The Trophy Rack (2 page)

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Authors: Matt Nicholson

Tags: #erotic, #sex, #bdsm, #submission, #discipline, #outdoors, #bondage, #punishment, #consensual, #breast, #sadomasochism

BOOK: The Trophy Rack
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One of the hunters started walking sideways,
pointing with his beer can at the rookie doe he’d bagged. “So,
how’d you do, Brice? That hot fucking bronze with the dark nipples
over there is mine. Looks like I’ll win the pot agai…” When he
actually looked at Faline, he stopped dead, spilling Dos Equis on
his boots.

“Brice…Holy. Fuck!”

The third hunter actually choked and blew
Heineken through his nose when he saw her hanging from the
pole.

While Heineken coughed and sputtered, Dos
Equis recovered some of his composure. “Hot damn, dude, look at
that rack! She’s got to be the biggest trophy on the ranch.” He
slugged half his beer and looked back at his catch, his face not
nearly as proud as before. “I’ll trade you mine plus five
thousand.”

It was all Faline could do not to smile,
though she felt a little sad for the other girl. It was good that
Brice’s voice distracted her.

“Are you fucking nuts? I had to track her for
over three hours before I got the shot. The first shot she gave me
would have ruined her rack. It was all I could do not to take it
anyway.”

By the time everyone got to her, the handlers
had slid her off the travel pole and untied her ankles. Now they
were hauling her bound wrists over a heavy metal hook that dangled
from a rope tied to a thick pine branch several feet above her
head. She’d long since figured out it wasn’t coincidence that
several other trees formed a circle around the huge fire pit ahead
of her, but, short of cutting one down and counting the rings,
there was no way of telling how long it had been since the trees
were planted. She knew they had to be at least a half-century
old.

Once they finished, she was just shy of
having to stand on the balls of her feet. For the moment, they left
her like that, but she knew that wasn’t going to last long.

“Wow, you’ve got nerves of steel, dude. With
those nipples in my sites, I’d have taken the shot anyway.”

Brice idly cupped her right tit and lifted it
as if she were nothing more than the animal she pretended to be.
His hand was soft, an executive’s hand, but his cool skin felt
good.

“Tell me! It
was
awesome, then I had
to pass on an ass shot, too.” To punctuate his comment, he gave her
a stinging slap across the rear. Being spanked was as common as
breathing around the camp—yet another reason she was looking
forward to the rest of the night.

She was trying to decide whether to wiggle
her bottom and bait him into another slap when one of his friends
poked her breast with a manicured fingernail. “How long did it take
her to fall?”

“No clue. All I know is it took me thirty
minutes of climbing over some craptastic terrain before I found her
sprawled out over this big as rock outcropping. Hauling her out was
a bitch, though…” He patted her breast. “…the padding on the back
was nice. Can you believe that complexion? How the hell does she
stay so white out here?”

“Complexion? You’re really looking at her
complexion? Dude, the ass. The tits!”

Brice grinned. “That’s what I’m talking
about! Think about what they’re gonna look like over my
mantle.”

The Heineken drinker blew the remaining beer
from his nose. “I’ll top Jer’s offer by two grand, dude. Trade for
my little doe plus seven grand. You can bag this one again next
time. I know just the place in my office where those tits would
look
fine
.”

“Right…” Apparently having enjoyed the
gelatin-like jiggle, Brice patted her breast again. “…and risk
never seeing these again? No way! She could retire or something.
She’s gotta be some kind of record.”

Though Faline managed to force back her
smile, she couldn’t do anything about the flush she felt heating
her cheeks. She did have the biggest tits of the entire herd; they
gave her the best cabin on the ranch because of it. The fireplace
and fully-stocked kitchen were nice, but the Jacuzzi was a godsend,
especially after a long hunt.

Perks and money aside, to be desired by every
man that came to the ranch was a rush she hadn’t considered when
she signed the contract. She’d definitely considered the money, and
the sex and bondage, but the idea that they all wanted her tits
mounted on their walls more than any of the other women was a rush.
The tightening and tingling in her loins only served to hammer the
point home.

