Hunters in the Mist

Filled with liquid courage and a bolstered ego Jessie stepped out onto the dance floor. Busting out moves that put everything in my own dance inventory to shame Jessie took a winding path towards my potential interviewee. Using her expert judgment to avoid straying too close to the watching beasts.

I found myself bewitched by the shakes and twists of Jessie's fantastic dance moves. Watching her was disorating or perhapes I was paying the price of dowing so many shots of courage in so short a time.

Without warning two hunters emerged from the mist. Acting as a pack the leader put his hands on Jessie's hips while the other blocked her escape with his broad body.

Jessie found herself trapped in the hunters snarl. A trap I had so selfishly goaded her into. Her friend Sarah touched my arm in mutually felt concern.

Sidelined I watched as one of the hunters crudely humped Jessie's backside while the other enthusiastically rubed his spear against her extended knee. With no escape forward or back, Jessie found she had to endure being humped to the rhythm beat of her captures tribal music.

The hunters were emboldenedby their prey's feeble struggles. Jessie could do little to defender herself from two pairs of probing hands. One that reach upwards towards her breasts while the other other reached downward under her skirt.

With practiced expertiese the two hunters guided Jessie deeper into mists. I knew if I didn't intervene now there would be little reason to later. But to do so I would have to brave the haziness of the mist and the dark rooms beyond.