A/N: all things Twilight belong to Stephenie Meyer. This is a tale with highly explicit sexual content intended for adult entertainment only and therefore it should not be read by an under age readership. For those of you who are old enough, I hope you'll like it. Good reading.

Hunting party (aka Master of the orgasm)

First chapter

Rosalie Hale volunteered to drive, Alice Brandon decided the date, Esme Platt chose the place and I, Isabella Swan – Bella to my friends – was in charge of the meals during the two days of our camping trip.

We were four best friends forever since elementary school, and we got along wonderfully despite our totally different personalities. We were all twenty-six, with our lives ahead of us, and we wanted to take advantage of it as best as we could.

Rosalie was a tall and gorgeous blonde who'd made a career in modeling – she'd been a top model, in fact – before retiring and opening her own garage. Alice was a petite woman with black short hair and wide doe eyes. She was a fashion designer and she already had her own boutique on Madison Avenue. Esme worked for a firm of architects at which she was the rising star. Because she was the oldest of six siblings and her youngest brother was still a little boy, Esme was the motherly one of the four of us. Her parents would ask her to baby sit when they wanted to go out and she didn't mind, quite the contrary; she liked to please the people she cared about. As a result, she tended to keep an eye on us so we wouldn't get ourselves into trouble. As for me, I was teaching literature to a bunch of teenagers in a neighborhood of Brooklyn, namely Williamsburg. I wasn't paid much, but I loved my job.

I didn't have to pay a dime to be part of the camping trip. Heck, the girls begged me to join them, actually. They suggested that I prepare the meals since I was the best cook among the four of us. So that's how we found ourselves in the Catskills one sunny September afternoon. The mountains reminded me a little of my childhood in the Olympic Peninsula. My parents were from Forks, a small town located out West in the state of Washington, but they divorced when I was a baby and I had been raised by my dad, who was the town's police chief. However, at fourteen, I'd decided to go live with my mom in Arizona. Of course I stayed in contact with my three friends, which is how we all came to live in New York City, just like the girls from Sex and the City.

It was still light out when our car pulled on to a secondary road that led to a private property. From there we had to hike until we reached the wild. We wanted peace and quiet during our weekend away from civilization. We were assured there were no bears in the area, and it was enough for my peace of mind. Besides, Rosalie brought her pepper spray in case we had any bad encounters. The walk to the camping site was to take about an hour. We were all burdened like donkeys, some with the equipment to fix the tent, some with the accessories to cook. Alice carried a bag twice her size containing our personal effects and our clothes, and I carried the food supplies – things to prepare cheese fondue, omelets, and even chicken cacciatore.

We arrived at the camping site utterly exhausted, or at least I was. I dropped my backpack on the ground covered with spruce needles, happy that I only stumbled five times on the path. I sat on a huge rock to watch Rosalie and Esme assemble the tent, which was big enough for us to stand up in once ready. Alice ventured into the nearby forest to fetch some dry wood to light a fire.

I searched inside my bag to get the latest novel by Philip Roth. I barely had the time to turn the first page when I heard a scream coming from where Alice had entered the forest. It was actually Alice who had shrieked, but I couldn't make out if it was out of fear or surprise.

A few seconds later she reappeared, but she wasn't alone. Four men were escorting her; they were dressed like hunters, and this fact confused me because it wasn't open season yet. I froze on the spot. There was something puzzling about the situation, for those men were not total strangers. If I were to ask my friends, they'd probably be as perplexed as I was. Those four men were well-known personalities here in the US. They were Edward Masen, CEO of Softag Entreprises, his brother Emmett Masen, the star quarterback for the New England Patriots, Jasper Whitlock, founder of the Red Dragon martial arts schools, and last, but not least, was Carlisle Cullen, the British physician who invented a substitute to platelets in the treatment of leukemia.

All four approached our campsite, holding Alice close by. Rosalie and Esme stopped what they were doing when they heard Alice's scream, and they turned to see what was going on. Rose frowned while Esme spoke, "Good evening, gentlemen. May I ask you what you're doing here? This is private property."

The doctor answered, "Good evening to you too, ladies. We're sorry to interrupt your set up, but we wish for you to follow us."

"In your dreams, you moron," Rosalie replied bluntly.

Well, maybe she didn't know who this man was after all…

"Rosalie," Alice said in a panicked tone, "I think it'd be best to comply with these men. They have guns."

"Your friend is right," Edward said. "And we don't want to be forced to use them."

