MAN HUNTING PAGE
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Ready to begin your hunting? Choose
your prey. Under each image is the number of opponents he has killed. The
higher the number, the more dangerous the prey.
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Great choice. You have nerve!
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Choose your features:
Weapons, Strenght, Sex, Cunning, Courage. Total: 100
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HUNTER
Your choice:
Life Level: 100%
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OK. Ready?
Pay with your credit card.
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OK. The game is on!
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GAME 1
AT THE POND
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The long Mexican border, arid and sun-washed. Waste land. Rocks.
Sand. A few trees. Under the unrelenting sun, one man is riding, a second one
is following some miles behind. They are playing the oldest game, the best
one: man-hunting. The pursuer is moving faster. The hunt will end soon.
The prey is a black man. A strong, tough stud. The dust from the
trail coats him and his horse.
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 The pond, finally!
Ain't no more water in my bottle; my mouth as dry as this damn sand. I
ain’t had a drop since yesterday morning. Thought I would die in the
desert.
But now here
the pond. I can drink. That fresh water feel so good, soothin' my burnin'
throat.
Sure would be
nice to wash up a bit. It so hot, I can't hardly breathe, but I ain't
got time to stop: that son of a bitch Sheriff Norton ain't far behind and I
ain't got time.
My horse near
to dead, he so tired. How I s'pose to get to the border, I can't ride?
I drink as
much as I can. I refill my bottle.
I climb on my
horse, but he just stand there. He dead beat. I dig my spurs in his ribs, but
he don't care.
If he
don’t move, I done for. That sheriff be here any minute, and he ain't
riding no beat-up horse, neither. He got himself a fresh one, maybe two of
'em these past five days, but I can’t stop at the forts 'less I want to
get picked up by the soldiers.
Nothin' I can
do to get the horse moving. Ain't no use forcin' him. He ain't
got nothing left to give.
I got to face
the sheriff and take him down, there ain't no other choice. He real quick,
maybe the best shot in Arizona. He see me, I'm a dead man.
Shit! I shoot him in the back, if I can. Hide myself in them
bushes down by the pond. He bound to stop there to drink. He ain’t
gonna see me, not even he got an eagle eye, and soon he be a dead man, and
his eagle eye ain't be seein' nothin'. Real soon now. Dangerous, yeah,
but I got no choice.
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The man dismounts, then drives his horse into a hidden place where
the sheriff will not see him. He walks back to the pond and hides himself
among the thick shrubs. He lies down flat on the ground, his hands gripping
his rifle. He sweats in the fierce heat, the palms of his hands leaving
blurs of sweat on the rifle. He dries his hands against his trousers, twice.
He is going to kill or to be killed.
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 I can see from the tracks of his horse that that scoundrel is not
far away. He's driven his horse into the ground. I’ll catch up with him
at the pond or in the hills beyond.
He's
aiming for Mexico, but there's no way he could get there before tomorrow afternoon,
even if he had a good horse. And his horse is on its last legs: the Black
Devil will have to go on foot. He’ll never reach the border.
I have
to take care now: he's got no hope, he knows he's going to be hanged and
he’ll try anything to save himself. The careless hunter can become the
prey, I know it.
But I
also know that without the danger, there'd be no thrill in the hunt. I like
hunting. I'm always hard when I hunt. I like the feeling of my stiff cock in
my trousers.
My horse is
tired. Not as tired as his, of course, but tired enough. I've
been riding him since yesterday morning; he needs some rest and some water.
He can have both at the pond soon. After a little rest, he’ll be able
to run again and I’ll catch up with that bastard.
I
suspect the Devil has already reached the pond, but he won't linger
there. He'll want to be on his way again as soon as possible.
He's
got no hope.
I like
picturing how his face will look when I meet up with him and take him in, how
he'll look when I get him back to Yuma, where that son of a bitch will swing
from a rope. I like the idea of watching him dancing his last dance, a noose
around his neck. I like watching a good hanging and his promises to be a
great one. He has a thick neck - he’ll dance for a long, long time.
He’ll give a good show. Really good. My cock is even harder, now.
But I
haven’t got him yet.
