her roughly, reminding her who she belongs to. Utterly primal and possessive. feeling her body clench and her make muffled noises she hadn’t made before… almost like she…. enjoyed it

The next morning, the kidnapper is making breakfast and kind of laughs like, “You almost got away last night didn’t you?” she turns her head away, but her captor keeps talking, remembering her moans from last night. “If i didn’t know better, i would have thought you actually enjoyed it…” and the captive tries to hide it, but she winces. and the kidnapper can see her blushing

“I’ll tell you what. I like this game. You can keep trying to run away.”

The captive looks surprised then suspicious.

“It’s fun to hunt you down, and I feel confident you could never successfully get away. So I’m willing to make you a deal.

“You can keep trying to get away and I won’t take away privileges or punish you. I won’t do anything but what I did last night— reclaim what’s mine.”

She hesitates, considering it before shaking their outstretched hand in agreement. They smile evilly

~~~~~~

oh shit oh shit oh shit you think as you run flat out, your breath loud in your ears and burning in your lungs. you try to find a shortcut, but your sights can’t see beyond the path quickly enough. you turn a bend and hear loud running steps and the crunch of sticks under foot seconds before something hits you hard from the side. you’re gathered up in their arms, kept moving by the momentum of their run. you kick wildly, but you find yourself bent over a log, feet knocking up sand