“Besides…” her captor went on, “…I can’t wait
until it’s time for the foil burgers and…dessert?” He surprised her
with another hard slap across the butt, then another as they all
watched her breasts bounce. The third one really stung. A moan
slipped past her lips before she could stop it.

“Dude, she’s getting into it!”

Brice’s clueless response was kind of cute.
“Really, you think so?”

Seeing that he’d need some guidance, she
spread her feet as subtlety as she could. Not only did all three
paying customers notice, but so did the cameraman, who finished a
close up of her glistening pussy and danced around her for the best
angle on her ass.

“Go for it! She wants it!” Heineken said.

Needing no further encouragement, he popped
her a couple more times. She closed her eyes and wriggled her butt,
moaning quietly so he’d get the message.

He did, spanking her with a vengeance,
alternating from one cheek to the other. Her tummy clenched and her
pussy became warmer, tingling even more as her bottom heated up.
She spread her legs as far as she could, until she was barely on
her toes, and pushed her ass back, bringing her pussy in line with
the rest of her rear. Brice took the hint, and the next swat echoed
through the camp. From the way her labia stung, she knew his hand
came back moist.

Faline had rarely been so horny, and she
couldn’t believe she was getting paid for it. As the cameraman
dropped to his knees, zooming in on her crotch, she closed her
eyes, eager for more. Brice’s hand smacked across her pussy again.
She couldn’t keep from groaning.

She felt a hand come up between her legs,
close enough to brush the almost invisible downy hair that covered
her, but not
quite
touching. Goose bumps quickly covered the
tender flesh at his fingertips.

Dos Equis’ voice all but boomed. “A hundred
bucks says she comes if I finger her.”

Heineken laughed, and Brice’s palm popped her
left ass cheek.

“Sure, I’ll take that bet.”

Two X’s middle finger rolled across her
clitoris at the same time that Brice’s palm came across in a
wicked, cupped slap. Heineken lost his bet a half second later, and
for a full two minutes the videographer recorded the two men
teasing and swatting her through one of the hottest orgasms she’d
had in years.

“Well, that’s a first.” The taxidermist
chuckled as he pulled a measuring tape from his pocket. “From the
flush on that rack, it won’t be the only one tonight.”

Still panting, she watched through
half-lidded eyes as the cameraman panned the camera back and then
up to her breasts. After he finished recording every mole, freckle,
scratch, bump and crevice, he backed up to record the taxidermist
at work.

The older man stripped about 36 inches of
tape from the case and moved toward her chest. “Is everyone ready
for the official measurement?”

Not only did the three hunters move to gawk
over the man’s shoulder, but the handlers also stopped to watch.
The two other, all-but-forgotten, does were frowning. He touched
the cold metal tape to the tip of Faline’s left nipple then ran it
across the very tip of her right breast. He brought the tape around
her back and back around front until it overlapped the first
nipple. He held the tape in place until her breathing slowed then
raises a brow as he checked his measurement.

Brice danced from foot to foot and bounced on
his toes. “Well?”

“I have a few other measurements to take
first.”

The taxidermist let about half the tape slap
back into the case and wrapped the remainder around the base of her
left breast. After doing the same with her right, he measured the
horizontal diameter of her right areola and whistled. Then he took
similar measurements vertically and diagonally. Then he took a
measurement from nipple to nipple and a few more from her nipples
to various places around the bases of her breasts. Finally, he
jotted down a long series of numbers and smiled.

“There’s absolutely no doubt we have a new
record. I’ve never mounted a rack this big. He traced a fingernail
through some of the outer crinkles in her areola. Look at that
unique wrinkling, and the colors…”

The older man tapped the videographer’s
shoulder. “You got good close-ups, right? Didn’t miss that freckle
on the side of her nipple there?” The camera came close as he
pointed to the inside of her right nipple then turned back to her
hunter. “You do want the rack to show the rut texture and colors,
or should we wait until she calms down?”

Brice poked both of his buddies in the arms.
“Oh, definitely as horny…ah…rutty…as possible.”

The taxidermist nodded. “My guess is that we
already have pretty good rut colors on film, but we’ll pick the
most vivid shades from the whole video after you’ve gone.”

