For the troop, the next few days passed fairly peacefully. As Harry had suggested, they watched for the new girls coming in; they all felt that their chances were reduced as the troop got smaller, and they were now down to six. Under Audra's leadership, they visited the troops living in the other three villages in the Preserve, just to see if any of them were currently oversized; Audra was of the opinion that even ten was a small troop.

Those expeditions, however, yielded nothing--nothing but heartbreak and sadness. To Melanie's amazement, they discovered that they, in spite of losing almost two-thirds of their number, had in fact fared much better than the other three villages. The hunters had totally exterminated the girls living in West Village; Nadine told Melanie there had been ten living there the last time they'd made contact. South Village, according to the night rangers, hadn't been exterminated but it had been abandoned; the girls there had combined their number with the East Villagers, where they were all staying now. At East Village they finally made contact with the others, and there were only nine of them. The troop stayed at East Village overnight, and there was a long conference between Audra and the East Villager leader, a tall black woman named Linda. The possibility of combining the two villages was discussed, but putting all the girls in one place seemed inadvisable; even now the hunters were able to ignore the areas around the West and South villagers. In the end, one woman from the East Village troop, a former film actress named Julie, elected to throw in with Audra's troop--and a plan was made to begin using the West and South Villages at times, to keep the hunters from being able to ignore them. Audra's troop was to take over the West Village, while Linda's was to use the South.

But, during this time, there was also another "setup scene," as Harry called them. The troop, aware of a truck at the gate and believing that perhaps other new prisoners were being brought in, gathered on a hilltop above the road and watched. From the outset it was clear that it wasn't simply a matter of a new prisoner; the truck drove all the way in to currently-unused West Village. The girls, curious, followed it. Taking a shortcut across a hilltop, they arrived in time to see the truck roll to a halt in the middle of the generally-unused village. Eight people climbed out of the back, and only one was a woman. Harry, the driver, got out and leaned against the truck's door, passively watching. At times he glanced up at the tall trees around the village; Melanie was quite sure he knew the girls were up in those trees, watching. As if to confirm her suspicions he nodded toward them, and, when none of the others were looking, he even waved subtly.

Meanwhile, the people who'd been riding in the truck had moved close to one of the natural-timber walls. Melanie could see that several of them appeared to be in costume: robes, tights, and crowns, suggesting Medieval garb. The ones that were not so dressed were loaded down with equipment of various sorts, a video camera recognizable among the pieces. Shooting a scene for a movie? Melanie wondered. If so, why here?

The woman was dressed as well, in a long velvet dress and cloak. She wore a crown, suggesting that she was supposed to be a queen or a princess. To Melanie, seeing a woman dressed now looked odd; it had, she realized with a shock, been months now since she'd seen any woman wearing any sort of clothing at all beyond the little side-packs the inmates were allowed.

Down below, the actors and the actress waited patiently while the other men--the crew, obviously--set up their cameras and microphones. They also removed from the back of the truck several large pieces of wood, which they proceeded to assemble into a sort of a scaffold; when it was done they brought out a pre-built stairway and attached it to one side. She couldn't really tell when the cameras started to roll--she didn't see anyone click a board the way they usually do in Hollywood films--but, after a while, one of the richly-robed men stood in front of the other men and the woman with a scroll in his hands, apparently reading from it.

After a moment, the woman shrieked and, theatrically, buried her face in her hands. She shook her head no, but the "king" pointed a finger at her accusingly. Finally, the woman dropped her hands and, slowly, nodded. Then, slowly and methodically, she began taking off her clothes, starting with her crown and her cloak. As each piece came off, she handed it to one of the other costumed men who stood nearby. The girl, Melanie could see, was decidedly very attractive; dark blond, very long-legged, her breasts large and shapely.

Then, once she was naked, one of the men took her arm and guided her toward the scaffold. Unresisting, she went with him, and they mounted the stairs slowly. Once she was on top, the cameras turned to one of the costumed men, a very large and powerful-looking individual. He removed his cloak and then his shirt, leaving him dressed in black pants and boots; even before he removed the black hood from the pouch at his belt and put it on, there was no doubt what sort of role he was playing. With a large and heavy sword enclosed in a scabbard swinging from his belt, he walked up the stairs to the top of the scaffold. Putting a hand on the woman's shoulder, he pushed her down to a kneeling position, then on down until she was on her hands and knees. Walking around behind her, he pushed her legs apart and reached down to feel her genitals.

"A virgin!" he cried, loudly enough for the girls to hear it. "A virgin, the princess is a virgin!"

In softer tones--to the onlooker the words were unintelligible--the "king" made some sort of pronouncement, pointing at the nude girl as he spoke. The "executioner" nodded, unbuttoned his pants, and dragged out a surprisingly large cock. Massaging it with his hand and squeezing the girl's buttocks at the same time, he worked it to erection, then roughly rammed it into her vagina. She squealed; the man leaned over her back, reaching around to crush her breasts with his hands, and fucked her violently. The cameras kept rolling; the scene went on for quite a while Finally, the man stiffened, slammed his hips against her rear a few times, and then pulled his cock out and sprayed his come all over her ass. One of the cameramen came around behind the girl and took a long loving shot of semen draining down the back of her legs.

Then, at last, the "executioner" drew his sword. The girl rose to her knees; the man who'd helped her up the stairs handed her a hair-clip, then assisted her in piling her hair atop her head and clipping it in place, baring her neck. The man then stepped away. The kneeling girl stretched out her neck as far as possible, her chin lifted, and waited passively. Carefully, the executioner touched her neck with the edge of the blade. The girl gasped at the touch of the cold steel.

"He's not actually going to do it, is he?" Melanie whispered to Audra. "I mean, she's an actress, not an inmate..."