He turned in my direction; I was motionless on my rock and unable to move away from there. I was deep in my thoughts, but I must have looked like an idiot from someone else's standpoint. I was trying to convince myself that despite their weird request, those guys couldn't want to harm us. They were too famous to mingle with organized crime. Then again, what did I know about the organized crime world?

Only a few seconds passed and already the patience of one of the men was wearing thin. "Come on, bro," Emmett groaned, "you can see that your way isn't working."

Edward was now staring at me attentively and even seemed to not have heard his brother. Our eyes met and I tried to hold his gaze. He had green piercing eyes and a physique to die for. He probably could have all the women of the planet at his feet, knew it and took great advantage of it. I ended up saying, "I'd rather kill myself than agree to go along with some strangers just because they demanded it."

I wanted to provoke the CEO and watch his reaction upon hearing my bold words. His expression became furious and then he answered his brother, "I hate to admit it but you're right, Emmett. It seems that these stunning beauties would choose to run away into the woods at the risk of being attacked by a wild beast rather than agreeing to come with us on their free will." Then he addressed Jasper. "All right, Jazz, you can put them to sleep."

The martial arts teacher was so fast that none of us had the time to react. He took a dart gun out of his pocket and first shot Alice who was standing right in front of him. Gosh, with his tall and lean figure, the blond guy looked like a giant behind her, tiny as she was. Then he aimed at Rosalie who had dared talk back to the men, and at Esme who was having a hard time grasping the gravity of the situation because of her good nature. Finally he shot me and I received the dart in my left arm like it was a vaccine against the flu. I was unconscious before I hit the ground.

ooooo

I woke up in a room with walls consisting of logs of wood; it looked very rustic. I was in a bed, still in my clothes – thank God – and there were three other beds, which were occupied by my friends. Rosalie awakened shortly after me, followed by Alice and Esme, as if we had been programmed like a clock or something.

"Are you all right?" I asked with a voice full of anxiety.

"Well at least we weren't dismembered," Rosalie replied sarcastically. "Tell me, am I mistaken or we've been kidnapped by the star player for the Patriots, the handsome Emmett Masen in flesh and bones?"

"You did recognize him, then? And what about the others?" I went on.

"I think that Emmett's brother owns a company that is doing businesses with China, but I don't know much about management, actually," Alice admitted. "My accountant is running my business for me, I must confess."

"And I recognized Doctor Carlisle Cullen," Esme sighed. "How could I not? He's so damn good looking!"

"Oh and the tall blond guy who stunned us with his stupid dart gun, that's Jasper Whitlock, a former Kung Fu World Champion," Alice finished.

"I wonder where we've been taken," I mused aloud.

As if on cue to respond my question, the door opened at that moment and a beautiful woman even more blonde than Rosalie entered the room. She was holding a pile of towels and bathrobes in her arms.

"Good morning, misses, I hope you had a good sleep. My name is Tanya and I'm in charge of your body care."

What?

"You could start by telling us where the hell we are and what the fuck we're doing here," Rosalie snapped.

"You've been chosen to be part of the seminar our clients are attending," Tanya said.

I had to let her know she had it all wrong. "Ma'am, we haven't been chosen; we've been abducted."

"I understand that you're not here on your free will, but you've been chosen all the same, believe me," Tanya replied.

"Explain yourself," Esme demanded. The situation was beginning to get on her nerves, too.

"Our four current clients are here to manage some behavior problems towards women."

We all frowned.

"Are you talking about the Masen brothers, Doctor Cullen and Mr. Whitlock, ma'am?" I asked.

"Indeed. Yesterday evening, Garrett sent them to fetch you."

Fetch us? Am I dreaming or what?

"But how did they know where to find us?" Rosalie questioned, slowly boiling.

Watch out when she explodes…

"I already said too much as it is, so don't ask more questions, okay? I'm here to show you the spa room so you can prepare for the meeting."

"What meeting?" Alice asked.

"The meeting with our clients."

"Fucking shit, it's NOT okay!" Rosalie burst out. "You're talking about us like we're fucking whores!"

"I don't know how this meeting will go, Ms. Tanya," I said, "but be aware that my father's highly graded in the police force and all of you will have to justify your actions in a court of law."

"It's because you don't know what's in store for you that you're threatening me, sweetie," she answered very coldly.

No, I didn't know, and I didn't want to know either. Didn't this woman just say that the men present in this place had some problems with women? What kind of problems?

I stood up to get one of the towels Tanya had put on the bed closest to the door.

"Come on, girls, let's at least shower to clear our minds," I commanded, leading the way.

