1 - Body in the Alcove

"Holy shit! Is it real?"

"Looks pretty damned real."

Fanni had to agree.

She was looking into a large glass box, sitting on a pedestal. It looked like the typical, free-standing museum case but she had the feeling its purpose had more in common with a trophy case, for inside it was what appeared to be the life-like body of a dead woman. She was floating in some kind of clear liquid, presumably a preservative of some kind; and there was something about the body that didn't look quite real. Perhaps it was just the body's unnatural stillness, for Fanni had seen stuffed animals that gave her the same sort of feeling. Or perhaps it was looking at flesh and hair through the glass and liquid. If it was an actual dead woman, the body had been perfectly preserved. When she looked closely Fanny couldn't see any wrinkles on the woman's face, but she could see tiny hairs on her body. Her pubic mound had been shaven, and her arms and legs had been cut off. Stooping low to look at the end of the stump, Fanny could see the striations of bone, muscle and skin. Again, it didn't quite look real, but if this was some kind of bizarre statue, the artist had done a remarkable job and paid incredible attention to detail.

When she thought about it, what Fanni found most disturbing was the fact that this body had obviously been placed out where someone was likely to find her.

"Can't be real," the fourth girl in the group said, in her heavy Russian accent.

Fanni had met so many new faces this evening that she couldn't be sure of her name, but she thought it was Natasha. It didn't really matter. Almost all the faces here tonight were more or less interchangeable. Fanni didn't know any of the other women in attendance and from what she's seen she didn't think many of them had known each other before this evening either. The other two girls in this particular group were named Rhonda and Sally. They seemed to be one of the few exceptions as they appeared to be pretty close.

Suddenly, what had seemed like an opportunity was beginning to look dark and menacing.

Still, how often did you get the chance to compete on a national TV show for a chance to win one million dollars? Even if it was called Hunting Season and the losers were supposed to end up being captured by mock-hunters and then serve a year as their legal slave, but at least after their term of service they were supposed to be paid $50,000 for their services. Only now Fanni was beginning to wonder how many of the contestants would actually live to see their money.

She wasn't sure what it meant, but Fanni was pretty sure that whoever's party this was had intended for someone to find this woman's preserved body. It wasn't like the four of them had been off snooping down some hall where they shouldn't have been. There hadn't been any restricted signs. No guards had blocked their way. The door hadn't even been locked. Any one of those precautions would have been easy enough to put in place, if someone hadn't wanted this woman's presence known. And not just by a few of the women at the party, but by all the women at the party, for they had to know these women would talk about something like this. That meant the trophy case was either intended to scare them, so they'd put on a better show for the TV cameras; or it was meant to let them know that the Hunting Season would be for real, and the people who were putting it on didn't care if they knew.

Up until now, the night had actually been a lot of fun.

How often do you get invited to a wild, invite-only party on a private island, with free food and booze; a great line up of big name bands; and a small but elite crowd comprised mostly of other contestants and super-rich (and apparently eligible) men. Usually you'd think it would be any gold-diggers dream-if you didn't know why all these people were here.

The other girls were looking around at each other and the looks on their faces suggested that they were beginning to have the same kinds of worries that Fanni was.

Fanni cleared her throat a bit nervously. "How exactly did the rest of you find out about this little... opportunity?"

Rhonda shrugged. "A man was handing out business cards at a night club. He gave them out to dozens of girls."

"Only the prettiest," Sally added. "He wasn't inviting any of the skanks."

"And the most bizarrely dressed," Rhonda nodded, "And the one's with masters."

"What did the business card say?"

Rhonda shrugged again, "Something about winning a million dollars being a contestant on this new reality TV show called Hunting Season. And a time, place and phone number."

"At first we thought it was going to be about girls on the hunt for a guy," Sally said, "kind of like that show, The Bachelor."

"Only eight or nine of us showed up, including me and Sally-but I'm pretty sure some of them weren't from the same night club," Sally said.

"How many showed up tonight?"

"Three. I think."

"You two," Fanni guessed.

"Yeah, and another girl with a master who talked her into signing."

Fanni wasn't surprise that so few accepted. Even dangling the prize of a million dollars, the prospect of becoming an actual slave 24/7 wouldn't appeal to most women. These days, becoming a slave was an increasingly common way to pay off one's debt, or earn money for college, or whatever. It was a short period of pain and humiliation in exchange for a nice little nest egg, to help a girl get ahead in life. Only I wasn't looking quite so appealing now, with this preserved woman staring down at them from her pedestal.

"So, if you thought it was going to be more like that Bachelor thing, why did you sign up?"

"Why not? It seemed like it might be fun."

"Bondage and submission sound fun to you?" Natasha asked.

"He did recruit us at a fetish club," Sally said rolling her eyes.

"The real question is, why did you come, if you dislike the idea so much?"

"I be slave for one year;" Natasha said, "Then I get America life." She shrugged, "That's not so bad. I my country I be slave anyway. "

"And what about you," Rhonda asked Fanni.

"I needed the money."

Natasha shook her head as if she didn't think Fanni was very bright. "You think you win the million."

"I owe a lot of money to the kind of people that you don't want to owe money to. I figured this was the best shot I had to get out from under them. And the $10,000 signing bonus, plus the offer to cover my expenses didn't hurt either. I made sure they'd cover my interest payments before I signed on the dotted line."

"How long will that hold them off?"

"Not long, but if I do win I can pay off what I owe and still have more than half the after-taxes money left."

"Your chance to win is not very good," Natasha said.

Fanni nodded in agreement. "If I loose, I still get the $50,000 which will cover the vig for the year I'm gone. Then I'll have to sell myself on the slave-market for several years to pay off the rest. But that's what I was facing anyway, so all I've lost by trying is an extra year of slavery. I thought it was worth betting on the long-shot."

"What is this vig thing?"

"That's the interest I owe on the money I borrowed."

"Not that it does you any good now, but... maybe you shouldn't have borrowed so much?" Rhonda said.

"I didn't have a choice," Fanni said, "My mother needed surgery. She was sick for a long time. It was either pay for her operations or let her die. I've been working as a dancer at a night club, making pretty good money; and I've done as many video shoots for internet porn sites as I could but, especially near the end, it still wasn't anywhere close to enough."

"You worked for porn sites?" Rhonda asked, "What kind?"

"Bondage mostly... I have a friend who knew someone who put me in contact."

"Does it pay well?"

"Not bad," Fanni admitted with a frown, "but not enough for what I needed."

She was a little irritated that the others were asking so many personal questions. Normally, she didn't like to talk about this sort of thing, especially not with total strangers. On the other hand, who better to talk to than total strangers; people she'd probably never see again. Outside of her work environment, there hadn't been anyone she could confide in about this kind of stuff.

"How is your mother?" Natasha asked.

Fanni just shook her head. She liked talking about that even less.

"I think I'd have been alright if the club where I was working hadn't had a health code violation just after I paid for the surgery. That left me scrambling' a bit to find another club close to my home that was looking to hire, because my car isn't all that dependable; it's always breaking down. When I got the loan, I was going to use what was left of the money to start my own on-line site, and I think it would have worked, but then mom needed another unexpected surgery and the vig was a little more than I expected and when she didn't... make it there were funeral expenses and back taxes. This opportunity just seemed like my best chance to get out from under everything. I don't think I would have done it if I'd seen any other way."

"Is same," Natasha said, "I would not do this thing if I had other choice."

"That's right," Fanni said thoughtfully, "We're all relatively poor, which means that none of us have enough money to make a fuss when things go wrong."

Sally laughed. "I would have done it for the free make-over," she said, trying to lighten things up.

"You got a make-over too," Fanni asked the other girls.

Both girl's nodded.

To see if we'd clean up, Fanni thought. Then to the others she said, "They gave me a background check... how about you?"

Again they all nodded.

To make sure we don't have family to come looking for us when we disappear.

"I take it we all signed a contract as well?"

"Yeah, I signed one."

"So did I; my lawyer explained everything to me and said it was pretty air tight."

"I have no lawyer," Natasha said. "But they have lawyer who explains to me their contract."

Just like me, Fanni thought, Jerry, the guy who told her about this gig, had recommended the lawyer she'd used. She looked at Rhonda and Sally. "How long have you known your lawyer?"

"Not long. He was referred by the guy who recruited us."

Wonderful! Apparently, they'd all signed contracts, but those contracts were written by the people who ran the game, and explained to them by proxies of the people who ran the game.

"I'll bet none of us, including me, bothered to read the fine print!"

Rhonda frowned, "You make it sound like..."

"I'm just saying we really don't know what we signed up for," Fanni said, "and I can't help wondering if it's really what we thought. Think about it: we're on a privately owned island that is out of U.S. jurisdiction, schmoozing with a bunch of rich and powerful men we don't know. And now were standing in a room with a dead woman who's been preserved and put on display so we'll find her. I don't know, but suddenly this great adventure of ours isn't looking quite so great."

Fanni left the other girls and went back out to rejoin the party-but now she looked at everything with new eyes. Whereas before she had barely noticed the serving girls in their tight black dresses, now she realized that those dresses were so tight that they also served as hobbles which effectively forced them to take small mincing steps. And the ruffled cuffs at the end of their bare arms hid a sturdy leather cuff with a small metal ring. And the chokers they wore looked as if they could double as perfectly serviceable slave collars.

When the DJ first introduced himself, to get the party started, he'd said, "Welcome recruits, to this year's Hunting Season!"

What had he meant by calling them 'recruits'? She wondered.

She went to the punchbowl for another drink, and noticed that the women she'd thought were sitting on chairs as they served appeared instead to be sitting on a single pole. Their dresses fanned out, covering what was going on underneath, but Fanni could guess that they were probably sitting on some kind of cross bar; and as little as they moved when they fidgeted, she suspected that they must be strapped down or held in place by some kind of dildo or something. The pole itself was anchored to the floor by a pivot point that allowed them to move forward and backwards in a relatively natural looking way. By walking around to the side of the table, Fanni could see that their feet where shackled to rings in the floor, but this fact was hidden by the ample tablecloth that draped nearly to the floor.

Fanni questioned others as she wandered around the dance floor. All seemed to agree that they are here to compete on a reality show-sort of like Survival, only intended for a very elite clientele on an exclusive pay-per-view network. They all agreed that the rules of the game were for the female contestants to be released, naked, onto the island where they would be hunted by rich people (mostly men) who had paid handsomely for the privilege.

All the other women had apparently received the same compensation. This fact eased Fanni's mind a little, since it seemed to suggest that the show might actually be on the up-and-up. Like Fanni, that compensation including ten thousand dollars, and a signed contract with Hunting Seasons Inc. to pay all of their basic bills for two months; while any female contestant who had not been captured by the end of the month was guaranteed to win a million dollars. If they were captured, however, the contract they'd signed bound them legally to one year of servitude-at the end of which they would receive $50,000 for their services.

Apparently, each hunter had paid $100,000 to participate in the event; and there seemed to be about one hunter for every woman. Assuming there really was a pay-per-view network generating income as well, it seem plausible that the promised payout could be generated from the proceeds, as long as no more than a few girls survived the whole month. More likely they had things rigged so that it was very unlikely that even a single girl would win the million. That was to be expected, but what really bothered Fanni was the realization that they could sell the girl's for a lot more money if their terms of service were much longer, or even permanent. If the girl's were never released, there would be no need to pay the $50,000 either. Fanni wasn't sure how many women were at the party, but a quick estimate suggested as many as thirty or forty. Not paying all of them would save as much as two million dollars.

Fanni walked back towards the entrance, wondering what the chances were that she'd be able to just leave. As he approached, she noticed that two women were standing against the wall on either side of the door. She hadn't even noticed them when she'd come in. Each one was standing as if at attention, except that their legs were held apart by a leg brace between their knees. It was a flat, pillory-like piece of wood with an extra hole in the center to support a broomstick-sized dowel rod that ran from the floor to somewhere up under their cheerleader-like skirts. Again, Fanni couldn't tell for sure just by looking, but she had the distinct impression that the end of the dowel rods were probably attached with dildos that were embedded in the women's cunts. One of the women was rocking slowly (but steadily) up and down on the balls of her feet-apparently fucking herself as she stood by the door as decoration.

She didn't stop as Fanni walked up and stood right beside her.

"You seem to be enjoying yourself," Fanni observed.

The woman just looked at her for a moment out of the corner of her eye then looked away without answering.

"Do you belong to someone around here?"

The woman looked at her again, with a look that seemed to imply that she was of no more consequence than a mosquito buzzing around her head; and for a moment Fanni was afraid that she wasn't going to answer, but then the woman said, "I belong to the owner of this island."

"Who is that?"

"His name is Renaldo."

"Were you a contestant at one of these hunting parties?"

"I was."

"So, I guess that bit about serving a one year contract..."

"After my year, I volunteered to stay on as one of Renaldo's personal salves."

"Permanently?"

"For a five-year extension."

"I take it that's like two hundred and fifty going into your bank account somewhere?"

The woman didn't answer, so Fanni tried a different tact. "So, what's the island like?"

"It's not quite a tropical island, we're just a little too far north for that, but it still produces an abundance of fruit trees and many other edible things-especially now, during the spring. Pay attention in class and you should have no problem finding shelter and more than enough to eat."

Class?

"And what about the things that want to eat me?"

"Other than the hunters, there are no dangerous predators on the island. There are a few smaller things that can be dangerous; some are even poisonous. But they'll teach you how to recognize and avoid them-or, failing that, how to treat their bites and stings. Very few are deadly and those that are, are quite rare.

"And what would happen if I tried to just walk right out of this door right now."

The slave smiled faintly, but didn't answer-and Fanni was pretty sure she knew the answer. For a moment she considers trying to bolt anyway, but all that was likely to do was to make a fool of herself and ruin everyone else's party. If she really was right, she figured she might as well let the rest of the women enjoy their last day of freedom.

Fanni returned to the dance floor, poured herself a drink, and listened to the music, but she didn't' think the rest of the party would be as much fun.


2 - Survival Training

"Wake up ladies! It's time to start your training as PREY!"

Fanni sat up and rubbed her eyes then looked at the tall guy who was banging on a small, metal can as he walking down the center isle of the barn that had been temporarily converted into a make shift dorm room for the contestants.

"My name is Sergeant," yelled the man banging on the can; and his voice had the cadence of a drill sergeant. "As of this morning, your contracts are legally binding, making you officially rabbits!"

Just perfect, Fanni thought, angry at herself for not even trying to leave the night before. If this Sergeant was telling the truth, it sounded as if she might have been allowed to leave last night, if she'd actually tried. Maybe that was why the woman at the door had smiled that way when she'd asked about leaving. She'd never know for sure now.

"That means," Sergeant went on, "That there can be only two outcomes during your stay on this island! Either you will learn enough during you training period to avoid being captured or you will spend the next year of your life as a slave! Assuming you do not want to be a hunter's slave, I suggest you pay attention and learn as much during this one-week training period as you possibly can! I and the other instructors will teach you what you need to survive and stay hidden on this island! Whether you are captured may depend on how well you can learn these lessons! So hurry up and form a line, rabbits! Your survival training is waiting for you!"

One of the girls raised her hand tentatively. "Excuse me, but..."

"Excuse me, sir!"

"Ah... What?"

"When you address me you will refer to me as sir! Is that understood, little rabbit?"

"Yes sir."

"Then what's on your mind, rabbit?"

"Ah..."

"Speak up, we haven't got all day!"

"I was wondering where my clothes were, sir."

"Clothes? rabbits don't wear clothes," he said, walking uncomfortably close to the girl who had asked the question as he all but screamed. "From now until the end of your training you will wear only the clothes that God gave you! If God gave you a hairy bush, then you have my permission to wear it! At the end of your training, you will be allowed to wear boots and a few other bits of clothing, but for the most part, anything you wear, you will have to make or find once you are released into the wild! Is that understood, rabbit?"

"Yes sir."

Sergeant turned back to the room at large. "Now line up and prepare to be placed in restraints." He turned to the rabbit who had just asked the question. "Unless you have another question, rabbit?"

"Ah... why are we being put in restraints?"

"During your training, you will wear restraints because rabbits are wild animals," he screamed, pushing his face belligerently towards hers. "If not restrained, you might try to run away! And YOU will NOT be running away!"

He turned back around so that he was addressing the whole room once again.

"Wearing restraints (and not wearing clothing) will also help acclimate you to the necessities of your future lives-during which (in all probability) you will not be wearing clothes again for more than a year! If you dislike not wearing clothes, then I strongly suggest that you do not get caught by a hunter while on this island!"

When the women had formed a line they were lead to the entrance of the barn. Waiting just outside the door there was a small table piled high with metal shackles; and a man waiting to help the women put them on. Each woman was given two cuffs with a short length of chain between them. One went around her arms, just above the elbows; and the other went around her wrists-thus pinning her arms tightly to her sides.

From there, they were lead back inside the mansion. The large ball room (where the dance had been held the night before) had been converted into a dining hall. There were three rows of tables on the dance floor, while the stage had been replaced by a podium and a microphone. The men from the previous night were seated at evenly spaced intervals around the tables, so that there was one empty chair for every man.

"Better take a seat and eat up, rabbits," Sergeant said into the microphone. He wasn't yelling anymore, but his voice still sounded like a drill sergeant. "Except for water breaks, this will be all you get until the evening meal."

Obviously, the women were supposed to sit among the men. Fanni moved quickly, choosing a young hunter with a pleasant looking face; not so attractive that he would be conceited, but easy enough to look at. He smiled at her, obviously pleased with her choice. And Fanni sat patiently, while the other women found seats.

"Each of you rabbit has now been randomly paired yourself with one hunter," Sergeant said. "You are now officially this hunter's pet. Over the next seven days, during the course of your orientation, the two of you will be spending a lot of time together. How much time is entirely up to your hunter. Some hunters like to remove the shackles from their rabbits, giving them a certain degree of autonomy. Others treat their rabbits as House Pets, as I like to call it. In addition to attending the instructional units together, they enjoy the hands on experience of feeding, bathing and taking care of their rabbits every need. They prefer to spend every waking and sleeping moment with the rabbit who has chosen them!

A warning to you hunter's, while you have nearly absolute control over your rabbit keep in mind that they are not yet officially slaves. Do not go beyond the limits of the rabbit's legal contract or the consequences could be severe. And rabbits," Sergeant paused a moment for dramatic effect. "If you find that you do not like your chosen partner, you will not be allowed to request another. I recommend that you try not to piss your hunter off. They have complete control over you for the duration of this training period, and possibly beyond; and they can make life very difficult for you if they want."

Fanni looked at her chosen partner and swallowed nervously. He smiled reassuringly and she fervently hoped that he was as nice as he seemed.

"For those who aren't eating yet, I suggest that you get started," Sergeant said, "If you have not finished by the end of this lecture, there will be nothing to eat until this evening."

Fanni looked down at her bowl. It contained what looked like a handful of pellet sized biscuits or crackers-she wasn't really sure which descriptive term was more appropriate. There was also an oversized juice box with a straw in it. It was a meal that could be eaten without the use of one's hands, if you were willing to lean over and put your face in the bowl. Fanni noticed that a few women were already doing that, but she preferred not to.

"Would you mind feeding me," she asked.

Her hunter just gave her a friendly but amused smile and said, "Sorry, not my job."

Thanks, Fanni thought as she leaned over and took one of the biscuit-like lumps into her mouth. The hunter's smile widened even more as she lowered her head towards the bowl.

She wasn't expecting much but whatever these biscuit-like lumps of food were, they were actually not that bad. They were clearly not made of bread. They were chewy and had a dark reddish-brown color with a hearty flavor. Her best guess was that they were made of some kind of partially dried potato product mixed with seeds, bits of dried meat and fruit, some chopped vegetables-all mashed together in one bite-sized and presumably nutritious lump.

It was food that felt like it would stay with her through the day.

"As I was saying," Sergeant went on, "Hunters are responsible for the care of their rabbits! How you treat them is largely up to you, however, you may not prevent them from attending the scheduled classes; you may not render your rabbit unfit to be a contestant. In addition to breaking bones, or letting your rabbit become sick, this also includes withholding adequate food, sleep or even exercise in an attempt to make your rabbit weaker and easier to catch. If your rabbit is rendered unfit in any way you will forfeit your tuition and be barred from participating in this years hunt. So take good care of your rabbits, hunters.

"Now, some of you may be wondering why you will be taking most of your classes together! After all, you may think the knowledge a rabbit needs to survive would not be the same knowledge a hunter needs to capture them. Smart hunters and rabbits, however, will realize that all such knowledge is valuable. Knowing what a rabbit is going to be eating will inform you where to look for them. Knowing how a hunter will create his traps will inform you how to avoid those same traps. Everything that you see and hear during your instructional sessions may prove useful, if you have the wit to apply that knowledge. So pay attention-not only to what applies to you, but also to what applies to your opponents.

"The following information will be repeated again, before the rabbits are released into the wild. But at this time I will give you a general overview of the Hunting Season schedule. After you've finished your training, at the end of this week, at 8 AM on Sunday morning, all rabbits will be released onto the main island. This includes more than thirty thousand acres of wild land to forage, not including rivers, mountains and the parts of the sea that you can swim in. For those of you who aren't familiar with acres... that's nearly forty-seven square miles of forests, mountains, meadows, and fresh streams.

"During Hunting Season, rabbits will be permitted to wear boots, gloves and any of the specially approved outfits that you see modeled on the mannequins over along the south wall. If you desire to wear one of these outfits in the wild, inform your hunter and he will escort you to the tailor's office during one of your regularly scheduled free sessions and one will be made in your size. In addition, each rabbit will be given a small carrying case for holding essential survival supplies. This will include a map containing the locations of several specially hidden supply caches which contain food and other luxury items that will make your life on this island easier. One of these caches will be marked as your own personal supply. No one else will have the location to that cache. In addition, it will have a lock with a combination that only you know. I suggest that you place the things that you do not wish to be stolen in this cache for safe keeping. A minimum of three other caches will also appear on your map. The location of these caches will be shared randomly by other rabbits and hunters. I suggest you use caution when visiting them; however, the advantage of these caches is that they are much larger than your personal caches and contain additional types of supplies which you might call luxury items.

"Exactly 24 hours after the rabbits have been released, the hunters will be free to start tracking you down. Each hunter is free to capture as many rabbits as he can. Hunters will have their own maps, as well as other advantages, such as hunting knives-which they can use to build traps-and other specially approved pieces of equipment. If you brought your own equipment, make sure to have it validated before taking it out into the field. This will avoid the possibility of having your captures invalidated upon review.

"In addition, all hunters have been given a set of identification tags. If you do not have your tags yet, make sure to get them immediately. Do not loose these tags-especially if you are a woman hunter, as these tags will be the primary method used to distinguish you from the rabbits. If you loose these tags and find yourself taking a bath in a stream, you may-and probably will-be captured and treated like a rabbit. I've learned from past experience that male hunters tend to have a warped sense of humor; they may not accept the fact that you have clothing as proof that you are a hunter. Therefore, I recommend that you keep these tags around your neck at all times, and do not remove them for any reason. If you need to take a bath, I suggest you wash with the tags on-they are rust proof as well as hypoallergenic."

"Now, although every effort has been made to avoid unnecessary injuries during your stay on our island, excellent doctors are available for virtually any emergency. Any hunter who needs a doctor may call for one by activating the tracking sensor build into your tag."

The sergeant continued to drone on like that: spewing forth rules and regulations, recommending strategies and prohibiting certain actions.

Fanni tried to pay attention, but she was still tired from rising so early and she found her mind wandering from time to time and had to shake herself awake. If her arms hadn't been bound at her side she would have rubbed her eyes.

Finally the Sergeant ended his discourse by saying, "You will now have some scheduled free time, so the rabbits can chose one of the approved outfits and go for their fittings. We will meet back here in one hour, so that you can receive your schedules. Follow those schedules carefully. Because the whole group will be split up into smaller classes, if you miss an instructional unit it may be possible to make it up during one of your free periods-but any pair that misses more than three instructional units will be disqualified. Hunters will forfeit their tuition fees and be sent home; rabbits will be taken directly to the holding cells where they will wait to be purchased at the end-of-season auction. So I suggest that you don't miss your classes.

"Enjoy your free time."

Fanni's hunter followed her over to the mannequins and tagged along as she walked down the row, looking at each one.

"They don't cover very much, do they," he said.

One of the house slaves, who was obviously posted to give help and answer questions, over heard him and said, "They're not designed to cover anything, Sir. They're designed to give the rabbit a way to carry a few supplies without having to constantly hold them."

There were several variations on three basic designs. One had a few leather straps that wrapped around the chest, with a few small leather pouches and some eyelets at the bottom so that small tools could be hung from them by pieces of string. The second was mostly a thick leather waist belt, again with several pockets and other attachments for holding tools that would hang down around the woman's hips. And the third style , was a smaller belt that hung lower, on the hips, with more leather straps that buckled around the upper thighs. More small pockets were located on the legs portions of this design.

Fanni opted for the sturdiest version of the third design; and when she asked the house slave where the tailor's office was, she was handed her a small printout with a map of the mansion. "Just follow everyone else," the slave said, "You can't miss it."

They found the shop without difficulty and there was already a line. Several of the hunters had taken the opportunity to find a chair or a window ledge, or some small, out of the way place where they could become more intimate with their rabbit while they waited.

"I think they have the right idea," Fanni's hunter said, nodding towards one rabbit who was happily bouncing up and down on her hunter's lap.

Fanni looked away without comment.

Not my job, she thought to herself, although she didn't say it out loud. But she figured that since he hadn't volunteered any favors she wasn't going to either. If he wanted her to do that, he was free to take her by force. She almost smiled as she watched him pouting out of the corner of her eye.

When they got back to the main hall, all the rabbits were given their own tracking devices. This was a small transmitter was imbedded into the flesh of their left hand using a small device that looked a little like one of those air-powered vaccine guns. The gun shot a small, blue bead into the little web of flesh between Fanni's thumb and pointing finger.

"This is only for emergency tracking purposes," the doctor kept saying over and over again. "Rest assured that tracking units will not be unfairly used by the administration to expose a rabbit to a hunter."

He said it so often that she decided not to believe it. Anything he feels he needs to repeat that often probably isn't true.

The rest of the morning they spent in classes: an hour on rudimentary first aid an hour and a half on basic camping skills: starting fires, pitching tents, digging latrines and even using tree leaves to wipe your ass. The topics ranged from the obvious to the subtle. Some of it (like the pitching tents) was clearly designed for the hunters, while other bits (like wiping your ass with the right type of tree leaf) seemed designed more for the rabbits. A lot of it was so basic that even Fanni already knew it, while other bits seemed so absurd she couldn't imagine anyone ever thinking she'd ever need to know it.

The most important thing Fanni learned was probably the list of plant leaves not to use as toilet paper, and how to cover up her droppings so it wouldn't smell. Fanni figured the less evidence she left behind the harder she'd be to find.

After that they had an hour for lunch. Like most of the others, Fanni's hunter didn't share his food with her-but he refused to let her leave his side and forced her to sit there and watch while he stuffed his face. Fortunately, he was a quick eater. It only took him ten minutes to finish and then he led her back to his bed room.