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The
sheriff is arriving at the top of the hill. He is younger than his opponent,
about thirty or thirty-five. He is strong and his muscles are fairly well-defined,
but he is less massive than the Black Devil. His shirt shows the stains of
sweat in the armpits and on the front and back. Dust and sweat have combined
to cake his face.
From the hill, he can see the pond. The place seems to be deserted. His horse
gives a short neigh on seeing the blue water. He doesn't notice his prey
hiding behind the bushes. He doesn’t realize that he is becoming the
prey.
He reaches the little lake and dismounts. He looks around, then he bends to
examine the tracks.
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 Now?
No, I ain't got a good shot. I'd have to move and he'd spot me. I
got to wait. It be better when he get up on his horse again, headin'
for the pass. He won’t see me and I shoot him right in the back.
Yeah. Kill that son of a bitch.
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 A rest for my horse and some fresh
water for him and for me. I can see that the Black Devil stopped here
not long ago. He can't be far. I could go get him now, but that
pool looks so clean and clear. He won't be going nowhere fast. I
can afford to take half an hour for me and my horse, then I’ll track
him down and take him. Alive or dead. Alive would be better - then I'll
get to see him dying on the gallows. Or maybe… there's no one
here. I could capture him and amuse myself with him, then bring his
corpse back to the fort. Mmmm, that's a fine thought. They say he has a
cock like a bull…
I look around. Everything is quiet.
God, it's hot! I drink. The water is so fresh! Like silk in my mouth.
An idea strikes me. I have to wait for my horse to rest. Why not go for a
swim? It would be great.
I look around again. The Black Devil isn't here, he's making tracks for the
border. No risk.
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The
sheriff begins to strip. He leaves his weapons near the edge of the pond. He
is naked, now. There is a heavy growth of black hair on his chest and belly,
leading down to his manhood.
He bends to touch the water. It’s cool. He enters into the pond, unable
to see the other man looking at him, astonished. The sheriff begins to swim;
the pond is small, but deep.
The outlaw moves, quickly. He reaches the edge of the pond, his rifle in his
hands, smiling. He hides behind a bush and breaks out laughing.
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 The water is cool and swimming feels
so incredibly good. I was so dirty and sweaty... all those days riding after
that rascal! My ass aches and my nuts feel like they're being eaten by
red ants!
And now, the fresh water and a little rest.
The pool is actually deep enough to go under water. Gorgeous!
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The
sheriff dips twice. When he comes to the surface for the second time, the
outlaw is standing on the shore, a satisfied smirk on his face. The sheriff
sees the man waiting for him.
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 The
Black Devil here! I'm a dead man. My guns…
No hope, I'm an easy target and there's no place I can hide, nowhere I can
run. I was a fool, a stupid fool, and now I am a dead fool.
"Come out, you son of a bitch."
What else can I do? I have no choice - he's got me. I move toward the shore.
Maybe I could catch him off guard? Ridiculous. He's not stupid like I was. He
is taking my handcuffs, he wants to be sure I can't try anything. Why
does he want to handcuff me? Why doesn’t he kill me now?
Does he want to take his sweet time with me, before filling my belly with
lead? Yeah, that's probably it. I do the same, sometimes, with the outlaws. I
could have done the same to him, but instead it’s my turn.
He barks: "Come here."
I look at him. Nothing else I can do. Time to die, Steve! It’s my
own fault. Death doesn't scare me, though. Neither can the Black
Devil. I look him straight in the eye.
I'm out of the water, now, a few feet from him.
I despise this man who ran away instead of fighting.
"You're a damn coward, ya shitty nigger. You didn’t have the
guts to face me man to man."
He is smiling, a smile of triumph, but I can see hate in his eyes. His dark
face is wet with sweat. He was scared, he was at death’s door, but he
came back. Got himself a stay of execution.
"Mebbe I am a coward," he says, "but you're the one gonna
die."
Then he adds "Turn round and put your hands behind your back."
Now or never. It’s hopeless, I know. I can't catch him off guard.
He's not stupid. I was. But I have to try.
I obey, but when he comes close, I turn and I jump.