I could confront Edward and his pals all right, but I'd rather do it without looking like a filthy tramp. I don't know how I was brought here, but right now I was dirty from head to toes.

ooooo

When I exited the bedroom, I realized that we were in one of those luxury spas I saw inside the pages of fashion magazines: the kind of place that offered oat milk baths, hot stone massages and sugar scrubs. I was getting the creeps just thinking about it.

When I was done showering in a private stall, I saw another beautiful woman approaching me, "I received orders to take care of your depilation, Miss Swan."

I thought I would have a heart attack and that they would need to call an ambulance. Yet nothing happened as the young woman led me to another room and had me lie down on a table covered with warm sheets.

"My name is Kate," she said gently to calm me down.

Jeez, I must look terrified… maybe I shouldn't worry so much about that kind of care. Maybe another woman would do the happy dance in my position.

Stop it, Bella, you're delusional. Everybody knows that waxing is a kind of torture…

"Normally I would use sugar or hot wax to do this but since you're only here for a couple of days, I'm just going to use a little shaver."

Someone probably put a drug in the water we used for showering because I couldn't find the will to protest, and it wasn't normal.

You read too many surreal novels, Bella.

And why the heck did she want to make my pussy look the way it did when I was eight? Yet I didn't raise a finger to stop the young woman and I let her start to shave my pubic hair. Well, it wasn't that bad, actually, because the electric razor wasn't pulling my hair, it was just cutting it very short. But then I felt the little device going closer down my slit, where I was very sensitive, and its slight vibration started to arouse me. Shit. I had hair near my entrance as well; what was going to happen if I couldn't control myself? And how was I supposed to even control myself if my arousal reached its limits and Kate was still touching me? I felt her fingers spreading my folds to use the shaver on a spot that no one but a lover would normally pay attention to.

I couldn't repress a swift move because I knew my arousal was showing in many ways. I was so humiliated at that moment, but I just grabbed the table sides with my fists and bit my lips not to moan.

"Ticklish, I can see. Don't fuss, I'm almost done," Kate said.

I wanted to slap her for putting me in such an embarrassing state. I felt moisture between my legs and I was sure I had soiled the sheet I was lying on at the place where my body was not covered with the towel. If Kate noticed, she didn't mention it. She followed my labia with the razor and I understood that she intended to leave me as smooth as I was the day I was born. Crap, why wasn't I just dreaming this dreadful ordeal?

The young woman was shaving the area near my anus now and I thought I was going to pass out as my arousal went even higher just like I was afraid it would. I was ashamed that my body reacted like this, but then again, what a stupid idea to touch me in a region that was so sensuous? At last Kate was done and I let out a deep sigh of relief. I wanted to go hide under the bed in which I had slept… how many hours exactly?

I put on a bathrobe and literally flew out of the water room in search of my friends. They were having their breakfast in a large open area in the middle of the spa. Unlike me, they didn't need to get waxed or shaved, for they were all taking care of that during their weekly visit to the Estee Lauder institute. I didn't have their financial means, but even if I did earn their kind of money, I wouldn't spend it on facials, manicures, pedicures and whatnot. I hated to be taken care of; I hated it even more after what just happened to me.

It was still early morning according to the sun I could see slowly rising in the sky through a glass wall. Even though I hadn't eaten since the day before, I wasn't hungry. I poured myself some orange juice to save face, thinking of all the food that would go to waste at our camp site. The worst thing about our situation was knowing that we couldn't leave the premises because we'd been deprived of all our personal belongings, including the clothes we were wearing before entering in the shower. We were left with only the damn bathrobes...

A guy in his thirties with a vaguely aristocratic demeanor walked to our table. "Good morning, ladies. My name is Garrett and I've come to take you to the meeting."

Were we to assume he was the establishment's manager? If so, I had a question for him.

"I've been told I would stay here for a couple of days, sir," I stated quietly.

"Yes, indeed. For three days, to be specific. That's the arrangement with our clients," the man answered.

"And do your clients know that I have students to educate during the week?"

Garrett stared at me like I had said something gross.

"You teach literature, Miss Swan. With all due respect, I don't think your pupils will die if they skip a day hearing about Miller or F. Scott Fitzgerald," he replied derisively.

What an asshole…

"My students are fourteen, for fuck's sake! Do you seriously think I have them read Henry Miller?" I retorted, furious.

"I was talking about Arthur, of course."

And condescending on top of it…

"Come on, Bella, drop it," Esme whispered, putting a reassuring hand on my shoulder to defuse me.

