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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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The Hunting Cabin - A Halloween Story
by The Technician (technician666@gmail.com)
***
Halloween, in some form, exists in all cultures. Four
couples spending an evening at a remote hunting cabin on
a lake find out what the last full moon before the snow
times meant to the peoples who inhabited the land
"before the war." (MF-cpls, v, forced, whipping,
historical, fantasy, halloween)
***
Author Note: All of my writing is intended for adults
over the age of 18 ONLY. Stories may contain strong or
even extreme sexual content. All people and events
depicted are fictional and any resemblance to persons
living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions,
situations, and responses are fictional ONLY and should
not be attempted in real life.
If you are under the age or 18 or do not understand the
difference between fantasy and reality or if you reside
in any state, province, nation, or tribal territory that
prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories,
please stop reading immediately and move to somewhere
that exists in the twenty-first century.
***
A group of friends and I were up at my cabin for an
extended weekend. It hadn't really been planned. Paula
and I... Paula is a local girl I have been seeing off
and on since a few years after I bought the cabin and
the lake it sits on... Paula and I were planning a quiet
fall weekend alone. Well, quiet if your definition of
quiet includes trying out some new erotic devices I have
been developing.
Most of what I make tends to be for bondage or
discipline, but Paula was more of an "overdrive the
senses" type of girl, and my new multiple frequency,
smart phone controlled vibrator could do exactly that.
When Josh called and said he was going to be in the area
and asked if the invitation to come out some weekend was
still open, I reluctantly said yes. I figured there
would still be plenty of time for me and Paula to play
with the new toys because Josh and Susan would probably
be spending a lot of their time testing some of my
pleasure to pain range of new items. Susan liked the
full range and the full range from pleasure to pain was
actually all pleasure to her.
Then Bill called with the same request. He said he
didn't know why the idea suddenly popped into his head,
but the thought of spending Halloween weekend at the
lake was very appealing. Bill and Keri run a restaurant
together. Not a whole lot of people like to go out for a
fine meal on Halloween, and business is very slow, so
they could leave things in the hands of the managers.
They are both excellent chefs and Keri also runs a small
cooking school. Like most gourmands, they appreciate new
ways of stimulating their senses and have been clients
of mine for some time. Since Josh and Susan were already
going to be here, I told him to come on up.
I almost answered the phone with "W's Hotel" when I saw
Mark's phone number on the caller ID. I am a suspicious
person by nature, and three calls within an hour, all
asking if the invitation for a weekend was still open
made me wonder. I even asked Mark, "You didn't happen to
arrange this with Josh or Bill did you?"
I could tell by the tone of his response he was being
sincere when he asked, "Who are they?"
Paula watched me speak with Mark. After I had hung up,
she laughed and said, "W, don't you know that some
coincidences are just meant to be?"
Personally, I don't believe in coincidences, but out of
politeness I returned Paula's laugh rather than express
my doubts and concerns.
All three couples arrived on Friday night relatively
late. My lake is not exactly in the middle of nowhere,
but from the top of the ridge, you can see nowhere from
here. We talked for while, had some drinks together, and
went to bed.
Saturday was rather warm for the last day of October.
The leaves were beautiful fall colors, the lake was calm
and the sky was clear. Late in the afternoon, Darlene
suggested, "Why don't we go over to the hunting cabin
for the evening. It's going to be a full moon tonight.
We could have a big campfire and watch the stars."
Mark, Darlene's current significant other, smirked. He
knew what she meant by "watch the stars." She wanted to
have sex on the beach or out in the woods at night. It
was one of her fantasies that she had talked about with
him several times. In the years I have known Darlene,
she has worn out four significant others. She keeps
trying to find a man who can keep up with her. I have
suggested that she date twins, or perhaps triplets. If
Mark starts lagging in the bedroom, I think she might
seriously consider it, but for now he was more than
capable of keeping up with her almost insatiable
desires.
