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Jack Ridley
Member
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Posted: Sun Aug 31st, 2008 10:21 am |
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I drove up to the camp where the girls were held before processing and parked my aged jeep. Then I got my rifle case and backpack out of the back and walked to the main office. It was a pretty pathetic site, the office. Before the plague it had been a school cafeteria but now AP 10 or ten years after the plague it was the main office for the camp and processing center. Now, that all men were sterile and the human race was dying out there wasn’t any point to the gentler sex except FOR sex and…well, there was the other problem as well.
The plague that sterilized human males also killed virtually all game animals from the face of the earth. In fact, the whole world was dying. Outside of vegetables and grains and fruits there just wasn’t any decent flesh to eat. No people and no animals were being replaced. It was a nightmare. For those of us who survived, we did so only by being the most brutal and the most resourceful.
My kind of male, the ones who would have been on the police force, in the military, or in prison in the old days, now ran the show. The first men to be gunned down were the eggheads, the scholars, the accountants, the artists, all those who couldn’t fight and didn’t have the heart to kill in cold blood.
At some point early on it was realized that women would no longer be mothers and there would be no more children. At some point women became a replacement for the animals that no longer roamed the countryside waiting to be hunted and killed. They became a replacement for the livestock that no one could raise any more. They became our meat.
Mankind and womankind went through denial, grief, and acceptance. Many women, realizing that sentient life on earth was dying, accepted their fate and even volunteered to be food. But, others, particularly those who had grown up in this mess, were not so inclined.
After the volunteers were dispatched and became food for thousands of men left alive but with no hope of seeing a new generation, the women that were left, the young girls who had grown to maturity during the plague, fought back. They wanted to live. It was an unwritten rule that you didn’t eat a female until she was of legal age, although that hardly mattered, but it was a way of maintaining some order and some last vestige of compassion and decency.
The young women ran, hid, formed societies in the wilderness, living a vegetarian lifestyle, although some took to killing and eating other girl groups. But, for the most part, they fought back futilely or headed to the hills. These were my job to round up. There were other girlhunters like myself all over the world. But, I had this little spot of hell for myself. It was my bailiwick.
The females in this interment camp were housed and treated very well. We still wanted sex. We still wanted sex in all of its glorious demeaning ways. There was no fear of pregnancy and we couldn’t have cared less about a disease. After all, in a few years we’d all be dead anyway. There was no hope for a cure because we had killed all of those men with the brains or the inclination to find one.
We cleaned the females, shaved them, put make up on them, raped them, sometimes brutally, humiliated, and enjoyed them until they were selected to be killed and eaten. We knew we’d run out eventually but then we knew we’d die, as well, so it didn’t much matter.
As I walked slowly by the open air exercise yard I could see them. Fear or resignation to their fate or that foolish human ability to hope that something might just save them were written all over their faces. I had stopped feeling a man’s compassion for a crying female or a hurt female two hundred rapes and a hundred cooked carcesses ago. They were not much more than animals to me. Unlike animals, though, they provided sexual thrills as well. Fucking and eating all sort of started to run together for me as if the act of sex had always been about killing the female and eating her when it was over.
There was a girl standing naked in the pen, like the others, just looking at me. She was innocent looking, and I could hardly believe she was of legal age, but I had to trust the keepers who rounded them up initially, to know what they were doing. The records were still intact, the evidence was easy to obtain. It is what it is. She had to be 18. She was of Asian ethnicity. I would have said, perhaps Filipina. She caught my eye with her beauty, simple, innocent as I said, without blemish, slight of build, or as they used to say, a mere slip of a girl.
Her large brown eyes, that black hair, and that wonderful hue of her skin made me want to fuck her but there was something else, an intelligence. She looked smart, like she had a brain. This was no ignorant young woman. She probably did real well in school, had a high grade point average. She probably could carry on a good conversation with you about almost any subject. Hell, she might have even gone on to be a scientist and saved the world.
But, she wasn’t going to have the chance to do that. She was going to go on and be in my stomach if I had my way. I wanted that one gutted and killed tonight, perhaps after I had some fun with her. I hadn’t had sex for several days, since several of us gang raped that blonde back at the airport they’d been holding. We kept fucking her after she was dead, too. She was still good. Then, they gutted her and prepared her and we had a cookout. It was a nice day.
The girl just kept looking at me. She had a number 2534 hanging around her neck. I strode up to the officer running the paperwork.
“Hi, Jack”, he said to me casually, “what’s cooking?”
I pointed toward 2534 and said, “What’s that one’s name?”
He looked at me quizzically, “What does her name matter, Jack? Women don’t have names and they don’t have rights. They’re animals. And she’s just another soon to be dead animal.” He looked harder at the pen. “Which one, Jack?”
I said, “2534. Get her out. I want to fuck her and then you can kill her and feed the masses, send her carcass to the store. Cut her up in bits. People can have steaks, burgers, tongue, liver, whatever. But I want to play with her.”
The officer looked at me for a second. “Jack, what have you got against innocence. Look at her. She’s barely 18. She doesn’t even understand what’s going on. Just let us process her. Have a heart.”
“What’s her name” I insisted? He looked up her number.
“Her name is Maribel. She’s 18. You want me to take her to one of the bed sheds?”
The bed sheds were where we girlhunters rested when we weren’t out looking for girls. As it was, a lot of women died in those sheds, brutally and without mercy, after having been raped repeatedly in ever orifice. Some girlhunters made a point of showing their victims how much they were non-humans now, how totally unimportant their lives were. And, they did it because they enjoyed it.
