Sageis Del Gyrnos
bc2040@satx.rr.com
http://www.furaffinity.net/user/sageis
http://sageis.deviantart.com
https://inkbunny.net/Sageis
Blood Tapes 3: Hunting
	Years ago real meat was banned, made illegal and replaced with synthetic meat. For years a subversive counter culture grew, organized and funded by a shadowy group which released video tapes of predators hunting and killing. Over time this culture grew and slowly took over. As a compromise, true meat was unbanned and many prey species were selectively bred, creating a subspecies of each that was legal to hunt. These prey had shorter life spans and weak intellect; they were made to be attractive and make good trophies. Predators could hunt again, and non-carnivores were safe as long as the Prey laws were enforced.
	She was a cute thing, but then again, all Prey were. She was a rabbit of some sort; her long ears didn’t perk up much, they seemed to flop about to the sides of her head, and the bright red tag at the end of one of them had all of her information. Age, weight at time of release from the breeding facility, and so on were all printed on the tag in neat little lines as well as a barcode that could be scanned. Kyle had found her out wandering the woods on one of his camping weekends. He was in his late thirties, pushing towards forty. He remembered how quickly the world embraced synthmeat, and then how quickly once more things had changed.
	He licked his lips; the Prey-rabbit probably had a name, assigned to her by the breeding facility that she came from. She probably would tell him if he removed the scarlet gag from her mouth, but he had no intention of doing so. Her arms visibly twitched from the strain of the rope pulling them up above her; she had just enough slack to stand on her tip toes. Kyle admired his handiwork, he had bound and gagged her right away, and his camping knife was more than up to the challenge of removing her clothes, exposing breasts little more than a handful and the lightly fuzzed ‘V’ of her genitals. Prey species were sterilized once they reached maturity, of course, to prevent competitors from breeding them. 
	Kyle’s phone made a light chime. This far out into the woods, it took some time to get a response on the global Wi-Fi, but the app that he had scanned the Prey-rabbit’s barcode into confirmed that she was unclaimed. A charge was posted to his bank account by the same app, and a countdown began; by law, once claimed, a Prey could only be kept for twenty-four hours. From his camping bag the wolf produced a red leather bondage hood; it had been left in the camping supplies after a particularly fun weekend with one of his exes and he had never bothered to remove it, but it would come in handy now. Tugging the hood over the rabbit’s face sent her into a trembling panic, her legs kicking out a bit, but with the mask blocking her vision and smell, her kicks were wildly inaccurate.
	He took his hand and laid two resounding smacks against her rump, enjoying the hefty sound it made and the feeble whimpering of the Prey. Taking his camping knife up from where he left it, with his free hand he roughly groped the Prey-rabbit’s breast, the knife in his other hand sliced the rope free from the knot. The second her feet were fully down, she was off like a bolt. Her hands were still bound, so she wouldn’t be able to pull the hood off easily, if at all. Kyle grinned and put the knife back with his camping supplies, taking his time and stripping out of his t-shirt and jeans as the blinded Prey-rabbit sped off in whatever direction she thought her salvation would be in. 
	Kyle tried to give her a decent head start, but he couldn’t wait long. It had been a long time since he had gotten to truly hunt, and his plans set his mouth watering and his loins aching. A deep breath in though his nose, and it was like sparks were going off in his brain; he could smell her fear, her panic, even her desire to escape, it left a trail as visible to his nose as a neon sign would have been for his eyes. He was off in leaps and bounds, letting the predator that the synthmeat movement had tried to bury and suppress for so many years guide his every step as he ran after her. He had no pack to help him ambush her, so he would have to run her to ground. She was panicked and could not see; it would not be hard.
	Taking deep breaths in with his nose and letting out heavy explosions of breath, Kyle jumped over tree roots that she had fallen over and scratched herself on, he ducked under branches that had scored across her breasts, finding clumps of fur and scatterings of blood. In the distance, he could hear the babbling of a brook and smell the crisp clean non-scent of running water. That’s where she would head. He changed his path, not following behind her now, but angling to the side and then back in a curving arc to come at her from the side.
