You are hunted

Your new living place is a cage. Just wide enough for you to turn around in, just tall enough for you to kneel in, but small enough that if someone wanted to reach you, to touch you, there would be no way for you to get away.

Not that you would try to, of course. You're a good Fuck-Fox.

You sleep in the cage, and every day your Lord comes to feed you and take you out for a walk. He attaches a leash to your collar and opens the cage door, guiding you out into an enclosed courtyard where you can stretch you legs. You never wear clothes besides your collar, and you are always kept lewdly dripping. When you're indoors you are to crawl, but outdoors you're permitted to walk on two legs. It's important that you be able to run quickly when you're hunted, after all.

Today, incidentally, is going to be a hunting day. You're only ever informed the morning of a hunt at the earliest, to make sure you don't have time to prepare beforehand. Not that you could with your collar cutting off your powers, but you and your Lord both appreciate the gesture.

Two servants, the only two permitted to interact with your Lord's personal toy, enter and lift your cage. Your Lord permitted you to access your power briefly, to make the cage and its contents lighter than it ought to be, so they do not have to strain particularly hard to carry you outside. There your Lord is already mounted upon his horse, with his hunting automata waiting beside him. The cage is placed in front of the group and to the side, with the door facing the forest. You **** your gaze away from your Lord and the dildos on the automata to the tree line - you need to make a chase of it, after all.

The cage door is opened and you emerge, bringing yourself to your feet - but a lead attached to the back of your collar still keeps you in place. One of the servant grabs the lead, ready to disconnect it and let you loose, while the other readies a starting pistol. A moment of tension as everyone waits to begin, and then there is the crack of the starting pistol, the lead is removed, and you race to the forest.

It is summertime now, and so you are surrounded by greenery and sounds of chirping birds. The leaves of trees caress your naked body as you run, and greener branches swing back and swat you with exciting little bursts of pain. Your breath burns in your lungs as you run through the underbrush. It takes only a few minutes for you to hear the sound of something following you, and you push yourself harder. You make it as far as halfway up a hill before the slope slows you enough that you're caught.