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The
sheriff jumps and he manages to deflect the outlaw’s arm while the man
shoots. But the Black Devil quickly rams the butt end of his rifle into the
sheriff’s face. The sheriff grunts and blood starts running from his
nose. With his left hand, the Devil smashes a big fist into Norton’s
belly. Norton gasps. The Devil uses the rifle as a club to bash the
sheriff’s head.
Norton sees the world fading and he falls on the dirt. The fight took no more
than ten seconds.
The Devil turns the sheriff on his belly and cuffs his hands behind his back.
He smiles. He looks at the sheriff’s ass and smiles even more broadly.
Time passes, the sheriff's body lying motionless on the ground while the
Black Devil crouches nearby, waiting for him to wake up.
Finally, the sheriff’s body quivers as his consciousness tries to
return. His lip is cut, his nose is bleeding. His mind refuses to understand,
then, slowly, the daze clears from his brain. He can see the black man
kneeling near him, smiling.
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Life Level: 90%
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 He handcuffed
me. Now I'm in my killer’s hands. I'm going to die. I turn, lying on my
side.
He snarls, poking his finger into my chest:
"OK, sheriff, you been on my ass for five days. But no more. Now's
time we put an end to this. Slowly. We ain't in no hurry, yeah?
I look at him. He's laughing. He'll shoot me slowly, one bullet after
another. I'm not afraid of facing down death. Somehow it doesn’t
matter. And something is stirring inside. It’s a strange feeling: the
idea of dying excites me in some deep-rooted way. My cock is hardening, as it
does when I'm on the other end of the gun. To kill, to be killed...
The Devil adds:
"You done told me I a coward. Well, now you gonna be fucked by a
coward. So what that make you, huh?"
He laughs, almost a roaring. I look at him and understand. The final
humiliation. He’ll brag of having fucked the sheriff before killing
him.
It won’t be the first time I get fucked, but it will be the first I get
raped. And the last.
My killer is going to fuck me. No avoiding it. Before I die I’ll
feel a cock in my ass for the last time. My killer’s cock. I see the
pit yawning wide for me, I know I'm going to die, I know he’ll rape me,
but al the same my cock is stiffening. Yeah, he won, he's got me. So he can
take my ass. Why not? And for the last time, I’ll feel a cock stuffed
up my hole.
He strips. I look at his big chest, his huge shoulders. He's got muscles on
top of muscles. He drops his pants, revealing the largest cock I ever saw in
my life. It’s rock-hard.
"Get up!"
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 He doin' it. He don’t seem to
mind, he about to get fucked up the ass. Sumbitch got nerve.
He facin' me now, we standin' a few inches apart. He smilin', the sumbitch. I
punch him in his belly, hard as I can. He bend and I slam him face down in
the dirt. I don’t let him up till I rub his face in the dirt, once,
twice, lotsa times, and blood come running down his nose again. I hate him,
he go chasin' me like that. I grab him by the hair and I drag him to a big
rock, make him bend down the stone. I watch his hairy ass.
I leave him standin' there, I take my hat and I bend over the pond. I get a
hatful water and put it on my head. The water runs down all over, feels nice,
real nice... and fucking his tight asshole be even nicer. I fill the hat
again. Great.
Now, it this fuckin' sheriff’s turn. Can't wait to make him taste my
gun. I pick it up.
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 I am waiting. I feel something
pressing against my asshole, but it’s not his cock. It’s a gun. I
grind my teeth. The barrel enters. It’s painful, but my cock is hard,
now. Is he going to kill me so? To shoot me up the ass and then fuck me while
I'm dying? Or does he want to fuck my corpse? My cock is harder than the
barrel in my ass.
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 The barrel of my gun look damn fine
stuck deep up his ass. I move it. He don’t say a word, but he gruntin'
plenty. I could shoot him, but it be too quick. I want to enjoy myself.
My cock done got real hard now. Time to fuck him.
I take out the gun, I slap his ass. I put my hard cock right up 'gainst him,
then I shove it through his asshole. He moanin' and squirmin'. I start to
pumpin', fast and furious.
Feels reeeeeeal good!
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 It’s painful, his cock is
huge. But, in spite of the pain, it’s great. My killer has a huge, hard
cock and he is fucking me with it, ravaging my innards. But I like it, yes, I
like this pain, I like the feeling of his big cock deep in my ass. He goes on
and on pushing.