	He reached the brook and the clearing around it just moments before her panicked scramble brought her to it. Kyle had come out of the woods north of her, and continued his momentum. His body slammed into hers, sending the two of them rolling in the dirt and mud of the brooks bank. She was bleeding along her legs and upper chest from the falls and branches, little blood streaks staining her fur. She scrambled to her feet to try and return to the flight, but Kyle was tired of the chase and ready for more fun. Grabbing her by one of her long ears, he hauled her down into the slippery mud. He grasped her by the back of the head, and slammed her hooded face into the muddy ground by the brook.
	She was clearly dazed, if not injured, by how much her struggles eased. Kyle gave a lupine grin, his tongue hanging out the corner of his mouth, and flipped her over onto her belly, facing her into the brook so her head was underwater save when she arched her back to pull it up. He used one leg to force her legs apart, one hand gripping her hip to hold it at the right angle, the other on her back between her shoulder blades to keep her head at least partially submerged.
	His tapered member, shaped almost like a spear, found its home within her folds. His shaft sank into the soft, tight embrace of her cunt with a forceful thrust that elicited a shriek that managed to get though the gag in her muzzle. Pushing her head back down under the water, Kyle thrust harder, forcing his length deeper into her until his swelling knot was grinding against her folds. He held her down with one hand and kept her hips in the proper angle with the other, his own hips hammering into her, roughly bruising her folds with that battering knot until finally it stretched her wide enough, and he tied in her with a wet sound.
	His hips pistoned rapidly against her then, thrusting like a jackhammer. Whenever her struggles seemed to be growing too weak, he pulled her head up above the water, giving her a few moments of air while he used her body for his own pleasure. Growling loudly and grunting into her ear, he finished inside her, his thick shaft swelling to fullness and throbbing with the rapid beating of his heart. His heavy orbs pulled up tightly against his body as they spilt themselves out into her unwilling body.
	Kyle’s stomach rumbled loudly, reminding him of his final intent with the Prey-rabbit. He leaned forward over her, dragging her out of the water fully now, her wet fur would easily feel his hot breath as it washed over the nape of her neck.
	His teeth sank into her neck with ease. Her hot salty blood, like some rare candy, burst on his tongue, flooding his mouth with her flavor. She screamed again though the gag and her struggles renewed. Kyle growled as her thrashing pulled on the knot lodged deeply inside her and binding her body to his. He planted a hand firmly on the back of her head and another on her elbow to hold her down. His teeth, bloodied red by the first bite, tore into her forcibly exposed neck, ripping though muscle and flesh until they found bone, crushing it with a loud snap. 
His hips started thrusting again with renewed purpose, going much slower this time. His fangs tore a large gash out of her neck as her struggles slowly faded, working his way down her shoulder. Bright red blood flowed out of her, mixed with the mud of the bank, and then sluggishly flowed into the river some dirty red color. Her struggling had stopped, but her heart continued to beat, blood coming from her wounds in fits and spurts now. For a moment Kyle lamented stripping; he had left his knife behind at camp. This next part would not be so pleasant. With a slight wince on his part and no reaction from the Prey-rabbit, he tugged back firmly with his hips, forcing his manhood to stretch her folds once more as he worked his knot free of her.
Taking her by the back of the head he dragged her to the brook and once more held her head under the water. She did not react, and Kyle though that he might have severed her spine at some point; still, he held her head under the water, counting firmly tell he was sure she was good and drowned. Slinging her over his shoulder, he started back for camp and the knife he would use to butcher what he had not savaged raw.
	Later, he licked the last of the blood from the hood before putting it back with the rest of its camping supplies, where he would make sure it always remained in case he needed to use it again. The leather was a little scratched up and damaged, but the hood was still serviceable. Kyle packed the leftover meat away, wrapping it in plastic and storing it in his camping cooler. A finger swipe on the app stopped the countdown and confirmed the removal of the Prey-rabbit from the registry.