You pant as you run through the undergrowth. In the distance, frightfully close, you can hear the baying of the hunting dogs and the hooves of her horse splashing through the mud. You think back to how you got here. It should have been obvious that this was too good to be true. Why would a beautiful, wealthy woman like her take an interest in you, a nobody? Why would she invite you to her mansion, share a dinner with you where you drank (too much) wine that costs more for a single glass than you make in several years, and all the while eyeball you like she wanted to undress you right there. This was why, she was imagining this, as you ran for dear life.

You were a bit tipsy from the wine still when she lead you to a back porch, to a grand vista of the green field of her expertly maintained yard, directly across from a horse stable. She bid you to wait a moment, biting her lip as she closed the door behind her. She returned momentarily, having changed her outfit into a riding jacket that hugged her body tightly. She smiled alluringly as she made a show of the riding crop in her hand. You thought this might lead into some kind of fetish play when she walked to a nearby wooden chest, bending down and giving you a clear look at her bottom outlined against her equestrian pants, but then coming back up with a shotgun in hand.

You weren't sure how to feel as she smiled at you, gun in hand. "I'm going to give you a headstart,