Audra shrugged. "I don't know. All sorts of crazy things happen in here."

Down below them, the "executioner" was drawing back his sword for a stroke. Melanie held her breath, still thinking that surely, the scene would be stopped here.

It wasn't. The man brought the sword around with a powerful stroke; the edge sliced right through the patiently waiting girl's neck, and her head bounced away across the scaffold.

Melanie, wide-eyed, gasped. The executioner rushed to retrieve the head; meanwhile, the girl's body quivered, blood fountaining incredibly from the stump of her neck. Her hands came up as if they were trying to find her head. Then, just as quickly, her arms fell back and her legs kicked out strongly, sending her body surging forward. As it skidded on the scaffold in an amazingly large pool of blood, the executioner picked up the head by the hair and held it up, dripping blood, for the cameras. Her eyes, Melanie could not help but notice, were wide open and staring, and her lips moved for a moment or two as if she were trying to speak. The cameramen continued shooting until all movement of her head and body had ceased. Then, seemingly casually, they packed up their equipment and left, leaving the decapitated girl's corpse lying on the ground for the rangers to clean up. That was done quickly, but the large pool of blood that was left meant that the troop would not be using the West Village for a while.

"She was a Class-A," Harry told them later, "and was almost a double for Crystal Spearman, the movie star. They made her an offer, they told her that if she'd be Crystal's double for this scene--and play the part right, they couldn't do it by force--they'd pay her family a nice lump sum of money. She made the smart choice, she agreed to play the scene. She was doomed anyhow, she was a Class-A. This was a quick easy death for her and her family got a bonus. The studio paid." He shrugged. "It cost them, but it was cheaper than FX."

"They do fuck scenes in major pictures now?" Melanie asked.

"Only for the European market," Harry answered. "That part of the scene will be cut for domestic production. Over here you'll see her get decapitated but not fucked. Fucking's obscene, ya know. Whacking off someone's head isn't."

After that, things returned to a semblance of normalcy for a while. As Harry had said, the new girls did come in. Dark-haired but light-skinned and blue-eyed Carolyn, a college girl convicted of drug possession; Amy, a young Vietnamese-American office worker accused of embezzlement; and Hispanic Maria, once an exotic dancer like Melanie and, also like her, convicted of prostitution without a license, all were incorporated into the North Village troop, bringing their numbers back up to ten. The fourth girl they did not succeed in contacting in time, and, as so often happened with the new arrivals, she was taken by the hunters. Melanie couldn't help but notice that while Maria, thanks to her profession, was in pretty good physical shape to start with, Carolyn and Amy were not. To Melanie they didn't even look like Class-B's, at least not according to the definitions of Class B she'd been given. With Carolyn the difference was especially striking; the girl was definitely attractive, she had a very cute face, but she was a little on the plump side; she had a rounded little belly and heavy thighs, and her breasts were noticeably larger than Melanie had come to expect from a Class B. A little later, in private, Audra told her that Carolyn was one of those sent here because she had "Class B potential."

"Actually we get a lot like her," Audra said. "You watch her. If she makes it a month or six weeks, she'll slim right down and look like all the rest of us." She grinned. "The fact is, I looked a lot like that when I first came here."

"That's hard to believe," Melanie said, glancing at her absolutely flat stomach and trim muscular thighs.

"It's true. I was carrying some baby fat when I came in, just like Carolyn. It didn't take long for me to lose it, not long at all."

"I guess," Melanie agreed. As she spoke she was thinking of Diane, a now lithe strawberry blond who'd come into the Preserve only about a month before Melanie herself. Diane--before her arrest a college student who'd been living an admittedly sedentary life--had slimmed down and toughened up just as Audra had told her Carol and Amy would. Not that it had, in the end, done her any good. Diane's final run had ended a couple of weeks before, when she'd gone down under a volley of arrows released by hunters hiding in a tree stand, hunters the troop had failed to spot until it was too late.

Around this time, another group of hunters bought the right to stay in the village overnight, but the bad experience associated with the last group who'd stayed was far too fresh; the girls did not dance and refused to have anything to do with the hunters, who left disappointed and angry. Although this was their right, the warden retaliated, cutting their rations for a whole week and sending in Harry with a threat to open the villages to the hunters for a night or two if it happened again. The girls conferred; afterwards Harry was sent back with the message that it wouldn't happen again, that they'd play the game as they were expected to play it.

And, though no more men bought the expensive "night license" for a while, the hunters kept coming. They were not taking any members of the troop these days, but their presence, almost every single day, was a constant reminder of the fates of so many of their friends, and of the straits not only they, but the girls of the other troop, were in. The idea of making the ten years and going home, that faint flicker of hope the girls held on to so tightly, seemed more and more distant all the time, especially as the gathering clouds and the changing breezes announced the immanent coming of the rainy season.

Several of the girls became depressed, particularly Nadine. Nadine, a lightly-built girl with a wide innocent face, striking hazel eyes, and long brown hair she kept tied in a ponytail, had always been one of the more retiring girls in the troop, although Melanie had noticed that once she became involved in having sex with any of the hunters who stayed overnight she tended to throw herself into it wholeheartedly. After Juana's hard death, Nadine had taken it on herself to try to console Lila, and now she seemed to feel she'd failed miserably in her self-assigned task.

"I think," she said one night as she and Melanie sat talking, "that it's just hopeless, Melanie. I just don't think I can ever hope to make it ten years. I've been here about a year and a half now, and it seems like an eternity, it seems like I've been here forever."

"You can't think that way," Melanie told her. "A year and a half, that's a year and half less you have to face."

She shook her head. "No. I've sort of made a decision, Melanie."

"A decision?"