"What did we come here for," Fanni asked, although she was pretty sure she knew.

"I figured we'd find someplace private, since apparently neither of us is all that fond of having sex in public." He nodded towards the bed. "Get up there and spread your legs for me."

Despite her earlier defiance, Fanni didn't even consider resisting. Sergeant's warning about not 'pissing off your hunter' kept running through her mind. And it wasn't like she hadn't been sexually used by strangers during some of the bondage shoots she'd done. She preferred not to let her tops fuck her, at least not with their dicks, but those that wanted that tended to pay more. She drew the line at letting them stick body parts in her mouth, but she had been fucked (by strangers) on several occasions. And if she became a slave, it was a virtual certainty that she'd be fucked by a lot more, so this really wasn't that big a step for her. And despite being a bit of a prick at times, her hunter was not unattractive. So she slid back onto the bed as best she could with her arms pined to her side and let her legs fall open invitingly.

"You really are a hot piece of work," He said as be unbuckled his belt. "If I don't catch you myself, I might bid on you at the auction, if your hunter makes you available."

"After the million," Fanni said with a smile, "You wouldn't be a bad second choice."

He leaned down and guided his cock inside her-forcing it in slowly, even if he didn't do any foreplay. Well, unless you wanted to call chewing on her nipples foreplay. She was a little dry at first, but it wasn't any worse than the bondage videos had been. Her hunter was small, but he knew how to use his equipment. When he was all the way in, he would grind his pelvis against her pubic mound. And when he was halfway out he would sometimes rock forward so that his prick rubbed against her clit as he moved in and out. He liked to change tactics and varied his pace from time to time, pumping her hard and deep for a time; then using short, jerky strokes; then slow and long strokes that nearly pulled the head of his cock out of her with each stroke. Sometimes it was maddening, when he would change his pace just when she was beginning to build to a climax, but he made it last a long time and when he was finally done she felt well and thoroughly fucked.

She took a deep relaxing breath as he rolled off of her and lay without moving for a moment.

"So," Fanni said, looking over at him and smiling, "What's your name anyway?"

He gave her a sardonic smile and said, "Mark."

It didn't take him long to recover; and before they headed back for the rest of the day's classes he tied a little crotch rope around her waist. Then he attached a short leash to the front before leading her towards the door.

In the afternoon, they had a class that taught how to find food and avoid poisonous plants.

The instructor brought out a large tub filled with various insects and other crawly and slimy things. "Those of you who do not mind eating insects and grub will never fail to eat like kings on this island," he said, "Lift virtually any rock and you'll find a plentiful and nutritious meal. For those of you who are a little pickier about what you put in your mouths, you can still eat well. The trade off is that finding more palatable food requires a bit more work; and this extra effort will tend to leave you more exposed to being captured." He picked up a crawly handful of from the tub. "Anyone want to find out which ones you prefer?"

There weren't many takers, but Fanni was one of them.

The more I stayed hidden, she figured, the less likely I am to be caught.

If eating insects improved her chances of getting life back on track, then that's what she'd do.

The first half of the class focused primarily on finding things to eat, while the second half focused on those things that shouldn't be eaten. "There aren't many," the instructor noted, "But there are certain plants and animals that can be poisonous. Some things are edible, but only if you cook them right.

If you see something you're not familiar with, try eating just a little of it the first day. next day, eat a little more. The third day a little more. If you haven't gotten sick by the end of the third day you can assume that it's probably safe to eat, but continue to eat it sparingly for a while."

The next class was a very basic self-defense course that focused for the first half hour on defending one's self from the few smaller animals that could pose a danger on rare occasions. The second half was spent learning how to throw one's opponent, and various other defensive moves. This was focused almost entirely at the rabbits.

"At times when you are out in the wild," The instructor said, "You may come across another rabbit who wants the same thing you do. At those times, these rudimentary skills may come in handy. There is a pecking order in the wild. You will be free to determine that order amongst yourselves, as the need arises. But be forewarned, any rabbit who injures another will forfeit their right to win the million dollars; furthermore, any medical expenses that are incurred will be taken out of the $50,000 that you receive at the end of your year of service. So when you fight for dominance do it with some measure of care."

The next class covered basic hunting strategies for the men.

"There are several useful ways to go about finding your rabbits," The instructor said. "On the one hand, you can carry your camping supplies with you and set up a base of operation at any of the various sites designated for that purpose around the island-or, if you prefer, you can chose to return to the orientation center each night, and sleep in the motel-like accommodations available here. Each strategy has its own advantages and disadvantages, so you will have to decide for yourself which style you prefer. In addition, you will have to decide the manner in which you wish to hunt. Guns are not allowed. Even a tranquilizer gun runs too high a risk of poking out someone's eye or shooting another hunter by mistake. However, there are a number of other options that we will familiarize you with over the course of this week. Some of you may choose to set traps-those will be covered in grater detail later in the week.

"For now, I will simply say this: Do not attempt to set unapproved trap. This can lead to injury, which will cause you to be disqualified; and your tuition forfeit. Any rabbits you've captured will either be set free (or, if unable to continue for some reason) they will receive medical treatment and then be placed in a holding cell until the auction."

"You may also hunt individually or in groups. You can choose to track your prey, or you can try to locate their caches and lie in wait while they come to you. Another good strategy can be to find a place up high where you can use your binoculars to look for any movement; then move towards that point of interest. However, in my experience the most effective (and enjoyable) hunting technique is to use a hunting dog."

"What, you may ask, is a hunting dog?" The instructor turned to a slave who was standing by the door and waved for her to bring someone in. "This my hunter friends, is a highly trained hunting dog." He waved his arm towards the woman that the slave girl had just brought in.

Nearly her whole body was cover in black leather or cloth. Most of the outfit appeared to be made of fairly light-weight material. It was clearly designed to let her body move and breathe while still protecting her from things like rocks and low branches. Her hands were covered by leather gloves with no fingers or thumb; and her feet were covered by sleek running shoes, also black. The most ominous aspect of the outfit, however, was that her whole head was covered by a mask-like helmet with large goggles over both eyes and mysterious protrusions, about an inch in diameter and sticking out perpendicular from her head about four inches.

"There are two things that make a great hunting dog," the instructor said. "First, all hunting dogs wear this light-weight uniform to identify them and to protect them from nature's little scrapes and bruises. The most important part of the uniform, however, is the headgear, which includes interchangeable, high-powered telephoto lens capable of transmitting recordable information back to command headquarters here at the orientation center. They also contain infra-red and night-vision goggles, so they can spot a rabbit at night or when they are hiding nearby in the brush. Their ears are equipped with unidirectional microphones. This gives them slightly enhanced normal hearing, as well, but with the unidirectional mikes they can hear a twig breaking (or a rabbit breathing) 100 yards away. But the crowning jewel of this head gear is the special tracking sensor that begin to beep whenever a rabbit is anywhere within 500 yards. The beep changes pitch as the dog gets closer to a rabbit. While this does not pinpoint the quarry's exact location, surround sound technology is capable of indicating a general direction. Thus, with a single dog, you can ensure that once you've got the scent of a rabbit, they are very unlikely to get away.

"The second thing that makes a great hunting dog is superb conditioning. She trains by running the equivalent of a marathon each and every day; and, on even ground, all of the rentable hunting dogs are certified to run a minimum of five and a half miles in half an hour. That's five straight miles at a rate of less than five and a half minutes per mile. They will outrun you, hunters, if you let them. Fortunately, your dog will be wearing a loud bell that makes it easier to follow her; and she's trained to howl loudly from time to time. In addition, your 'dog tags' contain a second buttons-the red one, as you've already been informed, alerts the command center in case of an emergency. But the Green button can be attuned to the helmet of a specific hunting dog. All you have to do is hit that button, and it will send out a new signal that will call them back to you. This signal has a ten mile radius, but I don't recommend letting them get that far away. Keep in mind that our dogs are trained to tackle the rabbits, wrap their arms and legs around them and then howl until their hunter arrives. So don't be too quick to call your dog back-you may be releasing a rabbit that you've already captured.

"Also, your dog cannot speak," the instructor said as he pointed to the mouth hole. "Her helmet is especially designed with a brank system that allows her to close her mouth (so she doesn't become dehydrated) but effectively prevents her tongue from moving (which makes it virtually impossible to talk intelligibly). In addition to howling, she can make a few simple sounds to facilitate the most basic forms of communication, but your dog can't tell you where a rabbit is. In fact, they are trained not to use any human-like body language for that purpose either.

"Also gentlemen, keep in mind that while this mouth-hole may look inviting, the brank system will not be very comfortable if you try to stick a certain part of your anatomy inside her mouth. Your hunting dog also has openings in the leather between her legs. This allows her to relieve herself without your help-but these openings also allow easy accessed to certain parts of her anatomy that can be used for your sexual pleasure. There is nothing in your contract that prevents you from taking advantage of this fact. But I suggest that you do this very sparingly or preferably not at all. Keep in mind that these dogs are a highly trained animals and using them for such trivial recreational purposes can interfere with their training and efficiency. If you didn't bring a slave to take care of such personal needs, you can return to headquarters and take advantage of one of the captured rabbits, or if none of those are available, there are other slaves you can rent for the evening.

"Also, keep in mind also that your dogs are highly dependent on you for things like food and water. Keep them well watered and. And clean their bottoms regularly, particularly after they take a shit. If you do not, they WILL stink. More importantly, however, poor feminine hygiene can cause rashes and other serious problems that may interfere with their ability to run and track effectively. If you allow this to happen, you will be charged the normal daily rate for any time your dog spends in rehab. We will be covering proper hygiene methods later in this class. I suggest that if you plan to use one of our hunting dogs, you pay careful attention. Using your dog inappropriately, or not taking proper care of her can adversely affect her moral; and an uncooperative dog is not a very helpful dog. As they say, a dog is a man's best friend... so take care of her properly."

"Those who wish their own slaves to serve as dogs can have them equipped with hunting dog gear. Hunters, however, are not permitted (under any circumstances) to make use of infrared goggles or any of the other types of technology the dogs use. Do not try to cheat or you will be removed from the playing field and your tuition will be forfeit."

The classes went on like that-one endless topic after another-until evening when they finally broke for dinner. Fanni felt like she was starving and ate as much as they would let her, which was one heaping plate full of normal people food. Mark still didn't uncuff her, but this time he did feed her without complaint.

After the late dinner, the rest of the evening was free time. They could do whatever they wanted, within certain limits. Mark let Fanni wander around by her self for a while, while he went to the hunter's lounge to have a drink and hang out with the other hunters.

Some hunters took their rabbits to private dungeons for a session of fun and games, as the instructors called it. Others attended optional classes. There were instructors available to teach self defense, survival and a number of other topics-some of which (like a class on origami) Fanni thought were rather strange. Other's spent time in the library, or in the game room. Fanni couldn't do either very well since Mark still hadn't freed her hands.

Fanni walked around, looking at everything that was available, but she didn't find anything that sparked her interest enough to stop and participate. She did wander into the public bath rooms to relieve herself and take a shower. A slave girl was stationed along the wall to help bound rabbits with those things they couldn't manage by themselves. Fanni wasn't exactly crazy about having her ass wiped, but it was necessary; and she was very grateful for the help when it came to being soaped down and being dried with a towel.

At 9 O'clock, the intercom requested that all rabbits (who were not going to be spending the night in their Partner's room) report to the dormitory for lights out. Since Fanni didn't see Mark anywhere about, she figured it was best to assume that he didn't plan to let her sleep with him, so she made her way to the converted barn, where she'd spent the first night.

She slept reasonably well. More from exhaustion and habit than from being comfortable lying on the small cot with her arms tied.

In the morning, Sergeant woke the women, much as he had the first day; and he took them to breakfast again. The second day began pretty much like the first one, except that Mark was waiting to lead her to the table. He still didn't feed her. And afterwards there were more classes. Some were completely new topics and others were continuations or more advanced versions of the first day's lessons.

Fanni was learning so much that she knew there was no way she would ever remember everything but she hoped she'd remember enough to make a difference when the time came.

Other than basic learning, not much of note happened that day... except that Sergeant had everyone standing in a line to get a series of vaccine shots and then be examined by a doctor.

Fanni didn't see what started the incident, but apparently one of her fellow rabbits broke down and started crying.

"I don't like this," the rabbit wailed, "I want to go home."

"You lost that opportunity," Sergeant said, "When you signed on the dotted line."

"Please, I just want to leave."

"If you leave here now, the only place you'll be going is to the holding cell where you'll spend the next month waiting for the slave auction. I can assure you, the wait will not be pleasant as those men who wish a little entertainment will be free to start training you as a slave."

"Please, I can't."

Sergeant was standing close to her already, but now he pressed his face menacingly close to hers, as he so often did, and yelled, "Do you know the difference between a smart rabbit and a stupid cunt, Recruit?"

"No sir," the girl squeaked.

"Neither do I, now get back in line before I have you removed from duty."

Fanni thought the Sergeant might have to remove the girl physically, as he had threatened, but after looking around for a while-as if seeking some kind of help that didn't come-she shuffled her way back to the line, still sobbing.

"That was kind of harsh," Fanni muttered under her breath.

A man who was standing against the wall observing apparently over heard her. Casually, he stepped closer. "He may seem unnecessarily cruel," he said in a soft voice, "but he really is that girl's best friend right now. She'll need this training and discipline badly when she's deployed in the wild, trying to hide for the hunters."

"Who are you," Fanni asks.

"My name is Renaldo. I own this island."

"Oh!"

"Anything else you want to know," he asked with a playful smile.

"Yeah, did he pick up the military jargon from you or did you pick it up from him?"

"I think we kind of picked it up from each other over the years." He raised his eyebrows as if to ask, 'Is that all?'

Fanni was pretty sure she shouldn't make any more trouble, but one thing was still bothering her from that first night at the dance. She was pretty sure, by now, that the reality TV show wasn't a complete ruse. They were taking too much time teaching the hunters and rabbits things for it all to be just for show. But still she had to ask...

"Is the woman in the trophy case real?"

Renaldo didn't have to ask what she meant. He knew immediately, and his lips turned up in an amused little smirk, as if he was pleased that the question was still weighing on her mind.

"You'd better move along," he said, "You don't want to keep the others waiting."


3 - Releasing the rabbits

"This is the day, rabbits!"

The Sergeant was banging on his can again.

Fanni sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes for the first time in over a week. It was a small pleasure that she'd missed more than she would have expected. All the rabbits had been allowed to sleep with their hands free on the last day before their release. No more night checks to make sure her arms weren't turning red. No more sleeping on her back without being able to turn over.

It was the third night before Fanni even realized they did the night checks. She woke with a flashlight in her eye, because her body had gotten turned sideways-causing the cuffs to pull awkwardly against one of her arms. Her arm had fallen asleep, so the night watchman had released her while she rubbed her arm back to sensitivity. When it was obvious the feeling was going to return to her limb, he cuffed one wrist to the rail on the bed frame and let her spend the rest of the night relatively unfettered.

Fanni was a little surprised that Mark hadn't taken her to his bed for the night-not once during the whole week. He liked to fuck as many as two or three times a day on that bed but, like so many other hunters, he preferred not to share his twin-sized bed at night. The rabbit's beds were little more than cots, so to her the hunter's beds seemed large by comparison; but most of the hunters were probably used to sleeping in king-sized beds, so to them the beds must seem a little cramped. From what little gossip she had gathered, it seemed that most of the hunters who did have their rabbits sleep with them didn't actually need a lot of sleep.

The last night, however, all the rabbits were required to sleep on their cots in the make-shift dorm, so that they would have at least one night of quality, uninterrupted sleep-without fetters.

Fanni slipped into the outfit that she had chosen to wear. It looked like a pair of cowboy chaps, with a belt around her hips and two leather flaps that partially covered her legs. Each flap had straps that buckled around her legs to hold them in place, and a number of small leather pouches were located on the belt-kind of like Batman's utility belt.

Even though she'd almost gotten used to walking around without clothes on (and the fact that the chap-like uniform didn't really cover much) she still felt less exposed wearing it. It was a bit like a fan that you suddenly notice has been running all along when someone turns it off. She had learned to block out how naked and exposed she felt, until given the chance to put something on.

When all the rabbits who'd chosen the optional outfits were dressed, Sergeant lead them to the dinning hall without binding their arms as he had every other morning; and while they ate the hunters were nowhere in sight.

"Okay, rabbits," Sergeant said from the podium, "This is your last hour of instruction; and then you will be released onto the island and you will have to fend for yourselves. The contracts you signed give us the right to record your every action and-we've been doing just that from the moment you stepped of the boat on the first night and walked into our welcome party.

In addition to the cameras located here at the orientation center, there are also more than 4 million hidden cameras scattered around the island. They are part of the state-of-the-art video network that enables us to recreate what happens on this island so that we can make our show. You can be certain, however, that we will never let these cameras be used by a hunter to track you down, so please do not intentionally destroy them. Because we purchased so many of these micro-cameras, each one cost a little less than 2 dollars-but that still represents an investment of well over 8 million dollars. Now, we understand that some cameras may be destroyed accidentally, so you will not be penalized simply because you happen to damage one or two along the way, but excessive or intentional breaking will be meet with harsh punishment. It may cause you to forfeit your chance of winning the million dollar prize; and even if not captured, you may be placed in the auction and sold as a slave with an additional six months added to your contract. We're very serious about protecting our cameras, rabbits.

"Keep in mind that the cameras are actually your friends and have been put in place for your protection as much as for the necessities of filming the show. If you are injured and your tracking device isn't working properly, the cameras will help us identify this fact and locate you before you starve to death. The location of all rabbits is constantly monitored and we investigate, as unobtrusively as possible, any tracer that does not move for an extended period.

"One final word, rabbits. You are not considered officially captured until your hunter has returned you to the compound and we've locked you in one of the holding cells. So, if you are captured I would recommend that you do not immediately give up. More than one rabbit has eluded capture to be free another day. Also, be aware that while your slave contract does not officially begins until the day of the auction, the hunter's are permitted to treat you as full-fledged slaves from the moment you are captured. Even though you have not officially lost the contest yet, the hunter is free to do anything to you that falls within the limits of the slave contracts-and many like to take full advantage of this fact while they're still out in the field. Hopefully, you read the small print when you signed your contracts and you know the difference between the limitations during training week and the less restrictive limitations that will take affect once you become a slave. Now, if you will line up at the door, we will pass out your survival equipment. Then a taxi service will be available to drive you to the sector closest to your personal cache... Or wherever else you might wish to go on the island.

"I hope you all paid attention during your classes; and good luck."

Fanni made her way to the door and was given a pair of boots (in her size), two pairs of gloves and a small, pack with bio-degradable written on the side and an adjustable sling so she could carry it over her shoulder. It felt like it was made out of paper-like those heavy-duty shop towels she'd sometimes seen when she took her car in for repairs.

She opened the traveling pack and looked inside. In addition to the promised map, it contained several useful things, including a ham sandwich wrapped in plastic; a couple bottles of water; some insect repellant; suntan lotion; a small first-aid kit; a compass; a multi-purpose pocket knife, complete with a can opener and a spoon; a toothbrush and a small tube of toothpaste.

Walking towards the line of taxi's, Fanni examined her map to see where her private cache was and discovered that it was in sector-5, about two thirds of the way to the other side of the island or around 7 miles as the crow flies. If she followed one of the main roads, it would probably be closer to 15 or 20 miles because of all the twists and turns.

There were several taxi buses lined up and each one had a sector number written on the side, so she climbed into the sector-5 bus and waited. When all the rabbits had chosen the bus they wanted, the drivers headed out-each going their separate ways as they came to the different roads that lead to the various sectors. None of the rabbits spoke during the trip. It was as if they were all beginning to think of each other as fellow competitors now. There was a small camp ground with a parking area in the middle of sector-5, and Fanni's bus took all the rabbits with her to the middle of this lot.

"Does anyone wants to go somewhere else on the island," the bus driver asked as the rabbits were getting out. When no one said they did, he closed the doors and headed back to the orientation center.

For a moment, the group of rabbits stood around looking at each other or watching the bus disappear in the distance then, one-by-one, each girl headed off in their own direction.

Fanni wasn't really sure what to do.

She spent a few minutes checking out the campground. There were a few buildings that looked like lodges and another that looked like the Greeting Center at a rest stop, with vending machines and a few other rooms that were currently locked so that she had no way of knowing what was inside them.

Twenty-four hours (actually closer to twenty-three now) before the hunters would be coming after them. There ought to be something that was more useful than anything else that she should be doing during that time, but if there was she couldn't think of what it was.

She looked at her map again and headed for her own personal cache. It would be important to know where that was so she could find it easily when more discretion was important.

It took her nearly three hours to locate the cache-and by the time she found it she was very glad that she'd taken the time to do so. Her map gave the directions to her cache by starting at the camp ground's flag pole:

From the flag pole at the sector-5 camping ground, walk about four hundred and fifty paces due west, until you see the small dirt path up through the rocks. At the top of the rocks, follow the dirt path for about half a mile until you enter a large clearing in a valley; then walk about fifty paces due north, to the big oak tree that stands alone at the far side. Head west into the forest for exactly 135 paces, until you see the fallen log that crosses the stream; then turn south east and walk in the direction the log is pointing until you find your cache, as marked by the x on the map.

Fanni found the dirt path pretty easily, although (assuming she hadn't lost count somewhere) it was almost five hundred paces instead of 450. That was probably because whoever wrote these instructions had a longer stride than she did. Finding the oak tree wasn't all that hard either. The log in the forest was a little more challenging, but not that difficult either. The real challenge was finding the cache itself. It was designed to remain hidden from people who were looking for it. And I'm looking for it, Fanni thought as she traipsed back and forth across the area where she was certain it was supposed to be. When she finally did find it, she felt like a bit of a fool. There was a large cardboard sign pinned to the side of the tree with the words climb to the top on it. She'd been looking so hard for something hidden that she'd passed right by it at least twice.

Not wanting to leave any evidence behind, she folded up the cardboard sign, tucked it into one of her larger pockets and followed its instructions. The tree was rather large, but it had several low branches, so it was not a particularly challenging climb. As a Tom Boy, she had frequently climbed more challenging trees, although it was several years since she'd gotten any practice-still, she scaled to the top in short order and found a small platform made of wood. She thought it might be large enough to sleep on, if she really wanted, and when she climbed up to stand on it and test it out, she found a small safe that was imbedded in the trunk of the tree.

From the ground, with all the branches and leaves, there was no way anyone would see it, even if they were standing right below her-but she decided that it probably wouldn't be a good idea to stay in the tree any more than she had to. If a hunting dog cornered her while she was up this tree she'd be a sitting duck.

She turned the combination through the numbers she'd been given (they were her birthday, so they'd be easy to remember). Then she pulled open the door to look inside and take inventory. There were three or four cans of food that could be opened without a can opener; a canteen full of water, with a carrying strap; and a slightly larger container that was also full of water. This larger container had a spigot at the bottom and appeared to be removable, so she could pull it out and use her canteen to fill it from the top. There was also a metal trap for capturing small animals which had been filled with several cans of various types of ready-to-eat food; and a few tampons and other feminine hygiene products. In addition she found a comb, a sling shot, fishing line and hooks, and some netting. Presumably the netting was also for fishing, or maybe it could be used to hunt birds.

I could also use it for carrying things, Fanni thought.

And suddenly it occurred to her that there might be a lot of useful things in the other caches. With the netting, she would have a way to carry that stuff from the other caches to her own-and although it didn't have a whole lot of extra room, there was certainly enough to stuff in a few more things. And most importantly, she still had several hours before the hunters would be around to catch her at the public caches.

Fanni stuffed the cardboard and the paper-like back pack into her personal cache, keeping only the compass and a few other crucial things which she stuffed carefully into the leather pouches of her belt and chaps.

With the net in hand, Fanni climbed down the tree and studied her map to get her bearing then she headed towards the nearest public cache. She wasn't wearing her watch any more, but she could tell from the sun that it was getting close to noontime. That meant nearly half of the usable day was already gone and she wanted to get whatever things she could and be back atop her tree before night fell.

As she was following the map, trying to locate the first public cache, she couldn't help feeling a little guilty for what she intended to do-but surely, she reasoned, if she didn't do it someone else would. Perhaps some of the other women were naïve or altruistic enough that they wouldn't think of it, but someone certainly would. She might already be too late. So instead of heading back, she hurried even faster.

The public caches were much easier to find. Unlike the personal caches, which were so carefully hidden, the public caches were meant to be findable by the eyes of any hunter who looked closely enough-although they'd been advised not to loot these caches for their own personal needs. They could, however, find one then wait for the rabbits to show up.

No one was waiting when Fanni found the first cache and pulled it open. There was no lock, but the interior of the cache was considerably larger; and it held a lot of different kinds of things. The first thing that caught her eye was the many rolls of toilet paper. She hadn't been too keen on wiping her ass with green things. The next thing that caught her eye was the large amount of ready to eat food, some of it in small, serving size cans; some of it in dry food packs. Some of the food was stuffed inside metal cooking pots. Another pot was filled with sterno-cans which would be useful for heating the pots to cook the food. In addition, there were cloth hand-towels, cigarette lighters, shampoo and soap, deodorant, more tampons and other feminine hygiene products, a few regular forks and spoons, hair-ties and a few pairs of scissors, six novels (in various genres), one survival guide, three mechanical pencils and five pads of paper, several rolls of string (in different thicknesses), a couple of small sewing kits (with needles and thread), four water painting set in plastic cases (which could be used to paint her body with patterns that would help camouflage her), four small military shovels, several small bags full of salt packets, condiments and other spices, and last but not least three cans of bright orange spray paint.

The last item seemed a little odd at first, but the more she thought about it the more Fanni realized that they could indeed be very useful. For example, she could spray trees and other landmark items with arrows or other markings, to make it easier to find places she wanted to return to. Of course, it would probably be wise to come up with some system so that the arrows didn't actually have to point in the direction she was supposed to travel-but that ought to be easy enough to do.

The question now was what to take first.

That was easy. Fanni laid her netting out on the ground and then placed one of the pots filled with sterno cans in the center. Around this she carefully placed several rolls of toilet paper. Next, she unrolled a length of string and threaded it through the reinforced eyelets around the outermost part of the netting, so that when it was full she could cinch the string tight and form a neat little carrying case for all her loot. She stuffed the rest of the roll of string into one of her leather pouches; then she began loading up with shampoo, soap, deodorant, tampons, the packets of salt and condiments-all the luxury items that she figured others would be likely to take first.

When the netting was as full as she could get it, Fanni tied off the string and stuffed a few more things into the leather pouches in her belt. She found room for one of the sewing kits, one of the cigarette lighters, a pair of scissor, and a can of the orange spray paint. Then she grabbed the military shovel and swung the large satchel onto her back-feeling a bit like Santa Clause-and turned to head back for her own cache.

"Hey!" Someone yelled from the edge of the forest as Fanni was just about to start on her way. She looked over and saw a woman who looked to be about the same age she was running towards her. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Who are you?" Fanni asked, "The booty police."