Faline was watching everyone talk about her
as if she were the ignorant doe they paid her to be, and she
reveled in every word. The talk of “rut colors” made her even
hornier, especially with the inference that they may get even more
“vivid” before the end of the night.

When the other two hunters finally wandered
over to their own does, the taxidermist yelled at a game handler
from across the camp. “Jeff, I’m ready for the casting!”

A couple minutes later, “Jeff” walked up
carrying a bucket of thick, pink liquid. He handed the taxidermist
a large paint brush and passed a bottle of oil to Brice.

The older man gestured at her rack. “Coat
them real well so the casting material doesn’t stick. Make sure you
get the tips especially well. This latex is my on special mix,
chilled to below freezing to insure the very tightest contours, but
it still dries fast.”

Brice wasted no time pouring a stream of oil
down the upper curves of her breasts and digging his fingers in.
Faline relaxed into his hands. The deep massage felt wonderful,
even when he pinched and stretched her nipples. By the time he
stepped back to let the taxidermist work, she could feel the wind
chilling the juices coating her upper thighs.

The taxidermist dipped the brush in the
bucket and then slapped it across the tip of her right breast. Even
though she’d done it before, Faline gasped as the frigid goo drew
her nipple and areola tight. She felt like she’d been coated with
liquid ice, and it wasn’t long before the tip of that breast was a
continuous burning throb. She tried rubbing her thighs together to
take advantage of the feeling.

The taxidermist coated both breasts, pressing
the bristles into the tips, making certain the material filled
every wrinkle. By the time he finished her other breast, the first
had dried, and he added a second layer to it. After the entire rack
was completely coated, he poured the last of the pink latex over
them.

Five minutes later, she’d managed to work
herself into a pleasant tingle when the taxidermist peeled the
half-inch thick mold free. After inspecting the cast, he smiled.
“It doesn’t get any more detailed than this.” He pointed inside the
mold and Brice leaned forward to look. “Not only did I get a
perfect cast of her nipple and areolas, but all three little moles
came out.”

Without waiting for a reply, he walked away,
almost tripping over a log as he inspected his work.

After chuckling at his co-worker, the
cameraman yelled at her handlers. “Time to string her up,
guys!”

 

He poked Brice on the arm. “Now we’ll get
some video of you hefting the rack. I’ll start while they tie her
up, then we’ll get you lifting her.”

Getting completely into the scene, Brice
wasted no time sliding his hands up under her tits, lifting them
and letting them slowly slide out of his grasp until he snagged
their tips with his fingers. “I don’t get to haul her up like
this…”

Had Dos Equis still been fingering her when
Brice’s fingernails dug in and he all but lifted her off the ground
by her nipples, she had no doubt she would have come again.

The cameraman snapped a couple stretched
nipple and gouging fingernail shots. “Trust me, you’ll love what’s
coming.” Though she knew the man had been talking to Brice, he may
as well have been addressing her, too.

For the third time in her new career, she
took a deep breath as a gangly rigger started to work from behind
her. Though she couldn’t see him, she knew he started with a loop
at her back before he ran it several times around her ribcage and
right under her breasts. The rope was coarse and scratchy, but that
would translate into something much better in just a few minutes.
She closed her eyes as he tied some sort of hitch and started
coming back around the top of her chest, across the tops of her
tits. It was about to get good.

She breathed and concentrated on the feel of
the rope running up her cleavage under the two sets of loops. He
ran it around the back of her neck and back down between her
breasts, forming a rope loop that started pulling the other loops
tight. It wasn’t long before the wonderful breast-crushing
sensation started. It increased several times over when he slid the
rope under the chest ties and looped each breast, tugging until
they ballooned and throbbed in a way that she never would have
believed she enjoyed before she’d taken the job, let alone looked
forward to.

By the time he was done, her pussy felt
swollen, warm and tingly. The light mountain breeze chilled the wet
sheen coating her labia and inner thighs and drew the skin covering
the balls of breast into gooseflesh. She opened her eyes long
enough to see they were already turning a light shade of lavender,
her areola pulled into a tight, purple sheen by the inflated
mounds. She knew they’d only get darker, and that the light
throbbing would become so much more.

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