This post is about being hunted and chased and why the thought of being the prey sends my kinky heart into overdrive. It deals with themes around fear, being pursued and consensual non-consent.
“Fields and soil and trees in every direction. We are in the middle of nowhere.
One word. That’s all he says. He shunts my shoulder and says it again.
And I do.”
~ Jade West
Oh how I wish I could say I wrote that but I didn’t. It is from the brilliant, Bait by Jade West. I mean come on, just the title makes me widen my eyes at the thought of what that word suggests. The main characters in this book find each other as a result of their shared hunter/prey kink. I won’t say any more but the plot is brilliant. Yes it is filthy but there is whole storyline around their shared kink and if you have a hunter/prey, being pursued kink then you should definitely read this book. Rarely does a spicy book have me aching with the need for an orgasm but this book managed to do that more than once. One word of warning though, if you don’t like extreme penile piercings then it might be too much for you but if not, then damn this book is good and Jade West captures the anticipation, thrill of the chase and the capture to perfection.
Hunter/prey is one of those kinks that I find hard to formulate into a coherent thought because so much of it works for me that combing all the elements of it into one piece seems impossible. I have written one hunting piece; Such fun to play with, which definitely captures some of the elements of this kink and being pursued for me but it still lack something too. I think it is the rawness of it and how the thought of being chased/[pursued makes me feel both excited but also scared and vulnerable.
There is something about the thought of being pursued rushing, charging through the fields and woods, thrashing through the undergrowth, trying to find cover in the density of the woods that literally makes my heart race in my chest. The shadows are both my friends and my enemy. Their potential to hide me also mean they are potential places for him to hide and wait until I step right into his arms.
I am breathless, fear and adrenaline makes my heart pound in my chest even though I am crouching here in the dirt. Every noise makes me jump. Is that him. someone else, an animal. Should I stay here, should I run? Does running drawn attention to me but also sitting here waiting for him to find me seems to passive. My body is screaming, run, run but my brain is trying to say, be clever, think!
It feels inevitable that he will catch me and yet the competitive part of me wants to be smart enough, quiet enough, devious enough to elude him. I know I can’t out run him my only hope is to be small, quiet, patient. The thought of managing to get out, to get home. To leave him searching until eventually he realises I have outsmarted him makes me grin. The door banging open, the look on his face when he finds me snuggled up warm and dry on the sofa. There is silence for a moment and I know I am about to pay a price for outwitting him. In for a penny, in for a pound and so I say
“What took you so long?”
He catches me right there in the woods. Its rough and brutal. A vicious taking that leaves me sore and bruised or another time he has come prepared setting up a little camp with rope and a seat for him so he can sit and watch me fight and squirm in-between using me for his pleasure. After all if you have hunted and caught your prey you might as well enjoy it thoroughly
I am always dirty, knees and hands, my clothes get torn and cut, there are grazes on my legs and face where I have struggled through the bushes or fallen in my haste to get away.
When I walk the dog I often see places that ideal for being pursued, imagine it here, being held down in the dust and dirt of this tiny underpass, or dragged into the undergrowth at the top of the fields. The sound of my breath filling my ears as I run or his breath in my ear as he catches up with me before finally sweeping me off my feet, strong arms wrapping round my waist, or hands grabbing at my arms. I turn to fight, arms flailing as I try, in panic, to fend him off. For a moment he pauses to admire the wild cat fight in me and if I paused too I would see in his eye, delight, excitement, determination. Then he takes me down.
Other times I hide….
It’s all inevitable though. Whatever scenario the conclusion is always inevitable . He always catches me in the end. The hunter always wins, the pursued is always caught and the prey is ALWAYS thoroughly consumed. Maybe even more than once.
Recently I have been contemplating the hunt in a more urban setting. It’s not something I had every thought about before until someone said to me, imagine me trailing you through the streets of London. Where would I catch up with you? Would you be a good girl and just come with me or would I have to persuade you?
It set my mind to imagining to hurrying through the street, dodging round the tourists who are slow and meandering. Constantly glancing back to see if he is closing on me. I know this part of London so well, but again, I am torn, stick to the busy road but risk getting slowed down or disappear down the side streets, into the alleys and cut-throughs that only Londoners tend to know about. So I mix it up, at one point I am glancing back over my shoulder. He is not there, I try to catch my breath and press on but then I realise he is not behind me because some how he has managed to get in front of me and I walking straight to towards him. Just before it’s too late I dart up a side street, it’s quiet. I start to run. Is it my footsteps on the pavement I can hear or is it his?
As with the rural chase I know he will get me. I know secretly I want him to but not yet, I don’t want to be too easy. I want him to work for it and maybe be on the verge of irritated that it was slightly harder than he thought by the time he gets his hands on me.
I want to do it so badly. Just once, OK maybe twice, an urban and a rural one. I know it’s not an easy thing to do. It takes planning, thinking ahead. He HAS to know the ending, or at least have a damn good idea of it. Nothing can really be left to chance, well only me and how well I do, or don’t do.
I want to be pursued. To be hunted mercilessly. To be outwitted, out run, to be caught and to be used. I am the prey, you are the hunter. When do we start?