"Yeah. I don't want to die like Juana did, tortured and left alone. I don't want to be taken by assholes like the ones that killed Sunni, either." Her hands clasped before her, she looked around at Melanie. "You remember those guys who caught Jill? Remember how they treated her? They killed her, yes, but they treated her like she was a human being."

"I remember," Melanie said with a sigh. "I couldn't see it at the time, I was close to Jill. But you're right."

"I've been thinking about that a lot," Nadine went on, "about being taken by guys like that instead of the cruel ones or the assholes." She looked embarrassed. "The way Jill died--it looked almost, well, sort of exciting, you know what I mean?"

Melanie, thinking about Cindy's death--and about what Jill herself had told her, seemingly eons ago--nodded. "Yes," she replied. "I do know."

"So what I'm going to do," Nadine said, "assuming I don't get taken before I get a chance, is this: when we get some more guys in here overnight who're like John and his friends--nice guys--I'm going to give myself up to them. Let them take me, let them kill me."

"Nadine! You can't do that!"

"Why not?" She turned to face Melanie. "Why not? I'm going to be taken anyhow. We all are, nobody's going to last ten years, Melanie! I don't want to die like Juana did, or like Sunni did. I don't want to have to finish myself off either, the way Allison did. I'd rather find some half-decent guys and let them fulfill their fantasies, let them stab me or hang me. I dunno how the reality of that's going to be, but I can find the idea of that exciting... And anyway, I can probably buy everyone else some peaceful time that way too. You know that Jill did that, and so did Cindy." She sighed. "There's just no point in it anymore, Melanie. Not for me, anyway. Day after day, running and hiding, dodging the hunters, knowing that in the end it turns out the same way anyhow..."

"Girls have made it ten years," Melanie said doggedly. "They have. It does happen."

Nadine smiled wanly. "It used to happen. Now there are more hunters, the hunt's gotten more popular, or maybe the economy's better and more guys can afford it. Maybe they cut the rates, I don't know. I don't believe it's going to happen any more. I don't believe it's going to happen to me."

Melanie tried further to talk her out of it, but Nadine was unyielding; she had, she said, made up her mind. As a last-ditch effort, Melanie suggested that she wait until a situation came up requiring one of the girls to give herself to the hunters, noting that this had happened more than once in the past. She could, Melanie suggested, be the first to volunteer.

"No," Nadine argued. "That way, I don't know what I'm getting into. I want to be killed like Jill was, with some tenderness and affection and respect. I might get guys like the ones that got Sunni and Juana. I don't want that. You understand?"

Melanie did understand; it didn't stop her from arguing more, but it seemed useless, nothing she was saying had any effect on Nadine at all. In subsequent days, another party of hunters spent a night in their village, a group of "party animals" who did not impress the girls in much of any way although the girls entertained them as they'd promised. That night, Melanie kept an eye on Nadine, but the next day she was fleeing these hunters along with everyone else, and these men left the Preserve empty-handed. It was more than a month before another party of hunters spent the night with them, and this time it was a group of three, young engineers from Arizona--Dave, Al, and Fred. These men were much like John and his friends, but younger, physically in better shape, and, to Melanie's eyes, much sexier. Selected by Dave after the dance--Dave was the oldest of the three, a tall man with longish dark hair and a close-cropped mustache and goatee--she got so involved with him that for a while, she forgot he was a hunter.

But Nadine hadn't forgotten, and she hadn't forgotten her plan, either. Late that evening--Melanie was sleeping with Dave on a mat in front of the fire pit, lying contentedly in his arms, the taste of his semen still in her mouth, not even thinking about the next day and what it might bring, when she was awakened accidentally by Al, who was trying to wake Dave alone.

"You need to come with me," Al whispered to Dave. "One of these girls has a proposal for us. It sure as hell is worth hearing."

Melanie feigned sleep as Dave disengaged himself from her and rose. Her eyes slits, she watched the two men walk away--and watched them sit down a little distance from the rest of the sleeping girls, with Fred and Nadine.

Melanie hadn't forgotten either, and she felt sure she knew exactly what sort of proposition was being made. Watching them talk, she considered her options. Then, abruptly, she rose and walked over to them. All four looked up, surprised. To Melanie, the three men looked a bit guilty.

"Nadine," Melanie said without preamble. "Don't do this. Please."

The other girl shook her head. "We've been all over this, Melanie," she replied. "This is what I want. There are the guys I've been waiting for. They're really nice, really sexy. I want to give them their fantasy. I want them to be the ones to kill me."

"You might make it ten years, Nadine," Melanie insisted. "You can't know you won't."

Nadine reached out and touched her hand lightly. "Melanie, I don't want to make it ten years. I'm tired, I'm tired of the running. I'm ready for it to end; I'm ready to die." Melanie sighed. "They've already agreed to give up the rest of their limit for this," Nadine added. "None of the others will have to worry about them."

Melanie gave Dave a sidewise look. "There was no guarantee they'd get any of us anyway," she said.

"But they might," Nadine insisted. "They're strong, good woodsmen..."

"Okay, okay, they might. That doesn't mean that--"

"Melanie," Nadine cut in, "please don't try to talk me out of it. You can't. I've made up my mind." She smiled. "Besides, I want to ask you a favor. Maybe you'll refuse, but I'm going to ask anyway."

Melanie shook her head sadly. "What, Nadine?"

"I want you to witness it. Stay with us--stay with me--while they kill me."

"Oh, Nadine," Melanie said, "I really--look, I watched Jill die like that, I watched Cindy die like that--I don't want to watch it again, not with another friend..."

"Then I suppose I'm not your friend, not really. Not someone you care anything about."

"Nadine! That's not true!"