The woman had caught up with her now and she stood blocking Fanni's way. "My name is Karen; and this is my cache, too!"

Karen was a little taller than she was, and a bit heavier built through the arms and legs. Not that she was fat or anything, but she definitely carried more weight and had a more athletic body.

Fanni recalled the Sergeant's warning about how the rabbits would have to find their own pecking order-and she thought it would probably be best not to tangle with this woman if she didn't absolutely have to.

"I was just seeing what was here," Fanni said

"No you weren't," Karen countered, "You were stealing all of this!"

"I can't very well steal what belongs in the public domain."

"Don't be cute?" Karen snarled, pushing her in the chest again.

Fanni took a step back and set the netting down. "I'm just saying, there's plenty of good stuff left." She held her hands up in a gesture of acceptance. "We don't have to fight about this."

"I think I'll be the judge of that," Karen said as she picked up the netting and carried it back to the public cache. She untied the bundle and looked through it then she looked into the cache seeing what was available there too.

"You were trying to take all the good stuff," Karen accused.

"You can take a few of my things if you want," Fanni said, walking up with the intention of giving one of the toilet roll packs as a piece offering.

Karen slapped the rolls out of her hand and pushed her back. "I'm taking all of it," she said as she began to tie up the bundle again.

"You can't have my netting," Fanni said decisively.

Everything else (with the possible exception of the shovel) was something that she could get more of once the girl left with her own booty, but only if she had the netting to carry the stuff in. Unlike the toilet paper, she was beginning to realize that the netting really wasn't a luxury at all. Without it, she would have no way to carry the food she had gathered during the day; and there were some things on this island that you simply couldn't eat without cooking them-in one of those smokeless fire pit they'd taught her to make, of course, so the smoke wouldn't give her away. The point was she didn't intend to give up her net with out a fight. If the girl insisted on taking it, she'd have to win it first.

The girl was ignoring Fanni now. She had taken out her own personal net and was filling it with more goodies that she obviously intended to take along with what was in Fanni's.

"I said you can't have it," Fanni said as she started to pick up her bundle again.

Before she realized it Karen leapt at her, throwing her to the ground. The air was forced out of Fanni as she landed on her back and Karen landed on her stomach-pinning her arms to the ground while Karen's crotch pressed tightly against her chin and Karen's feet tucked underneath Fanni's shoulders and arms so she would be harder to dislodge.

"I don't think you're taking anything," Karen said as she slapped Fanni's face hard several times. "I think you're going to scurry on back to your own little cache and be thankful I didn't go there and take everything in it too."

Fanni was beginning to get her breath back; she reached up and grabbed a handful of Karen's hair pulling her backwards as hard as she could. The force of her pull forced Karen to topple backwards, but because Karen's ass was sitting right on top of her chest it really didn't give Fanni a lot of leverage to sit up or roll over and it also pinned her arms between thigh and calf, making it difficult to do anything else besides hang on to Karen's hair.

"You fucking bitch," Karen screamed as she jammed her elbows down into Fanni's ribs.

The second time an elbow came down Fanni began to worry that her ribs would crack, forcing her out of the competition-and since Karen was the only one in any position to do any real damage, she let go and let the woman sit back up, with her body in almost the exact in same position it had been before.

"For that," Karen said, slapping with her fingers against the bridge of Fanni's nose-hard enough to make her eyes water just a bit, "I'm going to tie you up and leave you for one of the hunter's to find."

Then she leaned forward, pressing the lower fleshy part of her belly, just above the crotch, over Fanni's mouth and nose. Fanni could feel the woman's hands against the back of her head, forcing her face into the soft flesh. She tried to suck for air, but Karen's damp skin made a tight seal that she couldn't break. She bucked, desperately trying to throw the woman off, but with her heels tucked in place Fanni couldn't even manage to temporarily break the seal of flesh over her face. For a moment Fanni thought of trying to bite her, but her mouth was closed and when she opened it, it was her own lips that found their way between her teeth.

The last thing she remembered was a feeling of lightheadedness, thinking that she couldn't feel her legs moving, even though she was sure they must be frantically kicking.

Fanni woke with her face in the grass. Her ribs still hurt a little, but she could tell they weren't broken or cracked. Her wrists and ankles had been tied together with one of the thicker strings-thick enough to be called a thin rope. Apparently, Karen had been paying attention in the class on how to bind a rabbit without cutting off her circulation or allowing her to get undone when she struggled. In addition to her writs and ankles being bound securely, there was a short length of rope that connected Fanni's ankles to her wrists in a cruel hog-tie that forced her to arch her back. It didn't help that her elbows had also been tied together.

Not even the end of the first free day, Fanny thought, the hunters haven't even been released yet, and already I've been captured.

She pulled with her arms and pushed with her legs as hard as she could. It was no use. The ropes were tight. She rolled over on her side, craning her neck around; trying to see where the ends of the rope were so that she could see if there wasn't some way to get them untied. But she was tied to tightly; she couldn't see anything.

What now, Fanni thought as she took a deep breath.

It really didn't seem like there was anything to do-except lie here and wait for a hunter to come and collect her. That would be more than a dozen hours, even if a hunter came straight here as soon as they were free to wander around the island. A more likely scenario was that they would see her on one of the video feeds-or they would sense that she wasn't moving back at the orientation's command center, and then they would come looking for her.

How long would that take? A day? She was afraid that she could lie here like this for twenty-four to forty-eight hours before they even started looking for her. Maybe Karen would come back, after she'd hoarded all the things she wanted, and untie her.

She was just about to close her eyes set in for the long wait when she realized that there was something hard pressing against her hip. She was still wearing her belt with its leather pouches, but this seemed like something even larger than that; she could feel the other pockets, but they didn't feel as uncomfortable to her. That must mean there was still something in one of them. What had she stuffed into those pockets anyway? She tried to remember. There was the can of spray paint. She could feel that that was definitely gone. Then there was the small sewing kit. She couldn't tell if that was still there or not. What else? The scissors! They could have been very useful, but she was pretty sure that they were gone too. They'd hung down through one of the pockets with a hole in the bottom, and she hadn't felt them banging against her leg when she moved, as she had before.

That leaves the cigarette lighter.

Maybe she could use it to burn through the ropes. Trussed up as she was, however, the first problem would be getting to it. She tried to angle her legs over to one side so that her hands would have to follow then she figured maybe she could dig her fingers into the small pouch; but it was no use, the ropes kept her body taut.

So close and yet so far away, she thought as she relaxed her efforts for a while.

What she needed was a boulder (or something else) she could rest against to force her back into a sharper arch than the ropes currently did. She looked around and saw that there was a fallen log about twenty feet away. It was a long way to inch-worm her way all the way over there, but she didn't have any choice. There wasn't anything else that was any closer. So she started inching her way towards the fallen tree. At first it was slow going, but then she figured out that it was easier to roll, so she angled her self sideways and began to roll. It was still difficult going for a while. It wasn't that hard to roll over on her stomach, but forcing herself to roll over her bound arms and legs was more difficult. The first few attempts took a long time and gave her stomach muscles a workout. But after a few tries she realized that if she used the momentum of her downhill roll when she came off of her legs and bowed her body back and forth in just the right way, she could keep the roll going without nearly as much effort. It was like being on a swing and tucking her legs under or stretched them out to make herself go higher-depending on which way the swing was going. It was still hard work, and she had to stop and rest a couple of times before she could start going again, but it really didn't take her as long as she'd feared it might to reach the log.

Getting herself up on the log was a different matter; and if anything, it was even more difficult. The best strategy seemed to be to get as close to the log as she could, with her belly facing it; and then try to roll over so that he caught the log with her shoulder as it was coming down. Then perhaps she could lever her way up on to the log. It didn't work the first two times she tried, but on the third try she combined it with the strategy of building momentum off a roll; and with one last monumental effort she managed to wrench her body up and onto the log. The effort was so taxing that she just sat there recovering for a few moments with her bare breast resting against the tree's rough bark. One of her nipples was resting awkwardly in one of the barks deep crags, and it pinched her skin unpleasantly; but there was nothing to do about it until she'd regained enough strength to move again.

After a moment she tried to reach for the lighter, and found that she could now touch the leather pocket, but she still couldn't quite get her fingers inside. And that was when it occurred to her that she really needed to have her feet in the air-not pointing down-that would allow her to giggled the leather pouch so the lighter would fall out. She hated the idea of rolling back off the log after it had been so hard to get up onto it in the first place. What if I couldn't find a way to get back up using the feet first method? But it seemed like an even worse idea to scrape the whole length of her body across the log's prickly bark by inching her way across-and that was the only way to get her head pointing down without rolling off the log. So when she was fully rested, she breathed a deep sigh of resignation and rolled back off the log.

Fortunately, mounting the log feet first proved to be far less difficult than she had anticipated. In fact, it was much easier than it had been with her head up. All she had to do was get close to the log again, only this time with her knees closer than the rest of her body. Then, she forced her arms and feet to one side, so that she could bend her body a little more at the waist; this let her raise her legs so that she could flop them down onto the tree's bark, shins first. That was a little unpleasant, but she gritted her teeth against the pain. Then she forced her hands and feet back the other way, and it was easy to roll over. The leverage of her body almost forced her over by itself, with the log coming to rest just at the right place on her thighs. Now, with her face planted in the grass and her back forced into an uncomfortably tight arch, it was much easer to reach the leather pouch where the light was. She might even be able to reach inside and pull the thing out-if she tried hard enough; but she figured it would be easier to simply giggle the leather pocket and shake the thing out.

It worked, and after she'd rolled back off the log and spent a few minutes inch-worming her way into position, she was lying on her back with the lighter in her hand, waiting for the rope to burn as she held it under the line that connected her wrists to her ankles.

She hoped the rope didn't catch on fire and burn her. But if it did, she figured she could always roll around and put it out-because there wasn't any way that she was going to give up without at least trying her best to get free. If that meant she ended up getting burned a little then so be it.

Fortunately, the rope finally broke in two without bursting into flames.

She was still bound hand-and-foot, but at least now it was easier to move about and she could look down at her ankles to see how the ropes were tied; which made it easier to figure out how to manipulate the ropes to get them undone. The problem was getting her hands and feet back together, but she used the log again to force her back into an arch, then grabbed her legs again and rolled over so that the log helped to hold her legs to her thighs as she worked at the knots. It still took a while, but she finally managed to get her feet free. Then she walked back over to the public cache, found one of the scissors that was still there, and used it to cut her writs free.

Her elbows were still bound tightly together, so she was still a bit too helpless for her liking. It was possible that Karen, or some other rabbit, could find her at any minute and there was no telling what they might do with her. So Fanni craned her arms around as she riffled through the stash for things she could find to stuff into her leather pouches: She still had the sewing kit, but now she placed another in the same pocket. Then she took three more cigarette lighters since she was so pleased with how useful the first had proven. If nothing else, maybe she could use the extra things for barter at some later point. She took one of the mechanical pencils (primarily because they were so small) and two rolls of string... these were rather bulky and took up a lot of space, or she would have taken more, but at least she had one of the thinner rolls and one of the thicker ones-so she'd have something useful for different purposes. Finally she took another can of spray paint, which she stuck back in the same pouch as before. That was about all the room she had left in her pouches, but she tucked a pair of scissors under the belt-hoping that she wouldn't trip, fall and gouge her belly.

She took one of the military shoves, but instead of carrying it in her hands (which would have been a little more difficult while they were behind her back) she tied a loop of string around the handle then slipped it over her head by positioning the loop against the log and sticking her head through the middle. Before she did, she made sure she had a can of sterno in one hand and the survival guide in the other. Then she swung her neck through the loop and did a little dance to get the shovel from the front of her body around to the back so it wouldn't bang against her knees when she walked.

That was as much as she could figure out how to take.

She carried her loot over a hill and found a large boulder that would conceal her from anyone who approached from the direction of the public cache. Then she unloaded everything and set to work on the ropes at her elbows.

Fanni was still using the edge of the shovel's blade to saw against the elbow ropes when she noticed that Karen had returned.

Actually, Karen had announced herself when she saw the pilfered cache and exclaimed rather loudly, "You fucking bitch!"

Fanni looked up and smiled, but then she scrunched back down as Karen briefly looked around, as if searching for her.

Even thought the ropes were small, cutting them with the shovel had been slow and difficult work. First, the shovel's edge wasn't all that sharp, so it took a lot of sawing for very little cutting. Second, when she'd first started, the shovel kept falling over whenever she tried to put any pressure on it. The solution came when she noticed a small crack in the rock; it was just large enough to wedge the shovel into so it wouldn't keep falling over. Now-unless her arms slipped and scraped against her skin, which had already happened several times-Fanni could press down on the shovel as hard as she wanted. It was still slow going, but she could already feel the ropes getting looser.

The problem now was that she wanted to get them off before Karen managed to pack up and leave, because one way or another, she intended to follow Karen back to her private cache so she'd know where it was. Fanni wasn't sure yet just what she'd do with that knowledge, but she had already decided that, eventually, she would think of some way to avenge herself. The woman deserved the worst that Fanni could give her. So instead of continuing to saw at the ropes with the shovel, Fanni scrunched down and tried to catch the ropes on one of the crags in the rock so that she could forcibly pull them free from her arms. The ropes kept sliding over the rock; and she kept scraping her skin against its rough, stone surface-but as Karen finished packing everything up and began to walk away, Fanni's efforts became even more frantic.

Finally, shortly after Karen had disappeared over the distant hill, the ropes slide over her elbows and came free.

"Thank you, God," she breathed, more from habit than any conviction, as she quickly wiggled the rest of the way out of the loops of rope. Then she slipped the shovel over her shoulder, picked up her book and sterno can and took off after her quarry, running as fast as she could to the crest of the hill, where Karen had disappeared. She stood at the top, trying to locate the woman and after a few short moments (which seemed much longer) she spotted her walking through the trees, not too far away.

Fanni sprayed an orange K on a nearby boulder then etched the landmark nearest to Karen into her mind before making her way quickly towards it. She wanted to stay far enough back that Karen wouldn't be able to hear her, but neither did she want to get so far back that she lost her trail. Fortunately, Karen knew that the hunters weren't loose on the island yet and apparently she couldn't think of any other reason to keep herself hidden as she walked. That made it much easier to follow her, but Fanni still had to search for her, from time to time.

Every so often Fanny would mark a little orange K on a tree or a rock or a patch of grass. She didn't even both to point the arrow in the wrong direction. She hadn't had time to work out a clever subterfuge and she didn't want to waste time trying to do that now. So she followed, keeping her distance; running as hard as she could when Karen was separated from her by a hill or a copse of trees. Slowing down and waiting whenever she came a little too close for comfort.

After about half an hour Fanni lost her.

For a moment she thought about running ahead for a ways, but then it occurred to her that Karen could already be hidden away in her own private cache. If Fanni went running blindly forward, she could run right by Karen-or worse, alert the woman that Fanni had been following her. Despite her reluctance to sit quietly, Fanni decided the best plan was simply to find a place to sit and wait. Fanni was determined to find a way to make the woman pay for what she'd done. So she searched until she found a good hiding spot among some high rocks.

This will make a good lookout for the long wait, she thought.

Maybe it was time to work out that marking system for the orange paint.

Fanni checked the sun and figured it was late afternoon, maybe five or six already. It didn't get dark until after nine, so she estimated that she'd have at least three or four hours to get back to her cache, grab some food, and find her way back here before it grew dark. If she hurried, she might even be able to stop by the cache on her way and grab a few cans of food, if any of them were left.


4 - Here Come the hunters

Fanni woke with the sun in her eyes.

The hunters are headed this way, she thought as she stretched the stiffness from her limbs and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. She'd have to keep an eye out in both directions now. She cracked open a can of Vienna sausages for breakfast. It was the first thing she'd eaten since yesterday morning's breakfast at the orientation center and the little sticks of fat and meat tasted surprisingly good. When she was finished she looked around for other likely sources of food. She had to make the canned goods last as long as she could, if she was going to camp out here until she saw Karen again. She couldn't just sit around eating up all the easy food.

Fanni remembered the instructor's words, "Those of you who do not mind eating insects and grub will never fail to eat like kings." She'd forced herself to eat at least one of every kind that was available and they were all bad. But some were definitely worse than others. Grasshoppers, for instance, actually had a distinctive flavor that wasn't all that bad if you could get past the idea that you were crunching on an insect. They didn't really taste like chicken, as the instructor had joked, but she chuckled at the memory and thought, I could stand a little chicken for breakfast.

She spent the next hour walking through the tall grass in a nearby field. She should have waited until evening, when the crickets became more active. But she still found a few to munch on. Pulling off their legs (to reduce the crunch factor) she wrapped the crickets in several leaves of an edible weed before popping them in her mouth. She chewed quickly and swallowed it down with some water from the canteen she'd brought back from her visit to her private cache.

Most of her time was spent lying around and waiting. From time to time she forced herself to read the survival guide but it was pretty dry reading. What I wouldn't give for just one of those novels, she thought. Part of her realized that it was probably a good thing she didn't have one. It would be too easy to get wrapped up in the plot. She could just see herself sitting there reading a book as one of the hunting dog's wrapped their arms around her.

Occasionally she would get up and walk around. She did a few stretches and exercises too, in an effort to keep her body strong and limber-simple things like toe touches, deep knee bends, and sit-ups. She found a small rock and did arm curls; whatever she could think of to keep her body from getting drowsy from boredom.

This doesn't bode well, she though when evening came and she still hadn't seen any sign of Karen while her boredom was worse than ever.

The next day she began to range a little further-still moving carefully to make sure she remained hidden as much as possible but exploring the surrounding area. Mostly her forays took her east, in the direction away from where she believed Karen's lair was. She still didn't want to stumble unexpectedly upon the other woman.

Around noon, she went back to her personal cache for the small animal trap, and took an hour or two finding the perfect place for it. Not only did it need to sit in a place where small animals were likely to go, it also had to be hidden well enough that other hunters or rabbits wouldn't be as likely to see it, while still being a place that would be easy enough to find again. It wouldn't do her any good to catch something if she couldn't remember where the trap was.

The third day was about the same, although she roamed a little further west and spent a little more time looking for food. She checked the trap that she'd set on the first day, did a little fishing without much success. Perhaps tomorrow, she thought, I'll try tickling a fish out of the water, like the instructors showed us.

While she was near the water Fanni decided to take a bath and splashed a little of it under her arms and between her legs. Karen had taken all the soap and the hand towels, so she didn't have those, but the instructors had taught her to recognize a plant they'd called Horse Feather, whose flowers created a bit of foam when crushed and mixed with a little water. After that, she set a few new traps using a technique the instructors had taught her where you loop the string in a circle and use a small bush as the spring force to pull the loop tight around the animal's leg when it stepped on the trigger.

Towards evening, she noticed a set of tracks. At first she was worried that they might be a hunter's; then she worried that they might be her own-but when she thought about it she couldn't remember having passed this way. Whenever possible, she was very careful to walk where she wouldn't leave any tracks. These track, she noticed, were headed west.

Only then did it occur to her that the tracks were probably Karen's.

She began to follow them, moving even more carefully than normal: crouching lower, waiting and listening longer before moving to the next relatively safe spot. After about an hour her persistence paid off as she momentarily noticed a naked woman walking between two clumps of trees. Quickly, she climbed the nearest large tree and worked her way out onto the ends of one of the branches so that she could look down on the area where she'd seen that flash of naked skin.

After a few minutes of sitting still and watching she saw movement again. This time she was certain that it was Karen, and from her perch she could also see that Karen was about to enter the lair where her private cache was hidden. Unlike Fanni's cache, which was hidden by being up in a tree, Karen's cache was hidden under the ground. The instructors had assured the rabbits that those with underground caches could hide in them with relative safety since the ground reduced the range of a hunting dog's tracking sensors considerably-perhaps by as much as a factor of 10. A dog had to be very close to pick up the hidden lair with their sensors and then they still had to locate the thing-which wasn't all that easy, even when you knew the general location. The lairs were designed not to be seen and they were built very well.

Once again, Fanni began to search for a new location to set up her base camp but after a lot of looking, she finally decided that the best location would be another large tree not that far from the first one she'd climbed. There was a little bald spot, with no leaves, right where it needed to be so that she could keep an eye on Karen's lair. And there was a reasonably comfortable crook in the branches where she could lean back and relax. In fact, it was secure enough that she thought she could probably sleep up here if she wanted.

There was still useful daylight, however, so Fanny sets up a trip line around her camp. She used the thread from her sewing kit, so it would be harder to see and with the needle she strung hundreds of leaves from the nearby trees, evenly spaced so that they would be close enough to rattle if someone disturbed the string. She wasn't sure how well her jury-rigged alarm system would work. The leaves were still green, although she hoped they would dry out enough to rattle within a few days. Even if they did, however, she wasn't sure she'd hear them unless she was really listening. It might do more to give her away than to alert her to intruders nearby. Still, the activity gave her something to do, and that was a lot better than sitting around being bored.

As night fell, Fanni was very pleased with herself. From the day's hunting, she didn't have a lot more to show for her efforts than she'd had on the first day when she sat around and did nothing, but she hadn't been bored. And more importantly, she had finally found Karen and tracked her back to her lair-all without being seen.

The fourth day started out much the same as the others.

After foraging a bit for her breakfast (more insects and greens and some berries she found on a nearby bush) she took up her sentry position in the same tree where she'd slept the night, watching for Karen to come out of her hole.

Instead, Fanni saw her returning from her own breakfast gathering foray. It looked like she'd gathered some kind of fruit or nuts, which she added to a packet of tried food-probably rolled oats or some kind of breakfast cereal-then she added water and began to heat it all up in one of the pots with a sterno can. She'd apparently built up a small pile of rocks under a low hanging branch that she'd peeled of leaves and bark so that she could hang the pot from it more easily.

Karen didn't seem to understand the real advantages of having an underground cache. After her breakfast, to her credit, she did scatter the rocks around a bit so it wouldn't be so obvious, but then she simply pulled out one of the novels she'd taken from the public cache and began to read. It looked like she'd been reading a lot the past few days.

Very Dumb, Fanni thought, it's dumb to read all day; and dumb to camp so close to your own cache.

Fanni was proud of herself for being a little smarter than that. Not only was she spending most of her time away from her own lair, but she had found another rabbit to camp next to. The way she figured it that would cut her chance of being captured in half, because if a hunter came from the west, they would run into Karen before they came across her. She smiled and thought my chances of winning the million dollars just doubled.

Around noon Fanni woke, still sprawled across the branches of her tree. For some reason her heart was racing, so she listened carefully. There it was again! Her heart nearly stopped as she recognized the distinctive sound of a bell tinkling and a hunting dog howling. She wasn't too far away, and as luck would have it, she was coming from the east, not the west-so Karen was not between the dog and her.

It must have my scent, she thought as she quickly dropped to the ground. Dumb, Dumb! What was I thinking, falling asleep up in a tree where it's easier for the dogs to catch my scent.

Without thinking Fanni took off running.

She knew that she was already as good as captured, but she couldn't give up without a fight. The dogs might be superbly trained running machines, but Fanni had run cross country and track back in high school, and she'd more-or-less kept up with her running ever since. She didn't run every day and when she did run it wasn't the intensive marathon training that the dogs apparently received-she couldn't run even one mile in five and a half minutes-but she was determined to give the best run she could.

Scrambling down the hill side it seemed to her that she was making an inordinate amount of noise, but at this point she figured it probably didn't matter much. And then, quite suddenly and unexpectedly, she realized just what she had to do. As the instructors had explained, once the dog's tracking unit honed in on a rabbit's signal, other signals tended to be suppressed so that they wouldn't interfere with the tracking process. There was, however, some overlap. If another rabbit's signal was closer, it would supplant the first signal so that the hunting dogs would begin following the second signal instead. Her only chance of not being caught was to run straight towards Karen's camp, and hope that the woman was still reading her book.

Fanni immediately changed directions and ran harder, literally sprinting as fast as she could. She would still probably be caught but her chances seemed a lot better than they had just a moment ago and that gave her the energy to run even harder.

Between Fanni's outlook tree and Karen's lair, the hill sloped down sharply. Then there was a smaller hill that rose back up for a few steps before sweeping back into the pit of the valley where Karen's actual lair was.

Fanni had just started up the second, smaller hill when she heard the dog's behind her again. She looked back and saw that they had just crested the hill at a point slightly lower (and to the north) of where her tree stood. There were two dogs and two hunters; and she could see one of them pointing at her. She thought she could almost hear him shouting, "There she is! Let the dogs go after her."

Fanni turned back around and lunged down the last hill, just as the hunters were reaching forward to release their dogs from the chains that restrained them.

She looked around desperately for Karen, but she couldn't find her anywhere. Maybe she'd already heard the dogs and taken refuge in her lair. Maybe she'd gone out foraging for food while Fanni was busy sleeping in her tree. But wherever she was, Fanni was pretty sure she was gone. There wasn't even time to hunt for her lair. Long before she could find it the dogs would have crested the last hill. There was no way she would have time to figure out how to get it open and then close it again before they could see her doing it. Fanni could either keep running or gamble that Karen was underground-if so, opening her lair would give them both away. Even if Karen wasn't there right now, her location would be compromised; the hunters could simply wait in hiding until she returned.

With that decision settled, Fanni veered away from the more gently sloping hillside to the south of Karen's lair and instead headed straight towards it, even though it was butted up against a much steeper hill side that was strewn with rocks that would almost certainly make it impossible to climb fast enough to be over the hill before the dogs would see her as they crested the hill behind her.

Fanni was still running full speed, but she was just about to slowing down so that she could start looking more carefully-when suddenly Karen stood up and looked at her. Under other circumstances the look of confusion and surprise on Karen's face might have been comical, but Fanni was in too much of a frenzy right now to give it much thought. She put on the brake as fast as she could and still barely had time not to run into the other woman. As she looked down for some place to put her hands as she was about to run into Karen, Fanni noticed two things. First, Karen had apparently been crouching next to some bushes as she worked on one of those metal traps for small animals; and second, she noticed her net hanging from Karen's waist-belt.

Without stopping to think, Fanni grabbed the net and pulled it free, while at the same time giving Karen a hard shove-like punch right in the solar plexus. Apparently she'd hit her mark for Karen gasped for air as she began to stumble backwards into a small thicket of brush.

I didn't miss everything in those self-defense classes, Fanni thought as she ran towards the steeper and rockier part of the hillside. At this point, it would take longer to run over to the part of the hill that would have been easier to navigate, so she would have to take her chances with the steeper climb.

She hadn't gotten very far when her foot slipped on some loose scree and her legs went out from under her. She fell hard on her hand, scraping them badly, but she was next to a fairly large rock, so instead of jumping right back up she looked over her shoulder to see what was happening back down in the valley.

The dogs yelped just as they crested the smaller hill and spotted Karen who was still trying to extricate herself from the brambles.