Then he presses his gun against the back of my head. The end is near, I know.
My pleasure too: soon I’ll cum. Will I be able to cum before he shoots?
He is grunting. He grunts with each thrust of his cock. And I like the sound
of his grunting, the menace I feel in it. It chills me and it arouses me.
Then, suddenly, I don’t feel his gun anymore. He changes his pace,
slowing his strokes down until he is fucking me almost softly. I have plenty
of time to think about the death and the pleasure that are approaching.
Excitement and fear, pain and pleasure. I can't think of a better way to go
out.
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 Great.
I like fuckin' a sheriff 'fore killin' him. Ain't the first time, won’t
be the last. He got him a beautiful ass, strong and warm. Be nice to go on
fucking him forever, but I gonna cum. I feel it buildin', buildin', then my
nuts explode, shootin' their hot load up the sheriff’s ass. I moan, a
wave of pleasure rollin' over me and knockin' me out.
Ain't nothin' better in this world, you ask me.
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 I can feel his hot load in my ass
and I tighten on his cock. I begin to cum. It’s the strongest orgasm of
my life. I'm cumming like a horse, in a frenzy of pleasure, like my whole
life is draining out of me through my balls and dick. I know I'm getting
closer to my death, but it doesn’t matter, not at all.
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Life Level: 85%
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 I slip my cock out his hole. I look
at his ass, my cum and his blood drippin' down his legs. I start laughin'.
I search his vest and I find a cigar-box. I take one out and light it up. I
breathe in some smoke, blow it out, lookin' at the sheriff’s ass. I
fucked it. He wanted to kill me, but I fucked him and now I goin' to kill
him. I laugh again. I skim the cigar over one side his ass. He shivers. He
knows it ain’t gonna be quick. I fucked him and now I gonna take my
sweet time with him. I run the burning end of the cigar along his ass-crack,
I press it against his asshole, look like a fat, flaming cock gonna fuck him
again. He moans.
I look at my cock. It’s dirty: blood and cum. I smile.
"Get up," I tell him.
He stand up and he turn, facin' me. He got a big wet spot on his belly and
his cock still mostly hard. This shit came, too, last time in his worthless
life. Such a faggot! I spit on his face.
"On yo' knees, sheriff. Right here."
I grab his hair and make him kneel.
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 He
wants to kill me while I'm kneeling in front of him... and he's smoking one
of my cigars. I'm not afraid, though. I'm waiting for it. I'm ready.
I can see his big cock that I felt in my ass only a few minutes ago. I look
at the thick black fur covering his lower belly, at his large nuts. I'm
impressed. He's still a coward, but he's such a male! He grins. My cock
is stiffening again.
"Clean my cock. Lick it."
Clean his cock? I shake my head. I look at it, at the cock that was so
recently in my ass. I like the feeling of a big cock in my mouth. I would
like to suck it, that's the truth, to suck for the last time a big cock,
maybe even to die with that cock in my mouth. I am starting to salivate. But
he wants to humiliate me, and I won’t yield, even though I'm going to
die. I shake my head again.
"Never, ya shitty nigger, never."
"Never?"
He laughs, then he puts one of his hands around my neck and he begins to
strangle me. His hands are so huge he can strangle me with only one of
them! He can kill me, but I won’t obey. I can't breathe, now.
He's pressing his cock against my face.
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The
Devil moves his buttocks, slamming his hardening cock against the sheriff's
face. He looks at the traces of blood and semen that his dick leaves on the
sheriff’s cheeks, nose, lips and chin.
The sheriff’s face is reddening. He is forced to open his mouth to
breathe and the Devil pushes his cock inside the doomed man’s mouth.
His hands, both of them now, are constricting the sheriff’s throat.
Then suddenly he releases his opponent’s neck and he withdraws his
cock.
The sheriff closes his eyes, gasping for air.
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Life Level: 70%
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 "You ain't a man, sheriff, you
a whore. Get up!"
He do it. I spit on his face. I look at my spit slidin' down his dirty cheek.
I set the cigar on a rock.