I just wanted to cry. And how on earth did this Garrett person know about the subject I was teaching? That was odd.

We left the central room and followed Garrett into a smaller room. It looked like a boudoir, what with the comfy couches and plenty of cushions everywhere. We settled silently on one of the huge sofas, as none of us felt like chatting. Soon the four hunters entered the room; they were dressed casually, which contrasted dramatically with the way they looked when we'd met them yesterday.

Rosalie instantly pounced on Emmett. She scratched his face with her nails – lucky for him they weren't long anymore. Her action was so quick that the football player didn't have time to protect himself. She retreated to her seat as fast as she had jumped from it.

"Fucking bitch!" he screamed, holding a hand to his bloody cheek.

"I heard that's the way you like women: wild and aggressive. Oh wait! I read that you like them passive and ready to submit to your every whim," Rosalie spat at him. "Which one is it? Don't tell me, it doesn't matter. I don't play in any of these leagues anyway. That little slap was only payback for what you did to us yesterday evening. Or at least I think it was yesterday…"

Garrett chose that moment to intervene. "I'm sorry that our clients used a sedative to bring you here. I'd recommended that they discuss and convince you to come willingly. It is clear that they need to learn patience. The first exercise of the day will be perfect with regard to that."

"Are you going to tell us what this is all about at last?" Alice asked.

Her hair was all spiky. I wondered where she'd found the products she needed to style it. I furtively tried to look at the men, half hiding under a pile of cushions. Jasper had been staring at Alice very intensely ever since he'd set foot in the room. Emmett was seething but somehow he was looking at Rosalie with lust in his eyes. Carlisle seemed to be lost in his thoughts when he was not peeking in Esme's direction. As for Edward, he was unabashedly ogling me as if doing so long enough would make my barricade of cushions and my bathrobe become invisible. What was wrong with him? And why the hell were they all standing in the center of the room instead of having a seat like the rest of us? Well, maybe this was part of the exercise Garrett had mentioned… Nevertheless, the situation was beginning to be unbearable.

"Doctor Cullen, do you want to enlighten these young women on the reason for their presence here?" Garrett asked in return.

"Certainly," agreed the physician. "Ladies, you probably don't know it, but you've been spied on over the last month."

"Come again?" Rosalie shouted, totally infuriated. "Spied on for what? And by whom?"

"Because each one of us needed to find a partner for the seminar," the Softag CEO answered, sighing as if this would make the guilt he seemed to feel disappear. "And it was very easy to hire a private investigator to watch all of your whereabouts."

Oh God, that was utterly creepy. All of a sudden I wanted to punch Edward in the nose and make him bleed like his brother. But before I did so, I wanted him to answer my question.

"Mr. Masen, the things you did to get to us here are quite morally debatable – although if you ask me they are downright despicable – but so far I still don't understand why it had to be my friends and I who got involved in your schemes," I said, holding his gaze like I did the day before.

"I'm the one who suggested the idea," the martial arts teacher responded, turning to face me. "A few weeks ago while dining and drinking a bit too much in a Tribeca restaurant, we noticed a party of four young and charming women laughing and clearly having a good time. Some beauties, really. I told my friends right then and there that it would be great if we could do the seminar in the company of these astounding creatures. So we did what was necessary to make that happen."

Jasper had a bit of a southern accent which made it difficult to fully understand him, but if I followed his explanation correctly, we were the beauties he was referring to. His comment was in fact intended to be flattering, but knowing we'd been treated like objects was somewhat insulting.

"Well, you can stick that stupid seminar up your ass. I'm going to lock myself in the bedroom until it's over," I retorted to no one in particular.

"I'm sure you'll change your mind when you learn what the seminar is about, little kitten," Emmett sneered.

Garrett continued, "These gentlemen have a tendency to treat women like sexual objects whose only purpose is to satisfy their needs. They came here to change their behavior."

"I can't wait to see how a pig can be turned into a prince," Rosalie snickered.

As for me, I was beginning to see where this whole seminar thing was headed and my heart started to beat erratically. Our host confirmed my suspicions. "I'm going to randomly pick which of you ladies will go with which of these gentlemen, for a session destined to test the limits of their desire. Gentlemen, here are the instructions: you have one hour to explore your partner's body and provide said partner with the most pleasure you are able to within the prescribed time. However, on your side you are not allowed to get a release out of this test."

"That's what I thought!" Rosalie exclaimed, offended. "They want to use us as their private prostitutes!"