Fanni shrank back down and slowly crept behind the boulder next to her so it would be harder for the dogs to spot her. She'd just have to take her chances that they hadn't already seen her, for excessive movement would certainly draw their attention. In fact, it was rather fortunate that she'd fallen so close to a boulder. During the day, with the sun beating down on it, the rock was likely to be almost as warm as she was-it might throw off the dog's infra-red tracking sensors. She just hoped she was far enough away that they wouldn't be able to hear her breathing with their overly sensitive, unidirectional ears. She lay down where she could keep an eye on them without being exposed and tried desperately to breathe as deeply as she could without making any more noise than she had too. She'd been running hard for several minutes, so it was hard not to make more noise than she should.

By now, one of the dogs had tackled Karen to the ground and was holding her there with her arms and legs wrapped around Karen. The other dog was prowling around the small clearing as if she suspected that Fanni was nearby. Karen tried to struggle, but the dog's grip around her arms was tight and she couldn't get any leverage to swing her elbows like she had against Fanni.

Soon, one of the hunters had caught up.

"Come on, Suzy! We caught one," he yelled as he called off the dog and knelt with his knee in the middle of Karen's back. "Come over here with that video camera. I want to be sure you record our first capture for the TV show."

"And it's only the fourth day," Suzy beamed proudly from behind the camera. "I told you that we'd work well together as a team."

The male hunter was already tying Karen's arms behind her back, and when he was done he turned around and sat back down on her legs.

This let Karen pick her face up out of the dirt. She spit a few times then she craned her neck around. "You bitch," she screamed, and Fanni knew that she was calling out to her, not talking to the Huntress.

Surely they would realize it too.

"Now, now," Suzy said with a smile, as she brushed her brown, shoulder length hair out of her eyes. "Is that any way to talk to your new owners?" She kicked Karen in the ribs. "Gag this slut, James. Then let's go and teach her some manners before we turn her in."

James had finished with Karen's feet and he was turning around with a gag in his hand just as she had regained her breath enough to say something more-but as she opened her mouth, James used the opportunity to cram the gag inside.

Fanni couldn't help breathing a sigh of relief. She had been certain Karen would give her away. Still, she wasn't entirely out of danger yet. Now that their rabbit was safely in the hands of their hunters, the dogs were snuffling around the edges of the clearing. Fanni couldn't hear them sniffing, but it was uncanny how much they moved like dogs, cocking their heads this way and that. Whenever they turned those ears towards her, Fanni held her breath so the unidirectional microphones wouldn't pick her up. She hoped they weren't sensitive enough to pick up the actual thumping of her heart-because to her it sounded nearly deafening.

"So," James said with a pleased grin, "is this one mine or do I get the next one,"

"Let's wait and see what we've got when everything is said and done," Suzy said, returning his grin. "Then we can divvy up our spoils."

The dogs were still nosing around the clearing, and they seemed to be edging closer to where Fanni was. If they got too close, her signal would begin to override Karen's and they would know she was hiding behind the rocks. And yet she didn't dare look up over the boulder now that they were getting so close. In a few seconds it would be all over; she would be discovered.

"Come here, bitch," Suzy called to the dogs.

When Fanni heard them heeding their master's command she looked up and saw that James had pulled Karen to her feet and was pushing her back the way he'd came.


5 - inherited Wealth

After the hunters were gone, Fanni stayed in her hiding place for a long time before she finally worked up the nerve to come out. But finally, even her heart had stopped beating so fast, and she realized that by now she was just being foolish. They weren't hiding, just of the hill, waiting for her to expose herself. Still, she couldn't help moving very carefully as she came back down the hill.

Even knowing where the hidden lair was it still took Fanni more than an hour to find it, so she was glad Karen hadn't been hiding inside it or she would have been the one being led away in shackles. She finally found it by scratching around it the dirt. Around a small thicket of brush-perhaps even the same thicket that Fanni had pushed Karen into-there was a hard piece of material that felt like plastic. Now that she was looking at it closely, she could tell that it wasn't loose dirt, but it was mostly covered by the spreading branches of the vegetation, so it was hard to see and hard to get to; but she pushed into the twigs and found a small lever-like button that she pushed. There was a small click and the bush began to rise up. Beneath it there were some concrete steps leading down into a hole. Fanni descended the steps slowly, looking around for some kind of release mechanism to close the hatch-or, more importantly, to open it again once it was closed.

It was much easier to find the closing mechanism than she'd feared because it looked just like a light switch. When she flipped the switch it immediately snapped back, with a click, to its original position-but a light came on and the hatch automatically began to close. It was easy to see why Karen hadn't wanted to stay inside very much. There wasn't a lot of room, especially with all of the extra goodies she'd stuffed around the safe. It looked like Karen had literally taken everything-not just from the public cache where they'd meet, but from some of the others as well. Fanni thought it was a good idea to use the lair for storage, as well as the safe, but now she had to move several things just to get to the safe's dial. There was no way she'd be able to lie down and sleep in here. Either she'd have to remove some things, or she'd have to sleep somewhere else. Although, now that she looked more closely some of the toilet paper rolls appeared to be crushed, as if someone had lain them out on the floor, using them as a mattress.

Not a bad idea, she thought. In fact, these rolls might have even greater value as padding than they did for their intended purpose. So far, one of the worst things about this whole adventure had been waking up stiff in the mornings from sleeping all night on the hard ground. To test her idea, she laid the rolls out then lay down on them. It still wasn't possible to stretch out completely, but this was by far the most comfortable bed she'd lain on since leaving the orientation center. The tree limbs, because they gave her the opportunity to stretch out, were a not too distant second, but here she didn't have to worry about falling out of the tree either. It might get old not being able to straighten her legs out completely, but for the moment it was so soft and comfortable it made her want to sleep.

Fanni didn't know how long she'd sleep, but she woke and looked up at the light which was still on. Then she sat up and looked over at the dial that separated her from the inside of Karen's cache. It was silly but while sleeping she'd had a pleasant dream of opening the cache and discovering all sorts of wonderful things inside. Like her, Karen probably would have kept all the best stuff locked away.

I wonder if it would be possible?

Fanni did a little figuring. There were 60 possible choices for each of the three numbers. 6x6 was 36; add the two zeros and that made 3,600. Then 36x6 would be? She couldn't quite do the math, but she knew it wouldn't be all that much. 4x6 was 24; add four zeros and that would only be 240,000. So 36x6 would be a few thousand less than that.

But if Karen's combination was her birthday-the way Fanni's had been, then the possible choices for the first number would be reduced from 60 choices to only 12. Similarly, since there were at most 31 days in a month, she could cut the possible choices for the second number nearly in half. And, by guessing karen's age, she could narrow the last number down considerably as well-particularly if she began with the most likely years and worked her way out. Feeling a little excited now, Fanni rummaged through the stuff around her until she found one of those note pads, then she took the mechanical pencil that was still in one of her leather pouches, and did a little math. 12x31 was only 372. Since some month had less than 31 days, she'd have to try less than 370 different combinations to exhaust a single year.

That was a lot of attempts and after all that, there would still be a pretty good chance that she might have messed up (without realizing it) on the one attempt that mattered. So she could go though all those numbers and still not be able to open the cache. But on the other hand, if she was going to be spending a lot of time in this lair, she'd have a lot of spare time with not much else to do. It couldn't hurt to at least try. If she worked systematically, she could keep track of the numbers she'd already tried, marking them down on her note pad. It was a pretty safe bet that Karen was somewhere between eighteen and thirty eight. That gave Fanni a twenty year window. She also figured that the younger years were a little more likely, given her face and figure, so if she started by assuming that Karen was 25, the same age that she was, then the year of her birthday would be represented by the number 18-for the year 2018-the same as in Fanni's combination. Once she had exhausted that year, she could move to 19, then 17, then 20, then 16 and so on, working her way outward from that most likely age.

With this plan in mind she set to work, spinning the first combination.

When she woke, Fanni felt better rested than she had been in days, but her mouth was a little dry. Up till now, it had been relatively easy to drink plenty of water. All she had to do was find the nearest stream and cup it to her face in her hand. But she hadn't had a single drink since entering Karen's lair-and she had no real idea how long that had been.

That was one unforeseen problem with the idea of staying underground all the time. Without being able to count the days, she wouldn't know how long it had been. She could wait out on this island for two months instead of just the required one. Renaldo would probably think she was dead. And her loan shark would be looking for her to get his money. She wasn't sure how she'd deal with the temporal problem, but decided to deal with it later. For the moment she found a packet of oatmeal, added some water, lit a sterno can and made herself breakfast.

Fanny glanced down at the note pad and saw that the last combination she'd made a notation for was 7-31-18, which meant that she was already more than halfway through the first year. She thought she remembered getting at least part way through august before nodding off, but she wasn't willing to risk accidentally skip the number, so she decided to redo any numbers that weren't actually written down.

After her breakfast, she popped the lock and took a peak outside; and she was not too surprised to find that it was night time. The sky was filled with stars, as bright and beautiful as she'd ever seen them. This would be the perfect time to take some of the stuff here back to my own cache, Fanni thought. Having slept all day, she wasn't tired, and despite being nighttime there was still enough light to see reasonably well. She didn't think it would be too dangerous to travel, even over rough ground. In addition, although the instructors had suggested that the hunters might want to hunt at night-in order to catch those rabbits that developed a nocturnal sleeping pattern-she didn't think all that many would take the advice. Even if they did, it would be harder to see her, unless they had a hunting dog, and in that case it wouldn't matter much if it were daytime or night. That thought of being chased at night was a little unsettling, but she was going stir crazy cooped up inside this small space. There was something about the cover of darkness that felt strangely comforting. So she loaded up her netting with as many extra items as she could find headed out.

It would be good to have duplicates of things at both locations, in case one of them was compromised, and it would give her more room to stretch out. There wasn't much left at her personal cache, but there might be a few things she could bring back here as well. Once she had her things evenly divided between both locations she'd be able to go to the closest one whenever she needed something. Despite the advantages of staying underground, the dogs could still sense her if they got close enough, so any hunter who entered this little valley would know she was here. It was dumb to stay underground for so long, she thought. She'd said it was dumb when Karen did it, so why hadn't she listened to her own advice?

Maybe she'd thought she could stay inside 24/7, just waiting it out until the contest was over. Without knowing where to look, she didn't think a hunter could find the secret hatch, even if their dog did catch her scent, so she'd be reasonably safe as long as she never came out. Unfortunately, she didn't have enough supplies to last the entire month; and even if she did, she'd be fat and plumb crazy before it was over.

There was so much stuff, that she could have loaded up the second netting with a few things as well, but for some reason she thought it would be better not to be out with two full nets-just in case something bad happened. So, with everything ready, she closed the hatch, slung the bundled net over her shoulder and headed out.

She hadn't gotten very far, no more than a few dozen paces, before a rope with heavy (but padded) weights at the end wrapped around her legs. As the rope began to wrap, the weights pulled her legs together and she stumbled, falling hard to the ground.

"Damn it," she cursed, as she turned over and tried to untangle the ropes so that she could run.

Before she had any luck a hunter was standing over her. She couldn't see his face clearly in the dim light, but she could feel him grinning. "I knew you were hiding here, somewhere," he said, with a self-satisfied grin; then his eyes focused on her. "You going to be a good rabbit, or do I have to man handle you? You're getting tied up either way."

Fanni sighed in resignation. "I'll be good," she said, holding up her hands with wrists together.

Instead of tying them together he grabbed her hand in his and pulled her to her feet. Then he squatted down so that his shoulder was level with her belly button, wrapped his arms around her legs and picked her up. He snagged her netting bundle as he stood and began to carry them both.

I could have walked, Fanni thought, as the hunter's shoulder dug a bit uncomfortably into her stomach. They hadn't gone very far, maybe a hundred yards, when the hunter set her down on the tailgate of a pickup.

"Slide yourself on up in there," he said, nodding towards the head of the truck. Fanni scooted back as he tossed the netting bundle onto the bed beside her. Then he walked around to the side, placed a handcuff around one wrist, looped the chain around the metal railing along the headboard, and snapped the second cuff around her other wrist. "That should hold you until we get back to camp," he said. "Now, let's take a look at what you've got in the bag."

He climbed up in the bed of the truck and squatted down beside her as he untied the netting and began looking through it. "Well, well," he said, looking down at her, "for a rabbit, this is quite the bundle of booty you've got here." He pinched one of her nipples. "Looks like you aren't the only booty I've suddenly inherited," he said with a smile.


6 - Hanging Around

The hunter's truck was a bumpy ride. Apparently it was a 4x4, and Fanni had to hang onto the metal rail for dear life so the cuffs didn't yank her hands off. There was a large chest on wheels beside her, and it kept bouncing around too. At first the ground was so rough that she worried the chest would topple over or slide into her when he made a turn too fast. Fortunately that never happened. He drove for several minutes, and after a while he finally found a paved road that made the trip a little smoother.

She was fairly sure they traveled for more than half an hour after they reached the paved roads and Fanni knew her directions well enough that, long before they reached the hunter's base camp, she knew he wasn't taking her back to the orientation center. He'd pitched a tent in the middle of a small clearing surrounded by a number of trees. There was a picnic table and a small fire place with a built-in grill, so the site was obviously intended for public camping. It wouldn't have been on her map because (as she'd noticed) none of the camping sites or other amenities for the hunters were; just as none of the rabbit's personal caches were on the hunter's maps-or so she'd been told.

The hunter didn't dally. Once he'd parked the truck, he uncuffed her from the rail then unwrapped the bolas from around her legs and had her remove everything: the boots, gloves, leather chaps-everything-before recuffing her hands behind her back. Next, he led her over to a small cluster of trees not far from his truck.

"It's not like you'd get very far if you tried to run," the hunter said, "so if you promise to stay put while I go get my stuff, I won't cuff you with your arms around that pine tree."

Fanni looked at the pine tree in question. It was fairly small, but still large enough that putting her arms around it would force her body into the branches, thick with needles. That didn't seem like much fun. "Where am I going to go with my arms behind my back," she said.

He cocked his head to the side and raised an eyebrow, with an expression that seemed to ask, so, are you going to promise or not?

"I won't run; I promise."

It would be stupid to run, she thought. If this man is going to be my master for the next year, running now would only piss him off. That would probably make things much more difficult down the road. So she stood where she was, waiting while he pulled the chest from the back of the truck and wheeled it over to her.

"What are you going to do now?"

He looked at her like she was stupid. "I'm going to tie you up so I can get some sleep," he said.

It was impossible to sleep.

Fanni was literally hanging from the trees by leather and rope. Most of her weight was supported by a leather strap that looped around her waist then ran between her legs and up to a metal ring suspended from a sturdy branch by a length of plastic covered metal cable. Her arms had been pulled behind her back and stuffed into a soft-leather sleeve. Although the sleeve wasn't held in place by straps over the shoulder, it was held just as firmly in pace by two short lengths of rope. One connected a D-ring at the elbows to the same O-ring her crotch leather was attached to; and the second rope attached the end of the sleeve, near her fingertips, to the same O-ring. The rope from her elbows pulled her upper arms back high, but with nothing to support her forearms they dropped down considerably, pulling her fingers back in an uncomfortable arch. Then, to keep her from simply leaning forward and sliding out of the arm sleeve, another rope connected the O-ring to a heavily riveted head harness that included a pump-style gag which the hunter had pumped rather full. She could feel the air sack pressing against the back of her throat; and the way the rope pulled her head back, it caused the collar around her throat to constrict. This probably would have made breathing through her mouth difficult anyway, even if it hadn't been pumped full. But it was still easy enough to breath through her nose.

Good thing I don't have a cold, she thought.

A final rope connected the O-ring to a tree, so the extra weight of her upper body (as it leaned forward) wouldn't cause the whole arrangement to become unbalanced towards the front. The final touch was a spreader bar between her knees and two leather sleeves around her angles, which kept her legs spread in an inverted V-shape. The ankle sleeves were relatively loose, but they kept undue pressure off her knee joints as she hung suspended through the long night.

Still, the position was far from comfortable, and by morning her whole body seemed to ache. The part of the leather crotch-belt that looped around her back was pulling down, forcing her to arch her back, while the arm sleeve pulled her arms up and back towards her ass, forcing her to arch her back even more while putting pressure on the shoulder joints. The worst thing, however, was how difficult it was to move around. She couldn't keep her body parts loose by putting them through a full range of motion, which made the odd angles all the more uncomfortable as time passed.

The hunter checked on her in the middle of the night to make sure that nothing was turning blue, but when he saw that her limbs were okay he went right back to bed. In the morning, he checked on her again. This time he lowered the cable that was looped over the tree branch, just enough so that she could support her weight on her feet instead of on her arms and the leather strap between her legs. The leather sleeves around her ankles were loose enough to let her move up and down without catching and pulling her legs out at an awkward angle. Then he removed her gag and gave her as much water as she could stand. After that, he relieved himself in the bushes then (without washing his hands) he set about fixing some breakfast.

She stretched her muscles, rolled her shoulders and moving her body around as much as she could while he built a fire and fried up some sausage and eggs. When they were done, he quickly toasted a couple of muffin then divvied out the sausage and eggs into three little piles, laying a slices of cheese over each pile so it would to melt.

When the cheese was melted, he placed each melted pile on a muffin. After the hunter had eaten two of the muffins, he feed the third one to her by hand. Fanni chewed as quickly as she could even though it burned her mouth a little, afraid that he wouldn't have the patience not to eat part of the last muffin himself. When she was finished he gave her more water then replaced the gag and hoisted her back up into the air.

"That should keep you until I get back," he said as he slapped her hard on the thigh.

She flinched under the sudden pain, and he giggled a little. "I like the way you move like that," he said approvingly. He slapped her ass a few more times; and savagely pinched her nipples.

It was embarrassing, but Fanni couldn't help squirming and moaning.

He kept slapping her for several moments before stopping and nodding with satisfaction. "When I get back," he said, "I'll have to give you a really good workout before I turn you in. But for now I have some things I need to take care of." He slapped her one more time for good measure. "Don't worry," he said in parting, "I should be back by this afternoon sometime, so we'll have you back at the mansion with something in your belly before this evening is over."

Each hour, it seemed, Fanni's position became even more unbearable. By mid-morning she was sweating from the strain of enduring it.

So when she heard the vehicle pulling into the parking lot behind her, she was eager to see her hunter again, in the hopes that he would show mercy and let her down-even if only for a short while. She wouldn't even mind that whipping he had promised, if he would just let her down first.

She could hear him walking up behind her. Then he placed his hand on her ass and slid his fingers down along the crack between her legs. The leather straps between her legs didn't join together until after they passed between her legs. This kept most of her weight on her legs instead of on her pubic mound. It made hanging around a little less unpleasant than it would have been if all her weight had been pressing down on her private parts-but it also kept her open and exposed to probing fingers.

What really caught her by surprise, however, was when a stranger's voice said, ""Well, well, what do we have here?"

Fanni moaned and tried to crane her neck around to get a look at which one of the hunters was caressing her. She'd spoken and even danced with most of them at the party, so she had at least some sense of their personalities; and there were some that she would definitely rather be accosted by than others. The hunter who had captured her was unfortunately not one of the good ones. This hunter seemed to sense her need, and decided to walk around where it would be easier for them to look at one another. "

Ooh, that looks rather uncomfortable," he said, caressing one of her breasts. Unlike the other hunter's touch, his fingers were intended to create pleasure rather than pain. "How long have you been tied up like that?" He asked.

"A real long time," Fanni mumbled loudly into her gag, while at the same time shaking her head as wildly as she could within the confines of her restraints. Unfortunately, her words sounded more like, 'Ma Meah monhg mimh.' She did her best to plead for release with her eyes, but the hunter seemed to find her efforts amusing.

"Please take off the gag," she tried again, as she looked down to indicate (the best way she could) the leather plate that was attached to the gag in her mouth. She had little hope that he would understand her; because once again what she'd said sounded more like 'Klueh thk ohph uh ghah.'

Apparently he got the message anyway. "Sorry sweetie," he said, "But I don't think that would be a very neighborly thing to do.

"I really need to tell you something," she mumbled.

"It's no use, I can't understand you."

"So take off my gag," she mumbled, while again gesturing to the gag as emphatically as she could.

The hunter pursed his lips and rolled his eyes, thinking for a moment; then he sighed. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt to take it off, just for a little while."

"Ahh," Fanni groaned as he began to pop open the snaps. A few seconds later the gag was out and she was furiously working her jaw around to loosen things up."

"So? What was so important that you just had to tell me?"

"My arms are killing me," Fanni said. "Could you let me down for just a bit?"

"Sorry. Removing your gag is about as much interfering as I intend to do. But it really is too bad you were caught by someone else. I was hoping I might be the one who snagged you. After our little dance that first night, I kind of took a shine to you. I would have loved to have you in my control for a whole year."

Fanni thought about it. "Maybe you still can," she said.

"And maybe you don't know the rule: No stealing slaves that have already been captured. Any hunter who pilfers from another hunter and passes a girl off as his own will be fined and summarily disqualified from participating in all future auctions. Trust me sweetness, there are cameras recording us right now-and I'm not loosing my chance to attend these auctions. Not even for you."

"Oh," Fanni said, deflating a little.

"There's still a chance," he said. "Maybe your new owner will put you up for sale. You can be certain I'll bid on you if he does."

He was about to put the gag back in her mouth; his arms were already on their way with it.

"Wait," Fanni said in desperation. "There's a rule against taking a captured rabbit, but what about simply setting one of us free?"

"I don't think they'd see much of a distinction."

"Why not," she insisted in desperation. "How many times did Sergeant or one of the other instructors stress the fact that they follow the letter of the law? No more, no less. 'Read the rules, gentlemen. I enforce the letter of the law.' Isn't that what he said? I mean that's basically an invitation to do anything that isn't actually in the rules."

"Humm!"

The hunter rubbed his chin, obviously intrigued by the possibility. Then he pulled a small booklet from one of those long pockets in the side of his pants leg. He flipped through a few pages and began to read. "Huh!" He said again, after a few moments. "You may actually be right." He looked at her and frowned. "I'm still not going to let you go, however. I'm not going to risk being banned. I've been coming to this thing every year since it began and I intend to keep doing that."

Damn! So close, she thought.

Again his arms began to rise with the gag.

"Maybe you wouldn't actually have to let me go," she said. "Maybe you could just loosen something enough that I could wiggle out of this thing myself?"

Again the hunter paused. "Which one would that be," he asked, more out of amusement at her persistence than any belief that her plan would work.

Fanni thought about it for a moment. If her head was free, maybe she could lean forward enough to pull her arms out of the leather sleeve. Without shoulder straps to hold it in place there were only two things keeping her arms securely inside. The first was the fact that she couldn't lean forward and the second was the friction created because the way her arms were bent pinched up the leather material enough to hold it tighter against her skin. But if her head was free, so that she could lean forward and pull?

"You can put the gag back in, if you want to," she said. "Just loosen the knot that's holding my head back at an angle. If anyone accuses you of something, you can say that I was complaining of a severe pain in my neck. Being kinked up like this for so long really is rather hard on the spine-so honestly, it's not that far from the truth. Then the rest will be up to me. If I can manage to get loose and get away before my hunter gets back then you get another chance at me. And you have a very plausible alibi; which I swear on my life I'll corroborate. Please. That's all you have to do."

The hunter stuffed the gag back in her mouth without answering and turned to walk away.

Then he paused, apparently thinking about what she'd said. After a moment he frowned, but he came back and loosened the rope to her neck considerably before retying it.

"I'm not going to untie your head completely," he said, "But I've given you more slack. The knot is as close to the end as I can make it without it coming loose; and I haven't pulled the knot tight either. If you keep pulling on it, I'd say there's a good chance it will work itself loose. But that's the best I can do." He caressed her breast one last time then said, "Good luck."

Fanni barely waited until he was gone to start pulling on the rope with her head. She had no idea how much longer her own hunter would be gone, and every second counted. Fortunately, it didn't take long for the plan to work. When the end of the rope slipped out of the knot she could feel her head fall forward just a bit; and a few more yanks caused the knot to completely unravel.

She was free to lean forward.

It took several minutes of tugging- rolling one shoulder to inch that arm forward just a bit then rolling the other shoulder to inch that arm closer to freedom. The further out of the sleeve she pulled, the more it tugged her fingers up towards the O-ring and they'd already been bent at an uncomfortable angle-but she kept pulling and tugging and working her arms closer to freedom, despite the increasing discomfort. The closer she came to being free, the easier it was the next time she pulled. In the end, she didn't even have to pull. The weight of her body was enough. The leather crotch strap was looped around her back, so just hanging put enough pressure on her arms that they slid relatively easily out of the leather sleeve, once she got past a certain point.

Then, of course, she was hanging from her crotch, with the strap forcing her upper torso down towards the ground. Fortunately, that was right where she needed to be to unbuckle the straps on the spreader. She actually had to reach up instead of down to undo the thigh cuffs attached to the spreader bar, and even the leather straps to the ankle sleeves were now above her head, since the forward lean of her body had forced her legs to pull upward on the leather straps instead of down. In fact, there was so much tension that it was surprisingly difficult to pull the ankle straps far enough to release the little pin catch. As soon as she released the first one, however, that leg was free to move further up in the air than the ankle that was still connected and that caused her to flop wildly about for an instant until her body settled in a new awkward and unsymmetrical position.

The last strap was actually the hardest. All the weight of her whole body was pulling the strap against the pin and she couldn't pull hard enough to flip it out of the hole. For a dreadful moment she thought she'd have to hang there, until her hunter came back and found her like that. But then, it occurred to her that if she bent her leg at the knee she could pull herself back up a bit. Then, when she quickly straightened her leg while pulling on the end of the strap, she could create enough slack to get the pin out of its hole. It took her three tries to get the timing right, but when the last strap was finally free she was hanging from her waist, sideways in the air.

She slipped out of the leather crotch strap (which was not just a loop around her waist) and began unbuckling the head harness as she went to the tent to look for anything she might find useful before she left. She was now officially without anything. What little clothes she'd had (the boots and gloves and such) were in the back of a truck somewhere. The caches she was familiar with were many miles away-perhaps as many as thirty or forty. Even her map was gone, and if she decided to try to walk, she'd be traveling the whole way in bare feet.

It was almost enough to make her look for the nearest hunter and turn herself in.

Almost, but not quite.

She estimated that it was only the seventh or eighth day she'd been loose on the island. There was still a lot of time left and her chances certainly didn't look good. But she was free and that meant there was still a chance, however slim.

She found a spare shirt and a pair of men's underwear lying on top of a light sleeping bag. Both were dirty and several sizes too big, but she kept the shirt anyway. Lifting up the sleeping bag, she discovered that the bottom was padded, even heavier than a normal sleeping bag, while the top was just a thin layer of cloth so that the a person could sleep comfortably through the island's warm nights. She felt something heavy inside the bag, so she picked it up and shook it out. A small flash light and (of all things) her multi purpose pocket knife fell out. The only other thing in the tent was a small cooler, which she assumed was where the hunter had gotten the food he'd cooked that morning, but it was locked. Beside it there were a couple of bottles of water. Everything else of any value was apparently still in the back of the hunter's truck. She threw everything into the light sleeping bag; she took all the easily retrievable pieces of leather and rope that had been used to tie her as well; then she slung the sleeping bag (which she was using as a carrying sack) over her shoulder and left the camp as quickly and covertly as she could.

