They took several photos. Bill's favorite was the one with Greg bent over and Bill's rifle up his hole. The look on Greg's face was priceless.
Then it became boring for Greg. Tied to a rack and waiting for the other boys to be caught took the whole day which meant that Greg had to wait until the next morning before they went home.
The hunters were not creative. Todd had his head, hands, cock, balls, feet, and asshole but nothing else. All the others shared the same fate as Chad but apparently there were other hunters and huntees out because there were eighteen cocks and balls mounted as trophies. (Bill had clicked on the option to make it "normal".)
Steven complained, "We did good but either my own boys escaped or they were caught by other hunters. I so wanted to see their cocks mounted above my fireplace."
Finally, they headed home. Bill must have done something to Greg because as they drove, the rack became burning hot but Greg wasn't injured. He felt the intense heat and he felt the air speed past him at sixty miles per hour. He even felt pelted by all the sand and bugs in the air but he wasn't injured. He also noticed that he hadn't eaten or drank anything for at least twenty-four hours but he wasn't hungry or thirsty. In fact, he had stopped breathing. He had remained slumped like a deer the entire time without feeling any need to move. He did a little test and found he could still move (as much as the ropes allowed). He just didn't need to move. He had raised his hand but his hand stayed upright without any effort. Then he examined the rest of himself and found that his cock was still hard even though it had been ignored for at least twenty-four hours.
They stopped at a one shop town for lunch. You know those towns in the middle of nowhere that consist of a single building but that one building is a combination gas station, store, and a few other convenient amenities for travellers.
While Greg waited, he saw a familiar face. Jory was a year younger than Greg but was the brother of one of Greg's friends. So he frequently tagged along wherever Greg and his friends went. He was a real nerd, far more interested in insects than in sports or cars. Greg didn't like Jory much but he tolerated the tagalong. On rare occasions, Jory could be fun (to pick on).
It took a while before Jory noticed Greg and by that time, Bill and the other hunters were coming back out. Jory said, "Greg, is that you? Hi Mr. Marsden. Did you bag your own son?"
Bill Marsden said, "I bagged both my boys. Do you want to see?"
"Yea." Bill opened the trunk and pulled Jeff out. "Wow. You turned Jeff into a blanket."
"A rug, actually."
Jory turned back to Greg and played with his cock. "You sure got a nice set on this one. What is he, nine?"
"Nine and a half. Here's some pictures."
"Wow, you stuck a rifle in there?" Jory stuck his finger where the rifle had been. Then Jory whispered to Greg, "Wait till I show you off to my brother. I'll find other things to put up here besides a rifle."
Bill asked, "Jory, is your dad going to hunt you?"
"Nah, he wants to teach me how to hunt but it never worked out before."
Then Jory's dad and brother walked out of the store. "I've got bad news son. I was only able to get one hunting license."
"I don't get to hunt?"
"I'm determined to teach you how to hunt this year. I've put it off long enough. So you got the hunting license and you get to hunt your brother and I." He pulled down his pants, won't that be a nice trophy, your first buck. You just need to listen to instructions and make sure you get me. Don't let any other hunter snag me from you."
Jory's brother complained as they went back to their car. Just before they took off, Jory ran back. "Mr. Marsden, may I borrow Jeff to use as a blanket?"
Bill pulled Jeff out. "Sure."
Jory said, "He sure has a nice tushy."
That was the last Greg saw of Jeff that day, his tushy slung over Jory's shoulder.