13. Audrey
AUDREY
I walked over to the mechanical bull. I was in their world now.
The Bulls’ world.
I’d signed the consent form, had entered the Hunt of my own free will knowing what it meant to hand myself over to one of the teams of masked men even if I hadn’t been privy to the details.
Now I was naked, being ordered around by the three men in bull masks who seemed intent on humiliating me.
There was nothing to do but take it a step at a time.
The mechanical bull was bigger up close, its back even with the top of my head.
“How do I…”
“Use the stirrups.” I recognized the voice of the Carver behind me.
“Unless you want one of us to help you up,” the familiar one said.
“I’ll pass.”
I eyed the mechanical beast’s stirrups but forced myself not to look back at the three men who’d captured me. I didn’t want to consider their viewpoint, didn’t want to know exactly how much of my ass — and everything else — they were going to see when I climbed onto the bull.
Putting my foot in the stirrup was a humiliation ritual all its own. My ass cheeks spread wide, every ounce of cellulite in my body jiggling as I held onto the horn on the bull’s saddle and hoisted myself up and over its back.
It was harder than it looked, but being a doctor required more upper body strength than most people expect, and a few seconds later, I was settled into the mechanical bull’s built in saddle.
I felt ridiculous, like someone cosplaying a nude, western-style Joan of Arc.
But one look at the three bulls made it clear ridiculous wasn’t the word they were thinking about as they stared up at me.
Lust was evident in their gazes, locked hungrily on my naked body, and I was mortified to realize I was wet, the mechanical bull’s saddle slippery with my desire.
Jesus fucking christ.
“Satisfied?” I asked them.
“You have to ride it,” the familiar one said.
I’d come to realize he was younger than the other two, much younger than Oak Tree but younger than the Carver too.
It took me a few seconds to realize what he meant.
What could I say? My normally quick-thinking brain was short circuiting.
I glared at them. “You aren’t seriously going to turn this thing on?”
“You aren’t really riding a thing if it isn’t moving now are you?” Oak Tree said.
I fumbled through the file in my mind labeled logic for an answer and couldn’t find one.
“I don’t know how to ride a bull,” I said. “Isn’t the humiliation enough?”
“What humiliation?” The Carver sounded genuinely confused.
“The humiliation of making me climb on this thing naked.”
His heated gaze raked my body. “Humiliation isn’t the word that comes to mind when I see you straddling that bull.”
I hated the fact that my nipples got hard, my pussy wetter.
“What if I fall off?” I couldn’t think about what would happen next, what would come after the tunnels.
I just wanted this part over.
“You’re not going to fall off,” the younger one said. “Trust us.”
I scowled down at them. “Trust you? Trust you? Why on earth would I trust three men who have been hunting me through these tunnels? Three men who made me take off my clothes and climb on to this… this thing.”
“Have we given you a reason not to trust us?” Oak Tree said. “Lied to you? Tricked you?”
I didn’t have to think too hard about the answer to come up with it.
“No, but— ”
“But?” Oak Tree prompted.
“Trust is earned. I don’t know you, and I sure as hell don’t trust you.”
“Be that as it may,” Oak Tree said, “you’re going to have to ride.”
I sighed. “Fine. Just… get it over with.”
They stepped back a few feet to lean against the tunnel wall and the Carver removed something from his pocket.
“Hang on tight now,” he said.
“Grab the horn between your legs,” the younger one chimed in.
“I’ve got it,” I said through gritted teeth.
The horn was huge. I wrapped both hands around it and a few seconds later a mechanical whirring sound came from within the beast between my thighs.
The bull lurched to life, rocking forward and back.
The motion surprised me even as I’d expected it, and I held tighter to the horn on the saddle as the bull picked up speed a little at a time.
I was vulnerable and exposed, but I was too busy hanging on, too busy waiting for the bull to increase its speed to give it much thought.
When the bull’s speed tapered off, I realized it was manageable, the bull rocking back and forth in an exaggerated motion that was slow enough to make me feel secure in the saddle.
But now I had another problem: I was turned on.
The slide between my thighs had grown wetter and hotter. The bull nestled deeper between my thighs with every rock, rubbing against my clit, and an orgasm sparked to life at my center.
My tits bounced as I rode, my nipples hard and sensitive, my humiliation warring with the sudden need to come.
Then I looked over at the three masked bulls and my lust flared into a full-fledged bonfire.