"Yes, it is. If it wasn't you'd do this for me. You talk all the time about Jill and Cindy. They're immortalized in your words, in your stories about their deaths. Some of the other girls have learned those stories; they've become legends. If I die without any of the girls here to witness, I'll be gone, forgotten." Melanie argued some more, but she found it impossible to deny that Nadine had a point.

Finally, reluctantly, she agreed. "Where is this going to be done?" she asked tiredly.

"Here. I'm going to stay in the village tomorrow with the guys. We'll do it right here."

"I can't stay in the village! I'll be a sitting duck for any other hunters that come along!"

"No, you won't," Dave said, speaking for the first time. "If any other hunters come in, we'll tell them you're our captive. They have to respect it, it's in the contract. Then we'll take you out into the woods safely and let you go." He gave her a rueful look. "Although why you should trust us not to kill you too, I can't say. You have no reason to. All I can do is give you my word we won't."

"The way you say it--and the fact that you mention it at all--goes a long way toward making me believe it," Melanie told him. She shrugged. "It's a risk I've taken before, anyway. With guys I didn't know as well as I think I know you." As the night went on, they talked about it some more, they made some plans; Fred wondered if it was possible that Melanie would be willing to join in in satisfying the men sexually before the actual killing took place.

Melanie nodded. "Yes, I'll do that," she answered. "And I'm going to offer you some advice here. If you want a peak experience, you don't want to come before you do Nadine. Or if you do, you want to wait a while before you do her, let yourselves come back up--that's what the guys did with Jill." She glanced at her friend. "Assuming she's determined to do this, it'll be best for you if you let us get you really turned on. Then you, you, well, you finish her. Then I'll bring you off."

"All three of us?"

"All three of you."

The men asked more questions about Jill and about the way she'd died; Melanie told them the whole story, stressing Jill's courageousness and the way she kept her sense of humor almost the whole time. Nadine herself suggested they do it basically the same way; that she be tied to a post and the men take turns stabbing her until she bled to death. She waxed enthusiastic about it, much as Cindy had, but with a different edge in her voice; an edge that suggested to Melanie that she really was excited by the idea. Taking Al's hand, she laid it on her lower belly.

"I want you," she told him, "to put it in me slowly. Slowly, gradually, gently. Don't slam it in. I don't care how much it hurts, and I don't want you to worry about that either. I want to be killed lovingly, not violently. Slip it in me softly, take your time killing me. I want to be able to see your eyes as you're killing me, I want to see the pleasure you're taking in it."

Al folded her up in his arms and kissed her. "We'll do our best, Nadine. Our very best." More talk of the same sort ensued; in very direct terms Nadine suggested various sites for the stabbings: her belly, her sides, her breasts, even her groin. She asked them not to stab her in the back, because she wouldn't be able to see their faces if they did that. This didn't continue too very long before the men's level of excitement reached a critical level, and before long Nadine was sucking Fred's long thin cock while Al's was buried in her cunt; at the same time Melanie and Dave made love yet again, for the third time that night. Finally, exhausted, they all slept.

The next morning, when the others girls were preparing to leave, Melanie and Nadine had to tell Audra they weren't going. This was met with shocked silence and then with arguments, but Nadine was immovable. Finally, yielding to the inevitable, the other girls said their tearful good-byes to Nadine and left. The men had to go back out to get their clothes and weapons; they were not gone long, but while they were the two girls hung near one of the gates, hoping to be able to make a quick escape if other hunters wandered into the village. None did, and soon enough the men were back; they, along with Nadine and Melanie, sat down on the eastern edge of the firepit, where the wall offered shade from the morning sun, which was shining brightly.

"There's another storm rolling in," Nadine said, gazing up at the sky. "It'll break before noon." She rested her elbows on her knees and then supported her chin on her fists. "We were lucky to have a dry night last night..."

"I don't think," Fred said, "that we're really very interested in talking about the weather..."

"I wonder why not?" Nadine asked with an impish grin. She patted his knee. "So we'll change the subject." She looked down shyly. "I'd like to see," she continued, "the knife you guys are planning to use on me..."

With a nod, Dave dug in his backpack and took out a small, slender, double-edged weapon. "This one for sure," he said. "We might use some others too." He offered it to her, hilt-first.

She took it from him and held it, examining it closely, testing the edge and the point, and running her fingers lightly up over the flat sides of the blade. "It's very thin," she noted. "It won't cause much bleeding, not if you just run it straight in. You'll have to stab me several times, or use the edge to cut me open."

"We like the idea," Al offered, "of doing you several times." He scooted in close to her, put an arm around her, and started running his hand up and down along her smooth bare thigh.

She leaned over against him, spreading her knees slightly in case he wanted access to her groin. "I like that idea too," she murmured. "I don't want a quick death." There was a faraway look in her eyes. "I'm not sure why not, there'd be less pain that way... maybe I just want to savor it, experience it, what it's like to die. I am scared though... maybe we should go ahead and get started..."

"We don't want to rush this," Dave told her. "This is once-in-a-lifetime for us."

Nadine smiled. "For me too," she reminded him. "But it's your call." She laid the knife down on a stone in front of her and let her hand stray to Fred's crotch, where his cock had already popped up and was straining at his pants. Dave, watching them, put his arm around Melanie's waist.

In response, she snuggled close to him. Dave, she thought, struck her as a really nice guy--whatever his fantasies might have been. He was, she mused, the sort of guy she might have been interested in establishing a long-term relationship with--had she met him under other circumstances, in another time. He teased her nipple with his fingertips and she shivered with pleasure. He was distracting, there wasn't a doubt about it; even with the seriousness of the situation she found herself thinking about how much she'd enjoyed the feel of his short goatee between her legs the previous night, and hoping she'd have a chance to feel it there again.

