Why are you shaking already? I grant you a five second headstart, that's more than most prey get, where's your gratitude? Of course we both know how this will end - but the thrill of the chase is as crucial for me as the false hope of freedom is for you, so hide as best as you can and run as fast as your legs allow and pray that I'll be quick once I get you beneath my claws. At least for five seconds, you may think yourself in advantage, and grasp onto naïve optimism, and for the following minutes after, you can drown yourself in instinctive panic, the heavy, defeaning thumping of your own heartbeat and shallow breath as you listen for my steps, for any rustling between the trees... for my voice, suddenly too close to your ear, whispering "Caught you".
And then, only then, should you start shaking, begging, crying, fighting back so pathetically and desperately, as if any of it will stop me from pushing your body into treacherously soft, wet moss, keeping you down with claws digging into your sensitive skin, and making you feel all the more vulnerable, helpless, weak when I force my weight fully onto your body and sink into a hole that certainly should not be this wet and willing to take me as it turns out to be, growls ringing in your ear, tears running down your face, whimpering turning into moaning much faster than it should.
And you will be shaking when I'm finally done with you, left in a puddle of your own slick, mixed with cum and sweat and your blood, when your chest is heaving and your body too exhausted to care or protest when I pick you up and decide that you shall stay my toy for as long as your body can endure it.
