Trespassers Will Be Violated

"No Hunting." the sign said, but Craig didn't pay it no never mind. Heck, the forest was beyond, plenty of forest, the chance of being spotted by the owner was slight to none. And the story was that this particular patch of forest held an eighteen point buck! Eighteen! God, if he could get that eighteen-point buck, he could get his picture on every newspaper in the county. Hell, the entire state!

Deer's antlers are gauged according to the number of points on the antlers. The older, the larger, the healthier the deer, the more points it will have on its rack of antlers. A good sized deer will have ten points on his rack, five on each side. Twelve-point bucks could be found, and every now and then, if you were lucky, you got a fourteen-point buck. Those were the ones that the papers loved printing. Once a generation, maybe, someone would get a sixteen-point buck, and that was good for the hunting magazines.

But an eighteen-point buck! God, to get one! That would be pretty damned close to bagging Bigfoot!

Craig had seen the antlers, shed by the deer the year before. Mice and other animals had gnawed away a large part of it, and only a portion remained, but the old-timers all agreed when they saw it. The rack had come off of an eighteen-point buck.

That deer had to be his! His, damn it! His the buck, his the trophy, his the fame and glory throughout all of McIntosh County!

So a sign forbade him entrance to this treasured ground? Hell, who cared a shit about that? He had himself a buck to bag!

There was the crisp crunch of leaves under his feet, the brisk bite of the morning air on his face, the small sounds of birds in the trees overhead, and once, the chitter-chitter-chitter of an incensed squirrel. Craig saw it, a light brown bit of furry fury, but it wasn't worth potting it. He needed a smaller gauge for hunting squirrels, if he blasted the squirrel with his thirty gauge, he would blow it into a bloody mess, not fit to eat.

So he left it behind, still cursing him fluently in squirrelese, and began to cast about. He didn't dare run dogs here, that would have announced him to the farmer in no time. He knew it was about, he would track it himself, by stealth and by sound.

There! Over there! A crackling of sound, an animal, a big one, moving in the middle distance.

Bushes were in the way, damn it! He couldn't see it, but it must be just the other side of those bushes! If he could see it, even a little of it...

There, there! A flash of light brown moving through a gap! Craig raised his gun, aimed it hastily for the flash of brown was gone, aimed where the beast would have to be, and fired. Boom!

The sound of the blast from his gun was like thunder, it reverbrated through the canopy, echoing over and over again, rolling in slow silence through the forest. And a startled sound that could have only been a cow!

"What the hell are you doing?" came a voice from behind him.

Craig turned around to see the business end of a shotgun aimed at him. "What the hell?" he said himself.

"What are you doing on my land?" the owner of the gun said to him. "And why were you shooting at one of my cows?"

"A cow?" Craig said. "Shit, I thought it was a deer!"

"Hunting on my property?" the farmer was outraged. "Didn't you see the signs I have posted all over the damned place, ever hundred feet all the way around?"

"Well, I...." Craig began.

"Did you see the signs?" the farmer insisted.

Craig began to become abashed, he looked at the ground and shuffled the toe of one boot through the leaves. "Yeah, I saw them." he said.

"So what the hell you doing here?" the farmer insisted.

"Man, I weren't planning on doing no harm." Craig said.

"You damned near killed one of my cows!" the farmer raved on.

"I didn't hit it." Craig pointed out.

"You were out here blasting away at anything that moved! Hell, man, you're fucking dangerous!"

"Man, I'm sorry!" Craig said. "I didn't mean to shoot at your fucking cows! I was after that there deer I heard about, is all!"

"Well, we'll just have to do something about this." the farmer said. "You're going to wait right here until I get the law out here."

Right about then, Craig started getting pissed! Hell, this guy expected him to just stand around while he went back to his home and phoned for the sheriff? To hell with this! "Look, man, I'll leave all right, but I'm damned if I'm going to hang around until you can get me arrested."

Craig turned around and started to walk off.

Pow! The slug went right past his ear, he heard it! Good goddamned hell! He spun around and said, "You crazy sack of shit!"

"You make one more move and the other one is going right between your eyes."

"You could have shot me!"

"And I still might!" the farmer said. "Now set down your gun."

Numb, Craig did as he was told, laid his gun down on the ground and at a motion, walked away from it.

"Now turn around." Craig did. "Now drop your pants."

"Huh?"

"I said to drop your pants."

"What? Why?"

"Drop your fucking pants!"

Guess he wanted to hobble Craig like that. Craig did as ordered, let his pants fall to his knees."

"Briefs, too."

