THE CONTAINER Part 1

T.S. FESSELN


Disclaimer: This is a work of amatory fantasy. Any resemblance to people living or dead is purely coincidental. If you are under the age of 18, please stop reading here. If you are a bit squeamish about graphic depiction of sex and bondage, please stop reading here. The author takes no responsibility for those who wish to reenact anything written below.

Permission is granted for private use. The author wishes any agencies that wish to publish this work, to please contact him at [email protected]. Or visit his weblog at fesselnsfiction.blogspot.com/ . Any comments are gladly accepted and encouraged.

    Dross Mitchell glanced down at the glowing screen of his pane.  The manifest of the ‘Bronze Heretic’ looked like it was in order but what it didn’t show was Dross’ gut feeling that the crew of the ‘Heretic’ was hiding something in the vast array of containers that lined the customs bay.  There were very strict regulations about off-world merchandise being brought planet-side and Dross wasn’t about to be punished for letting restricted cargo in.
    As a Port Authority Customs Agent, Dross had to watch both planet-bound and off world-bound cargo.  The many ringdoms had just as many rules and regulations pertaining to what was allowed in or out.  Certain weapons, drugs and persons were forbidden and those very things were being smuggled in on a regular basis. . .or at least, they tried to be smuggled in.
    The worst of the batch was women.  Because of the increased sexual prowess and attraction, many off-worlders tried to sneak free-wombs out for reasons that always included sex.  There was also a trade of off-world women to the ringdoms as slaves.  The thrill, Dross guessed, was that whole forbidden fruit thing.  He wouldn’t know.  He was satisfied with what was provided to him as part of his ‘benefits’ package.
   Dross stepped up to another large container and scanned its imbedded chip.   ‘Bio-Morphus Injectors’.  That’s what glowed red on his screen.  Glancing at the container, it was far too sophisticated for simple injectors.  He touched his pane screen and the internal video feed from the container popped up.
    Sure as shit, there were ten good sized injectors nestled inside the container.  Still, it didn’t feel right.  With another few touches, Dross got up close to each injector.

