"You're ready. Turn around and trust to the whip. It will guide you"
Awkwardly, I turned. Almost immediately, the whip lightly kissed my ass. I flinched and the next kiss was harder. I took a step and walked towards the door. Once out of the door, a couple of taps on my left ass check and I veered to the right down the corridor. Ahead of me half a dozen painted zebras were urged on by half a dozen athletic young men. Most guided by whips but two, who must have chosen forfeiture, on a chain. At the end of the corridor, Trainer Dan drove me, like a zebra, into a room that was slowing filling with silent zebras. My trainer's whip guided me to two spots on the floor. A couple of flicks between my legs and I had a foot in each spot, spreading my legs and exposing my sex. All the zebras had the same pose.
I stood and waited. If I turned my head, my trainer's whip corrected me. The quiet shuffles from behind me was the only clue of more zebras still shuffling into the room. I stood and waited, exposed and shivering in both trepidation and anticipation. Butterflies did flips in my stomach. Finally, silence filled the room broken only by the occasional quiet tinkle of chains.
A tall well-dressed man with chiselled features and grey hair walked to the front of the room. As he faced us, his piecing blue eyes scanned the room. "Welcome, prey. As you can tell, you are the zebras. Congratulations on making it this far. That's something to be proud of. So far you have earned $1,500 and there is so much more to earn. But as important, there is so much more for you to experience."
He walked down between the lines of zebras, inspecting each one for a moment as he passed.
"For those unaware, this game is called The Hunt. But we like to think of it as The Abalone Hunt." He paused in front of a statuesque zebra for a moment. "and you are the cunts." He moved onto the next zebras and out of my line of vision. "Soon you will be released into the playing area."
His voice moved around behind me. "One blast of the horn starts the game and two blasts of the horn ends it." I willed myself not to look around as his voice walked up behind me. "Those that survive uncaptured to the end gain an extra reward and extra opportunities." He walked past me staring at the bodies of the zebras lined up in front. "But first. You need to know the rules. Everyone, look down at your hands."
Immediately, I dropped my gaze to my hands. The row of studs on the cuff glowed green.
He turned at the end of the row then doubled back between the next lines of girls, all the time inspecting the naked bodies. "Green means you are safe. You cannot be captured if you are green. Red..."
The cuff lights turned red.
"...means you are prey. If you are caught, then you are that hunter's prize and the game continues, on their terms within the limits within the limits of your submitted kink profile, unless you end it with your safe word." He stopped, hands on hips. "That is all. Trainers, get these cunts into the playing area."
The whip snapped at my ass and I yelped through the gag and jumped forward along with a dozen other zebras. The room filed with the swish of whips and he muffled squeals of the girls. With deft flicks of the whip, my trainer guided me towards the door at the front of the room. Single file, he chased me down the small corridor and out into the sun. After being so long in the dark, I blinked in the brightness and when my eyes accustomed to the light, I saw we were being driven out over a wide concrete apron onto small grassy hill. The slap of dozens of bare feet on concrete turned into muffled thumps as we moved onto the grass. The blades of the well-maintained grass were soft and cool between my toes as I jogged in front of my trainer. Once I crested the hill, I saw a broad grassy park dotted with stands of trees. The earthy smell of the outside and the fresh grass filled my nostrils.
We jogged for several minutes as my trainer, with deft touches of his whip, directed me to run a zig-zag path. We moved as a group, all trainers keeping their zebras well controlled. After a few more turns and a few more minutes, the brushes of the whip ceased and I slowed to a halt, breathing heavily and awkwardly through the bit. Sweat beaded on my body from the exertion. Some of the girls doubled over as they fought to regain their breath.
My trainer ran the crop under my chin and lifted my head. All around, trainers used their crops to regain control of their panting zebras.
I stood up straight with my chest rising and falling heavily. He tugged at the straps at the back of my head and the bit came loose in my mouth. He stepped in front of me and held his fingers to his lips. Then he held out his hand, and like an obedient puppy I spat the bit into his hand and for the first time, I could breathe properly. Warning me again with his finger not to speak, he hooked the bit and bridle onto his belt, after which he unsecured my cuffs and remove the belt. The freedom of being able to breath and move my arms was divine. I stood revelling in my new freedom.