Craig put his hands to his waist. His underwear was a small thing, skimpy little red thong-style briefs with white trim, he lowered them with some difficulty to his ankles and said, "Did you get a good look at my hairy crack?"

"Now bend over. Keep your hands on your knees."

"Hell." Craig did as he was told again. "This is goddamned sick, you know that, don't you, man?"

Silence from behind him. He tried again.

"Do you really plan to keep me like this, my butt sticking up in your face, until you can get the sheriff out here? You got a cell phone on you?"

Still silence. Then, Craig felt it. A hand on his butt-crack! "What the hell?" he started to turn around.

And his cheek ran right into the barrel of the farmer's gun! The cold steel kissed his face and he froze.

"Am I going to have any problem with you, boy?" the farmer said sternly.

Craig gulped hard. "No, sir." he said. Shit, he hadn't called anyone "sir" since he'd been nine years old!

"Good." the farmer said. "Just what a smart-ass like you needs, coming onto my property and ignoring my signs. Ain't right, coming onto my land without permission. Got to teach you not to do that, don't I?"

"What are you going to do?" Craig whined. Just like a little dog, he thought to himself. God, though, what else was he going to do here? He was at the mercy of a crazy man, a crazy man with a fucking gun!

The rough fingers of the farmer dug into his crack, found his hair-covered butthole and and probed at it obscenely. Craig winced, grunted as the hard, fat digit stuck itself into his sphincter. "Oh, oh!" he groaned. "Oh, oh, shit!"

The finger squirmed into his innards. Oh, God! What was this crazy shit doing to him? He just wanted a deer! Just a fucking deer, and his name in the papers! Now he'd be in the papers, all right, the guy who was fucked by a maniac in the woods!

As the finger wormed its way deeper into his bowels, he felt like fucking crying, just crying! Would this insane piece of shit kill him when he was done? Would they even find his body?

"Mmm, tight ass, boy." the farmer grunted. "Bet it's going to feel real good, when I stick it in you."

"Stick it in me?" Craig whinnied. "Really?"

"Yeah." the farmer murmured. "Got to punish you somehow. Coming on my land when you ain't wanted here. Teach you a lesson."

"But why?" Craig begged him. "I wasn't hurting you none!"

"Come onto my land, which I got posted. You saw the signs that told you to keep off and did you stay off? No-o-o-o! I'd be within my rights to shoot you. You just be glad I'm going to settle for a piece of your ass. Now hold that butt still so I can get it in you."

Craig shuddered and started to turn around, but the gun touched his cheek again and he froze without moving further. The fucker still had the gun to his head! Would he fuck Craig like that, his finger on the trigger. When he came, would the contraction of his body cause him to pull that trigger? Oh, my God! Would he die while a guy's dick was coming in his ass?

The cockhead touched his buttocks and he groaned in dismay! Shit, this fucker was big! The first time a cock being shoved into him, and it had to be a huge, fat dong! Why couldn't this shit-head be one of those tiny-willy no-accounts?

The glans touched his ravaged sphincter and new pain blossomed there. Not a bit of saliva or lube was there to ease the way, he was going to take a dry pud up his shit-chute! He wanted to try to run, hobbled as he was by his pants at his ankles, but the gun, the gun would kill him. If he held still, if he let this fat-cocked farmer fuck him, maybe he'd let him go after?

So when the farmer shoved and that horribly huge dong drove into him, he stifled the scream he wanted to let loose with, and managed only a strangled sort of moaning sound. Another shove, and now Craig could only keep it down to a groan. God, so damned big!

"Yeah, damn, yeah!" the farmer grunted. "Nice, tight ass on you, you damned trespasser. Teach you a lesson you'll never forget, hell, yeah!"

"Aw!" Craig moaned. "Aw, aw shit!" God, this thick dong inside of him, what the hell was it doing to him? It hurt, yeah, but what the hell else was it doing to him?

The farmer pulled it out slowly, and then back in, slowly. God, when he did that, it wasn't quite such a fucking nightmare!

His suspicion about it turned to a certainty as the farmer's thrusts into his butt gained in speed and vigor. Shit, he was getting into this! The pain from the insertion was mostly gone now, that fat finger had done a lot of the stretching for him, and now...oh, shit! Now it was feeling good!

"Aw, man!" he moaned now. "Aw, man, aw, man, aw, man!"

"Yeah, yeah, uh!" the farmer said. "God, damned, fellow, that butt of yours is beginning to milk at me!"

"Aw, man!" Craig said as the only words he'd let himself say. "Aw, man, aw, man!"

"Uh, yeah, damn, you fucking trespasser, you come onto my land, you damned fuck, you getting into my dick, now, are you?"