It had bothered her to take so long foraging through the hunter's things. How foolish would she have felt if (after all she'd done to get free) he'd come back and found her stuffing the last pieces of rope into his sleeping bag? And yet, these few things might be all that stood between her and failure. She needed every advantage she could get, if she was to have any chance of surviving.

Other than the hunter's shirt, everything she possessed was in the sleeping bag! Unless you counted the collar she was still wearing, but that wasn't really a possession. It was still locked around her neck; so there was no way of getting it off. No, she'd have to wear it until she was captured again or she figured out a way of working it free.


7 - Living without Cache

Fanni hadn't traveled more than half a mile and already the bottoms of her feet were becoming sore. As much as possible, she tried to walk on things that were smooth or soft, like grass, larger boulders or even loose dirt. It was quickly becoming obvious that if she kept walking much longer her feet would be deeply bruised, with a tenderness that would stay stick around for hours, if not days. So when she came to a small rock that was reasonably well hidden among other larger rocks and small scrub, she sat down to rest for a while.

This part of the island was definitely a little rockier than sector-5, which made walking difficult, but the only way to toughen up her feet enough to run, was to do a lot of walking in bare feet. Too much walking, however, would have her leaving a blood trail. She needed to rest enough that her feet could heal; walking a little every few hours, with plenty of rest in between. If she did that for several days, her feet would become hard with calluses. All that, of course, assumed she could keep herself from being caught long enough to develop calluses.

Since it was rockier here, there was far less tree cover to hide beneath, so it seemed the best strategy was to dash from one area of cover to another. On a few occasions, she'd already seen hunters in the distance and felt it prudent to lie flat on the ground, hiding for several minutes until they were past.

Now, as she sat resting on the boulder-hidden behind larger boulders-Fanni wasn't quite sure what to do about her sore feet. Then she noticed the sleeping bag in her hands. The bottom part was heavily padded. She could cut out a couple of small pieces to wrap around her feet and ankles then tie these wraps to her legs with the rope she'd pilfered.

Jury rigging her new shoes took nearly an hour, and by the time she was done she was well rested and eager to get moving again. She took a few minutes to lift some rocks for worms and insects, but she didn't eat much. She'd discovered a few days ago that if she tried to force down to many of the crawly little critters they had a strong tendency to come right back up. And if they were disgusting going down they were twice as bad on the way back up. So she only ate a few at a time-swallowing them whole-and whenever possible chasing them with as much fruit, nuts or other edibles as she could so that she wasn't stuck with an after-taste in her mouth. The best strategy she'd found was to simply keep an eye out for things to eat as she walked. There were plenty of nuts and berries, and plants with roots and tubers that she could dig up without too much work. It was easy enough to nibble on these things as she walked. A few times she'd even found some eggs in a nest, or some of those mushrooms that the instructors had said were edible. The mushrooms could be dangerous, as there were several poisonous varieties on the island. One of the poisonous ones could cause hallucinations in small amounts, which was dangerous in its own way. Fortunately, one of the more common varieties was not only edible, it was relatively easy to identify.

If she'd had her tools and her sterno cans, there were also plenty of rabbits, small lizards, snakes and other tastier small-things that she could cook and eat without expending too much effort capturing them. Without her military shovel, she didn't trust herself to catch snakes any more. Some of their bites were poisonous. It wasn't absolutely necessary to cook them, but they taste a lot better when you did, and she couldn't risk putting smoke into the air. She knew how to build a smokeless fire, and she'd used them before; but even with the shovel it still took a while to dig the two pits, side by side; then tunnel between them. The principle was that as the hot air rose, it created a vacuum, which drew air through the tunnel from the other hole. If you burned the right kinds of materials, like birch bark, the fire produced so little smoke that you literally couldn't see it unless you were right on top of it. But in this rocky ground, without her shovel, it would take her all day to build one, and then she'd still have to find something to eat.

It was easier, for the time being, to just eat what she could gather as she walked.

As much as anything, Fanni missed her tooth brush and the soap she'd used a few times to take a bath. My mouth must smell like a sewer, she thought, not for the first time, as she washed her mouth out with a swig of water and used the loose shirt she was wearing to rub her teeth as clean as she could.

When she began to walk in her make-shift boots, she breathed a deep sigh of relief. That's so much better, she thought. With her feet protected like this she'd be able to walk at least for or five times as far each day.

She'd thought about traveling at night, but the last thing she wanted was to pass right by everything she might recognize during the day. This part of the island was more elevated, but she wasn't high enough up to see the shape of the whole island-otherwise, she could have used that to get a feeling for which direction to travel in. She still had a pretty good memory of what her map looked like before she lost it. It also occurred to her, that perhaps she should have tried to follow the road the hunter had taken to bring her here, but that road had been a bit windy at times and she hadn't wanted to walk more than she had to. Also, she'd feared that being so close to the road would make it easier for one of the hunters to find her.

She figured her best plan was to move in the general direction of the Orientation Center at the opposite end of the island, always going down hill whenever possible. If she did that, she thought there was a pretty good chance of eventually seeing something she recognized.

By the afternoon, Fanni had moved out from the higher, rocky ground and was walking through a long stretch of land dominated by high grass. It was nice. From time to time she would pull off a handful of grain and pop it into her mouth, slowly chewing until the raw kernels softened into a nourishing pulp.

At first she didn't like that there wasn't anywhere to hide. But after lying flat on her belly as a hunter walked right by her, no more than forty feet away, she began to change her mind. As long as she stayed low, and moved slowly so she didn't draw attention to herself, she seemed to be reasonably safe.

That would only last until she came within 500 yards of a hunter with a dog-but if that happened, it probably wouldn't matter where she was. Fortunately, none of the hunters she'd seen had been traveling in her direction. It was also fortunately that the dogs were apparently rather expensive to rent. It seemed that a lot of the hunters had rented them early, hoping to find a rabbit before many of them were caught, but after that, most of the hunters didn't rent the dogs continually. Instead, they'd rent one for a day here or a day there, and spend the rest of their time used more mundane methods.

Eventually, however, Fanni's luck would run out. She'd come within 500 yards of a hunter with a dog and she wouldn't be able to run away. Or maybe she'd step into another trap. Or she could be spotted by a hunter employing the wait and watch technique. There had to be at least a dozen different ways to be captured, and her luck couldn't last forever.

She'd seen and hidden from more than half a dozen hunters since escaping. Of course, it wasn't like she'd never had to hide from the occasional hunter back when she was in sector-5; but the trees there made it a lot harder to see such long distances. Out in the open, she could see hunters from as far as half a mile away-and it seemed that they were all around her. It alarmed her to think there might have been just as many hunters roaming just as close under the cover of trees-and she simply hadn't been able to see them. Or maybe all the hunters who didn't use dogs were hunting in this sector, where you could see the rabbits so much further away. It didn't make sense to hunt that way in the woods-but if the hunters were hunting that way here it was only because they didn't realize how easy it was for a rabbit to hide, simply by staying low and hiding in the high grass. Fanni legs were becoming very sore from walking that way, but she'd had as much luck avoiding hunters out in the open as she had in the woods.

When it finally began to grow dark, Fanni camped for the night. She could no longer use the sleeping bag as a mattress, but it still made a fine pillow. She worried that the chirping of crickets might keep her up all nigh, as she lie there looking up at the stars and listening to them; but somewhere before it actually grew dark, she nodded off to sleep.

In the morning, she examined her make-shift shoes and from the amount of wear she decided that she'd either have to make a new pair in a few days; which meant that it wouldn't be long before she'd run out of material and have to start going barefoot again. That meant she needed to start going barefoot again, for at least a few hours every day, to build up calluses. That had been the plan, before she made the boots. Having padded soles again was such a luxury she'd been rather quick to give up on the idea, but at least now she'd have the boots when her feet became too tender. For now, she would leave the wraps off while she walked.

By the time the sun was getting low in the afternoon sky, she'd put the wraps on and taken them back off four times; and her legs were almost as weary as her feet. She'd finished the bottles of water and refilled them twice as she passed by a stream. It was important to drink plenty of water in this heat, but even so, she was nearing the limits of her leg muscles. If she kept pushing any further she would risk a serious injury. As it was, she knew she'd be sore as hell in the morning, so she began to search around for a place to make camp.

As soon as she'd found the right place, she lay down on the ground and fell asleep.

When she woke Fanni realized that it was raining ever so lightly-but it wasn't the rain that woke her, it was that someone had been moving her around while she slept. She tried to move her arms and realized that they were already bound securely behind her back, with straps of leather making a neat little square. She didn't bother to open her eyes as her face was in the grass and whichever hunter had captured her was crouching over her back, securing the last few knots.

"I think someone's awake," he said, as he rolled Fanni onto her side.

He was one of the older hunters, with curly grey hair and a crinkly face. "Time for rabbit to sit up," he said, as he helped her to a sitting position.

Not far away, one of the hunting dogs was standing in the light rain, watching. Fanni could see her eyes through the goggles in her mask; they looked funny, the way eyes sometimes look through a pair of strong glasses. It made Fanni wonder if the goggles also had a magnifying effect, in addition to their infrared function.

"Rabbits falling like flies," the hunter muttered as he began to unzip his pants. "More than half of them already gone, but I already got me two." He pulled down his pants and under shorts and his cock sprang free, bobbing a little as it worked its way into a full erection. "Time to see if I got me a good one here." He looked Fanni in the eyes and for the first time seemed to be talking to her instead of himself. "Are you a good rabbit? Would you like to eat daddy's carrot?"

By way of answer Fanni got to her knees, moving a little closer as she wet her lips with her tongue. Then, starting at the base of his shaft, she began to lick it with her wet tongue-getting it nice and wet, so it would slide into her mouth more easily.

Fanni had done her share of sucking cock, and she usually enjoyed it. She liked to tease her man and make his erection last as long as possible-she'd even practiced her deep throating technique on occasion. Some of the bondage sites she'd been on liked to get pretty rough, and some of them paid more if you didn't have a lot of restrictions about what they could or couldn't do, so she'd tried to avoid restrictions that didn't actually repulse her-like water sports, or having her breasts used as a pin cushion.

Sucking a man's cock was sort of like sucking on a Popsicle only with a different flavor and without the sharp cold to hurt her teeth. And, of course, the cock gets larger instead of smaller when I suck on it.

"Hey," the hunter said as he slapped her face. "You going to play with it or are you going to suck the damned thing?"

He's obviously not one for subtlety, she thought as she took his member deep in her mouth.

"That's better," he mumbled as he placed his hands on the back of her head and forced her head down a little further and faster than she was ready to go. She gagged on the thing and instinctively tried to pull back, but he wouldn't let her go.

Relax your throat, Fanni told herself as she angled her neck and pushed her tongue forward so that it wouldn't bunch up at the back of her mouth. The object was to form a long wide passage that was as open as she could make it. She continued to look up at him and breathe through her nose. He let her pull out just a little then pushed her head further down. She was glad she'd practiced doing this under less demanding circumstances, because he clearly didn't care about how deeply she was prepared to take him. He clearly intended to force her head as far down as he possibly could-and he wasn't exactly small.

Just as the head of his penis hit the back of her mouth she swallowed, and she could feel the head of his penis sliding past the gag reflex. She flexed her throat muscles, feeling the increased pressure against him; then forced them to relax before squeezing again.

He moaned with pleasure. "Pretty good little rabbit," he said as he eased up on her head so that she could pull back a little. "Glad they told me where to find you."

She pulled her head back sharply and sat on her heels, "What the heck does that mean?" She asked.

The hunter responded by slapping her face "Shut the fuck up! Who's talking to you?"

Another not so nice one, Fanni thought as she winced.

"Obviously haven't learned what that mouth is for," The hunter said as he loomed over her, so that she couldn't move back any more without toppling over then he pulled her head back towards his crotch. "Better," he said when his dick was buried in her mouth again.

He flexed his hip muscles, pushing himself deeper into her face.

"Lucky for me, got a man at Headquarters giving me the low-down where all the rabbits are. Do it every year. Can't have the hunters wasting time in empty sectors! But I got an inside man giving me advanced notice before everyone else. They won't know the best places to look for several more days. Might not of found this little rabbit if I had to wait."

Fanni had the distinct impression that he was talking for her benefit, even though he'd slapped her for trying to answer him. Either way, she did her best to remember what he was saying because it seemed important. But most of her concentration was focused on trying to breathe and keeping her neck at the right angle so that he didn't choke her.

When he was finished with her, the hunter pulled up his trousers. Then he helped Fanni to her feet and pushed her ahead of him in the direction he wanted her to walk; muttering to himself all the while.

Fanni looked around and got her bearings; and realized that it wasn't that it was too early for the sun to be out, but rather that the sky was dark and overcast. But ironically the hunter headed in the same direction that Fanni had been walking before her capture.

Fanni found it much easier to think while she walked. What was it the hunter had said? Something about how someone back at Headquarters had let him know where most of the rabbits were. And, according to him, as the Hunting Season wound down, they became a lot freer with that sort of information.

Fanni had known her chances of winning the million couldn't be very good, but no wonder Renaldo was so confident. The Instructors hadn't exactly lied. They weren't literally using the rabbit's tracking devices to track them down-they were simply narrowing the field of play, so the hunters didn't waste their time looking in empty sectors. Eventually, she suspected, every single hunter would be searching for a single rabbit in a single sector. Near the end, Renaldo would probably lower the cost of renting the dogs as well. He'd want that sector covered with as many trackers as possible. Already, Fanni had been captured (or nearly captured) several times. The month was little more than a third of the way over, and if anything she was surprised that more rabbits hadn't been captured yet.

The thought was depressing. And a few minutes later, as if to match her black mood, the clouds opened up just a little and for a time it began to rain harder than a drizzle.

If the hunter who'd captured her hadn't been such a total cretin, at that moment-with her feet still a little sore and the light rain starting to make her hair damp-she would have been glad she'd finally been captured. As it was, she didn't look forward to what appeared to be the long walk in front of her; or whatever he might decide to do to her when they got to wherever he was taking her.


8 - New Home

It was almost twilight when they finally arrived back at the hunter's base camp, and it had rained lightly most of the way. Not too long before reaching the camp, the landscape had begun to be dotted with more trees and they'd crossed over a stream. The camp was just on the other side, which made it easy to divert water from the stream to the small cabins that were clustered together beside it.

Apparently, the hunter had rented a small cabin-a very small cabin. Outside there was a public shower area without stalls, just a low metal railing to separate it from the rest of the grounds. Not far from that was what appeared to be a communal Kennel for locking the hunting dogs up at night. In addition to some room for pacing, the kennel had three miniature dog-cabins, where the dogs could sleep. Each cabin was long and narrow, with a door-flap along one side so the dog could roll in or out, without using her hands. Even with their leather mittened hands, it was obvious the flaps were designed to be opened or closed by their occupants, so they could keep the rain out or let a cooling breeze in, as needed.

"Watch her," the hunter said to his hunting dog; then he went into his own cabin for several minutes. When he came back out, he had a single towel and a small satchel that looked a little like a doctor's bag, only smaller. "Bring her this way," he said as he headed towards the shower.

Fanni was eager to get under the water. It would seem weird to take a shower while a light rain was falling, but any chance to get soap on her body was one she'd be willing to take. Since she'd been free on the island, the one time it had rained it had poured, and she'd walked around in it for several minutes, letting the water wash her reasonably clean. She'd also dipped herself in a stream from time to time. The water was cool enough to be pleasant for drinking, but (despite the fact that it was still only late spring) it was not so cool that it was uncomfortable when she slid her body into it, especially after walking around in the heat of the day. She didn't even mind that the hunter hands would be all over her, as he would probably insist on soaping her down. All she cared about at the moment was experiencing real lather and a real clean.

He didn't wash the dog. There was no easy way to remove her leather outfit, and soaked leather would not be fun to sleep in. Fanni seemed to recall that the longest the same dog could be rented for was 2 days. That meant they had to spend two days, getting sweaty and nasty inside that leather outfit before they could get back to the Orientation Center for a good cleaning and a few days of rest, as they waited for the next hunter to claim them. So as bad as things were for her, Fanni didn't envy them either.

The hunter pushed Fanni into the shower and turned it on. "I'll be back for you after I've fed the dog," he said. "Don't run or when I catch you I'll leave you hanging from your tits all night."

Fanni had no intention of running. The hunter wasn't going far, and he kept a careful eye on her as he walked over and opened a small refrigerator on the outside of the kennel. Inside there was some fruit, and little patties about the size of a hamburger, wrapped in tin foil. He took two patties, along with a couple apples, carried them inside the kennel and set them beside a little dish near one of the empty dog-cabins. The dog began eating one of the apples while he washed out the dish. Then he set the rest of the food inside the dish, unwrapping the patties-of whatever they were-so they would be easier for the dog to eat. There was a communal trough of water with little metal nipples to drink from-sort of like the water bottles in a hamster cage. The trough was high enough that the dogs could drink easily from the nipples by kneeling down in front of it; and a stream of water continually fed the trough to keep the water in constant motion. An overflow spigot at one end let the excess water spill into a drain.

When the hunter was done tending his dog, he closed the kennel and came back over to the shower. Fanni was standing in the middle of the stream, letting the water saturate her hair and drip down her body as she moved her head around in a small, relaxed circle. The water had soaked the leather straps and they were beginning to loosen considerably, but she didn't tug on them or do anything to broadcast the fact.

The hunter removed his clothes, draping them over the rail one shower over. Then he rummaged in his bag for a few moments until he found a bar of soap and a tube of shampoo. Grabbing a handful of her locks, he pulled Fanni out from under the stream and forced her head down between his knees, as he opened the shampoo. He released her head, but when she tried to rise up he pushed it back down. Then he squeezed out a big gob of the shampoo which he began to work it into lather, scrubbing so vigorously that in made her scalp hurt. From time to time his frantic motions would yank her head from one side to the other.

Fanni had intentionally cut her hair short before coming to the island, and there had been times when she'd wished she had cut it much shorter still. This was one of them.

After a while, he pulled her head up and immediately began to soap her body down instead of letting her back under the water to wash out the shampoo. From time to time he would splash her with more water so the lather didn't dry out, but he soaped her down good, paying special attention to between her legs. When she was good and slippery he pushed her head down over the railing and began to fuck her doggie style: clinging to her slippery hips as best he could while ramming her against the railing in front with the force of his thrusts. Despite the shampoo that threatened to get into her eyes Fanni was grateful for the soap. In addition to making her body slippery it also made the passage inside her easier for the hunter to navigate.

After pounding at her relentlessly for a few minutes, he groaned with a little spasm as he finished. Only then did he wash the shampoo and soap off, paying special attention to the area between her legs that he had just sullied. When she was good and clean, he soaped her down again and washed her off a second time.

"Time to eat and get some sleep," he said in that way he had of explaining things to her while apparently muttering to himself.

He led her inside. There was a bed in one corner, a very small table that looked a bit like a picnic table except that instead of benches the seats were more like park benches, with a back. The whole thing might seat four if it didn't have to accommodate any serving plates. There was also a single door that probably led to a bath room, and a small but full-service kitchen. He led her to the sink and pushed her head down towards the flowing water. Fanni didn't need encouragement, she drank greedily. After a few swallows the hunter pulled her head back up. "I don't want the rabbit wetting her bed," he muttered. Then he had her sit on the floor, next to a small foam mattress that was covered with a sheet, while he went to the refrigerator for another one of those dog biscuits which he unwrapped. He tossed it on the floor beside her. "That's all the rabbit gets," he said.

He went to the microwave, took out a plate of food and plopped it down on the table. Apparently he was brusque with everything he did. Then he cracked open a pop, and sat down to eat.

It didn't take long. He ate quickly and didn't seem to savor the taste.

The same way he has sex, Fanni thought.

"Hunter let a rabbit get away," her hunter muttered when he had finished his dinner and placed the dirty dishes into the sink. "Must be damn sure that doesn't happen to me; tie her good and tight, while rabbit sleeps on mattress for the night." He chuckled, presumably amused by his own little rhyme.

In the corner beside the bed there was an oversized gym bag which apparently contained lots of rope. He pulled out several bundles and after positioning her so that she was centered on the foam mattress, he began to tie her with surprising speed and dexterity. He was very skilled in the craft. It probably took less than ten minutes for him to have her upper torso completely wrapped in a tight little web of ropes. He started by wrapping a loop around her waist so that it dug just a little under her ribs. Then he tied a knot in the front, went up about four inches, twisted the rope into a quick knot and looped the ends around her back again, when the ropes meet in the front again he tucked the ends under the twist-knot in the front so that he could move up another few inches and repeat the process. This created a series or horizontal lines with one vertical line running up the center, between her breasts. He made sure that one of the horizontal loops was just under her breasts and another was just above them-so that when he pulled the ropes tight they forced her breasts to stand out a little more. Then he worked the harness into a slightly more intricate web, with separate strands going around her neck, over her shoulders and under her arms. Her arms were pulled behind her back, and each wrist was pulled up towards the opposite shoulder, just a bit. The last touch was to wrap several strands of rope around her upper chest and arms, tightly pinning the uncomfortable little square of elbows and arms to her body.

"Stand up," the hunter said to her, as he walked over to his gym bag.

Fanni managed to stand up without help before he'd finished rummaging for more supplies. He set a large Bowie knife (and some other things he'd retrieved) on the table then he held out a tiny pair of translucent panties. It had a small triangle of sheer cloth in the front and back, but the rest was a thin elastic string.

It puzzled her why he would want her to wear it, but she stepped into it without regret. Other than the shirt, which had been removed when her arms were tied, this was the first piece of clothing she'd worn in quite some time.

When the hunter began to wrap her hips in another harness, she realized that the panties were intended to buffer the rope a little from the more delicate skin between her legs. He used an interesting technique to create the hip and crotch harness. He took a small elastic band, that looked a little like a hair-tie, and used it to support the rest of the rope work. The main rope was passed through this small band, then doubled in half and threaded between her legs, with the loop end of the rope sticking out just a few inches in the front, just above her pubes. Then, he put another twist knot in the rope at the back so that he could bring the rope around to the front and pass it through the elastic band without the harness loosing it's predominantly horizontally flavor.

Next, he took the ropes around to the back again, twisting them the same way he had with the chest harness, to keep the ropes nice and square; then he moved up several inches and made another twist-knot. This time, when he looped the rope around to the front, it passed just above the boney part at the top of her hips-and he pulled it tight enough to dig into her flesh so that the rope couldn't slip any further down around her hips. He tucked the ends of the rope under the elastic band, but instead of pulling them back the same way they'd come from (as he had with the first loops through the band) he let the ropes continue in the same direction around her waist, tying a sturdier knot at the back. This last rope opened the elastic band into a neat little triangle that was centered on her lower abdomen, about one-third of the way up between her crotch and her belly button. He finished the harness with one last horizontal loop of the rope, right at her bellybutton, and tied it securely at the back.

"Now for the legs," the hunter said, as he pushed her onto her stomach.

Tying the legs was much simpler. He used five lengths of rope. The first was wrapped several times around her upper thighs, with the last little bit of rope used to snug the ropes just a little by passing the ends between her legs and wrapping them around the strands. He did a similar tie just above and below the knees; and around the ankles. At first, Fanni was a little surprised by how loose he left these binding's-a lot looser than the ropes in her chest or hip harness-but then he bent her knees, so that the heels of her feet were pressing against her ass. This pulled the horizontal leg ropes much tighter. Then he used the last length of rope to create a little web around her bent legs. He began by looping the rope several times around her thighs, just below the level of her crotch and just above the thigh ropes; then he tied a solid knot in the middle of her shins, ran the rope about eight to ten inches down towards her knees, tied another little twist knot so that he could finish it with a little web tie around the lower part of her thighs and the upper part of her calves.

The result was a rather effective little hog-tie, even thought there wasn't any rope actually connecting her legs to her arms.

Leaving her on the foam mattress, the hunter retrieved more supplies from the table then placed a small piece of cloth over her eyes before wrapping her head several times with duct tape. Next he stuffed some more cloth into her mouth and placed several strips of the tape over it as well. The final touch was a small bullet vibrator that he tucked under the panties and crotch rope.

"That should keep the rabbit," the hunter said as he turned it on and tucked the little controller box under the ropes around her hips.

Oh God, Fanni thought as the little vibrator jiggled the rope against her clit. This is going to be another very long night.

Fanni moaned into her gag.

It was no wonder the hunter had used it. He must have known that she wouldn't be able to keep quiet with the little bee contentedly buzzing between her legs. Like the patter of rain that had become decidedly harder shortly after nightfall, it was a constant companion. She'd already had a couple of orgasms, and she knew from experience that she was easily capable of having several more before morning-which meant that she'd be exhausted and miserable from lack of sleep and squirming all night.

After he'd finished tying her, the hunter had watched her for a while as he smoked a cigarette; then he'd gone outside for a while, presumably to dispose of the butt in one of the puddles outside the door. After that he'd gone to bed. Despite the buzzing distraction, she'd been able to hear his breathing; it become slow and labored as he began to snore. She didn't think the door was locked either, so if she could just get untied it should be relatively easy to slip away and put some distance between her and the cabin before the hunter woke.

That was a big if, however.

The leather straps had tightened up again as they dried. The hunter had even loosened the straps a little in anticipation of this fact. If it hadn't been for the rope around her arms and chest, she thought she might have been able to wiggle out of the leather straps before they dried, but not now. She'd managed to escape some tight scrapes before, but her first escape had been more luck than anything. She still didn't know why the hunter had left her hanging from the tree like that. Maybe he'd spotted another rabbit at the same time he'd seen Fanni and wanted to track her down before he took them both in. Whatever the reason, Fanni knew there was no way this hunter would leave her unattended for hours; and even if he did, what were the chances that another hunter would wander into the cabin and agree to set her free.

No! If she wanted to get free again she'd have to do it for herself-which meant that in all probability she'd be spending the next year of her life as a toy for that horrible man who lay snoring on the bed. There were several hunters she didn't think she'd mind belonging to all that much, but not this man. He was abrupt and rude and violent; and she knew that she couldn't even imagine all the terrible things he was likely to do to her. Aside from murder and maiming, the slave contract didn't make a lot of restrictions on what the rabbit's new masters could and couldn't do to them. Once this man had the leisure to deal with her the way he really wanted, she had little hope that he would treat her kindly.

Her struggles to loosen the ropes, however, had been of no avail.

Earlier, she'd noticed that the miniature picnic table was bolted to the concrete floor. If she could make her way to it, maybe she could use the exposed ends of a bolt to help pull off the gag and blind fold. But then what? There was his gym bag. Surely it would contain something she could use. Perhaps she could get a hold of that large Bowie knife he's used to cut the ropes.

