It was almost 1800 hrs but Jack had told his son the best time for hunting was dusk as the animals were nocturnal, being extremely timid, especially this time of year when more men came into the wood. During the day they'd hole up somewhere, difficult to track even by their spoor.

They spent the night in a small camp just inside the perimeter of the hunting preserve. High electrified fences stopped the animals from escaping. The wood was cut back far enough that even from the highest tree top the game couldn't jump out or climb over.

The only ways in or out were two guarded gates at the north and west sides. The guards had shotguns and even grenades.

Darren sported a hardon. Anytime he had a gun in his hand he got stiff. He was twelve, starting to shoot up tall and getting good muscles. At home, if he got a hardon, he had the roam of the house. His mother and younger sister Amy took care of him. They were obligated. Jack had made that clear to both of them long before it became an issue.

Jack was 42, his hair beginning to gray at the ears. He'd put in 20 years in the USMC, retired as a Master Sergeant, and now had a good and growing business in construction. With six men working for him, he was mortgaged up to the eyeballs in heavy equipment. Jack stood six feet two and was muscled like a bull, not an ounce of fat on him. He loved his son and carefully brought him up in his footsteps, yet let the boy make his own choices as much as possible.

They were Freedom Fighters, Jack had explained to Darren years before. Fighting to preserve the constitutional rights of all American men. Guns were near the top of the list, the sanctity of home and property probably being at the very top. Women were property.

The preserve in which they hunted was stocked with donated property from the membership.

Jack and Darren hiked in about three miles and set up observation in a small copse of high grass. Jack had explained the night before that animals need water, so if you want to hunt, wait for them to come to the water. Of course, if you wanted you could blunder about in the woods making a lot of noise and scaring them off. Patience was the better way.

Darren told him he'd heard from friends that some guys hunted with helicopters, dropping their nets and bagging sometimes six or eight animals at a time. "And Billy told me they even kill them, is that true Dad?"

Jack took a snort of Johnny Walker and offered the flask to his son.

"Talk quietly, Darren. It used to be about two years ago, we let some guys from back East come in during the high months, use choppers. We cut that off after a couple months. Our own members have first usage and it wasn't very, what shall I say, sporting, eh? I mean, you gotta give the creatures a chance, you know, else it's not as much fun.

"I was a guide on one of those hunts, and the men were decent enough sorts, even though back home they wore suits. But they were very greedy. They didn't understand the need to conserve the population.

"Yes, son, they did kill some. I mean, I never criticize a man for his personal tastes, and they'd paid us good money to hunt. But I remember there was this one fellow, see, we'd just landed after netting three animals. Big fat guy. He was real excited with the oldest one, a full grown female it was, probably 20 years old at least, hell maybe more. She was a fighter too, clawing and snarling through the net. God was she a sight, Darren, hadn't been in a stream in months by the looks of her, malnourished, real hairy. I mean, shit Darren, her bush was down to her thighs. But she had fine hindquarters and any guy would be thrilled to say he'd caught her.

"He got her hooked up in a single net and two of his buddies took her behind a bush and the rest of us could hear it going on. She fought hard and her guttural cries brought out the hunting instinct in all of us. Not a man jack of us didn't have a boner. I heard her cry when he vanquished her, and we all laughed thinking of what a kick that must have been for him. A little while later he came out of the bush with her severed head held by the matted hair. Frankly, Darren, I almost puked. I wasn't expecting that."

Darren was breathing deeply. His cock was rock hard. Jack looked over at him smiling. He tousled his boy's hair. "Nice cock, son."....(cont)