"No, no!" Craig moaned, but the very tone of his moans betrayed the lie. "No, man, no!"

"Oh, God, yeah, sweet, hairy butt, you fucking trespasser, coming on my land, I'm going to come in your ass, I'm going to come in your ass! Ooooohhhh!" the farmer lowed out like some fucking cow! "Uuuuhhh, uhh-uhhhhh!"

"Oh, crap, oh, crap!" Craig moaned. "Oh, oh, oh!" God, his cock was humming like it had never done before, he was fixing to come himself!

"Ooh, oooh, ooooohhhhhh!" the farmer moaned, and now it was less the cow and more of the bull.

"Oh, crap, oh, crap!" Craig moaned, shit, he was going to come, he was, he was!

"OH, OH, GUH, UHHHH, UHHHH!" the farmer crowed out.

"OH, MAN, OH, CRAP, OH, SHIT, OH, FUUUUUCCCCKKKK!" Craig moaned.

And he came, he shot his wad right out of his cock and it sprayed out in front of him, he watched it flying out onto the golden leaves of the forest floor, God, he'd come from being fucked by a crazy farmer man!

"UHH, GUHH, SHHUH, UHHHHH!" the farmer groaned and now Craig felt the hot salty spray of jizm in his butt, he could feel it stinging his innards, the farmer was coming in his butt and he was feeling it in his butt, God, he had a crazy man's come in his ass!

"Aw, fuck, aw, fuck!" Craig moaned. "Fuck, shit, damn, hell, fuck!"

"Huh, uh, uh, uh, uh!" the farmer was still hunching at him, still that hard dick was pumping his butt.

"Oh, God, oh, God!" Craig moaned. God, what had just happened here? What had happened to him? God, what was he, that he could come from being fucked in the forest while a man held a gun to his head.

The gun? Where was the gun to his head? He turned his head, and the farmer was behind him, panting heavily, the gun was at his feet. When had that happened?

He struggled his briefs and pants up in one motion, together, the cloth wrinkled where it shouldn't and the briefs didn't feel right on his body, but fuck that. The farmer saw him moving, but made no effort toward the gun.

Craig started over and got his own gun, and now the farmer did raise his rifle, but now, Craig ignored it. Hell, what did he have to lose now? He slung his own rifle over his shoulder and said to the farmer. "You tell anyone about this and I'm going to come hunting for you instead of that fucking eighteen-point buck."

"You after that eighteen-point buck?" the farmer said and burst out laughing. "Hell, that story's been around this county for near on to fifty years. They saying it's on my place now?"

"Yeah." Craig admitted sheepishly.

"Shit." the farmer said. "More men coming onto my land after a damned buck that don't exist. No deer ever gets more than fourteen points. And those are damned rare."

"Bigger racks exist." Craig persisted.

"Doubt it." the farmer said. "Well, I can tell you ain't no eighteen-point buck or any other kind of deer on my property. Now get the hell out of here. Lessen' you want to get your butt fucked again."

"Fuck you." Craig said and strode away in a fury.

The next day, he was back at the store, picking up a fresh load of shot. He'd bagged his deer earlier that morning and couldn't hunt any more deer this season, but he could hunt squirrels and rabbits still. But it calls for a different rifle and a different kind of shot, so the trip to the store.

The old-timers had a young man in thrall, handling a piece of a deer's antlers in awe as they told him about the eighteen-point buck.

"Found this over by the Yawness River." one of them said.

"Yeah?" the youth said. "Wonder if he's still there?"

"You got a license." the old-timer said with a barely supressed smirk. "Why don't you go look for him."

The smile on the young man's face was one Craig recognized. It had been in his mirror staring back at him, until he had fallen foul of a certain horny farmer.

When the man started out, Craig went after him. "Hey, fellow, that deer they were telling you about."

"What about it." the youth said insolently. That glint in his eyes was unmistakable, he wasn't going to listen to Craig.

So Craig said, "I saw him earlier this morning myself. I can't get him, what with this deer already done, but you might bag him."

"Where is he?" the young man panted.

Craig gave him directions. "Just look for the No Trespassing' signs." he concluded. "That's where he is, why he's so big and fat. Nobody ever dares go on that land to hunt for him."

"Yeah." the man said. "Well, thanks for the hint, man."

Craig shook the proferred hand with barely supressed glee. "Glad to oblige you." he said. "Happy hunting."

It was true what they said, Craig thought as he watched the pickup taking off. Misery does love company. Yes, indeed. His biggest problem was not having anyone to talk with about it.

But he'd have someone to commiserate with before nightfall.

THE END
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