I nodded and walked away. The officer went off to get a man to bring the girl. I could feel her staring at me as I walked away. I was going to make her suffer like she had never ever imagined.
As I got a drink of water and registered my arrival I heard some commotion behind me. Something was going on. There was some shouting and then for a millisecond I saw a blur run out of the building, a naked blur. If I wasn’t mistaken it was a naked girl running.
The officer came to me out of breath, “Damn, Jack, she’s quick. She ran. She got out of the building. She’s gone for the woods.”
“Fucking idiot”, I said disgusted as I threw down my empty cup and took my rifle out of its case. “That sort of ruins my sexual appetite. Now, I’m just going to kill her.”
I threw my pack over my back with my own water, food, and ammo, hoisted the rifle and started out the door. There was no hurry. She would tire soon enough and I’d find her hunched next to a tree crying. She’d beg me not to kill her, offer me her sexual favors in return for mercy, and then I would just blow her away and bring her body back in time for the evening meal.
Her petite and graceful feet had left their marks in the wet ground, but just barely. I could see that she headed straight for the forest and would be hard to track. I just had to follow until I heard the little bitch crying, I know.
An hour later, I still heard nothing. This one was smart. She was clever. She wasn’t going to fall apart. I’d have to earn my pay with this girl. I slowed down and searched for a trail. After a time I could smell human urine. She had stopped to take a piss. I’d like to have seen that. I smiled.
It took another hour before I caught sight of her. She was tired. She was trying to climb a hill to get into the deeper forest on the other side. I put her in my scope. She was pretty, so young, so tender, even sweet looking. Watching her nubile form and those supple muscles moving beneath that pretty skin made me hot. I drew her in closer to watch her legs pumping up the hill, her young, firm, sweet ass moving. She turned to look in my direction, not seeing me. Her small pert breasts and those dark nipples and that cute determined face made me almost regret what I had said about not raping her. But, if you let one or two go for a long time then others might think they could also run.
She had a long way to get to the top of the hill so I enjoyed watching her go up. She was still in range. Finally, enough was enough. I lowered my rifle and set her in the scope. The crosshairs were on her back. Just as I was about to squeeze the trigger she turned one last time to look in my direction. The round caught her right in the belly and the force threw her back, knocking her flat on the ground. She was mine.
It took me a few minutes to get up to her. The pretty little girl was writhing, wallowing in her own blood, crying and moaning, her hands over the hole in her belly. Blood was pouring out through her graceful fingers that covered the wound. Her face was contorted in pain. She was pleading with me, mouthing the words, shoot me. Most of what came out of her mouth as she squirmed on the ground was grunts and groans. She, her pretty little body that looked like a piece of candy to me, was dying.
It was time to prepare her for the return hike to the camp. I wasn’t interested in her suffering. She’d die soon enough. After all, she’s just a fucking woman, nothing of value, except for food, now. I wrapped the rope around her ankles tightly and hoisted her upside down over a tree limb. Her beautiful black hair hung down and she didn’t have the strength to try to pull herself up. The blood coming from her wound was now running down between her breasts and onto her throat, then face.
She was in shock now. Soon, she’d die. I took my hunting knife out and in one motion simply cut her throat. Blood poured from the wound. She coughed and spasmed a second or two and then was still. I checked her pulse. She was dead. Choking back thoughts of laying her out and fucking her corpse, I wrapped her up in a body bag and threw her over my shoulder.
Finally, back at the camp, after admonishing the officer for his dereliction of duty, I took Maribel into the kitchen and laid her out on a stainless steel table. After removing her from the bag I washed her off. With no heartbeat, she wasn’t bleeding now. Other than the wounds she looked so pretty, so harmless, and my desire once again rose within me. But, no, not this time. The hunt had made me tired. I need a nap. There were plenty more bitches to rape. I wanted to process this one myself first.
I turned her on her side and took my knife and started cutting from her sternum to her pubic bone. Pulling and cutting out her guts I placed the edible things in a tray and threw the rest in a bucket to be tossed out with the rest of the garbage. Once she was empty I laid her back on her back. I couldn’t take my eyes off that sweet face. But, I felt nothing. She was an animal, that’s all.
Taking the spit pole, I pushed the sharpened end into her tight little pussy and worked it in with my hand inside her body to guide it through. Once I got it to her chest cavity I repeated the procedure to get it out through her throat and then her mouth. She lay there with this eight foot pole rammed through her petite, tasty little body.
I filled the body with oranges, vegetables, and cooking solutions for taste. There were no animals left so putting a partly cooked chicken inside of her for flavor like we used to do wasn’t gonna happen. Still, as I stroked her soft skin and pinched her I knew she’d be a delicious morsel.
Finally, I carefully sewed her up, tied her hands and feet to the pole and had the guys place her over the fire they had prepared. We turned her and basted her carefully over the next few hours. Well, they did. I took a nap. When I came back she was turning a golden brown. I took a fork and knife and cut a hunk of flesh off of her ass and tasted it. Man, she was juicy and I was right, she was going to be tasty.
That night, as I carved hunks of Maribel’s meat and ate I thought about the girls I would hunt tomorrow. Some day there would be no more pretty little things to hunt and kill. One day we would all be dead. I stroked her cooked thigh. Don’t fret, Maribel, we’re all going where you are one day. I chuckled and chewed her flesh.
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