The sexual play that had begun continued for a long while, the men caressing the girls' naked bodies. Nadine was primarily involved with Fred and Melanie with Dave, but they rearranged themselves so that Al was between the two girls, the other men on the outside--the girls made sure he in no sense felt left out. Eventually they started removing the mens' clothing, a little at a time; it wasn't very long before Melanie got her wish, she found herself lying on her side while Dave's agile tongue whipped at her clit--while at the same time she was sucking Al's cock and playing with his balls. Beside them, Nadine had straddled Fred's lap and had impaled herself on his cock; they rocked together gently, acting like long-term lovers, kissing and caressing each other, at times acting almost desperate for each other.

It was Al who finally called a halt to it. "I'm not going to last much longer," he told Melanie, touching her head lightly. She pulled her head back immediately, releasing his cock; it throbbed, and a bead of pre-come appeared at the slit. Taking a chance, she licked it away.

Then she looked over her shoulder at Dave, who by then had his cock buried inside her. "I'm not doing much better," he said, shaking his head. He pulled out of her reluctantly, his cock dripping wet from her juices. Just as reluctantly, Fred and Nadine separated--but not until Nadine had had several orgasms.

"It's time we started, then," Nadine said. Her eyes were wet, her eyelids and lips slightly swollen, her breasts and her belly flushed slightly. She reached out and picked up the knife. "Who's going first?" she asked.

"We already decided," Fred told her, "that Dave would go first. We're going in age-order. Dave, me, then Al."

Turning to Dave, Nadine handed him the knife. "You want to tie me first?" she asked, her eyes huge. "You can... but you don't have to. I'd like to just hold onto your neck while you--"

She was cut off by a huge peal of thunder from directly over their heads. All five of them looked up, just in time to see lightning arch and branch, like bright running water, over the darkening sky. A few large raindrops struck the ground; a second later the wind swept through the trees, lashing their tops, and the chatter of heavy rain on leaves, approaching fast, could be heard.

Laughing, the girls helped the men grab up their things and they all sprinted for one of the huts. Nadine led them to one that was currently unused; they'd barely gotten inside when rain came cascading down on the village, an instant torrent. Melanie snapped on the torch-shaped lamps and soft reddish light illuminated the interior.

"I like it," Nadine said, looking out the door at the pouring rain. "We'll do it here, inside." She turned to Dave and saw that he'd laid the knife down on the little table in front of the mirror. She picked it up and handed it to him again. "Do you mind too much that I'm not tied?" she asked. She moved very close to him, then put her arms around his neck, pressing her body against his. "I won't fight you, I promise.." She kissed him and pressed hard against him, trapping his hard cock between their bodies. "Put it in me," she whispered hoarsely. "Put it in me, put it in my belly or in my side, I want it now, I want to feel it inside me..."

"Now?" Dave asked weakly.

"Now!"

He put his arm around the small of her back, holding her tight, and pressed the knife's point against her abdomen, right at her waistline and a little to her left. Feeling the touch, she gasped involuntarily and held him even tighter. Dave paused for a moment, a moment that seemed to stretch on and on.

Finally, abruptly, he took the knife away. "I can't do it," he said flatly.

Nadine frowned at him. "What?"

He pulled away from her. "I can't do it. Isn't this stupid? My lifelong fantasy. Here I am, right at the moment. I'm so excited I feel like I'm going to have a fucking heart attack. Everything's just perfect, more perfect than I could've ever imagined it might be. And I can't do it."

"Why not?" Nadine asked, her voice unsteady.

"Because I like you too much!" he shouted at her. "I don't want to see you dead, Goddamn it!"

Nadine rolled her eyes; Melanie giggled, and Nadine shot her a warning look. She took the knife from Dave's hand and offered it to Fred. "You can do it, can't you?" she asked him.

He pursed his lips. "No," he said. "Give it to Al."

"Not me!" Al cried, backing off. "Maybe if one of you two guys got it started..."

"I can't!" Fred yelled. "You have to! Damn it, I'm about three-quarters in love with her at this point!"

"This," Melanie said, shaking her head and grinning, "is truly a new one. I thought I'd seen everything..."

Dave looked around at her. "How about you, Melanie? Once we get started, maybe..."

Melanie erupted in laughter. "Not a chance!" she told him. "Hey, it isn't even my fantasy!"

"Oh, come on!" Nadine protested. "You think this was an easy decision to come to? I've offered to let you kill me, for Christ's sake! I want you to! That's what you came here for, to kill women! And you can't do it because you like me too much?"

Dave shook his head sadly. "All I know is I can't do it," he told her. "I guess all we can do is take you and Melanie outside, make sure you're safe from the other hunters, and let you go. This isn't going to work out."

"I don't believe this," Nadine muttered. "I just don't." She looked out the doorway of the hut, where the rain continued to pour down relentlessly. She was silent for several long minutes. "Well," she said at length, "there's no reason for anyone to even think about leaving right now." She gave the men a sideways glance; their erections had all wilted during the discussion. "I think," she said, giving them a big grin, "that we should just try again. Go back to what we were doing outside before the rain started, and then see where we are."

Dave grinned at her in turn. "I don't think things are going to change," he told her, "but I'm more than interested in getting back to what we were doing outside!"

Turning away from the door, Nadine went to him and started massaging his limp cock with her hands. "Just be sure you don't come," she warned. "Before you do, I want to talk about this again for a minute. Promise?"

Dave agreed; Melanie, who knew Nadine better than the men did, could not help but wonder what she was up to. There was something, she was sure enough of that. But, when Fred came to her and started touching her, she momentarily forgot about it. She'd not interacted with Fred sexually as yet, and she quickly started learning that he was almost as skillful, as considerate, and as sexy as Dave was.