It was going to be a beautiful night, and the lake was
calm, so I agreed. As nightfall came, there were eight
of us at "the hunting cabin" on the far west edge of my
lake. My pontoon boat was shoved securely into the beach
and tied to a tree. It had two strong spotlights on the
front and I could use the onboard radio to trigger the
strobe beacon on the dock at my cabin, so I had no
worries about getting back late at night. It had a very
well-stocked built in cooler and bar, but as "captain,"
I was going to have to limit my drinking until we got
back to my cabin.
"My cabin" is on the east shore of the lake. The hunting
cabin was one of the reasons I was able to buy all of
the land surrounding this lake. It has "a bad reputation
with local folk," or at least that is what they will
tell you in town.
Everyone around here knows exactly what you mean if you
say "the hunting cabin." They can describe it accurately
even if they, personally, have never seen it. It is
exactly round and was built out of heavy, very weathered
limestone. It has been around since "at least before the
war." It has never had electricity or water or, even
windows. I'm not even sure it ever had a roof, at least
there is no indication of rafter knocks. Maybe it had a
thatched roof that just set on top of it at one time.
The only thing I am certain of about the hunting cabin
is that it was built a long, long time ago... and there
is something special about the area where it sits. The
only date anyone assigns to it is "before the war." I'm
not exactly sure how long ago that was, because in this
area "before the war" can mean anything from before the
latest screw up in the mid-east to before the
revolutionary war of 1776 or even some Indian war before
that. Regardless of when it was, everyone who grew up
around here knows the story, so everyone thinks they
know which war is being talked about.
That may sound odd to some people, but in an area like
this there is something called a "communal memory."
Stories get passed on from parent to child or from older
child to younger child beginning very early in life. If
you grow up hearing the stories repeated again and
again, you start remembering them as if whatever it was
that happened, had happened to you in your lifetime.
Today is built on yesterday, and I have always made it
one of my priorities to know the stories of the local
communal memory. Perhaps that is one of the reasons why
I am accepted - or at least tolerated - in this tight
knit, isolated community that normally "doesn't cotton
to outsiders." That and the fact that I don't ask too
many questions and I never tell people what I think they
or the community ought to do.
One of the more interesting stories concerns "the
slanted bluff." Several different people have described
to me how a strong earthquake split the area and shifted
the course of the river. They said that the cliff that
used to be there slid off and kept going across the
undulating ground for almost a mile, forming an odd
shaped hill half-way across the valley. A geologist
friend of mine said that every word of that story is
true... except one minor fact. It happened about eight
thousand years ago, and "there is no way in hell these
people could even know about it, let alone have
witnessed it." Then he always adds, "But, damn, they
have their facts right."
I asked him how the local people could know that much
about it, and his scientific answer was, "It beats the
shit out of me. I would never have thought that great a
dynamic shift was even possible if you hadn't insisted I
test the rocks."
A few years ago an anthropologist came out here to
"study the people of this isolated area." She ended up
spending most of her time at Jake's Roadhouse because
none of the "natives" would talk to her. That's where I
met her. She was really bored one evening and we ended
up back at my place.
Our after sex pillow talk drifted somehow to communal
memories. I asked her if it was possible for a communal
memory to go back thousands of years. She said that it
could only happen if somehow there was a continuous
presence going back that far. She left two days later
after telling me that she didn't have a thousand years
to wait for someone here to talk to her.
It only took me a few years to meet Paula. I had
intentionally decided not to get involved with any of
the local girls, and have stuck to that intention. But
Paula was different. She heard that I was cleaning up
the area around the hunting cabin and asked me why I was
doing that. I told her, "I don't know, but there is
something special about that place. I get the feeling
that whatever is - or was - out there, deserves better."
She came out to help me clear brush and dig debris out
of the inside of the cabin. She even suggested that I
cover the inside with a smooth layer of clay mortar,
because "that is probably what it was once like." One
thing led to another and after a couple years we ended
up "involved."
