It’s a dream of mine to hunt you in a field or forest or over beautiful rolling hills. You would be confined of course, the whole landscape contained in a high and hard wall or fence. If you’re in my world you’re in my trap but let’s focus on the important thing, that would be us. You are fleeing, desperately fighting to get away, and I’m chasing, following a trail of your misery whether by scent, or mark, or inevitable mistake. Eventually I would find you, and I would pin you down and gag you, my rugged and muscled form towering over you as you struggle and lose sight and focus. Adrenaline pumping through your veins fight or flight or even better freeze and fawn; regardless of your actions I will dominate you, I will bring you back to earth as one part of you dies the other is awakened and a lustful moan escapes your pretty lips choked back by the fabric in your gasping mouth. I would use you completely, bruising you, beating you, breeding you. Then on a whim I’d take you back, back to my place, I’d keep you warm and safe until I could hunt you another day. This dream is one I haven’t yet realized but I’ve been close, oh so close! And a good hunter doesn’t quit until they’ve bagged their prize, it would be a lie to say I don’t still have you in my sights.