For close to an hour, while the rain continued to pound the village, while the lightning played across the skies and the thunder shook the hut, the sex-play inside went on. Melanie was on her hands and knees, being fucked from behind by Fred, and, at the same time, eagerly sucking Al's cock once again. Nadine had knelt before Dave and was giving him a very tender, very slow, blowjob. The men honored Nadine's request; this time it was Fred who called a halt, though the other two men readily agreed.

"I think we should just go on, though," Fred said, kneeling behind Melanie, his cock throbbing. "Not a thing has changed as far as I'm concerned."

"Me either," Dave agreed.

"Okay, then," Nadine said. "Okay, I understand. Come on, everyone sit down here, right here in front of me." It seemed to Melanie that she was acting very nervous, but she and the three men obeyed. As soon as they were all in position, Nadine knelt down in front of them, both legs folded back, her knees widely spread.

Then, surprising them all, she picked up the knife, turned it toward herself, and pressed the point into the lower left side of her abdomen, almost at the exact spot where Dave had touched her with it earlier. "I'm going to do it myself," she told them. "I'm going to do the first one myself, and I'm hoping that after I do, you'll finish it for me." Fred leaned forward as if to speak, but she held her up hand, silencing him. "No, don't say anything," she pleaded. "You either, Melanie. I want this, I want this knife in me, I want to die today. Please, guys, I know it's your fantasy. Please watch me, and enjoy it; enjoy watching the crazy girl shove a knife into herself. If you really care about me, you'll do this for me." No one moved, no one spoke; Melanie, understanding how determined Nadine was, nodded sadly to her, moved to a position where she could reach all three mens' cocks, and began massaging Dave's and Fred's slowly with her hands. In response, Nadine gave her a brief smile.

"Take it easy on them, Melanie," she warned. "If they come too soon it'll mess things up." She started moving the knife, gliding the point up over her body. The men watched intently; she flicked her eyes up and grinned at them as she let the point move up across the swelling of her breast and come to rest on her nipple. Moving it across, she pressed the point into her other nipple for a moment, hard but not hard enough to break the skin. "I like that," she whispered seductively. "I like the way that feels..." After moving it around her chest for a while, she brought it back down to her belly. She poked her navel with it, then moved the point back to where it was when she started. Wrapping both hands tightly around the hilt, she pressed it hard against herself.

"Here goes," she murmured, and she pressed harder. Her expression suggested near-panic. Melanie felt the mens' erections bounce in her hand.

Nadine's eyes widened; her mouth dropped open, but then she started chewing her lower lip. Her arms trembled, but she kept pushing it against her abdomen nevertheless. "It... really hurts..." she gritted after a moment. "It isn't even in me yet and it hurts bad..." Breathing hard, she gazed directly at Fred. "It turns you on to see me in pain, doesn't it? I hope it does, I want it to..."

"Yes," Fred answered quietly.

"Touch me," Nadine told him. "Put your hands on my legs. You can feel it..." She paused, threw her head back, looked up at the ceiling, and took a deep ragged breath, a choking sob. "Oh, God... I want to do this, I will do this..." As the men reached out, laying their hands on her quivering thighs, she lowered her head again and again stared straight into Fred's eyes. Her expression suggested an almost frantic determination.

And, while their eyes remained locked together, she pushed again, harder than before. This time her skin yielded, and a quick little trickle of blood announced her success. Her eyes flashed open wider than ever, and her legs shook violently. Still maintaining eye-contact with Fred she pushed on, and, rather suddenly, two inches of the blade slid smoothly inside her. Her shoulders surged forward, and, finally lowering her head, she grimaced in pain.

"Please," she begged. "Someone go behind me, hold me up straight. I want to get it all the way inside me. Please, I need help, I can't make myself sit up straight..." Moving quickly, Al went around behind her, dropped to his knees, and pulled her up straight by her shoulders.

"Hold me by my tits," she asked him. "Squeeze them hard, really hard..." Again Al complied, sliding his hands down over her chest until he had one of her breasts in each hand. Nadine looked back at Fred. "This is for you," she told him. "I want to give this to you, I want you to have this..." Staring into his eyes as before and showing amazing willpower, she pushed on the knife again, smoothly and steadily drawing another three or four inches of the slender blade into herself. Blood began spilling out around it freely, running into her lap. "Oh," she moaned, "it's in me now... oh, god, it hurts..." She drew in another inch of steel. "You guys... deserve it..." she gasped out. "You... deserve to have your fantasy, you deserve to... have a girl die for you..." She pushed on the knife once more, burying the final inch of the little blade. Then she let go of it, and her hands dropped limply to her sides.

"I did it," she murmured, looking down at the knife sticking in her belly. "I did it. I'll die now; I'm already dead. There's no way for me to survive, not here--ask Melanie if you don't believe me. There's no reason now for you to hold back..."

"No," Fred agreed. "There isn't, we know that." He scooted close to her, took her in his arms, and kissed her long and hard. While they were kissing, he grabbed the knife and drew it swiftly and smoothly out of her. She winced and jerked, but she kept kissing him as it came free. Blood streamed freely down her leg.

"I can't believe you did this for us," Fred murmured, looking down at the flowing blood.

She lifted his chin. "I did it for me, too," she told him. "I want this, I want it to end like this, I really do."

He nodded and pulled her to her feet. Then he glanced around at Dave. "You mind if I do her next?" he asked. "I know it wasn't our agreement, but..."

"No," Dave said. "Please."

Fred turned back to her and held her tightly for a moment. Then, squeezing her slim body hard against his, he pressed the point of the knife into her skin under her ribs.