The ropes around her waist made it difficult-but not impossible-to use her stomach muscles. She'd been rolling around on the mattress enough to know that (with a little effort) it wasn't all that difficult to move around. It did tend to increase the pressure on the bullet vibrator from time to time, but that was a small penalty. Blinded (as she was) by the cloth and tape, a more important question was whether or not she could remembered which direction the table was in-and she thought she did. Since the hunter hadn't used a rope to connect her legs to the leather around her arms, she could bend fairly easily at the waist. This let her use her stomach muscles to pull her self up into an inverted V. Then, by rocking slightly from side to side while rolling her shoulders and moving her knees a little, she could (slowly and with effort) close the distance between her head and her knees. Then she could push her upper torso forward a bit. In this way, it would be possible to inchworm her way across the room. There wasn't a lot of play in the ropes, but they still allowed a surprisingly wide range of movement, despite the stringent binding; and after her little test run she was really starting to think she might be able to do this.

For a moment she recalled the hunter's threat to hang her from her breasts, but she figured that if that was something he wanted to do, he'd find an excuse to have her hanging from her tits at least once before her year was through. Better to take the risk now in the hopes of avoiding what would certainly come later, if she didn't get away.

So she rolled.

The floor felt cool as her belly left the mat and hit the surrounding concrete; her skin smacked softly against the hard surface. Attuned, as she was, to any noise, she worried that the sound might be louder than it was-or that the hunter might be an unusually light sleeper. At this point she could probably get away with claiming that she'd simply rolled off the mattress; she didn't think he would do anything but toss her back onto it.

When she didn't hear any difference in his snoring pattern, she went back to work. It was harder to roll on the concrete, but with effort she managed. For a few moments she worried that she'd rolled right past the table. Without being able to see, she couldn't be absolutely sure where the table was; and she wasn't sure she was rolling straight, either. But then her lower thigh bumped into something hard and she realized it had to be the seat of a bench. After a little jockeying for position she found the end of a bolt and began to work at loosening the gag. It was actually fairly easy. By pressing the bolt into the soft flesh of her cheek she was able to hook the bolt beneath the tape, and it tore easily enough when she pulled back. It took several tries, but when the tape broke she was able to spit out the cloth and work her jaw muscles a bit.

I'm committed now, Fanni thought.

The blindfold wasn't so easy. It was wrapped around a part of her head that didn't have as many soft spots, making it much more difficult to hook the edge of the tape on the threads of the bolt. It took her three or four tries just to tear a little more tape, but she did it over and over, until she finally ripped through the tape. After that it was just a matter of catching one of the ends of the tape on the bolt and pulling a few times. The tape was still stuck to her hair but her eyes were uncovered and her mouth was free. She rolled and inched her way over to the hunter's gym bag and pulled the flaps back with her teeth. He'd cut the ropes that currently bound her, using a large bowie knife which he'd put back into the gym bag. It should be lying right on the top. In the dark, it was hard to see inside the gym bag, but at least she didn't have to worry about cutting herself, since she'd seen him put the knife back in its sheath before putting it away.

After nosing around for a while she figured out which hard lump was the right one and used her teeth to grip the leather belt loop. Then she rolled and inched her way back over to the mini picnic table. Even without the blind fold, it was still dark, but not so dark that she couldn't make out the basic shape of large things.

The next part of her plan was the hardest part, for it demanded that she slip the blade of the knife down through the slats in one of the bench seats.

The first step was to angle herself so that she was in line with one of those seats. Then she had to plant her face and shoulder into the concrete while she slowly worked her knees forward in tiny little baby steps that tended to rub her knees across the smoothed concrete. Next, she had to rock back enough that her center of gravity was more-or-less above her knees. Finally, she had to very quickly lift her head off the floor (while she straightened her body) so that when she toppled forward her belly would be draped across the bench. And she had to do this successfully on the first try, because she'd be holding a knife in her mouth and if she missed the narrow gap between the back of the bench seat and the table top, she could do some real damage. There was also the risk of tipping over backwards instead of falling forward; or cracking her head on the bench because she didn't get her head high enough-and all of this had to be done without making a lot of noise, since that might wake the sleeping hunter.

When she'd worked herself up into the inverted V she hesitated as another orgasm shook her body. Then she waited some more, using the time to visualize exactly what she was going to do; the muscles she would have to use to make it work, and even the resistance the ropes would have to the contractions of her muscles. She played it over and over in her mind before she finally made the lunge.

Fanni dropped the knife as her shoulder smacked loudly against the back of the seat and the knife clattered onto the bench as some of the air was knocked out of her lungs. The leather straps around her arms actually protected her some, but the flesh around the straps was bruised and rope burned. She could feel the wood scraping her skin as she leaned her body a little to one side so that she would slide through the space between the back of the seat and the top of the table. She landed with another jarring plop as the corner of the bench caught painfully at the soft flesh just under her left rib, while the right half of her body was left hanging. The odd angle put more than usual pressure on the rope between her legs, and the little bullet vibrator was still buzzing. It would have been so easy to tilt sideways just a bit and let herself drop to the floor-but with a painful effort she kept her body as straight and stiff as she could, while she listened.

Over the patter of rain she could hear that the hunter had stopped snoring; he tossed on the bed, muttering in his sleep. Afraid to move, Fanni held her uncomfortable position for a long time as she listened for the hunter's breathing to even out again. Then she waited several more minutes, just in case the hunter was playing possum.

The knife had fallen just out of her reach, but it was still on the bench, so when she couldn't stand the corner of the bench digging under her rib any longer, she began to walk her knees up closer to the bench, which relieved most of the pressure under her ribs. Then she used her head and knees as pivot points-moving herself sideways so that she was a little more centered on the bench-before inching her way closer to the knife. She gripped it with her teeth and reversed the process, inching back towards the edge until her weight (when it wasn't on the crown of her head) was all on her breasts.

At this point, she could see the bracket that the slats of wood were resting on. Now all she had to do was slide the knife, blade first, down through the slats with the blade edge pointing out and she'd have a sharp edge for cutting the ropes. Surprisingly, the biggest trick turned out to be getting the knife out of its sheath. There was a strap around the handle with a snap and when she tried to open it, she ended up lifting the whole knife. She finally solved the problem by biting it off; wedging her teeth between the two parts of the snap. Then she took the end of the hilt in her teeth and used the side of the seat to help her pull the sheath off. It dropped softly to the floor, but Fanni still listened carefully for any change in the hunter's breathing. All she heard was the steady beat of the rain and the even, rhythmic hum of his breath, so she went ahead and slipped the knife down through the crack.

Getting off the bench was a lot easier (and a little less noisy) than getting onto the bench had been. Again, she walked her knees forward until her center of gravity was over them, then she rose up and let herself fall backwards and sideways a little-arching her body so she didn't land flat, with a plop. She was also surprised at how little pain there was even though she landed at an awkward angle on her arm and shoulder.

It was relatively easy to spin around, but it was harder than she'd expected to move towards the table once her knees were in the right position. She pulled it off by angling her body so that her weight was resting on an elbow and hip. With the leather straps pulling her arms so tightly behind her back, it took a lot of effort to keep her lat muscle flexed enough to make the elbow stick out even a little. And when she used her toes to inch herself forward it dragged her elbow across the concrete floor, ripping skin and bruising bone, but finally she had herself in position. Now all she had to do was roll onto her back and raise her knees-again, harder said than done. The ropes pressed on her stomach muscles, making it hard to use them and when she did raise her knees, her upper body wanted to lift off the ground a little since her lower body was apparently heavier than her upper body. It didn't help that her arms were behind her raising that part of her body up a little to begin with. She knew she could get her knees in the right position by rocking her body, but that wouldn't give her any fine control as her knees came down towards the sharp blade. If the ropes didn't come down on the knife just right she could end up cutting herself badly.

Visualizing hadn't worked all that well before so this time Fanni just did it. She rocked back, moved her knees back to the center and came down with the blade on the rope right between her knees. The rope didn't cut right away; she had to flex her muscles sliding the rope along the length of the blade. It was sharp enough to cut the ropes fairly easily, and as the knife slid between her knees it cut into her skin a little as well. She angled her legs a little to keep the blade from cutting any deeper, but she kept cutting, working on the ropes between her thighs. As the strands of the rope began to give way, she forced her knees apart, stretching the ropes further and providing a safety margin between her legs.

She'd cut one of the strands that held her ankles to her thighs, but there were several more wraps around her upper thigh and it took a bit of squirming to work them totally free, since her ankles and her thighs were still bound. It was much easier to move around now, however, so compared to the first cut it was fairly easy to slice away her ankle ropes.

The thigh ropes weren't quite as easy, she had to inch her way back towards the knife then arch her back to raise the ropes up to the blade. Her back muscles were threatening a full blown cramp, but fortunately it only took a few seconds to cut the ropes away. When her ankles were free, she spent several moments stretching her back muscles to loosen them up again.

After that, the first thing she did was stand up. Her leg muscles needed some stretching too, but more importantly she used the table to slide the bullet vibrator's on-switch to the off-position. After several hours of constant stimulation, the blessed quiet down there felt almost as good as another orgasm surely would have.

Despite her improved mobility, she still couldn't get the knife at he leather straps around her arms, and she didn't want to spend a lot of time trying. Better to take the knife with her and try her luck once she was away from this place. The last thing she wanted was for the hunter to wake up and catch her now, after all she'd done to get free.

Perhaps I can loosen the leather again by getting it wet when I take a swim, she thought, or maybe I can wear a hole through it by rubbing against a rough stone. There were a great many oddly shaped rocks that might provide a good place to wedge a knife too. And without the parts of the table getting in the way, it might even be easier. If nothing else, she could wander until she was captured by someone else. Any other hunter was bound to be a better option.

The last step in her escape plan was to gather whatever she could carry and leave. She used her teeth to pull the knife out from between the slats and lay it on the table, then went over and looked more carefully in the gym bag, searching for anything that was useful and small enough to hold easily in one hand. She nosed around until she found a piece of paper, which turned out to be a map of the island, and a small eye scope. Leaning over, she took the map in her mouth then twisted sideways so she could grab the scope. Walking back over to the table she twisted sideways again and took the knife in her other hand.

The last obstacle was the door. It would be tricky turning the knob with her hands full, but she didn't have any doubt she'd be able to do it until she turned the knob and the door still didn't open.

For a moment she almost panicked and rammed the door with her shoulder, but at the last moment she noticed that it had one of those sliding door latches. She couldn't very well use her teeth without dropping the map, and she didn't want to do that. So she tried using her chin-and fortunately it worked. The latch slid open with a soft click. She worked the door knob again until she could swing the door towards her enough to catch it with her toe and push it the rest of the way open. Outside it was still raining, although not as hard as it had been earlier. She thought about trying to shut the door again, but getting it to close would be much harder and she thought the possible slam was more likely to wake the hunter than the sound of the rain, so she left it open and headed out the door; as she passed through, her toe banged into an empty bucket that had been set upside down in the middle of the doorway.

If the bucket had been left, right side up, the rain water it held might have made it heavy enough to hurt more when she stubbed her toe-but on the other hand, it probably wouldn't have made quite so much noise either.

Damn it, she thought as she looked back and saw the hunter rolling over restlessly in his sleep. He isn't quite awake yet, she thought, but it won't take long if the dogs start howling-which they did almost as soon as she thought it.

Without waiting to see if the hunter would wake, she fled.


9 - Running Scared

She raced for the nearest woods, which took her right past the dog's cage. Since they were already yapping it didn't matter if they saw her now. Fortunately the kennel was locked and the dogs couldn't get at her, for by now they were all yowling together and even in the rain the sound seemed loud enough to wake the dead. So Fanni ran right past them, sprinting for the woods.

It seemed her best strategy would be to head for the stream where she wouldn't leave as many tracks in the mud and hope that the water would cool her body temperature enough that, hidden beneath the darkness of the trees, she wouldn't be easy to see as long as it was night. She could keep moving further downstream, hoping to get far enough away that the dog's tracking devices wouldn't make it quite so easy to find her.

That wasn't likely to work, but it was the only chance she had.

Five hundred yards: it didn't sound all that far, but running on foot, in the rain, with her arms still bound and the hunting dogs soon to be released-well, it didn't look good. But the water was all she could think of. So she ran towards it.

She didn't dive right in. The rain had turned the water muddy and she wanted to get as far as she could before she had to plunge in and the water slowed her down, so instead she ran along the water's edge, staying close but making much better time. She had no idea how far she'd run before she heard the sound of howling dogs in the distance-obviously in hot pursuit.

She kept running.

It was becoming more and more difficult to breathe through her nose while she was running, so that she didn't drop the map; and what was the purpose anyway. The light sprinkle of rain that was falling hadn't soaked the paper completely, but if she jumped into the stream with it, or had to go under the water to hide, it would certainly be destroyed. She was just about to let the map go when she came across a fallen log that was directly in her path. Near the end of the log there was a rotted out stump with a fairly decent sized hole in it. It would make the perfect place to stash the map so it wasn't found and it didn't get any wetter. She dropped the map over the hole and pushed it inside with her toe tucking it as far back as she could so that the rain wouldn't fall directly on it and it wouldn't be as easy to see. Then she dropped the eyeglass into the hole as well. For some reason she wasn't willing to let go of the knife. In case she never managed to get back to this stump, which was dangerously close to the hunter's camp, she didn't want to loose her best options for getting herself free; and, unlike the eyeglass, the knife wasn't likely to be damaged if it got wet.

So she kept the Bowie knife and used the log (part of which extended down into the stream) to walk down into the water. With the mud on her feet it was a little slippery and she worried that she'd take a bad fall, spilling head first into the muddy water. She hoped the rain would wash off the mud and then there wouldn't be any foot prints to show where she'd entered the water.

With all this rain, she thought, I hope the stream's not too deep.

Then she dropped off into the water.

It came up nearly to her neck, making it easy to slip and fall beneath the surface if she wasn't careful. The current was strong obviously strong too although here, closer to the bank, it wasn't too swift. Moving against it would be impossible, however; even standing still was difficult, but strangely, moving with it was fairly slow too. The muddy bottom squished between her toes and it was hard to get any traction. The best strategy might have been to push off and float for a ways, but she was fearful of not being able to regain her footing. At the rate she was moving, however, she wouldn't get very far before the dogs were upon her. Given that, it seemed the best idea was to spend what little time she had looking for a place to hide instead of fruitlessly trying to run further downstream. What she needed was one of those reeds like you see in the movies where they use them like an oversized straw to breath through while underwater; but there weren't any reeds around, and even if there were, they weren't likely to be hollow like they always were in Hollywood's cellulose fantasies. But maybe she could push herself into the bank and cover enough of her face and upper body in mud that they wouldn't be able to see her in the dark.

How long will they let the dog's keep sniffing around out here in the rain if they can't actually see me?

Unfortunately, she didn't have long before she'd get her chance to find out. She could already hear the dogs getting closer and as she neared the bank she realized that it was much too steep for her plan to work. Not far away, in fact, the grassy bank actually extended out over the stream. After a heavy rain, as this one had been earlier, the current was apparently fast enough to wash out the soft loam from underneath. The other side of the stream wasn't as steep, but to get to it she would have to head into deeper water, where the current was sure to be stronger.

Maybe twenty yards further on there was a tree with a large root that projected out over the water in a little half-circle. If she weren't under duress, it would have made a nice little seat for dangling her feet into the water. She moved towards it, hoping that there might be some place to hide beneath the other exposed roots. The water level came to just below the largest portion of root that curved out over the water, and the current was a little stronger here-strong enough that it was getting more difficult not to get carried away with it. She could hear the water lapping against the bottom of the root as she came closer and it appeared that there was indeed a bit of a recess under the tree where more of the mud had been washed away. There wasn't much space between the water and the roots, however, and even this close it was dark enough that she couldn't tell what might be back there.

Ducking her head under the water, she came up in the middle of the root's small circular enclosure then turned around so she could rest the back of her head against the root's bark to help her resist the pull of the current. When she ducked down to keep her head from sticking up above the top of the root, the force of the current pushed the water up above her mouth, but just under her nose; her feet were firmly planted in the stream's muddy bottom.

A few moments later she heard the dogs howling and realized just how close they were. She rose up, just a little and saw that they were snuffling around the tree line close to where the log had fallen. They seemed to be following her more by the tracks she left in the mud than by the beep of her homing device. Maybe, the water in the stream was interfering with the homing signal.

They followed her muddy foot prints out onto the fallen log. And then the hunters were right behind them. Slowly Fanni dipped further down into the water until her ears were just barely above the surface.

"What's wrong with them," one of the hunters called to another. "They couldn't have lost her scent when they were so close."

"She must have gone into the water," another said.

"That's crazy," the first hunter said, "We'll be luck if the current hasn't dragged her under. Dang fool went and got herself killed."

"We can check along the banks," the second one said. "If the current hasn't taken her she'll be hiding somewhere. Why don't you take this side and I'll cross on over."

They were coming to look for her-no chance they wouldn't look down into the center of this root and see her head. Maybe she could slip under the water and hold her breath while they are near, but she preferred to try her luck with the possible space that might be further back under the tree itself. So she pushed her head back sharply with her neck to generate as much forward momentum as she could against the current, and slipped under the water's surface, moving as far toward the back of the root system as she could before trying to surface. She felt a horizontal root poke her in the breast, but her head was still clear to move further back-so she turned around and grabbed the root with the free hand that wasn't holding the knife. She realized, as she tried to move her arms, that there was a lot more slack in the leather bindings than there had been before they got wet. It gave her the freedom she needed to grab the organic safety line and pull her self further into the tangle of roots. She could feel her legs leaving the bottom and floating sideways as her head broke the water. She took a slow but deep breath, carefully bending her knees to keep her feet well below the water's muddy surface.

Fanni clung to the root for a very long time.

Both her hands began to cramp and she could tell that the water level had risen a few inches, but she still didn't want to come up just yet. She was reasonably certain the hunter's had moved on but she couldn't shake the irrational fear that they were sitting around waiting for her to surface.

In the end, she surfaced only because she badly needed to defecate and she didn't know how much longer she could hold it.

The leather straps had become as loose as they were going to and she'd managed-using the roots around her as handy hooks-to pull them down from around her shoulders. That allowed her to pull the hand that was still holding the knife free of the smaller loops of leather that circled her forearms. Now, the only thing she hadn't gotten rid of were the hip and chest harnesses made of rope. She thought about cutting them off, but decided it would be better to save the rope for future use. For that she'd need two free hands and the ability to look at what she was doing, so she could cut the ropes close to the end knots.

Fanni ducked under the water and let herself float out to the circular root. She came to the surface in the middle of it and looked around. There was no longer any space between the root and the water, and she thought the current was even strong than before. Carefully, she pulled herself up in the middle of the root until her arms were draped over it. Then she slowly climbed out of the water. Her arms were so weak that this was almost more than she could manage, but she pushed against the circular part of the root until it pressed her back against the trunk of the tree and slowly worked her way out. Then, using a low hanging branch to support much of her weight she pushed off of the circular root and swung herself around to the grassy bank. She quickly untied the ropes to her hip harness (realizing as she did that the bullet vibrator had gotten lost somewhere) then she found some suitable leaves and squatted behind some bushes.

When she was done with her business she decided to go ahead and untie the chest harness as well-although in the end she had to cut a few ropes on that one to free her self. She used some of the ropes to create a little belt. By doubling the rope and tying two knots close together she was able to create a reasonably secure place to hang the knife. She just hoped she wouldn't accidentally stab herself with the fool thing; still, it beat having to carry the thing around in her hand all the time.

From there she walked back to the large log that had fallen across the river and crossed back over to the other side so that she could make her way to the stump where she'd stashed the map and eyeglass. She was a little surprised the map had weathered the rain so well. The image side had a glossy surface that had kept the water from destroying the image completely, despite being well soaked. After a little examination she found the mark that indicated the hunter's cabin where she'd just spent the night. Using that as a reference, she was able to determine approximately where she was on the island. She wasn't all that far from her personal cache; perhaps no more than half a day's walk. Even better, the river she'd just been hiding in appeared to be the very same one that passed not far from the cache. She was reasonably sure that if she followed the river it wouldn't be long before she began to recognize the landscape. She'd be able to find the things she'd need to survive for the rest of the month.

That was, at any rate, the best plan of action she had. So she walked back over to the stream and began to follow it south, staying about waist deep in the water so she could keep her left hand submerged while holding the eyeglass above the water with her right hand. Being in the water would also make it easier to slip under it if she noticed more hunters and needed to hide again.

It took a bit longer than half a day.

Traveling in the water was much slower than walking on dry land. Not only did she have to walk slower, even when traveling at full speed, but there were numerous obstacles she had to navigate and that slowed her down even more. But finally, she began to think she was recognizing things-and a little further on she was sure of it.

This is the spot where I liked to take my baths, she thought.

From here, it would take less than ten minutes to be at her cache.

She raised her left hand out of the water and looked down at the blue tracking beacon that could still be seen, like a small bruise, lurking just beneath the skin in the web of flesh between her thumb and forefinger. As soon as she'd taken her hand out of the water, her signal had reappeared to the sensors back at headquarters. They'd know now that she hadn't drowned. As long as her hand was above the waterline and that bead was still in her hand, she'd be vulnerable to the hunting dog's tracking sensors. But what if it wasn't in my hand, she thought. She looked down at the large sharp knife she held. It cut so easily through the ropes. How difficult would it be to simply lay the blade across that small web of flesh, right above the bead, and then quickly pull the end of the knife so it slid across her flesh? It wouldn't take much; just a small break in the skin and she should be able to dig out the blue bead that was causing so much trouble.

Without stopping to think, she placed the edge of the blade over the bead and pulled. There was a sharp sting that made her flinch, but when she looked again, she could see the blue bead through the neat little split in her skin. The blood had barely begun to flow as she squeezed the fold of skin and forced the bead to pop out.

It fell into the muddy water, floating for a moment before slowly starting to sink. She almost watched it disappear, glad to be rid of it-but then, at the last moment, she scooped her hand into the water and caught it between her fingers. This little bugger might be expensive and although she didn't want the dogs tracking her by it, she didn't really want to have to pay for loosing it either. She'd owe enough already, when things went south as they almost surely would. Instead, she compromised, hiding the blue tracker beneath a distinctive boulder-one that she recognized, having rolled it over a few times when looking for food. There were a few nasty little treats under the rock this time too, but she wasn't in the mood so she used her knife to stab a hole in the ground and buried the tracker.

With any luck, she was close enough to the water that back at head quarters they might assume that she had surfaced for a few minutes and then gone back into the water. They would never see her come back out again, so perhaps they would still think she'd drowned, or perhaps they would merely think she was staying in the water all the time. The one thing that seemed fairly certain was that during the last week or so of Hunting Season, Renaldo would alert his hunter's to search every inch of this streams for her.

Unfortunately for him, she would be hiding up in her tree-with all of her supplies and nothing to give her away.

After a good long sleep on the platform by her cache, Fanni felt better (physically at least) than she had in what seemed like days.

Before falling asleep, she'd climbed her tree and done a quick inventory of what was left. She'd forgotten how little she still had here at her own cache. There was the few cans of food she hadn't already lost or opened; and despite thinking it was terribly wasteful, she decided to open cans now and eat until her stomach couldn't hold any more. It didn't take nearly as long as she'd thought it would, as her stomach had become accustomed to not eating very much. She managed to drink several handfuls of water and get one and a half cans of condensed soup down her throat before she felt too stuffed to eat any more. But that was three cans shy of all she had

Other than that, the cupboard was pretty barren. Most of the more useful things she'd had were lost. What hadn't been taken by Karen when she commandeered the items in the public cache had been lost when she was captured. Aside from the limited amount of food and water, there was the first aid kit, which she ransacked for a small bottle of spray disinfectant. She smothered as many of her scrapes and cuts in the stinging spray as she could before putting it back in the kit and binding the worst of her cuts and scrapes with band aids or gauze and medical tape. The only other things of value in the cache were a comb (which she used for an extended period to work out the snarls in her hair) and a tooth brush with a tube of toothpaste (which she also used rather aggressively). When she was done she washed her mouth out with water and lay back on the plank of wood and fell asleep.

When she woke it looked to be morning. After eating another can of food with several more handfuls of water and pissing on the branch so that she wouldn't have to climb down the tree, she rolled back over and went to sleep again.

The next time she woke she actually felt a little sluggish and tired; but it looked to be mid-day and she needed to defecate something fierce. So she grabbed some of the sanitary wipes, climbed down the tree and found a good spot to do her business. When she was finished cleaning herself thoroughly she thought about climbing back up her tree, but other than the platform it didn't have much that she really needed any more. If she wanted to survive until the end of the month she'd need to start foraging again. It would also be useful if she could go back to Karen's cache for the things that were hidden there. Aside from lots of toilet paper and cans of food, there were several useful things that weren't in the safe-assuming, of course, that the hunter's hadn't pilfered the lair as soon as she was gone.

So after a moment to think about which direction it was in, she took off

With any luck, the pad of paper would still be there with all the combinations she had already tried, and she could start working through the rest as soon as she got there. The trick, now that her homing device was gone, would be to only enter and leave the lair during the dark of night-so hunters wouldn't be able to see her doing it.


10 - the New Hunter

Fanni crouched down among the rocks in her old hiding spot, which looked down on Karen's lair. Below, next to the lair, a hunter had apparently set up camp. Fanni brought the monocle to her eye and focused as she scanned across the landscape below. Although the eyepiece had a rather small field of vision, it enlarged everything about 5x, making it relatively easy to see the details of the camper and the two hunters sitting around the fire in front of it.

One of them was Suzy, the same Huntress who had captured Karen. Apparently she and the hunter she was working with had liked this little valley so much they'd set up camp here. That would almost certainly make it impossible to get back into Karen's cache-unless, of course, she waited until they were out hunting again. That, however, seemed too much like tempting fate. With her luck, they'd end up coming back right after they'd left because they forgot something. And yet, what other choice did she have. She needed supplies. So once again, she climbed the same tree that she'd used days earlier to spy on Karen and settled in for the long wait-watching, like a hunter stalking the hunters.

That may not be such a bad idea, Fanni thought to herself.

Her bare feet, while steadily getting tougher, were still sore from walking so much over hard ground. And now she was almost totally without assets. Aside from what might still be in Karen's cache, and the few things in her own, the only real things of value (other than what she carried on her) was the little blue homing device that she'd buried underneath a rock. If she could somehow manage to take these hunters unaware, perhaps she could capture them and use the homing device to convince everyone else that Suzy was the rabbit.

Fanni remembered the warning that the instructors had given during training week. "Keep in mind, hunters, wild animals can be dangerous. Even a rabbit will stand and fight when cornered. You have signed your own waivers acknowledging the risks and agreeing to the consequences should something unfortunate occur. Be ever vigilant, least the hunter become the hunted."

She and Suzy were about the same size, with the same color hair. From a distance, it would be hard to tell them apart-so as long as Fanni didn't let anyone get close enough to actually identify her, she could sit around the camper for the rest of Hunting Season then just drive these two right back to the Orientation Center to collect her million dollar prize.

Fanni was so pleased with the idea that she literally laughed out loud. It was a plan driven by utter desperation, but because of that it might also be a stroke of utter genius.