Paula is a very difficult person to understand and even
harder to describe. If I had to sum her up in one
sentence, I would say that she is a very powerful woman
who keeps her true power very carefully hidden. She has
come to trust me and has filled me in on a lot of local
stories from this amazing communal memory.
The trip across the lake was totally smooth. We weren't
out on the lake to party or fish, so I took the direct
route. When we got to the hunting cabin, the first thing
we did was gather up a bunch of firewood. I started to
lay out a fire in the fire ring I had built a few
summers ago, but Paula said, "No, it needs to go there,"
and pointed to a spot about ten feet in front of the
doorway to the cabin. "That way," she explained, "the
fire will be visible from anywhere in the lodge and you
will be able to see it through the windows from anywhere
on the lake."
I had never noticed that about the arrangement of the
doors and windows, but I built the fire where Paula had
suggested. After I got the fire going, we cooked some
burgers over the flames. I limited myself to one beer,
but everyone else, except Paula, was going through my
supply fairly rapidly. After it was dark, with only the
light of the fire and the glow of the rising moon,
Darlene informed Mark that she wanted to go walk on the
beach and look at the stars. With a full moon, almost no
stars were visible, but I don't think Mark was going to
be looking up at the sky anyway.
A little while later, Paula asked quietly, "Do you want
to hear the real story of this lodge?"
I, for one, wasn't going to let an opportunity like that
pass, and I said, "Go for it!" I don't know if Josh and
Susan and Bill and Keri were all that keen to hear the
story, but it is my lake and they were drinking my beer,
so they said, "Sure."
Paula got up and stood by the fire. The five of us were
in lawn chairs close enough to be warmed by the flames.
"This," pointing to the cabin, "is the sacred medicine
lodge of the Pea-a-wah people. The tribe was here before
the new ones came to this land.... long before the white
new ones came. This lodge was built to stand for all
time here by the shore of the lake while the tribe
wandered throughout these lands. To understand what I am
about to tell you, you must be within the lodge."
It was an odd request, but I would have done a lot more
to hear the full story of the hunting cabin, so I picked
up my chair and started into the lodge. The others
followed my example. As we moved our chairs into the
circle of stone, I was wishing that I had a recorder of
some sort, or at least a pen and paper, but instead I
was going to have to listen hard and remember harder.
The wide doorway and the two low windows alongside the
opening allowed us to see and hear very clearly. Between
the light of the fire before us and the glow of the full
moon above us, it was almost bright within the walls.
Paula returned and stood beside the fire. "The tribe
would return here," she explained, pointing down at the
ground beneath her, "whenever it needed to be renewed.
That could be the death of the chief, or perhaps the
death of other major leaders in the tribe. Sometimes,
the spirits just led the people back here and the ritual
hunt was done so that the will of spirits could be known
within the tribe."
"The ritual hunt was simple. On the night of the last
full moon before the snow times, four of the strongest
and bravest men of the tribe would bring four maidens
here to the lodge. Sometimes the maidens came willingly,
sometimes they did not. To be chosen as a maiden for the
hunt was a great honor, but it held many risks. It also
held the possibility of great reward."
"When night had fallen and the full circle of the moon
could be seen in the sky, the maidens would come to the
fire and cast all of their possessions into the flames.
Then naked and defenseless, they would flee into the
woods to be hunted by the four braves."
"When the circle of the moon reached its highest point,
the hunt would begin. The first maiden to be captured
would be brought back to the fire. She would be branded
with a carved stone on the side of the left buttocks.
The brand was in the shape of a whip, and symbolized
that she was to be the one to receive the punishment
that would atone for the lives of the animals which the
tribe must kill to survive the winter.
From that point on, she would be slave to the medicine
woman. She was considered to be the lowest of the women,
and was denied clothing except in the harshest of
weather. She would regularly be tied to the skin rack in
the middle of camp and whipped until she screamed."