He leaned in close and whispered, "good luck, zebra. Do me proud." I final caress of his finger ran down my shoulder down my side and to my ass. "And don't forget to put up a good fight."
He stepped back, tapped me lightly with the crop to turn me around. As soon as I turned, a line of fire spread stretched across my ass as my trainer yelled "muush." Around me girls sprinted across the field and I joined them leaving our trainers far behind. The herd was released.
The girls stood half milling around in in confusion and the other half scanning the environment.
I twirled around searching for what could be our hunters only to find a familiar figure covered in spectacular black and white stripes.
"Holly!" I ran towards her. "Holly, you look amazing."
"Jemma, quickly, we don't have much time."
"Time?"
"The bracelets," she held hers up. "How they work."
"Green means safe..."
"Red and green are the basics. If you're going to last, you need to understand what makes them red."
"They don't explain all the rules?"
"They explain what matters to the hunters; the prey learns through experience. It makes the game gets harder as the inexperienced zebras get caught."
"OK, explain it to me." I reached out to her.
She shrank back. "Firstly, don't touch another zebra. That's the first rule."
I pulled my hands back.
She leaned in, speaking with an urgency that make my heart race. "Don't talk where the hunters can hear."
"Right, how..."
"Next, stay with the herd. If you stray too far, then the bracelet turns red."
"About the talking..."
"A little, when far away from the hunters. We're playing zebras, remember?"
"Oh, how much..."
She rushed ahead, ignoring my question. "Next, don't spend too long at the back of the herd. It's the stragglers that get caught."
"Holly, slow down, there's too many..."
The single blast of a horn filled the air. The game was on.
I held up my wrists. Green.
Holly jerked her head in the direction of a small group of women that was forming up. "stick with the herd," she whispered.
I followed Holly as she jogged towards the group. They carried themselves with the confidence of familiarity. Two of the other newcomers followed Holly and me. The remaining half a dozen striped women wandered the field on their own. One the, girl called Stacey, was busy trying to press herself into a bush to hide. She hid poorly unable obviously having trouble with the twigs and leaves scraping against her naked skin. Suddenly the wide expanse of soft grass made sense.
I leaned towards Holly, "what about...?"
She cut me off, "stick with the herd. That's the most important thing."
Holly and I jogged to catch up with the group of women. They turned at our approach and slowed to let us catch up. Once alongside them, they resumed their march. They walked at an easy pace making the occasional adjustment in direction to avoid getting too close to any of the stands of trees or bushes. We soon settled into an established routine, moving almost as one.
As we rounded a particularly large stand of trees, a jeep appeared on our left with half a dozen men in it. Most of them trainers, recognisable by their bare chests and lack of shoes. I reached out to Holly but pulled my hand back at the last second.
Remembering not to talk I hissed, to get her attention.
Holly turned to me and silently mouthed 'I know'.
I scanned the other women in the herd to discover six of them sported red. Two newcomers in the herd who were leaning on each other and they walked and a number of girls some trailing behind the herd.
The trainers leapt down from the jeep and spread out. The main herd veered away from them and quickened in pace slightly. The girls training behind started to jog, some towards the herd, some away from the men and some back the way they had come from. The men spread out and increased their pace to close in on the herd. As they approached the familiar figures were somehow different. My pulse quickened and swallowed hard as I came to understand the significant of the difference. They had no whips but instead carried coils of rope draped across their shoulders. Our trainers were no more, we now faced hunters.
The line of men picked up their pace and my breaths came fast and shallow as the herd moved into a slow jog. The overpowering urge to run infected me and as I sped up, Holly hissed "stay with the herd." Fighting the overwhelming need to run, I paced myself with the herd as it picked up speed. The line of men passed behind the herd, chasing the of stragglers. Squeals and the pounding of feet overwhelmed the sound of our heavy breathing as we jogged. I stole the occasional glimpse over my shoulder and the line of men weren't hunting the stragglers. Instead the men drove the stragglers in front of them towards the herd, shepherding in those stragglers that tried to make a break to either the left or right.
The herd maintained its cohesion, increasing in speed slightly as the stragglers caught up breath rasping from the exertion. I marveled at the discipline of Holly and the other girls who maintained their brisk but sustainable pace. The group of girls ran together for another half minute before the men slowed, dropping back. A couple of the newer girls also slowed but were driven back amongst our ranks by the men. The stragglers didn't slow again.