It wasn't really all that late in the evening, but apparently, having captured at least one rabbit already, Suzy and her partner didn't feel the pressure to keep pushing as hard as they might have. It seemed they preferred to sit around the campfire in the evenings and cook themselves a fine meal. That was alright with Fanni. It meant they would have plenty of supplies, and the more laid back and reclusive they were the less likely it was that anyone else would come nosing around.

She waited until night fell and they went inside the camper to sleep then as quietly as she could, she crept down to-the camper. For a moment she thought about trying the door around midnight, when they were likely to be fast asleep. Perhaps she could sneak in and take them unaware before they had time to wake, but the more she thought about it the more foolhardy that plan seemed. So she lay on the ground and waited until morning.

Fanni woke to the sound of someone slamming the door.

"Make sure you close that door good," Suzy said as she let the hunting dog out of her cage.

For a moment Fanni worried that the dog would see her heat signature crouching underneath the narrow space between the camper and the earth, so she grabbed onto the cross beams of the undercarriage and pulled her self as far off the ground as she could. She soon realized she didn't have enough strength to hold her self off the ground for long. Better to take her chance than risk falling. After all, all she could see of them was their feet and the bottom of their shins.

James, the male hunter, was busy slamming the door several times. Apparently the thing had a tendency to stick, and you had to give it a really good thrust to get it closed. Even then, he gave it a few firm tugs to make sure the job was done.

"We need to get this damned door fixed," he complained as he picked up his traveling bag and slung it over his shoulder.

Fanni watched them leave, moving so far back as they angled off into the distance, that she wasn't actually underneath the trailer anymore. She stood there until she was absolutely sure they were long gone. Then she walked around to the front and gave the door a tug.

Damned, she thought, closed tight. But maybe there's a key.

She looked everywhere and couldn't find a spare anywhere. Not that she'd really expected to, but it was worth a shot. After exhausting all her ideas on that score, she tried to force the door open without one. Nothing worked. She didn't want to damage the door unless she absolutely had to. That would let them know she'd been inside, giving her away when they came back.

No way to take them by surprise then, she thought.

Which meant her plan wasn't going to work. In frustration she kicked at the door with the flat of her foot. If she had to break the door down she figured she might as well shatter it. But instead the force of her blow pushed her back and she ended up tumbling onto her ass. She rolled over and climbed to her hands and knees, rubbing her rear as she grumbled in embarrassed frustration.

Nothing is going to work, she thought as she picked herself up and dusted off her bare legs. But when she turned back to the door it was standing wide open. Her mouth fell open in amazement, but then she began to smile a big grin of relief.

Apparently the frame of the trailer was bent, which made it difficult to close the door. But it could also make the door just as difficult to open, which was why both she and the hunters had been convinced the door was locked. Luckily for her, the hunter made the same mistake when he tugged at the door. Or maybe it really had been locked, and her kick just jarred it open somehow, since it really wasn't a very high quality lock to begin with.

She went to the door, checking more closely for damage and was pleased to see that while there was a very slight dent in the door, it was small enough that it might not be noticed, especially if the hunters weren't paying close attention when they came home.

It all depended on how detail oriented they were.

Fanni smiled again and went inside, closing the door behind her.

Careful, but quickly, she searched the trailer. Her original plan had been to find a spare key so she could sneak in at night, but with a door that stuck like this one there was little chance of that. Time to formulate a plan-B. She rifled through their belongings searching for anything useful she could steal.

Very high on that list was clothing. Suzy was a little thicker through the body than she was, but the clothes she found fit reasonably well. She also found what appeared to be that spare key she'd been looking for, although now there didn't seem to be a reason to take it. Still, there was plenty of food-although most of it was food you had to cook-and an extra tote bag to put it in. There was a wrist watch too. Fanni looked at the date and was surprised that her sense of time was only off by a few days-still it felt extremely good to know that she only had a little more than two weeks left before the Hunting Season was over. With a sigh, she slipped the watch into one of the pockets of the pair of pants she'd put on.

In a large box, she found what appeared to be the belongings of all the rabbits they had captured. There were compasses, maps, a couple of those multi-purpose knives, cigarette lighters, a pocket novel, rolls of string and rope, sewing kits, scissors, sterno cans and much more. Fanni hadn't felt so awash in plenty since that first day, pilfering the public cache.

And just then-right when she was riding the high of truly believing once again that she might somehow manage to survive the next two weeks-that was when she found the small chest in the closet. It was full of rope and handcuffs and other bondage things; and sitting right on the top was a stun gun. It was a little hand unit that looked like a short wand, and at first she thought it was just a flashlight, but when she picked it up for a closer look, she saw the anodes and realized what it was.

She flipped the safety switch to the on-position and pushed the trigger button a few times, listening to the crackle of electricity. This might make things a lot easier, she thought, as long as it's not just a cattle prod instead of a taser.

For a long moment, Fanni debated what to do. With this little device, she might no have to wait for them to fall asleep; which meant the sticking door was no longer as serious a problem. On the other hand, she still access to a tote bag that she could fill with precious things; and since there was no more tracking device in her hand, to give her position away, it might be best to just grab what she could and sneak quietly away.

I wonder how many zaps this thing has left in it, she thought as she turned the taser off again since there was no one to zap anyway. She didn't know much about tasers. It was possible the damned thing might only have one good charge, although that didn't seem very practical, given the likelihood of a victim having more than one attacker. On the other hand, the thing was so tiny. How much zaps could it possibly have?

She had just about decided to take her chances running with whatever booty she could carry, when she heard a hunting dog baying out in the yard. She looked covertly out the window, hoping there might still be time to grab the bag and run before they got too close, but they were already within easy sight; coming over the nearest small hill, probably less than a minute away.

Damn, she thought, looks like the decision's been taken out of my hands.

She turned the taser back on and hid in the closet, listening. After a few very long moments the door was pushed open and James entered. "Damned door," he muttered, "if you'd fucking learn to close!"

He came straight for the closet; he obviously knew right where to find whatever it was he'd forgotten. When he opened the door Fanni jammed the business part of the wand right into his belly and walked him back just to make sure he got a good enough zap. James fell to the floor twitching without making any more noise than a strangled little gurgle. Quickly, Fanni pulled him over to the leg of some built in shelving and cuffed his wrists to it then she stuffed a gag into his mouth and crept towards the window to see what Suzy was doing and if she'd heard the noise of her partner falling. Apparently she hadn't. She was still a good distance away, the dog several paces behind her, but it was clear they were both beginning to loose patience.

"Come, on James!" She called. "It's right there in the closet, I put it there yesterday evening. It has to be there!"

She waited another few moments then started walking angrily towards the door. Fanni hit the button on the taser, to make sure it was still crackling, then grabbed some rope from the box before moving carefully towards the door. She had to move quickly, but without making any noise. If Suzy heard Fanni and thought she was James, she might decide to wait outside instead of coming into the trailer to see what was taking so long. On the other hand, she had to be close enough to the door (when Suzy did enter) that she could give her a good zap while she was still moving forward.

Fanni timed it almost perfectly.

She was reaching forward just as Suzy passed through the door. At the last minute, Suzy saw her and began to pull back as Fanni pressed the wand to her chest. There was less than half a second of contact before she stumbled backwards and fell to the ground. Fanni leaped out the door after her. Apparently Suzy had gotten a little of the charge, but not quite enough to totally incapacitate her the way it had James. She was rolling awkwardly on the ground, but still reaching for her knife as she tried to force her stiff muscles to work together.

Fanni glanced up at the dog, worried that it would try to help Suzy, but it was just standing there, watching. Apparently squabbles between hunters deserved no more than mild curiosity; and that was how the dog saw her, now that she'd removed her tracking device and put on some clothes.

If the dog had been moving towards her, Fanni might have tried to zap Suzy again-giving her as much juice as she could before she had to deal with the dog-but when the dog didn't move against her, she reconsidered. By now, Suzy had her knife out and was waving it around wildly. She didn't have much control yet, but with the size of her knife it wouldn't take more than a lucky swipe to cut someone pretty good. So Fanni decided the best strategy would be to try to tangle her up a little in the rope before she moved in. Fanni needed to keep her distance, so instead of trying to wrap Suzy up, the way a cowboy would wrestle a steer to the ground, she flipped the rope like she was trying to jump rope, except that she leaned forwards and extended her arms so the rope caught Suzy around the waist and arms. Before Suzy could regain her senses and move free of the rope, Fanni used a wide circular throwing motion to flip another loop around her arms and pull the ropes tight. Now she had one tight loop around Suzy's body and elbows. She continued looping the rope in the same way as fast as she could. Suzy was recovering quickly. She no longer looked dazed, and in an even fight Fanni suspected that Suzy would be able to take her, even without the knife to give her a distinct advantage. Fanni's only advantage was the loops of rope pinning Suzy's arms to her sides.

Suzy countered by standing and trying to rush Fanni; apparently hoping to loosen the ropes enough to get the knife under one of the strands and cut herself free. Unfortunately for her, when she lunged forward and the ropes loosened, some of them slide down around her knees, limiting her movement and threatening to trip her when Fanni pulled the ends tight again. Quickly, Fanni tried to throw another loop over Suzy's head but it bounced off the side of her head and for a moment there was slack in the ropes, which let Suzy move her knife closer to the nearest strand of rope. It wouldn't take her much longer to succeed.

It was obvious Fanni needed a new strategy. So she pulled hard on the ropes as she backed away, constantly moving backwards and sideways. The movement broke Suzy's concentration on the rope and forced her to move forward to avoid being pulled over. Fanni's steps, on the other hand, were not as restricted, since she didn't have ropes pinning her knees together. As she kept moving sideways, while also moving back, the result was that Suzy had to walk much further to keep up. It didn't take long for this to create some centrifugal, with Suzy acting as the rock in the pocket of a sling, which Fanni was twirling around her body. The longer Fanni kept at it the faster Suzy had to move her feet to keep up and with her legs still bound at the knees it didn't take long for her to get tripped up and topple to the ground.

Fanni moved in quickly and wrapped the rope several times around Suzy's feet before tying a twist knot. By now, Suzy had recovered and was reaching towards her with the knife, so Fanni stood up and began to drag her towards the steps where she'd dropped the taser when this fight first began. When she picked it up, she held it close to the soles of Suzy's feet.

"Drop the knife," she said, "and I won't tase you."

Apparently, Suzy believe her. But then Fanny thought, Why take the chance, so she pressed the baton to her feet anyway. After several seconds, it was obvious that Suzy was totally incapacitated. Only then did Fanni take the knife and throw it out of Suzy's reach before she finished tying her up as tightly as she could with the single length of rope.

"You can't do this," Suzy said peevishly when she regained the use of her mouth. "You're the rabbit, not me."

Fanni reached out and grabbed her dog tags.

"That's what these say, isn't it" Fanni said. Then she smiled, taking the tags from around Suzy's neck and placing them around her own. "Good thing they're not attached then, isn't it?"

"You'll never get away with this," Suzy said.

"I think I already have. I've got your clothes; I've got your dog tags."

"What happened to your own tracking device? Why didn't my dog try to stop you?"

"Ah," Fanni said as he held up her hand to show off the wound on her left hand. "I did a little surgery; rabbit's all gone."

"You think they won't notice that?"

"Seems to me I saw some arm-length gloves inside," Fanni said, "the kind a lady who fancies herself a mistress might wear. They ought to hide the wound for another week or so." She looked down at Suzy's wrist. "I'll take that, by the way," she said as she took the watch off Suzy's wrist.

Fanni would have to fake being this woman for nearly two weeks, but she didn't think that would be all that difficult. Both she and Suzy were about the same height, with hair that was more-or-less the same color. Fanni was a little thinner but she could wear baggy clothes.

"It will never work," Suzy said as she seemed to realize what Fanni was thinking. "What about my James? People know him. They'll notice if he doesn't come around."

Fanni had forgotten all about James. He'd be recovered by now and trying to get free from the leg of those shelves. If she left him along long enough, there was little doubt that he'd be able to get free.

"Sorry," Fanni said as she pressed the taser to Suzy's leg for another several seconds.

"Noahrg" Suzy managed to get out before she was incapacitated again.

"Who's the rabbit now," Fanni said with a big smile as she grabbed the knife and headed towards the trailer.

Inside, she found James tugging at the shelving, just as she'd feared. The metal leg had gouged a deep rut in the linoleum; and the metal was beginning to bend, just a little. Not enough to get the chains underneath it yet, but it wouldn't have been long.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Fanni said as she pressed the taser's discharge button.

When he heard the thing crackling, James stopped struggling and she was able to bind him much more securely, with leather cuffs on his feet and a length of rope that bound his feet to the other leg of the shelving. Then she went back out to check on Suzy again.

The woman wasn't even struggling.

Fanni helped her to her feet.

"Which would you prefer?" She asked. "Hopping to the trailer, like a good little bunny or I can try to carry you over my shoulder?"

Suzy frowned, obviously not liking either option, but after a while she decided. "I'll hop."

"Then get hopping," Fanni said as she held the taser threateningly close to her legs and pressed the discharge button.

When they were inside, Fanni had her sit down on the bed; then she pushed her over backwards, picked her feet up and moved her around so that she was lying lengthwise on the mattress, with just enough room that Fanni could sit comfortably beside her.

"So," Fanni said, as she began to cut Suzy's clothes away with the knife. "You're going to tell me everything you know about James' friends. Like how many of them there are and how often they come around.

Suzy just looked at her with daggers in her eyes, so Fanni cut the blouse away from her breasts then reached down with both hands, gripped Suzy's nipples between thumb and finger and gave a long and savage twist. Suzy screamed. Fanni kept right on twisting.

"He likes to go to the Orientation Center," Suzy said at last. "A few nights a week; he likes to drink with his friends."

"Does he go on a regular night," Fanni asked, easing most of her pressure on the nipples, but clearly threatening more of the same if she didn't get answers.

"Yes," Suzy said after only a short hesitation. "He goes every Friday and Saturday."

Fanni looked down at her new watch. It was Tuesday, which meant-if Suzy was telling the truth-that she had three days before anyone would think to start looking for him. The days seemed to make sense since those were the traditional days for that sort of thing.

"Now see, that wasn't so tough to do, was it?" Fanni asked as she rubbed the nipples more gently for a moment.

"Fuck you," Suzy said.

Fanni began to twist the nipples again. "You know, Suzy, I kind of like this rule about doing whatever you want with a rabbits. It's really not such a bad rule, if you're not the rabbit."

"Fuck you," Suzy spat.

"Oh my, we obviously need something for that filthy mouth of yours," Fanni said as she rummaged through the storage bin where she'd found the rope and cuffs earlier. "Here we go," she said, holding up an impressive leather head-harness with built in blinders and an O-ring that seemed designed to hold one of the several interchangeable gags that had been lying beside it. Fanni picked the largest gag.

"You're going to be mine when that auction comes," Suzy said bitterly, as Fanni tugged the harness over her head.

Fanni frowned, not pleased at all with that possibility.

What was it the instructor said? Don't piss off your partners rabbits, they can do just about anything they want to you.

Suzy wasn't exactly her partner, but the same principle applied: if this didn't work out she was likely to have several pissed off hunters looking to own her sorry ass. Not just Suzy and James, but all the others she'd pissed off-or embarrassed by getting away from them-as well. One way or another, if this plan didn't work, the next twelve months would be very miserable for her; and she'd certainly be paying many times over for every insult she'd ever given-real or imagined.

After making sure that both James and Suzy were securely gagged and bound, Fanni locked the dog inside her cage, which was hitched to the back of the trailer. Then she carefully washed out her hand wound-the one where she'd taken out the tracking device. It was beginning to feel a little tender. Swimming around in the river hadn't done wonders for the open wound, but it wasn't as bad as she'd feared it might get either; still, there was a real chance of serious infection if she didn't take good care of it. She couldn't afford that, so she covered the wound liberally with an antiseptic from the first aid kit then covered it with a band aid to keep it from getting any worse.

Fanni covered her hands with the pair of black gloves she'd found then she got into the truck and drove it back to the rock where she'd stashed the homing device. She could have walked, of course-the rock wasn't all that far away-but she figured she'd been walking enough lately and her feet were still a little tender. Even though they were now protected by the pair of boots she'd found, she figured her feet deserved a bit of a rest. Besides, she figured that if she was in her truck the other hunters would be more likely to leave her alone. Just in case, she decided to start wearing a pair of sunglasses and a ball cap she'd found in the trailer. She'd also tucked her hair up under the cap. Anything that changed her appearance and made it more difficult for a casual observer to recognize her was a good thing. The last thing she wanted was to run into one of the hunters she'd met and have them recognize her.

It had been a while since Fanni had driven her car, and she'd never driven a truck with a trailer behind it; but fortunately the truck was an automatic. By the time she parked along the side of the road-as close to the rock as she could-Fanni was quite comfortable with the way the truck rode.

Before walking the rest of the way to the rock she looked in on her captives, just to make sure they were still secure and weren't up to any mischief. After escaping more than once herself, she was rather nervous about the possibility that either James or Suzy might be able to figure out some way of getting loose. Fortunately, they were both still right where she'd left them. The gags were in place; the ropes just as tight as when she first bound them.

From where she was parked along the road, walking to the stump only took a few minutes and digging in the dirt until she found the homing device only took a few more. But by the time she was ready to head back she was getting nervous about her prisoners again. She ran most of the way back. She was only a little surprised when the dog started yowling at her as she came close. As she'd already surmised the dogs were trained to key almost entirely on the homing device, when deciding whether or not someone was a rabbit.

Before entering the trailer, Fanni took out the taser that she carried with her at all times now, just so she'd be ready if anything did happen, but again, her captives were right where she'd left them.

What's that, Suzy's eyes seemed to ask as Fanni was washing off the plastic covered tracking chip. "This is what identifies a rabbit," Fanni said as she held up the small sliver of plastic and metal circuits, "And from now on it belongs to you."

Fanni placed the tracker carefully into a box, then drove back to the camp near Karen's lair, parking in the same spot. Then she tried to think about the best way to attach the homing device to Suzy's body so that if other hunters came around with their dogs it would appear that she was the rabbit. One of the more interesting things that Fanni had discovered in the box of bondage goodies was a metal-reinforced, leather chastity belt. After washing off the homing device, Fanni experimented with embedding the tracker in the end of a flexible dildos and locking that inside of Suzy using the Chastity belt. Unfortunately, either Suzy's body or the metal of the chastity belt interfered with the dogs ability to detect the signal-because when Fanni lead Suzy into the yard with the belt on, the dog didn't even look at her.

For the moment, Fanni set her mind to other problems. The goody box also contained a heavy leather mask which would be useful for covering Suzy's face. The hood had a mouth hole with a removable gag, so she would probably be able to keep her in the mask all the time, removing the gag only to feed her. To keep it from fallout out when she put the mask on, Fanni braided Suzy's hair and pinned it to her head in a tight, flat spiral. This will keep her hair nice and neat, she thought. Then it suddenly occurred to her that these tight spirals of hair, especially when covered by the mask, would make a very safe and secure place to hide the homing device. So she stuffed the tracking device deep into the center of the bun, pulled on the hood and found a large phallus gag to stuff in Suzy's mouth.

Fanni took her captive out into the yard, and when the dog started yowling, just as she would if any other rabbit were around, Fanni smiled. Her plan was going to work after all.

The truck had one of those electrical wenches on the front of it, and Fanni decided to use it for some suspension. So she looked in the goody box until she found an ankle cuff that was designed for suspension. Untying Suzy's legs, Fanni lead her captive down the stairs of the trailer, while she carried all the other things she would need.

"Lie on the ground," Fanni told her when they were beneath a tree that was close to the truck.

When Suzy didn't immediately comply, Fanni stung her ass and legs a few times with the whip she'd brought, and the new rabbit dropped reluctantly to the ground. Fanni placed the suspension cuff on her ankle, and pulled out the cable on the truck's wench. After tying a length of rope to the loop in the end of the cable, she tossed it over a sturdy (and nearly horizontal) tree limb before using the rope to pull the metal cable over the tree branch. Then she connected Suzy's suspension cuff to the cable line with a metal clasp and turned on the wench. Slowly it lifted Suzy off the ground. When her captive's body was hanging freely, Fanni untied the ropes around Suzy's arms, put leather cuffs on her wrists and connected them behind her back with a six inch length of light chain. Fanni connected a heavier chain to the center of the light chain. Her original plan had simply been to pull Suzy's arms away from her body with one of those spiral stakes that are used to firmly anchor a dog leash into the ground-but the chain was considerably longer than required and that got Fanni to thinking about what other things she might do with the chain's extra length.

"Give me your other leg," she demanded.

Again, Suzy resisted; and again, Fanni was forced to whip her into compliance. This time Fanni focused primarily on the inside of her thighs and when Suzy closed her legs to protect that area, she moved down to her belly and breasts.

"I'm going to keep whipping until you give me your leg," Fanni said as she placed another hard stroke across Suzy's breasts.

Finally, when Suzy opened her legs and lowered her free foot (so that it was within easy reach) Fanni used up the excess links by wrapping them around Suzy's ankle. Only then did Fanni attach the end of the chain to the ground. This arrangement held Suzy's legs open, with the lower ankle very close to her wrists, which forced her to arch her back in an appealingly awkward way.

As she alternated between giving her captive pleasure with a vibrator and pain with the whip, Fanni realized that she was actually quite glad that the homing device hadn't worked when she'd tried the chastity belt arrangement. Having Suzy open and accessible was proving to be much more fun.

Fanni had never been a top during any of her video shoots. It wasn't that she hadn't been willing to give it a try, but that role usually didn't pay quite as well-and money had always been the factor that motivated her to act in these movies. The Dom role also required a bit more experience. Being the Dom might look easier, since they didn't have to endure any punishment, but the top had to know how to tie their submissive quickly and efficiently, and the result needed to be visually appealing as well as safe. They had to know where the major arteries were, so you could avoid using rope-work that constricted those areas too tightly. For instance, a major artery ran up along the inside of the thigh. That's one of the reasons why, when a Dom suspends their slave from the upper thigh using rope, they always use several loose strands of rope instead of one tight one. Not only are the multiple strands more comfortable for the slave, but single strand could constrict the flesh enough to crimp the artery and restrict blood flow-which could lead to the slave loosing their leg, if the Dom left them unattended or didn't notice the excessive discoloration of their legs. Fanni also knew from experience that you couldn't leave a submissive hanging upside down for too long, or it would cause the blood to rush to their head. Leaving them this way for too long, could potentially cause serious health problems including blindness, stroke and even death. Fanni didn't actually know how long it would take for those things to happen, but she'd heard enough to make her just a little nervous about leaving Suzy hanging for too long-especially given that she was wearing a mask, which would make it more difficult to monitor how she was doing.

Fanni, herself, had been suspended for as long as fifteen minutes or so-and that had been long enough that she felt a little woozy when they turned her back upright again. So after a carefully monitored ten minutes, Fanni looped some strands of rope around Suzy's chest and used them to help support her torso as she unwrapped the chain from around her lower ankle then retied it to the ground. This left Suzy doing the splits, with her body extended horizontal to the ground.

Fanni was considering what to do nest-perhaps some variation of a crotch rope tied to a new rope around Suzy's elbows when another truck pulled up and parked.

For a moment Fanni almost panicked and ran, but then she took a deep breath and touched her hand against the outside of her pocket, just to make sure the taser was still where she remembered leaving it.

This was her plan. If it was going to work she'd have to talk to other hunters eventually. What made her so nervous was that this hunter obviously knew where to find her, which meant he might know Suzy personally. He might even know her well enough to wonder why Fanni was wearing her clothes and working over a slave in the middle of her camping spot.

"Hi," the hunter said with a friendly wave. "You must be Suzy. My name's Eddie Farris. I'm sure James must have told you about me?"

Fanni smiled and breathed a sigh of relief. Apparently, he knew James, but not Suzy. That could still be dangerous, if she said the wrong thing, but it was better than what she'd first feared.

"He's mentioned your name a few times," she said.

"Is he around? I was hoping I could talk to him."

Suzy moaned loudly into her gag, obviously trying to get Eddie's attention.

"He went to the Orientation Center for supplies."

Eddie frowned and looked over at the truck. "How did he get there without his rental?"

Uh oh, Fanni thought as she casually moved her hand closer to the taser.

Two possible lies popped into Fanni's mind at the same time-both with potential pitfalls. She could say that James had taken her car, but why would he do that? And what if this hunter knew that Suzy didn't have a car? After all, why would two hunters who were working together need to rent two vehicles. The other lie was to say that James had gotten a ride from one of his drinking buddies. Only the chances were pretty good that Eddie was one of those drinking buddies, and he might ask for a name-which she wouldn't know.

I've got it, Fanni thought with a smile. "His truck, huh? Is that what he told you?"

"Uh... that's what he said."

"Guess it doesn't really matter, we both use it; but I had things I wanted to do so he caught a ride with someone else this time." Fanni didn't want him to ask more questions, so she kept talking as rapidly as she could without it beginning to seem forced. "You're welcome to give him a call on his cell phone. Or you can wait for him. I'm not really sure when he'll be back, though; sometimes he stops for a few drinks when he's getting supplies. We're planning to go hunting this afternoon so it shouldn't be more than a few hours."

"Well, I guess I'll catch up with him later," Eddie said, "But I am curious why he didn't take the rabbit back, if he was going that way anyway?"

"I wanted to have my fun with her first," Fanni said. "She was a bad rabbit when we caught her, and I promised I'd pay her back before I took her in." Eddie looked like he was about to ask another question, so she cut him off. "Would you like to fuck her before you go?"

It worked. He stopped asking questions as he mulled it over.

Fanni was hoping he'd say no, but apparently Suzy's exposed orifices were too tempting.

"That would be nice," he said with a smile as he placed his hand on Suzy's thigh. He let his fingers slide lightly down to her inviting folds. "A blowjob would be even nicer."

"Sorry," Fanni said, "I promised her the hood wouldn't come off until we got back to the Orientation Center, and I keep my promises-even if they are to a slave. But you can do just about anything else to her you want."

"Guess I'll just have to make use of her ass then," Eddie said as he unzipped his pants. He let his trousers fall down around his ankles and moved forward, pressing the head of his swollen cock against the puckered flesh around her sphincter.

"I have some lubricant inside, if you'd like."

"I like them dry and tight," Eddie said as he shook his head. "It makes her fight harder; and I like taking what's mine."

"I'll keep that in mind," Fanni said, forcing a smile. "Just don't take too long taking what's mine. I have my own games to play with her."

It didn't take Eddie long to force his way inside Suzy's ass. He used her upright leg as an anchor, wrapping his arms around it and pulling as he thrust, pushing himself violently inside her as deep and fast as he could. Fanni could hear Suzy sobbing through the mask, and she almost felt sorry for her. Not quite, but almost.

It did seemed strangely ironic that the sounds of suffering were the sounds that seemed to pass through the mask with the least distortion. Not only was Suzy's pain evident in her moans and whimpers but it was equally apparent in her body language. At times her whole body trembled with the pain, although after he'd been pumping for a while it seemed to get easier for her.