"This sounds barbaric, but often times the atonement
woman would yearn for her time of punishment and would
bind herself to the skin rack so that she could be
beaten. Perhaps being the atonement woman changed her,
or perhaps she already craved the whip and allowed
herself to be captured first."
"The second maiden captured would be branded with the
symbol of the knife. She would be married to the one who
captured her - or to his son. The butcher woman of the
tribe would teach her the skills of cutting and cleaning
meat and the skills of using the hides and the bone and
the sinews. She would be responsible for teaching these
skills to the women of the tribe."
Paula paused and looked at each of us to see if we were
still listening. "The third maiden captured would be
branded with the symbol of fertility - a phallus. She
became the bride of the brave chosen by the medicine man
- the shaman of the tribe. But before her partner was
chosen, she would mate with all the braves of the tribe
so that her firstborn son would belong to the tribe and
not to any one brave. She was to be the one who taught
fertility to the women of the tribe and would be learned
in the ways of pleasing a man... or a woman."
"None of the maidens ever wanted to be the fourth one
captured. The fourth one captured would be the tribe's
offering to the gods of the hunt. She would be branded
with the symbol of the wolf, and staked out in a
clearing to be left for the hunters of the forest.
Normally the medicine woman would give this maiden a
special herb so that she went to sleep and accepted her
fate."
If any maiden should somehow evade capture until dawn,
it is proof that she is a Warrior Woman and is entitled
to wear the feather brand. If the hunters of the forest
bow down to a Warrior Woman, that woman becomes the new
Chief of the tribe. Many maidens who think that they are
Warrior Women and elude the first three captures, often
end up as an offering to the gods of the hunt who have
rejected them."
Paula stepped closer to the fire and picked something up
off of the ground. "It is because the hunt for a Chief
is never ending, that this place is feared. Maidens know
that if they come here on the night of the last full
moon before the snows, they may end up as prey for the
ritual hunt."
She smiled at me and suddenly I knew that something was
terribly wrong. There was no light in the lodge except
from the fire. The thatched roof above me was blocking
out the light of the moon. I started to say, "What the
hell!?" When Paula suddenly threw something onto the
fire. There was a tremendous burst of smoke and flame,
and then.... and then I was in the middle of a mixture
of dream and nightmare.
I was running naked except for a loin cloth and leather
moccasins. I was chasing someone through the woods. She
was naked and her light brown hair was flying behind her
as she ran. She looked over her shoulder and I could see
that it was Susan. I knew I had to catch her, but I
wasn't sure why. Then Josh ran in from the right and
tackled her, taking her down in a heap of arms and legs.
Apparently Josh had some leather strips with him because
he tied her hands and legs with them and hoisted her up
on his shoulders. "We need to mark her before we go
after the others," he said. His voice, or perhaps his
words sounded odd.
We both ran back to the hunting lodge. There were two
small trees in front. Josh rapidly tied Susan between
the trees and then picked up something from the ground.
It was a switch, freshly peeled of its bark. He handed a
second one to me and said, "We don't have much time. It
requires 50 strokes. We will alternate and each do
half."
With that he began swinging the switch against Susan's
ass. After five, he stopped and said, "Now you." I swung
and Susan screamed as the switch bit into her ass-
cheeks. She was screeching more and more shrilly as Josh
and I each repeated our cadence of five strokes until
the desired count of fifty was reached. When we stopped
Susan stopped screaming, but she continued to moan, only
now her moans were deeper, more throaty, almost as if
she were approaching sexual release.
Josh picked up something from the fire. It was a small
tree limb that was barely in the fire. There was
something lodged in the end of it and held in place with
a winding of thin leather strips. It looked like a long
piece of stone that had been shaped on the end to a thin
line. He pressed it lightly against the left side of
Susan's ass. Suddenly she threw back her head and roared
out a guttural, moaning cry. There was no mistaking
this. She was climaxing from the pain. "We must hurry,"
yelled Josh. "There are others to catch."