Nadine gazed up at his face and put her arms around his neck, just as she'd done earlier with Dave. "Please," she sighed when he hesitated. "I do want it, I really do... I want you to do it, I know it'll hurt but I don't care, I want you to feel the blade going in, I want you to feel it cutting through my entrails. I want to feel the blood running out, I want to feel the pain, I want to see the excitement in your eyes..."

"I know you do," Fred answered softly. He pushed hard, breaching her skin and burying an inch or so of the blade. She gasped and held his neck tighter. Gazing into her eyes, he followed her stated wishes exactly; he slipped it on into her body slowly and gently. Nadine raised one leg against him, ground her teeth, opened and closed her eyes several times. Fred maintained a steady pressure, and the blade slid ever further into her. Fresh blood streamed down her side, joining the stream still flowing from the wound she'd inflicted herself.

Finally, when the knife's blade was fully inside her and the fingerguards were resting against her skin, he let it go. Wrapping his arms around her, Fred kissed her mouth passionately. When he finally broke the kiss, she gazed into his eyes steadily. Her eyes were calm, her features smooth.

"That was perfect," Nadine whispered. "Just perfect." She started to say something else, but instead winced in pain. She grabbed at her side, panted for a moment, then seemed to calm down.

"We can end this quickly if you want, Nadine," Fred said, caressing her cheek. "You don't have to suffer any more pain..."

"No," she said firmly. "No, I don't want that. We're going all the way with this." She managed to force a little smile. "It's time for your friends to have a turn now..."

"Yes," he agreed. "I guess it is." He turned. "Dave?"

'Yeah." Dave, who'd been entwined with Melanie, disengaged himself and stood up. Fred passed Nadine to him, and he took her in his arms. "This is beautiful," he told her, stroking her side alongside the imbedded knife. "You're beautiful..."

"You're sweet," Nadine answered. Her eyes searched his, moving rapidly from one to the other. "Take the knife out of me," she whispered, "and put it back in. Put it in deep, Dave. I'll take it for you, I want to take it for you..."

Dave sighed. He held her tightly, wrapped his hand around the knife's hilt, and, following Fred's example, pulled it out of her quickly. More blood--much more blood--ran out of her. She weakened suddenly, her knees buckling. Dave caught her and helped her down to the floor; she sat down, then leaned back. Continuing to assist her, Dave let her down gently, leaving her lying on her back on the floor. Leaning over her, he kissed her and caressed her legs and her breasts. She rolled slightly onto her side; reaching out, she held onto his leg.

And he pressed the point of the knife into her side, just above the flare of her hip.

"Yes," she whispered. "Give it to me, give me the pain... let me take it for you..."

"I will, Nadine." Still stroking her breast with his left hand, he pressed down hard with the knife. Nadine went rigid; Dave pushed on, and, once again, the point broke through her skin. Her mouth open, her eyes closed, she pressed her face against his knee as the blade sank smoothly and steadily into her side. She stretched her legs out, then pulled them up again.

"Uh!" she cried. "It's down in my guts again... I can feel it cutting through them... it burns, it hurts, Dave, it hurts bad..." She raised her head, opened her eyes, and looked at his face. "I'm dying, Dave..."

"Yes," he whispered back. "I know you are."

She glanced down at her side. "Push it deeper, get it in deeper..." He did as she asked, forcing the blade on. She trembled and gasped repeatedly, but she just stared at his face as the steel sank into her. She was being very still, the puncture was very clean, and there was almost no bleeding from this one at all as yet. "Yes," she sighed. "Give me all of it, I want to take all of it for you, the whole blade..."

Dave did, in the end, give her the whole blade; he took his time, too, slipping it gently into her side. Melanie, watching, toyed with Fred's and Al's cocks. Following the standard that had been set, Dave called for Al and waited for him to take his place before leaving Nadine.

"Fred?" Nadine called weakly as Al began caressing her body. "Please, could you hold my head?"

Fred went to her instantly and, sitting on the floor, cradled her head in his lap. As soon as he was in position, Al, eager, pulled the knife up and out of her side. She gasped and spasmed; blood welled up quickly, pouring down over her side and pooling on the floor. Twisting her body, she rolled over on her back.

Nadine looked up at Fred, then at Al. She looked like she was about to fall asleep. "It doesn't hurt as much anymore," she said, slurring her words. "I want it to hurt for you, Al... put it in my chest, put it in through my nipple... right down through my nipple..." She arched her body. "Yes, through my nipple, right through it..."

"You sure, Nadine?" Al asked--but he was already moving the knife toward her breast.

"Yes, I'm sure... please, Al..."

Al nodded. "Nothing I'd like better," he muttered. He squeezed her breast up, then carefully located the point of the knife right in the center of the nipple, pricking it lightly.

"Yes, ohhh," Nadine sighed. "Oh, I do like that, push a little harder..." Al did as she said, tightening up the blade, indenting her nipple deeply. She pushed her head back against Fred. "Mmm, yes, harder, harder... it hurts good Al, harder..." He obeyed, and suddenly blood welled up, filling the little valley the knife had pressed in her breast.

She went rigid. "Ah, oh, yes, oh god, ohyes, oh, Al, oh, that hurts, oh... harder, oh...!" She squirmed as the blade began to sink in. Al had to work a little harder to get it in her than Fred and Dave had, and there were audible ripping sounds as the blade cut through her soft breast and then tore its way through the muscles of her chest. The blade did not pass in as evenly, either, it moved in by stages, by jumps. "Yes," Nadine murmured, much more softly. "Yes, stab me in my breast..." When the blade was fully buried, she looked up at Al and sighed. "Fuck me now," she said. She spread her legs. "Fuck me, fuck me to death. Fuck me with the blade, or fuck me with your cock and stab me, oh god, fuck me to death. Fred, hold me while he fucks me to death, hold me, keep me here as long as you can..."