Before she'd begun working on Suzy, Fanni had thought she might find it uncomfortable to bring pain to another person-so she'd been a little surprised at how much fun it was to watch Suzy's cute little body writhing and moaning. It probably helped that she felt the woman deserved what she was getting, after all Suzy had obviously enjoyed giving pain to others and Fanni couldn't help thinking, What goes around comes around. Only what did that imply about what she was doing and the way her panties were getting wet right now? Maybe she'd already had her share of being on the bottom. Or maybe she was just making her own karmic bed of nails. Either way, Fanni decided to enjoy the moment; so she went into the trailer and quickly retrieved two nipple clamps, several lead weights and a soft leather whip with lots of strands, before coming back to join the fun.

It took a little doing to time Suzy's movements so that she could put the clamps on the woman's nipples without interrupting Eddies' work, but once the clamps and weights were on, Fanni was rewarded with the sound of them all but rattling from the force of his thrusts. That made the whole scene even more appealing.

"She's loosening up too much," Eddie said, "Why don't you give her a few strokes with the whip. Focus on her ass and belly; that should make her clench up again."

Given his goal, Fanni was afraid she'd give herself away if she applied the whip too softly-so she put almost all of her might into the first stroke against Suzy's ass.

"Oh yeah, that's it," Eddie said, as Suzy muscles obviously clenched against the pain. "Give her some more like those; I'm almost there."

It only took a half dozen or so strokes with the whip and Eddie began to make funny faces as his muscles tightened. For some reason, he reminded Fanni of a rabbit: the way his thrusts had become so short and quick; it was as if all his muscles had locked up, preventing the freer movement of his previously bold strokes.

When he was done, Eddie breathed a deep sigh saying, "Ahhh, that was good!"

Fanni smiled. "Glad I could make your day," she said. "And I'll be sure to tell James you stopped by."


11 - Bringing the Rabbit Home

I'm not going to be able to keep up this pretense for two whole weeks, Fanni thought as she watched Eddie driving away. He'd promised to check back in a few hours if he didn't hear from James, which seemed to imply that despite letting him have his way with Suzy he was still suspicious of her. Maybe he was naturally nosy and pushy. Or maybe he just really needed to get a hold of James. Whatever the reason for his persistence, one thing was clear: Fanni couldn't just sit around wearing a hunter's outfit, waiting for the end of the Hunting Season. It looked like she'd have to pack up as much of the useful stuff as she could and take off again.

Maybe she could avoid being captured for another two week. Without the homing device, she could spend as much time in her tree as she wanted, without worrying about the hunting dogs finding her. And when she walked around she could wear one of Suzy's hunting outfits so that if someone did see they'd be more likely to think she was just another hunter who preferred to keep to themselves.

It wasn't as desirable a plan as sleeping in a camper, sitting around a campfire eating fine meals and playing with her pretend rabbit to pass the time.

She'd also have to do something with James and Suzy. If she just left, without making sure they would get free, it was possible one or both of them could die. Eddie said he'd come back, but what if he didn't. Having a little fun with Suzy was one thing, but causing her death would be quite another. Fanni didn't want that on her conscience.

In addition to the moral concerns, there was a legal matter as well; killing a person was a good way to become a slave for life-especially if the judge realized that she couldn't afford to pay restitution to the family in any other way. The problem was, as soon as they were free, either James or Suzy would almost certainly tell someone what had happened. Soon, all the hunters would know and then they'd be on the lookout for a lone female hunter who didn't want to get too close to anyone else.

Fanni wasn't even sure if there were any other female hunters (besides Suzy) in this year's group. So maybe, she'd be better off ditching the clothes and just trying to hide.

Then again, it was possible that removing the homing device could be considered cheating. Fanni couldn't remember what (if anything) the contract had to say about that. She'd read the boring legalese, but right now she couldn't remember much of anything it actually said. If removing the blue chip was cheating, however, it was more than likely the punishment would be quite severe. Maybe when she returned to the orientation center, expecting to receive her grand prize, she'd be bound instead and carried off to the auction anyway.

At the very least, it seemed likely Renaldo would feel that, since she'd cheated, he was entitled to cheat as well. There were cameras scattered all over the island; what would stop him from using them to track her down, despite his promise not to. Did his promise even mean anything when she'd been the one to cheat first. For that matter, why hadn't someone shown up already to capture her and cart her away? The only thing that made sense was that the people watching the video monitors at Headquarters hadn't noticed the switch yet-after all, there were supposed to be millions of little cameras out there and it was possible they still thought she was hiding in the water.

That wouldn't last long, however. As soon as they discovered what she'd done they'd be on the lookout for her. The way Fanni figured it she might have as little as a few hours or as much as a few days before the full might of Renaldo's cameras began to assist in the search for her.

Clearly, she hadn't thought this through very well. But since it was already done, the question now was: what could she do to make things better.

If only I could find a way to get off this island.

That was it.

With Eddie checking back in on her in a few hours, Fanni couldn't expect her hunter's disguise to last for more than a few more hours at most, but maybe that would be enough time to walk right into headquarters and ask to leave. Surely they couldn't recognize every hunter, and in her hunter's clothes it might not occur to them that she was a rabbit. All she had to do was convince them that there was a dire, personal emergency-one she simply had to go tend to. If she took Suzy with her she might even be able to convince them that Suzy was a rabbit and convince them to give her an upfront advance on the money she'd bring in at auction.

It didn't seem likely they'd do that for her-nor did it seem likely she'd actually make it off the island-but at least she'd have a chance.

Unfortunately, getting off the island wouldn't be much of an improvement over being captured and sold at the auction, unless she could find a way to pay off her debt. Or go underground and disappear for the rest of her life-only Fanni didn't have the knowledge to do that on her own, and she certainly didn't have the money to pay someone to teacher her how to do it. At best, she'd probably end up living on the streets, whoring her ass for a living. Maybe she could get a job as a waitress and earn enough to get an apartment before some pimp came along and took her money for working his territory.

No, leaving the island without money was almost as bad as staying. At least after one year of taking the worst they could gave her, she'd be free again, to make a new start for herself.

The decision was made.

It was all or nothing; either she'd leave the island with a few bills in her pockets or she'd turn herself in. How depressing would that be? Still the decision was made and Fanni felt better for it. So she let Suzy down from her suspension, led her to the trailer and retied her securely before climbing into the truck and driving back to the orientation center.

The parking lot was almost empty when she arrived, so it was easy to find a spot close to the sidewalk that lead to the headquarters. The lot had been filled with rental cars when she'd arrived, but like the truck she was in, most of the vehicles on the island had been rented out by hunters.

Fanni tried to remember the instructions the hunters had been given, but at the time she hadn't been all that interested in the procedures for turning in captured rabbits (or returning hunting dogs) for that matter, so she wasn't quite sure what to do. Hopefully, the dogs were something you had to pre-pay for. But just incase, Fanni looked through Suzy's bill pouch (no purse for this woman) to make sure she could locate one of her credit cards before taking Suzy and the hunting dog inside. The money inside that pouch wasn't much-maybe sixty or seventy bucks-but it would come in handy once she was away; and there was no question that Suzy could afford the loss. The credit cards would be a little more dangerous to use, but she could probably spend at least a few hundred before they took the card. It all depended on how long it took to discover the card was stolen.

Fanni checked over James one more time. She attached a leash to Suzy's collar then hobbled her by attaching a short length of chain to her ankle cuffs-just in case she tried to draw attention by running or something. Finally, she headed towards the cluster of buildings.

As she walked towards the kennel, Fanni felt in her pocket for the taser that was still sitting there. It gave her a surprising degree of reassurance, despite the fact that if she actually needed it there was little chance it would be of any real help. It might delay the inevitable for a short while, but after that where would she go?

Everything depended on her playing a convincing role as a huntress.

The only other things Fanni carried were an electrical prod (which she'd found in the box of bondage goodies) and Suzy's cell phone. Once she was off the island, Fanni planned to call and let them know that James was still in the trailer. The prod would come in handy if Suzy tried to draw attention by rebelling.

Fanni stuck the electrical prod between her legs and gave her a zap, just to let her know that she could. "If you don't want to keep getting those," she said, "I suggest you behave little rabbit."

It took a few more zaps to convince her, but finally Suzy settled down and went willingly where she was lead.

The kennel was a fairly large section of the mansion, but customer access was through a rather normal looking door in the same halls where the lessons had been given during orientation. Other than the small sign on the tessellated glass window, the door looked like any other. It was propped open and Fanni lead her charges inside.

"May I help you?" The slave behind the counter asked.

"Just turning in my hunting dog," Fanni said.

"Your dog's tracking code?"

Uh oh, Fanni thought, have I blown it already.

"I don't seem to remember it," she said, rolling her eyes a bit, as if she were trying to remember.

"It's on the tag," the slave said; and when Fanni didn't seem to comprehend she added, "On the zipper; just under your dog's throat."

"Of course it is," she said.

Just then, Suzy thought it would be a good time to try to draw attention to her self and Fanni was forced to yank her slave's head down using the leash then she gave her another lesson with the electric prod. "I'm sorry about that," Fanni said, and it wasn't too hard to feign exasperation. "I'm just a little distracted. I have a family emergency that's got me a little preoccupied, and it doesn't help that this damned rabbit has been acting up ever since I captured her."

Fanni found a metal ring attached to the counter and tied Suzy's leash to it before turning to the dog and looking for the number on her tag.

"Number 15," she said with a sheepish smile. "You'd think I could remember something so simple."

"Don't worry about it," the slave said as she typed into a computer. "Few of the hunters bother to remember their dog's number. That's why we put it on the tag."

"Of course it is," Fanni said, trying to sound more confident and less apologetic. "How long will this take? I have to make arrangements to leave the island."

"Leave the island?" The slave said with a blank look, as if she didn't understand the statement.

"That little family emergency I mentioned? I need to get home."

"You'll need to clear that with Renaldo," the slave said.

Fanni sighed. That wasn't what she was hoping to hear, but the truth was she'd expected it. "Well then, you'd better wrap this up quickly, hadn't you; so I can go find him."

"Of course," the slave said with an obsequious nod. "Would you like to pay for that now? Or should I put the charge on your final bill?"

"I'll pay later," Fanni said; and the words seemed to have an ominous double meaning.

"If you want to lead your dog into the back," the slave said, pointing to a door at the end of counter. "I'll finish printing up your receipt and have it ready for you to sign by the time you get back."

"Behave yourself or you'll be sorry," Fanni said as she zapped Suzy again then she placed the electric prod on the counter. "If she gets too unruly," she told the slave behind the counter, "just give her a jolt or two between the legs. It seems to calm her down quite nicely."

Fanni lead her dog to the indicated door as quickly as she could. Despite leaving the prod for the slave, she didn't want to give Suzy time to cause too much mischief.

Beyond the door was a large open bay that looked like a cross between a barracks and a gymnasium. There were bunk beds along one wall, storage units and spare equipment along the opposite wall and, in the center, there were treadmills and other training equipment. A few dogs were sleeping on the beds; more were running on the treadmills, apparently getting in their marathon for the day.

"What are you doing back here?" another slave said. "Hunters aren't allowed back here."

"I have an emergency," Fanni said. "The girl at the counter said I should bring her back here so she could finish up my paperwork."

"Oh."

The slave didn't seem to know what else to say, so Fanni just turned and left-hurrying back out to see what Suzy was up to. The electric prod was still lying on the counter, apparently unused despite the fact that Suzy was yanking at her leash and kicking the counter with her bare feet. Fanni hurried over to the electrical prod and poked her in the ribs with it.

"I warned you not to make a fuss," Fanni said, sticking the prod between Suzy's legs and zapping her several more times. Suzy danced and whined as she kept zapping. "If I wasn't in such a hurry," she told the slave behind the counter as she zapped Suzy yet again, "I'd ask you to take your time so I could keep punishing this wearisome bitch."

"Almost done," the slave said as she pressed a button and the printer began to hum as it spit out her receipt. "If you'll just sign here," she said placing the paper on the counter and handing Fanni a pen.

Fanni almost signed her own name but, at the last moment, she remembered to sign as Suzy. Since she didn't know Suzy's last name she just made a couple of squiggles. If anyone checked the signature against one on file, Fanni would be in trouble-but if she could escape detection long enough to get off the island, that would be enough.

When she was finished with the signature, she gave her faux rabbit another shock before leading her out the door. One of the classes during Training Week had explained the process of turning in a rabbit and now that she was back in the halls where those lessons had taken place her memories were beginning to come back to her; so she had no difficulty finding the Processing Room. It was through another normal looking door that seemed to be propped open at all times. Fanni had certainly never seen the door when it was closed. Standing behind the counter was another young slave, who was apparently a member of the island's fine staff. She stood, as if waiting at attention for the hunters to bring in their rabbits so they could be registered before taking them to one of the cells where they would stay until the end of the Hunting Season.

"I'd like to register my slave."

"Good hunting," the slave behind the counter said.

It wasn't exactly a question but Fanni answered anyway.

"Yes, it was," she agreed.

"Just sign here and we'll begin processing her for you."

Fanni signed Suzy's name again, with the same squiggles for the unknown last name.

"I have a dire emergency that will require me to leave the island," Fanni said. "Do you happen to know, by any chance, whether it would be possible for me to get an advance on what the rabbit will bring at the auction?"

"It's possible," the slave girl said, a bit uncertainly. It was obviously not something she was asked very often, but she didn't want to give offense either.

Fanni hoped she wasn't just being overly polite.

"Who do I see about arranging that?"

"Renaldo is the only one who can authorize an unscheduled flight off the island."

"I see. And do you know where he is at the moment?"

"I can ring him for you, if you'd like." The slave picked up the phone that was sitting on the counter and pressed a button. "Master Renaldo, please report to the rabbit's Processing Center. One of the hunter's has a level-5 emergency. Master Renaldo, please report to the rabbit's Processing Center. There is a level-5 emergency."

"What's a level-5 emergency," Fanni asked suspiciously.

"That means you've requested to leave the island," the slave said. "I'm not certain where Master Renaldo is at the moment, but he usually responds very quickly when he's paged. He'll probably be here by the time we've finished signing in your rabbit."

"Excellent, Fanni said, beginning to relax just a little.

"I understand that you want to leave the island?" Renaldo said.

He was standing right beside the bench where Fanni was sitting, and she hadn't even realized that anyone was approaching.

"Yes," Fanni said, standing a little too quickly. "Something very important-but of a rather personal nature- has suddenly come up and I simply must go home as soon as possible to deal with it."

"I'm sorry," Renaldo said, "But I'm afraid rabbits aren't permitted to leave the island until they've officially been out-processed." He smiled kindly at her. "That has never happened until the Hunting Season is over."

After the word 'rabbit' Fanni barely head him.

All she could think about was that she'd been discovered and her ploy to escape was over. Her heart was beating wildly in her chest. Maybe he'll give me another chance, she thought, set me free back on the island instead of taking me directly to a holding cell.

"Fredrick," Renaldo said, turning to one of the instructors who Fanni only now realized was standing beside him. "Would you please escort Miss Adams to the conference room," he turned back to her. "I'll be along shortly to talk with you further about this matter."

Instead of grabbing her by the arm, as she'd expected, Fredrick motioned in a friendly manner, indicating that Fanni should walk beside him. That seemed to bode well for the possibility of being released back onto the island. If she were going to be taken to the holding cells, wouldn't they be more forceful?

Fanni thought about all sorts of crazy things as she walked beside the large man. The taser was still in her pocket. She could stun him and slip away. But what if they really were going to give her another chance and release her? Stunning one of Renaldo's main men wouldn't endear her to them. Besides, where would she go? They'd have her tracked down in a matter of minutes and when they lead her away she suspected they wouldn't be nearly as polite. So Fanni walked beside him, dreading what was to come but making no effort to stop it.

Fredrick led her to a small conference room with a plush carpet and a business table that looked to seat about twelve people. "Please wait here," he said when she was inside the room.

As he closed the door behind him Fanni could hear a click as the lock's tumblers fell into place. She tried to open the door, but it was locked-just as she'd thought. All she could do now was sit down in a chair and thumb through one of the magazines lying on the table. None of them looked all that interesting. Forbes, Hunter's Weekly, Slave Master's Digest. She tried to thumb through the pages of one, just to keep herself busy, but she couldn't focus on the words. Even the pictures didn't really register.

Nearly five minutes later Renaldo finally entered the room.

He grinned broadly as he looked at her and Fanni wasn't sure if it was because he was looking forward to the money he'd make when he sold her or because he felt a little like a sadistic father who was about to punish a precocious child. "You've made this a very exciting Hunting Season," he said as he took the seat across from her.

"I'm sorry," she replied.

"No, no! It's been very good theater. I strongly suspect this will be our highest rated season ever-and that's saying something, believe me. Hunting Season is already one of the highest rated shows on the Bond-Nets. But this year I've decided to focus the majority of the show around your exploits. The producer has dedicated a special team to doing nothing but following your exploits, so we've been watching you more and more closely in recent days. You see, we've had contestants in the past who have escaped once... but you're the first one who's ever managed to do it more than once. And I must say that the way you managed to do it was quite impressive."

"So you'll let me go again?"

"Of course," Renaldo said. Fanni breathed a sigh of relief as he pushed some paperwork towards her. "You will have to sign these release forms if you want to leave the island, however."

"Excuse me? I thought rabbits..."

"Yes, well, as soon as you sign these forms you'll be a rabbit no more. You did after all bring in a rabbit of your own, and that makes you a hunter. So as soon as we've formalize the transition, you'll be free to leave the Island as soon as you wish." He grinned at her. "That is if you still wish to leave?"

"I... I don't know." Fanni was too stunned to know what to say.

Renaldo was just sitting there grinning, and this time she thought he was looking at her like a proud father who had just watched his daughter receive a prestigious award. Fanni's head was all but spinning with relief. Then suddenly she had a terrible thought. If she was no longer a rabbit, what happened to the money she was supposed to receive as a rabbit?

"I guess if I'm no longer a rabbit that means I won't be sold at the auction... but what happens to the fifty-thousand all the rabbits are supposed to receive?"

"Unfortunately," Renaldo said, "Since you're no longer a rabbit that money will have to be forfeited. However, as soon as you change the signature on the rabbit Registration Form that you signed earlier to your own signature, you will get official credit for the capture of Mrs. Parker."

"You mean Suzy?"

"Yes. As the hunter who brought her in, she belongs to you now. As soon as you properly file the claim you will be the legal owner of a lien on her person for the next twelve months. You'll be able to keep her for yourself or sell her at the auction-whatever you wish. If you choose the later option, my guess is that, because of her unique status as a previous hunter, Mrs. Parker's selling price will have a very good chance of being a new record high. That will more than make up for the lost rabbit's compensation."

"What about a male hunter? Can he be sold at the auction too?"

"You're talking about James Calhoun, who is currently tied up in your trailer. Yes, as soon as you bring him in, you can sign for him as well. We usually cater to those who prefer female slaves, but we still have nearly two weeks. That's plenty of time to send out a Special Alert Bulletin. That should draw some interest. I think you'll get a fair price for him, if you want to sell him. In both cases, because of their considerable wealth and social standing as hunters I suspect there will be many who will want to bid on them-including friends and family members who may want to spare them a year of potential suffering. If you don't want to keep either of them for yourself, you may consider offering them freedom in exchange for a counter-offer of their own. Then enter them in the auction with that counter offer as a minimum bid. I think you'll be surprised at how much they'll offer when they don't know what others will be willing to offer."

"I don't think I can afford to keep either of them," Fanni said sadly. It would have been interesting to keep Suzy. She was a very attractive lady, and after all the things she said about buying Fanni... well it would have been nice.

"Why not?" Renaldo asked with a puzzled frown.

"The only reason I signed up for this... thing was because I have a considerable amount of debts."

"Yes," Renaldo said, "I'm familiar with your situation Miss Adams. But you do have other winnings as well."

"Other winnings?"

"Well," Renaldo said. "As a team, Mrs. Parker and Mr. Hamilton had captured three rabbits. Since they now belong to you, so do those rabbits. And don't forget the million dollar grand prize. Of course, you'll have to pay the hundred thousand dollar entrance fee if you want to claim your winnings as a hunter. But I'm sure you'll make a lot more than that at the auction. Also, as the house, we get 10% of anything you make at the auction.

"If you like, however, I can teach you how to protect your earnings in an off-shore banking account so that, if you decide to return to America, you won't have to pay taxes on any of it. Not unless you want to, keep things on a more ethical footing. I can help you there too, since the U.S. doesn't practice double taxation on earnings made in foreign countries. My little island has the legal status of an independent nation, and since I depend on things like hunter registration (and various other fees) to keep my island government going, all of your expenses can be deducted legitimately. Any competent accountant can help you with these things, but if you want my personal help, just let me know."

"I can't believe this is really happening," Fanni said. "Ten minutes ago I thought I was about to end up in a holding cell, waiting to be sold."

"Trust me," Renaldo said, "I'm rather surprised by these turn of events myself. I intentionally wrote the Hunting Season by-laws with just this sort of possibility in mind, but I never really expected a rabbit to pull it off. Honestly, I'm totally in awe of what you've accomplished."

Fanni was so overwhelmed that she burst out laughing, but she didn't have any idea what to say. Finally she looked down at the folder Renaldo had pushed towards her earlier. "Is that the paperwork?"

"It is," he admitted, "but before we get started on that I have just one question, if you don't mind."

Fanni nodded her agreement, not knowing what else to do.

"When you had that little run in with Mrs. Heisenbaucher-I think you know her as Karen-you backed down initially from a fight. But later, you set your camp up next to hers and when the hunters chased you, you ran towards her camp; and when you saw her you even knocked her down so the hunting dogs would be upon her before she could get back up."

"Is there a question in there?"

Renaldo chuckled. "I was just wondering if you did all that on purpose."

"I knocked her down on purpose!"

"I know that," Renaldo said with a mischievous grin. "What I want to know is if you camped out close to her and then ran towards her, in order to intentionally take a hostile rival out of play? Because if that's really what you did, it was very clever! But it wasn't very nice."

"It's a rabbit eat rabbit world," Fanni said with a laugh. "Besides, I think she kind of deserved it."

"I can't argue with that," Renaldo said with a chuckle of his own.


12 - Sold at Auction

"Now that the slave swapping portion of the auction is over," Renaldo said from his place on the stage, "we will begin the auction proper.

"Today we have a very rare and special offering. As many of you are aware, Mistress Fanni, (who was one of this year's rabbits) managed to capture, not just one but two hunters and bring them in. This is a totally unprecedented even. In all of Hunting Season's previous years, we have never had a grand prize winner, let alone a rabbit who became a hunter. However, if you've read the fine print on your contracts, you know that being captured by a rabbit means that you become the rabbit and they become a hunter.

"Mistress Fanni has agreed to take a position here on my island, working as one of my slave trainers, and she has chosen to keep one of her ex-hunter rabbits-for her own pleasure. However, she has graciously agreed to donate this slave as a performer during next year's inaugural ball, so I encourage you all to come again next year to see what we've thought up for former hunter, Mrs. Parker.

"In addition to this generosity, Mistress Fanni has offered to sell the second of her captured rabbits at today's auction. And here he is! Some of you may remember him as James Terrell. He is presented here today with a starting minimum bid of ten point five million dollars. That's quite a bit higher than our typical rabbit, but keep in mind that Mr. Terrell has a net worth that is well over 100 million. It's not often you'll have an opportunity to own someone as powerful and rich."

"If you are interested, you may place your bids now. The current high-bid will always appear in the top right corner of your screen and the bidding will last for five minutes.

"While we wait for the bidding to end, let me point out a few of Mr. Terrell's more attractive features. Aside from his power and wealth, he has (what I have been told by several women) is a very nice body..."

Fanni turned her attention from the stage and looked at Suzy who was bound to a low chair beside her. She was gagged with a large O-ring. Each of her ankles had a padded leather cuff around them, and lengths of rope had been tied to the uprights of the seat's back. Normally, this would have force Suzy's legs to spread wide, making room for the flat seat beneath her-but Fanni hadn't allowed that. She'd pulled Suzy forward on the seat, so her ass was barely resting on the edge. Then she'd tied her legs together loosely at the knees. This had required Renaldo's assistance, for it forced Suzy back into a severe arch. In fact, if her arms hadn't been secured to the seat's back, Suzy wouldn't have been able to maintain her current position for long; and without Renaldo to keep Suzy from flopping forward while she was being tied, she would have flopped forward, face-first onto the floor. To prevent this from happening now, Fanni had hooked Suzy's arms over the back of the chair before connecting Suzy's wrist and ankle cuffs with lengths of rope. Being tied like this keep kept Suzy balanced precariously on the edge of her chair. It was (in effect) a suspension hog tie, but with her ass pushed forward by the edge of the seat, instead of by gravity.

Next, Fanni had fit Suzy with a leather belt, about 2 inches wide, which she tightened rather snuggly around her waist. A thinner strap ran between her legs-although Fanni had forced two vibrators deep inside her orifices before threading that thinner strap between the lips of Suzy's pussy and buckling it tight. The strap forced the vibrators deeper inside Suzy and caused her pussy lips to flare out around the leather. Then, the whole uncomfortable arrangement was finished off with a variation on those bar maid's platters that usually hang from the nipples. This one was balanced on a flexible stand that was centered in the middle of Suzy's waist belt. The platter itself was positioned at about the same level as her breasts. A small chain with alligator clips at either end had been threaded through a ring on the edge of the platter and then attached to her breasts. The ring on the other side of the platter was tied to the ropes holding Suzy's knees together.

The chair itself had wheels on the back legs so that Suzy could be wheeled around, easily allowing Fanni to position her slave wherever she wanted. And, because the chair was so low to begin with, the tray was at just the right high to make a perfect tray for Fanni's drinks and hors d'oeuvres.

"Better not spill that drink," Fanni said. She hadn't filled her drink very full, precisely because she didn't think Suzy could manage to stay still in her current position, and the woman was proving her right. Fortunately, the position was so tight that even when Suzy struggled it didn't cause the glass to move all that much. Still, she was squirming with such constant vigor that the liquid in the glass had begun to slosh back and forth just a little.

Fanni couldn't tell if the new level of effort was because the woman's back and legs ached from maintaining the position for so long-or whether it was a side-effect of the vibrators buzzing inside her. Frankly Fanny didn't care. Either way, she loved to watch Suzy move around as her ecstatic agony built.

"Want a drink," Fanni asked with a smirk. "It might numb things enough to make it more bearable?"

"Hwuck eu," Suzy said through her ring gag.

Fanni smiled. "You've said that before; it's becoming a little redundant. And it's not even true. It seems to me that you're the one who's going to get fucked. I have your services for the next year, and I plan to make good use of them. But I guess you were right about one thing: you said that one of us would end up owning the other-you just got things a little backwards." Fanni set her drink down on the platter and thumbed up the speed on the vibrators just a little, watching as Suzy's face contorted and her muscles tensed.

"You should feel honored," Fanni said, "I could have made you an offer the same way I did your Buddy James, you know. The only reason I didn't is because I like you so much."

"Eu hwucking which," Suzy groaned, closing her eyes as another climax continued to built.