     He grinned the same type of grin as a viper would after it had just struck a rat.  Each of the injectors had the same serial number.  The video feed was a 3D holographic construct.  Now to find out what was really in that container.
    Dross really enjoyed this part.  It brought back a part of him that had been missing, literally, from his body guard days.  He had paid the price, both hand and leg, for taking a contract with a ‘shady’ off- worlder, but the thrills had been worth it.  His hand and leg had been replaced with expensive off-world prosthesis’ but he had to ‘retire’ to being a PAC agent.  It was a very good gig but he missed the thrill.
    With his pane, he scanned the container’s subsurface and found what he knew was there.  There was a false side to it.  With a little effort, he found the seal and swung the side panel open.
    Dross grinned again.
    It was a full life-support control board.  It showed oxygen levels, heartbeats, brain activity.  There was a pane scanner port which Dross linked his pane to.
    On the screen was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen: Long coppery hair, cat-like green eyes, a lithe figure.  She was hanging nude by her wrists, her mouth sealed with a rubber-like mask.  She was struggling there; obviously not happy with her situation.  A closer look showed she had small emerald stones implanted in her earlobes and around her navel.  Those alone were worth more than a year of Dross’ salary.  It was obvious that this holographic vid was made prior to her packaging.
    Dross glanced at the containers destination.  ‘Delphinium’.  This arcology-cum-ringdom was ruled by a wart of a dictator whose only care was to satisfy his own perverse needs.  There were rumors he paid off truant officers to bring any stray slaves to him regardless of their real owner.  He used slaves like he would a piece of toilet paper, getting one use out of them before flushing them away.
    There was no draking way that monster was going to get this off-worlder.
    The customs’ agent resealed the one side and made a few quick entries on his pane.  ‘Container ID scrambled.’  Now this container would be put into customs’ lost cargo area.
    ‘What the drake was he doing?’ Dross asked himself as he watch an automated cargo handler pick-up the container and whisk it away to the lost cargo compound.
    Dross didn’t care.  Just the burning rush was worth it.  He hadn’t felt this way in years.  Was the mysterious woman going to be worth all this?  Dross didn’t care.  He was in it for the rush.
    If past history was any indication, the container wouldn’t even be processed for at least three days, which gave Dross plenty of time to formulate a plan.
     The agent finished his shift, finding only one other contraband   filled container which was immediately destroyed.  As he rode the tube to his apartment of the 41st level, he couldn’t get the woman in the container out of his mind: Her angry, pleading eyes; her large and pale nipples, the narrow strip of curls crowning her sex.  It was the closest thing to obsession he ever felt.  He needed her.
   Fishing out his pane, he clicked in an order and hoped it would be there when he arrived home.
   After arriving at the tube station, Dross decided to walk rather than grab a speed-away.  He needed to think even though ridding his mind of the redheaded cargo was difficult.  The first embryo of a plan started to develop.  By the time he reached his apartment door, that plan had grown to be a teenager.
    The door hissed open with the reading of the ID chip planted in his brain and his order was ready and waiting for him.  She knelt on the floor nude, her mouthed gagged just like the woman in the container.  Her red hair was longer and braided into 2 braids that were anchored to her cuffed ankles.  Her eyes looked up at him and she spread her knees open a little wider.  Dross noticed that her arms were enveloped in a single glossy black sleeve.
    Dross watched the woman as she watched him undress.  He hadn’t bothered with any cosmetics for his hand or leg.  They gleamed of polished carbon and steel.  His hand didn’t seem to bother her but as he pulled his pants down, his leg seemed to cause a little scare.
    He liked that.
    Dross stepped over in front of her and looked down at her.
    “Please me,” he said.
    The slave uncurled herself as best she could and laid down on her back, her legs opened wide and her reddened sex seemed eager to please.  He walked around her, looking down at her and not saying a word.  He drank in every detail of her form from her heavy breasts to her tattooed stomach.  He could see her quivering nervousness build.
    “Show me you want me.”
    The slave slowly started to rock her hips and mewl into her gag.
    Dross loved that sound.  Watching her made his cock start to ache.  Still, it wasn’t enough.  He went over to his small wardrobe a selected a truant officers crop; the one that gave a nasty electric sting when so desired.
    The slaves’ green eyes widen with fear as she saw what was in his hand.  Her whole body froze.
    “Did I tell you to stop?”
    Slowly she began to hump her hips again and her mewls became louder.
    Dross laughed as he caressed her inner thighs with the chrome tip of his crop.
    “Do you want me to fuck you?” he asked.
    The woman moaned into her gag loudly as she nodded her head.
    “It doesn’t seem like it,” Dross looked sternly into her eyes.  Tears had started trickling down over her cheeks.
   She began to moan much more loudly as she thrust herself up as much as her restraints would allow her.
   Dross knelt down between her legs and held her legs open.  After positioning himself at her glistening folds, he thrust himself into her fully.  Violently, he thrust into her again and again, listening to her wails as she squirmed and bucked underneath him.  Her hopeless moans and helpless struggles fuelled him more.  He could feel the heat of his need building until he erupted into her.
    The agent held himself inside of her, relishing the violence of act; hoping it would erase the image of the woman from his mind.  However, when he looked down at the slave beneath him, al he saw was the container womans’ face.

              It is usually a long time between postings for my stories.  In the past, I have tried to compile a mailing list, but it has become unmanageable as of late. However, you can check my weblog at fesselnsfiction.blogspot.com/ for news of my latest works and to read some new ones. Or, you can catch me on Twitter or Facebook for up to the minute progress or a pleasant chat. Any and all comments are welcome and appreciated.  Please e-mail me a [email protected] or post them on my blog.