HORROR3B.TXT The Buck, or Watch Where You Hunt.. Variation on a theme #2 Version 2.0 - By SwampRat (C) 1989 The Brotherhood Of Pan There was a sign, that read "This is a private wilderness area. Do not enter. We do not take nor assume any responsibility for your safety." The man laughed. Who the hell were they trying to scare? Well, he was going to hunt in there, whether anybody liked it or not. Parking his truck, the man shouldered his gun and set off.. It didn't take long to find game either. A beautiful 6 point... It stood in the bushes, as if waiting. Well you won't have to wait long, he thought. The hunter lined the cross-hairs on the fore-leg of the animal, and squeezed gently. The 30-06 barked. As he expected, the deer went down, as if somebody had pulled it's legs out from under it. He grinned, and set his rifle against the tree... Then he watched, not believing his own eyes, as the creature stood back up again. His instincts told him something was wrong, Very wrong... There was no blood! He knew he had hit the deer, so why wasn't there any.. The hairs on the back of his neck went up as the buck turned it's head and looked up at him. He picked up his binoculars, and stared at the animal. The eyes blazed, but not with life... More like those glass ones they put on stuffed animals. His eyes trailed down what he could see of the hairy neck, and stopped at the shoulder. The bullet had passed through the animal, leaving a clean hole the size of a quarter. Then the light shifted and his jaw dropped. He could see the ground on the other side of the creature, through the wound! Nothing could have lived through that, unless... There are some things the human mind can't think about and stay rational. So his did the same thing all minds do when confronted with something horrendous, It ran! The only problem was his feet seemed to rebel against the thought. "What? After coming all this way?? Not without a good reason!" Ask for something and you will get it, even if it isn't exactly what you wanted. The deer stepped out from out of the cover, and started towards him. Burned between the perfect antlers was a strange symbol. Even though it looked old, no hair had grown around it. The last straw that fired his clay feet into appendages again, was two observations. Even though it was a warm day and the animal was struggling up a steep hill, it neither sweated, or panted. That wasn't half as bad as the realization that the ribs weren't moving... The creature wasn't breathing! The man forgot about the gun, about his pack, about everything but running. He tripped, fell, and sobbing, pulled himself up to run again. Branches lashed his face, and he clawed at them blindly, not caring if they cut his hands, not worrying about twisting his ankle. All he wanted was to put distance between his body and the thing. He abruptly stopped, panting... Not six feet in front of him, the monster waited. No... No... NO!!! His bladder gave way, staining the front of his jeans, as excrement made a slimy mess out his underwear. He screamed, and turning, ran stumbling back the way he came. His leg caught on a root, and he clawed at his belt, ripping a finger nail, as he undid the zipper, and snapped the fastener off. He jumped out of the smelly cloth, and fell flat on his face. He twisted, and pulled his boots out of the leg holes, just as the monster came around a large tree, a few paces away. The panicked human scuttled backwards, on his ass. Then he pulled the ruined undergarment off, and threw it at the apparition. Free again, he took off at dead trot.. Even adrenalin only holds out so far, and when the human's supply dwindled, he dropped, and not even the sounds made by the animal coming closer could make him do much more than crawl. The hunter fell, ribs screaming for relief. He could only whimper, when two fore-legs appeared on either side of him. Something furry rubbed his back, and a dry nose pressed against his neck, a tongue slid across the sweaty flesh. He shuddered, then his eyes opened wide, and he yelped, as a large pointed object slid through his shit-caked buttocks, and forced it's way up his anus. For some reason that struck him funny, So he giggled. Then he laughed. The hunter twisted his head to one side and looked the creature smoothly sliding it's penis into his neither end. "Enjoying yourself fella?" He laughed hysterically as the buck licked the side of his face. Being butt-fucked by a dead buck... Hey, That rhymes! He threw back his head and howled, then choked as a long tongue wandered into his mouth. His mind chased itself for a moment, then the pleasure of having his prostrate gland stroked interrupted his madness. Wait a minute... You aren't supposed to be liking this! But mentalities don't like loose ends. He was feeling illicit pleasure, which brought out the guilt associated with such things, and he latched onto it like an anchor. 'Of course, I'm being punished. This creature is my retribution...' Now that the personality had unraveled all the problems, and put them neatly into one package, it could start milking this occasion for all the pleasure it could get. Which was considerable.. A thought chased itself around his mind. If it was dead, would it cum? Apparently not. That didn't stop it from shoving it's desiccated muzzle into his ribs. Nor from sliding the driest tongue the man hoped never to feel again, across his own cock. He grunted, lifting up at the insistent pressure. Teeth bit into the swelled head. Then the penis was sucked into a dry mouth. Not having to breathe, the creature gave him head like no one had before.. At least no one living. The suction was non-stop, a dry nose rubbing his hair. The tongue rasped, rolling the fat maleness against the roof on the animal's mouth. The hunter shuddered, a hoof rubbing his swelling balls against the furry ones. He howled, cock throbbing, as ejaculate poured down the gullet. It vanished, throat muscles milking the scum out his churning nuts. The willowy penis in his ass stroked his prostrate expertly, giving more lascivious pleasure to the being who rubbed a shoulder against the fore-leg bent across it. When neither the cock or the mouth could coax any more semen out, teeth pulled the dregs out of the flaccid penis. It took one last lick, then stepped back. The last thing the hunter heard before he ran shrieking for the safety of his vehicle, was a reedy voice, Dry as dust.. "Master enjoy mating?" The monster looked at him, the stepped forward, ready to shove it's shit-caked dick into his mouth, and try again.. The man didn't even wait to open the door, instead he dived through the open window, and rolled it up so hard, the glass cracked. Started the machine, jammed the gears, and literally flew out of the area.. The man awoke. "What a horrible dream.." He whistled, making breakfast. There was a new place he heard about. Some sort of private reserve.. The End?