I followed him back into the woods. Soon we could hear
someone else running. Keri burst forth from a clump of
brushes with Bill close behind her. She saw us and tried
to turn to run the other way, but Bill suddenly caught
her and bound her wrists and ankles. We followed him
back to the lodge as he carried her, kicking and
screaming, through the woods.
When we got back to the fire in front of the lodge, he
set her on the ground and said to Josh, "You know what
to do and when." Then he released Keri wrists and ankles
and allowed her to stand. He lay on his back on the
ground. His good-sized prick was swollen and erect. Keri
looked down at him and then, as if in a dream, slowly
settled herself upon his manhood.
She began riding him and soon both were moaning in
sexual frenzy. Finally, with a loud yell, she slammed
herself down hard on Bill's cock and folded herself
against his chest. Bill reached his hands around her and
held her tight, and Josh pulled another branding stone
from the fire. This time the end of the stone was
slightly triangular in shape, like the blade of a knife.
The brand went on the outside of Kari's right buttocks.
She screamed loudly as the heated stone burned into her
flesh. It was not a scream of pleasure. She went limp,
perhaps passed out, perhaps just exhausted from the
chase and its aftermath.
Josh again ran into the woods yelling for us to hurry.
Bill and I followed him. He seemed to know exactly where
he was going and soon we were in a small clearing. Mark
and Darlene were in the center of the clearing. Mark had
her pinned to the ground and was fucking her from
behind, more or less doggy style. She was crying out,
"Harder. Harder. Harder."
Mark climaxed and Josh yelled to him, "It has to be at
the lodge. Bring her." Mark threw Darlene over his
shoulder and loped along with us back to the lodge where
Susan was still tied between the trees and Kari was
curled up next to the fire.
"Place her there," ordered Josh, and Mark laid Darlene
on a mat in front of the fire. "We must each take her in
a different way," he said as he rolled Darlene onto her
hands and knees and knelt behind her. She thrust back
against him frantically as he pushed into her. He paused
to let her anal canal adjust to him, and then began
thrusting.
"Hurry," he said to me. "At the same time." So, as if I
was dreaming, I knelt before her and lifted my loin
cloth. My prick was already almost hard and it stiffened
to full hardness as soon as she pulled it into her
mouth. Three ways and multiples are not my first choice
when it comes to sex, but a stiff prick doesn't care if
the tongue is the only thing working. A short while
later I spurted into her mouth.
When Josh finished Darlene lay face down on the mat with
her hands beneath her rubbing her sex. She was squirming
and moaning and seemed not to notice when Josh took
another of the branding stones from the fire and pressed
it into the small of her back just at the line of her
hip bones. The brand looked like a crude prick symbol
with two balls on one end of it, in other words, a
phallus.
"There is one more to catch," said Josh with a great
deal of urgency in his voice. The gods of the hunt must
be appeased or we will not survive the winter."
My mind had no idea what he was talking about, but my
body followed him as he ran back into the woods. The
four of us chased Paula throughout the rest of the
night. We would see her near a tree and surround her,
but suddenly she would be behind us rather than in front
of us. We were still chasing her when the glow of dawn
lit up the sky and she led us back to the hunting lodge.
She stood before the fire naked, sweaty, and proud. "The
hunt is over," she declared. "I am a Warrior Woman. I
choose to wear the feather brand."
With that, she bent and picked up one of the two
branding sticks still in the fire. She had very little
body hair, and almost none between her legs. She pressed
the brand against her skin on the pubic bone just above
her sex. When she lifted it away, a small, crude
representation of a feather remained.
"You must face me to see this brand'" she said. It is
not like the brands of servants on their sides, or the
brand of passionate ones on their backs. This is the
brand of a Warrior Woman."
She then lay down on her back in the clearing. There
were four pegs driven into the ground. Her arms and legs
were in the position in which they would have been tied
had she been the fourth captive.
She howled. Literally, she howled like a wolf and then
said in almost a chant, "Hunters of the forest, judge
me. I give my life to you if I am not worthy."