"How many guys do you know who aren't allowed to cum with a prostitute?" the football player asked my friend in barely comprehensible slang.

Unfortunately, or fortunately, depending on how one wanted to think of the guy, his logic was working…

"Are you at least going to pay us if we agree to help you?" I asked cynically, unable to resist the opportunity of turning Emmett's remark against him.

"Make up your mind, miss," the doctor replied. "If you don't want to be considered as prostitutes, and I know it's the case, then you don't need to be paid."

It was a joke, you idiot…

"Believe me, pretty faces, you'll be compensated all right, just not with money. And you'll be asking for more," Edward boasted.

He was a superb piece of a man, I had to admit that much, but his arrogance annoyed me to death. However, the words he just said lit some kind of fire deep down inside me, and a feeling of anticipation took over me – a feeling I didn't want to have… Crap.

Jasper wanted some clarification, "If I get this right, it's an orgasm race we are asked to perform?"

"That's correct," Garrett confirmed. "After the hour, whoever gave his partner the greatest number of orgasms will be declared the winner and will be allowed to take her, but only if she consents."

"And how can we be sure that the others are telling the truth?" the martial arts champion questioned.

"Gentlemen, do you really believe that those charming young ladies who are honoring us with their presence would let you lie about such a thing?"

My friends all snickered this time. Yes, maybe it was best to laugh about the situation, after all… And maybe they were also thinking about lying themselves, should they have a great time with their partner and therefore wanting to get more out of the exercise, which seemed quite unlikely to me. I did remember the reasons why the four men were here in the first place, so I wasn't expecting much…

Esme intervened, "This race is very tempting, that's for sure, but one hour just won't do for me. Gentlemen as they might be, we barely know these men. So give them at least two hours to get to know us, precisely. Besides, what man isn't able to control himself for one hour? Come on, allow them more time and I'm in."

She could be very convincing when she wanted something dearly. And she was right to demand more time. If we were going to receive pleasure, the longer the better.

"You don't realize what you're demanding, Miss Platt," the physician disapproved. "No man in good health could resist your charms that long…"

"It is my understanding," Alice remarked, "that only the winner of the race might take advantage of his partner anyway. So you'd better be prepared right away, Doctor Cullen, for you may need a little jerk off session in the shower later on…"

"Listen, everyone," our host concluded. "It's been discussed enough. Misses Platt and Brandon are both right. I grant you those two hours. Now let's proceed with the draw, shall we?"

Strangely, I had the impression that the draw was only a pretext and that the coupling had been arranged in advance. It was clear to me that Doctor Cullen was completely dazzled by Esme's attributes, and it was also quite obvious that Jasper Whitlock had a thing for the lovely Alice. As for Emmett Masen, the sexual tension between Rosalie and him was almost visible to the eye. So, that left me and this show off of Edward Masen who was making me feel weird even though I tried to ignore it. Was it possible that somehow he wanted to be with me in the intimacy of a bedroom, as I assumed that's where the exercise was to take place? Surely I was imagining things. After all I was nobody; I was just a little literature teacher with no money and almost nothing of my own, for crying out loud. It seemed that a world separated me from this man.

You're right, Bella, your imagination is playing tricks on you. Edward Fuck-me-now Masen is only here to use you to satisfy his own interests and he never pretended otherwise…

Why the hell was my subconscious telling me this? Was something wrong with my brain? Did I just say I wanted to be fucked by a stranger? Fucked by a stranger who just wanted to use me? Heck, he never talked to me and I didn't even know for sure if I was going to end up with him for the "race".

I came back to reality just as Garrett was picking up the first name among his clients from a silver box and then one of our names from a golden one. "Emmett Masen is going with Rosalie Hale."

"Wow! What a surprise!" I wanted to say. But I stayed silent in my corner, trying to disappear even more thoroughly under the cushions. The draw went on with Jasper's and Alice's names, and then it was Doctor Cullen's and Esme's turn to be picked. So there was no place for doubt anymore: I was definitely going to spend the next two hours in the company of this Greek god that was Edward Masen.

I swallowed with difficulty, my throat feeling peculiarly dry all of a sudden. Uneasiness was going to eat me alive, unless something else did… or someone.

I really suggest you go read the next chapter before you decide to give up on my story, unless you landed here by mistake...

This story is a translation and was first published in French exactly one year ago.

Please, let me know what you think so far. It will give me the incentive to translate the other chapters faster.

A huge thanks to my devoted beta Just4ALE for helping me be the writer I thought I would never be.

Milk