Al looked up at Fred, then at Dave; both men nodded. Knowing the end was near, Melanie straddled Dave's legs and sank down on his cock; meanwhile Al positioned himself between Nadine's legs and slipped his cock slowly into her. While Fred held her head, caressing her cheeks and lips, he moved in and out a few times, then snatched the knife up and out of her breast. Her body jerked; foamy blood spouted up and out of her nipple. Holding the knife over her chest, Al moved on her again for a moment.

Nadine raised her arms above her head and held onto Fred's waist. She looked up at his face. "I could have loved you," she told him. There was a look of wonderment in her eyes. "I do love you..."

Tenderly, Fred bent over hard to kiss her. "I love you too," he told her. "I didn't think that was possible, but I do." He raised his head. "Kill her now, Al. Just do it, man." He looked back down at Nadine.

And Al stabbed her, hard and fast, in her breast above her nipple. She gasped and cried out softly, but she kept her eyes locked to Fred's. Al whipped the knife out and plunged it deep again, through her other breast. She choked; blood welled up in her mouth and spilled over her lips. Continuing to fuck her, Al established a rhythm, alternating between her breasts, the knife rising and falling steadily, piercing her deeply each time.

"Do it..." she gurgled. "Do it to me..."

Dave groaned loudly, a groan that turned into a yell; Melanie ground her hips down on his as he erupted into her. His orgasm seemed to go on for an impossibly long time, it seemed to her he was draining his whole being into her. Meanwhile, Al kept stabbing Nadine. She'd relaxed by then; her legs shook and jerked without coordination. Still, she and Fred kept staring into each others' eyes. Al stabbed her once more, then screamed and slammed his hips against her groin, exploding into her. The timing was perfect; Nadine's mouth had gone slack, her eyes stared up blankly, and she'd ceased to breathe. Her bladder emptied itself over Al's cock.

Melanie pulled herself off Dave's cock and reached for Fred. "Come on," she said urgently. "Let me..."

"Not necessary," he said, his voice flat. He lifted Nadine's lifeless head, showing her. He'd come in her hair. Al pulled out of her; Fred carefully laid her head on the ground, then arranged her arms and legs, folding her arms over her bloody chest and pulling her legs out straight. He closed her open and staring eyes.

Then he started to cry, great wracking sobs that seemed as if they would tear him apart. Dave and Al didn't seem to be in much better shape, but Melanie went to Fred, hugged him, and pulled his head down on her chest.

"It was what she wanted, the way she wanted," she told him, stroking his hair. "Remember that..."

He cried for a long time anyway. Later... much later... the four of them went to the shower and washed off the blood. By then the rain had stopped, the clouds were gone, and the sun made the wet village steamy. As they came back to the hut where Nadine's body remained, runoff dripped from the trees overhanging the village; to Melanie it seemed they too were crying for her friend, the fragile and passionate young woman who never should have been here in the first place.

In silence the men dressed and gathered their things together. Dave wondered aloud if they should move Nadine's body to some more appropriate place, but none of them, Melanie included, could decide if any other place was any more appropriate. In the end they contented themselves with moving her out of the pool of blood she was lying in and cleaning her up. In a way, as far as Melanie was concerned, that made it worse; now that her body was clean the stab wounds in her chest and belly were starkly obvious; before they had been at least partly masked by the drying red liquid.

After that--some time after that, no one was in a hurry to leave, although they did not talk much--the men escorted Melanie back into the deep forest. No other hunters gave them a problem, and, not far from the landmark the girls all knew as "Big Rock," she prepared to take her leave of them.

"I wish there was something I could say," Dave told her. "I'm sorry your friend is dead..."

"No," Melanie answered. "She was determined to have this, she didn't feel she could take it anymore. You gave her what she wanted, no more, no less. Apologies aren't necessary."

"But you'll miss her."

Melanie fought the threat of new tears. "Yes," she admitted. "I will." She waved her hands impatiently. "It's not unusual for us, Dave. We see our friends die all the time. All the time. There's nothing that can be done about it. At least Nadine was able to have it the way she wanted it. That's much more than most of us get."

Dave held her by her shoulders. "I'm worried about you," he said. "I really... think a lot of you, Melanie. I don't like leaving you here."

She shrugged off the hands, even though they felt very good. "There's nothing that can be done about that, either," she said harshly.

Dave took a step back, looking crestfallen. "I'm sorry," he said. "I really am." He started to turn away.

Melanie couldn't hold it. "Wait, Dave," she said. He turned back; she ran the three steps it took to get to him and threw her arms around him. "I think a lot of you, too," she murmured, laying her head on his chest. "I really wish we'd met under other circumstances."

"Maybe," Dave said, "I'll come back sometime. Not to hunt. Just to--"

"No," she said quickly, raising her head. "Don't think that way. We all live on an edge here. I could be taken tomorrow, or even this afternoon. You can't know. I'm a dead woman, Dave. A condemned prisoner. Don't think of me as someone you can come and see sometime. Forget about me, go home, find a nice girl, get married. If you have a daughter call her Melanie, or Nadine."

He sighed. "I won't be able to forget about you and Nadine, Melanie. It won't be possible. Just something I have to live with."

"And I'm sorry for that." She tipped her head up. "Now kiss me, one last time. Kiss me and go." He did as she said; the kiss was long and passionate, and after that he, Fred, and Al trudged off toward the lodge, their shoulders slumped. From the woods Melanie watched them go, and the tears she'd fought back earlier overwhelmed her now. For the next thirty minutes or so, she was fortunate a hunter did not happen across her trail; she was for that time totally unable to flee or try to defend herself.