Four huge wolves walked out of the forest. I had never
seen wolves in these woods before. These were huge and
greyish black with a touch of grey-white around the
faces. All four came up to where Paula was lying on the
ground and sat down. They then lowered their heads and
growled softly. I had seen this behavior before in dogs.
They were showing submission to an alpha. They were
bowing before her.
She said, "Thank you my brothers of the hunt," and rose
to her feet.
She came and stood before the four of us. "I am Paw-lee-
wa, she began. Then looking directly at me, she
continued, "I have come to know you, man called 'W,' and
you have heard the cries of my people. Thank you for
restoring the lodge so that once again we could hold the
hunt. I looked in your mind and called forth from your
friends three maidens who were worthy of the roles they
must play in the hunt and in the world."
"The Pea-a-wah have been without a chief too long, but
with the lodge in ruins for many lifetimes and no
maidens found worthy of the hunt, a chief could not be
chosen to lead them. My people have been stranded here
leaderless long after their time. The hunt is complete.
I am chief. I will now lead my people from this place.
It is time for us to leave these mountains and go to the
land of the spirits."
"Man called 'W,' we thank you. It would please our
spirits if the lodge is kept well, but it is no longer
truly necessary. It will never be used again by my
people. You have freed us."
Then she and the four wolves walked into the fire and
disappeared.
***
I woke stiff and groggy in a lawn chair next to a now
burned out fire. The others were stirring around me.
I heard stirring behind me and then Bill's voice. "What
the hell kind of beer do you buy, W? I only had three or
four and it knocked me on my ass. I haven't passed out
drinking since college."
Keri was standing beside him. "I had some really weird
dreams," she said. "Are you sure there wasn't something
in that beer?"
Susan stood up beside her and stretched her obviously
hurting body. "That was more than just a weird dream. I
hurt all over and I've got welts on my back and legs."
"You've got a brand on your ass also," I said. "Left
side for you Susan. Right side for you Keri. Susan,
yours is the symbol of a whip. Keri, yours is the symbol
of a knife. When Darleen gets back, hers is in the
center of her back and is a phallus."
About that time Darlene and Mark came walking back up to
the hunting lodge. "We must have fallen asleep on the
beach," said Darlene. Then she added in a rather throaty
voice, "I had the most wonderful dream." Mark just
looked at everyone and shrugged his shoulders.
"Where's Paula?" Josh had joined us and had noticed her
absence.
"Paw-lee-wa of the Pea-a-wah people has left to lead her
people to the spirit lands." I answered. "It's a very
long story and I'm not sure any of you will believe me.
I don't know if anyone will ever believe me."
I told them the story as best as I could remember it,
and no, they didn't believe me. They still think that I,
or someone, tampered with their beer. I didn't bother to
argue with them. Even the three brands on the women was
not enough to convince them. Keri asked me directly if I
had done it while she was passed out. I assured her that
whatever happened to them also happened to me, and we
left it at that.
I decided that this was one story I would never tell
anyone. I promised myself that I would take it with me
to my grave. I probably would have kept that promise,
but a few weeks later I was sitting at the bar at Jake's
Roadhouse nursing a beer and watching a game on
television when the bartender leaned across the bar and
said softly, "I really am going to miss Paula around
here."
I looked up at him and he continued in his quiet voice,
"You know that she was one of the old people, don't you?
She's been around here a long time... a long, long time.
She would tell us stories about how it was before the
war. I think the people here would like to know how her
story ended."
I told him. He listened intently to every word I said.
He believed me. And he will tell others, and they will
tell their children, and their children will tell their
children. And someday, if an anthropologist again comes
to this area and takes the time - a long time - to earn
the people's trust, those children might share with him
or her from the communal memory, the story of Paw- lee-
wa, the last Warrior Woman Chief of the Pea-a-wah
People.
END OF STORY
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life in
any way, shape or form. Anyone tempted to act out any
of the scenarios in this story should seriously
consider seeking professional help.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Kristen's collection - Directory 79