Hunting a Special Prey

There’s something of a Hunter in Bruce. He aims for what he wants, and he goes for it, no matter what. And he’s always on the mood for hunting a special prey. That doesn’t mean he’s impulsive. On the contrary: he can wait patiently for the perfect opportunity and he won’t waste his resources in useless attempts. But once he attacks, you better watch out, for he is relentless and untirable.

He wanted to be rich before 35 and he did it! He worked his ass off, doing business after business, taking greater risks every time, until he got what he wanted. Then, he handled it just as if he were hunting: choosing the best spot to start, analyzing the environment, picking up a prey, and not letting it go.

It wasn’t very different with me. I know many people won’t like the analogy. But, you see, Bruce is not the kind of guy who takes you on a date and gives you flowers. He needs to feel the rush of adrenaline in everything he does, including dating and sex. As for me, I’ve always been kink, and I couldn’t find anything more boring than some “Mr. Romantic” trying to win my heart by being nice and stupid. 

So our relationship didn’t develop in the usual way. He’s a hunter, and I’m a brat, and I wouldn’t submit to him unless he forced me to it. That means that bringing me to bed isn’t going to be easy. It also means that there is going to be sweat, force, and perhaps even a couple of bruises. But it also means that it is going to be an unforgettable experience—way beyond what nice people have.

Once he got rich, Bruce bought a property in the country with half a dozen acres of woods. To celebrate his success, he prepared five traps made with ropes and then he hunted me for an hour. If I survived, I could humiliate him in whatever way I chose; if he won, and I fell into one of his rope traps, he would tie me, Shibari style, and do whatever he wanted before releasing me.

I got hunted and I couldn’t be happier.

That’s our Shibari story.