Because I wasn’t the only one who was turned on.
Oak Tree stood with his back against the tunnel wall, his eyes glued on my body, his dick hard enough to be obvious in his jeans while the Carver rubbed at his erection through his pants.
And the younger one wasn’t worried about being polite: he’d unzipped his jeans and was stroking his dick in his hand as he watched me ride the mechanical bull.
“Fuck yes,” he said. “You know how to ride.”
“I think our new filly might be ready to come,” Oak Tree said.
“She’s not the only one.” The Carver was still rubbing his dick through the fabric of his pants. “Goddamn.”
It was so subversive. So wrong.
And so fucking hot.
In my real life I would have been outraged. I would have demanded respect, would have told them to grow up and stop acting like animals.
Except now I felt like the animal.
Lustful.
Hungry.
Primitive.
The real world — the world where I was a doctor who’d clawed my way through med school — seemed so far away it may as well have been a fiction.
Here I was someone else, someone wanton and bold.
Someone who wanted to come while these three masked men watched me ride their bull. Someone who wanted them to come too.
“Play with your tits.”
I was almost surprised when the order came from Oak Tree. He seemed like a man of few words, a man who didn’t let on when he wanted something.
But I was more surprised by my own reaction, by the fact that I cupped my tits in my hands, that I pinched my nipples between my fingers.
A shot of pleasure rushed to my cunt.
I moaned, gasping as I gave up and reached for the orgasm my body promised, watching the youngest masked bull stroke his thick cock as the mechanical beast stroked my clit with every lurch of its steel body.
“That’s what I’m talking about,” he said. “We can come together.”
The Carver held up the small black remote the youngest one had pulled from his jeans and the bull kicked up a notch, picking up speed. It did wild things to my body, the bull pressing against the slit of my pussy, the saddle grinding faster on my clit.
“Oh god…” The words were torn from my mouth before I could stop them.
I hated it. Hated that these masked men — these strangers — were seeing me this way. But there was no hope of stopping it. My body was a runaway train, careening toward release whether I liked it or not.
I worked with the movements of the mechanical bull, reaching for the release promised by the mounting pressure at my core.
My eyes were locked onto the three men watching me, the younger one stroking his engorged shaft faster, like he could feel my building orgasm while the two bulls stood by, faces hidden by their masks, bodies coiled with tension they couldn’t hide.
The subversiveness of the situation — the men in masks, one of them masturbating while I rode the mechanical bull naked — should have ben cold water on any sexual desire.
Instead my body was on fire, lust raging through every nerve as I came closer to climax on the steel beast between my thighs.
I gripped the bull’s horn tighter as the orgasm filled me up from the inside out, afraid I might fall off when it washed over me. Then it was spilling over, my body shuddering as it took hold, a cry of surprise and pure pleasure escaping from my lips.
A groan emerged from the younger bull leaning against the wall as he came in his hand, his semen spurting onto the floor, his eyes still locked on my body.
“Fuck yes, doc… ride that fucking bull.”
The words were like a hot wind on the pleasure coursing through my body and I gave myself over to the release, goose bumps rising on my skin as I came and came, the orgasm wringing every last bit of pleasure from my body.
I was limp and sweating when it was over, barely able to hold on to the bull’s horn, my thighs sticky on the beast’s saddle.
I closed my eyes, both humiliated and spent.
The bull stopped moving.
When I opened my eyes, the Carver was standing next to the bull.
“Come on now,” he said.
I changed position so that I was side-saddle on the mechanical bull, then tried to pull back when the Carver reached for my waist.
“No reason to be shy. We’ll get to know each other real well.”
There was a promise in his words that was both terrifying and delicious, and I found myself reaching for him, bracing myself on his shoulders, allowing him to pull me off the bull.
He was less intimidating now: a man in a mask, albeit an enormous man in a terrifying mask.
He lifted me off the bull like I weighed nothing at all and deposited me firmly on the ground.
Oak Tree walked over and handed over my clothes. “You can get dressed now.”
Their solicitousness was somehow insulting after what they’d witnessed, and I snatched my clothes from his hands and held them in front of my body.
“How chivalrous,” I snapped.
To my surprise, he actually seemed to consider the sarcastic insult.
“There’s a time for chivalry and a time for fucking,” he said. “It’ll be best for everyone if you don’t expect chivalry when we’re making you come. Now get dressed so we can take you home.”