Then I slap his nuts, twice. He grittin' his teeth. I flick his balls with
the backs of my fingers. I punch them and he grunts. I grab them, twisting
his sac, and I start squeezin'. Now I crushin' them. He sweatin' now. He open
his lips. He don’t scream, but some spit start droolin' out the corner
of his mouth.
I can see the pain on his face. He don’t give in, but his cock ain't so
hard, now.
I laugh.
"'S matter, faggot? Seems you don’t like my gentle
caresses!"
I pick up the cigar. I move it 'til the lit end touchin' his dickhead. He
just moanin'. I push the cigar hard against the skin. Now he screamin' -
better. I throw the cigar away.
I take my knife and put the point on his cockhead. He get all tense.
I stick the point of the knife between his foreskin and his dickhead. Some
blood start running. He sweatin'. Feels good to see him like that. The second
time the blade start cuttin' more of the tender skin and the meat underneath.
More blood.
I put the point of the blade in his pisshole and I push. A lot of blood, now,
blood all over. His face gone pale.
I play with his dick, takin' my time, scratchin' the skin with the blade,
cuttin' furrows into his flesh.
Then I put the knife below the base of his cock and I start slicin'. He
screamin' and screamin'. He got tears in his eyes.
"You ain’t a man no more, sheriff! No, you ain't never been a man.
Just a faggot."
A lot of blood. His cock fall off into my hand. I laughin' and laughin'.
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Life Level: 40%
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The
Devil grabs the sheriff’s nuts and he begins to cut them, too. The edge
of steel bites Norton’s flesh and nerves. Through clenched teeth come
his groans. He falls, kneeling in front of his murderer.
Beads of sweat are starting to drip into his eyes. His vision is clouding.
A torrent of pain is racking his body. He cannot stand.
"Stop, stop. Please."
The Devil smiles.
"Suck, sheriff! Suck, faggot."
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Life Level: 30%
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 I am not a man. And I cannot take
the pain anymore.
I look at his cock, just in front of my mouth. It's huge and it’s
stiff. Killing turns him on.
I obey. I open my lips. I take it into my mouth. I lick it, I swallow his cum
and my blood. I savor the taste of my killer’s cock.
"You a good cock-sucker."
He grabs my hair and he begins to facefuck me, pushing my head against his crotch.
I am choking.
Suddenly he pushes my head off his cock.
"Stop, faggot!"
I look at him. He's going to kill me. I am spent. I don’t feel
anything, even the pain and the hatred for this man have vanished.
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The
Devil sets down the knife and picks up his gun. He looks at the grimace of
pain on the sheriff’s face.
"Time to go!"
Norton looks at the Devil. He tries to rise, but he is too weak.
The Devil pulls the trigger.
One, two, three bullets slam into the sheriff’s belly and out his back.
He groans and he falls on a side, blood running from the wounds.
The Devil looks at him. He is still alive. Blood trickles from his mouth and
a shudder goes through his body.
The outlaw shoots again, in the center of his belly. Then one more, higher,
into the sheriff’s chest, tearing through his heart.
The sheriff’s body jerks for the last time, then he lies still.
He is dead.
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Life Level: 0%
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 Damn, that felt good.
I pick up my knife. I sit on his corpse and begin to slice his head off his
body.
Then I set his corpse with his back 'gainst a rock, like he sittin'. I put
his cock in his mouth, like a cigar, and I put his head on his lap. I keep
his ballsac: it gonna make a fine tobacco pouch.
I look at him and I slowly jack off. My cum fall on his head.
I take his badge outta his jacket and I pin it on his chest.
Then I go in the pond and I wash myself. I stay in the water a long time,
washin' and swimmin' and drinkin' 'fore I come out.
I look at his corpse. A lot of flies. I piss on his head.
I put my clothes back on and take the sheriff’s horse and his weapons.
Tomorrow I be in Mexico and no sumbitch sheriff ain't gonna find me. Ain't
much left of Steve Norton now. I laugh.
I spit on him and I ride away.
It late, now. The heat is finally starting to fade away.
I reach the top of the hill and turn back, take one more look. I see a
vulture flyin' down toward the carcass.
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GAME OVER
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DO YOU WANT TO TRY
AGAIN?
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