A dream of prey

You run through a snow-covered forest, your pants misting the air in front of you. Branches swack into your naked flesh, covering your breasts in delicious red welts and filling your tails with pine needles and sticky sap. One branch smacks into your ass, forcing a delighted whimper from your throat, but you **** yourself to ignore the pussy juice that runs down your thighs and drips into the snow to forge onwards.

You can hear metal limbs moving, snapping through the brush behind you. Further than that, you think you can make out the sounds of a horse. He's coming. You're so excited.

You burst through a bush to find a small creek winding it's way across your path. Not wasting a moment you rush to cross it, ignoring the way your bare feet, even insulated from the elements as your nature makes them, are numb from the cold. But then just as you reach the other side your foot slips on a smooth stone. With a squeal you fall face-first into the snow.

You hear movement nearby, something clattering across the rocks, and you push yourself to your feet as fast as you can. It's already too late, of course. Two machines, almost reminiscent of hounds except for how their various parts gleam in the cloud-covered sunlight, stand between you and the path you were taking. You turn around, only to see the third machine next to a man on a horse, dressed in winter clothes with a fur-lined cloak and a hat with a red feather.

The man dismounts his horse, and even as he walks confidently across the creek that so thoroughly stopped you you're sinking to your knees, legs spread in a way that causes your pussy to touch the snow. Rather than numbing you, this only serves to excite you further.

The man comes up to you, just too far away for you to rub yourself on his damp boots, and grabs your chin in a gloved hand. Tilting your face up so you're looking him in the eyes, he smiles. "Caught you," he says, before...