Hunters

After a moment the door is opened, bathing you in warm yellow light. A large man stands in the doorway, looking at you in disbelief.

"It's a girl," he says over his shoulder. "Let's get you inside girl, you look frozen." He puts his arm around your shoulders and urges you inside, leading you to a fireplace. It's welcome warmth makes you start to cry softly in relief.

"She's soaked, get her a blanket," he says. You glance and see three other men sitting at a table, cards and a whiskey bottle in plain sight. One of them gets up to get a blanket while the other two approach.

"Get those wet things off girl," the first man tells you. "You'll catch pneumonia otherwise." Your numb fingers fumble at the zipper of your hoodie, and seeing your difficulty your rescuer unzips it for you, pulling off your body.

"The rest of your clothes too," he tells you, and you try to order your fingers to obey and unbutton your shirt. They're still useless, and once again he helps you, unbuttoning your shirt and peeling it off. The man with a blanket wraps it around you, it's scratchy warmth welcome. You kick off your sodden shoes, and one of the men peels your socks off. Your fingers are working a bit better now and your unbutton your shorts and slide them off under the blanket. Your wet bra and panties still cling uncomfortably to you, and without a moment's thought you peel them off while preserving your modesty under the blanket.

One of the men has brought a chair over near the fire for you to sit, while another wraps your soaking hair in a towel. A third slides a pair of heavy wool socks over your frozen feet, and the fourth puts a glass of something in your hand.

"Drink this down and get some warmth in you," he says. The burn of the whiskey is harsh but welcome and you feel its warmth flood through your body as it goes down your throat.

"What are you doing out in this weather, girl?" He asks you, his face solicitous.

"I got stuck. My car got stuck. My phone wouldn't work so I decided to walk back to the main road."

"What are you doing out here? This is no place for a girl like you to be driving around in a storm."

"I got lost. I'm supposed to go camping with some friends and I took the wrong turn and got lost and I don't....I don't...I..." you start to sob in relief.

"Hey, you're safe now girl. What's your name anyway? I'm Pete, this is Mike, Steve and Mark. It's Mark's cabin. We're on a hunting trip. Taking a weekend away from the city."

"I'm Lisa," you answer, wiping some of your tears away and managing a smile at your rescuers. Mike is picking up your clothes and putting them near the fire to dry. He gives you an appraising look as he picks up your bra and panties.

"Well Lisa, you can stay here and get warm and when the weather clears up we'll see what we can do about getting you unstuck. Probably have to wait til morning though. You hungry? We got some stew."

His words remind you that you're ravenously hungry and you nod your head, smiling at him. Steve puts a warm bowl of stew in your hands, the aroma of it filling your senses as though it is the most delightful scent imaginable. Greedily, you start to spoon it up, not realizing at first that your actions have loosened the blanket, giving the men a view of your ample assets. When you see then glance at each other with raised eyebrows you realize that you've exposed yourself to them. Blushing deeply, you pull the blanket around you and try to keep eating.

Pete pats your shoulder. "You're safe here Lisa. No need to worry. We're police officers. We wouldn't hurt you."