The Transporter

Description

Social order, as we know it, has been overturned. All females have become second class citizens, the property of their male owners who may do with them whatever they wish.

In this world, some men make a living transporting women, often when one is sold. Specially equipped vans are used, with extreme precautions to ensure that the female cannot escape.

One such transporter is Rusty Carter. He considers himself a professional who enjoys keeping his cargo in strict restraints. He also is one of the few men who does not own a woman himself, having been content to satisfy his urges at the local brothel and not have to worry about care, feeding and accommodation. But one delivery does not go according to plan. He witnesses the murder of the new owner of the woman he is transporting, finds himself hunted by the hit men who want to silence him and with a beautiful woman on his hands. Suddenly he has to worry about care and feeding – and keeping her constantly restrained. After all, in this society it would never do to have a woman on the loose. Will the benefits outweigh the problems? And will the hit men find him and his new woman?

44,700 words

Excerpt:

Carter stopped her at the open door, let her see the inside, then began his usual introductory speech.

“You are going to your new owner and there is nothing on this Earth that will prevent that. But you can make the trip easy or very unpleasant. Your choice. You can ride sitting in that chair. You’ll be unable to move, but it won’t be too uncomfortable. Or I can stand you up against that pole and chain you to it. This is going to be a long trip, and standing will make it seem much longer.”

He paused to make sure she was listening. “If you try to fight me or become abusive in your language, you can ride in that box there. You’ll be kneeling and bent over and locked in. I can tell you that it’s quite uncomfortable for short trips and on long trips can be terribly painful.

“So, what’s it going to be? You going to be quiet and obedient? Or you want to do this the hard way?”

For the first time that morning, she looked him in the eye. He was surprised to see how blue those eyes were. He was also impressed with the intelligence he saw in her look. This was not the usual dumb blonde. This one could think. He had been transporting slaves for almost ten years and knew a lot about the different types. This one is smart enough to put on a good show of obedience but also smart enough to take advantage of any mistake he should make.

“I won’t fight you,” she said.

Her voice was not just sexy, it was pure “come-and-get-me-big-boy” sexy. She did not seem to be trying to sound that way, she was just blessed with a deep, sexy voice that sent shivers down a man’s spine.

“Good. Step up here.” He held onto her arm while she lifted one foot. The chain connecting her ankles, much like a set of handcuffs, but with a longer chain, just long enough to let her foot reach the step. He helped her up the steps and found that touching her was different from the other slaves he had transported. It as almost like a tingle where his hand touched her. And there was something about her that made him want to touch a lot more than just her arm. Reminding himself that he was a professional, he pushed aside such thoughts and got down to the business of securing her for the trip.
He turned her around and pushed her up to the chair. As he guided her to sit down, he lifted her arms so that they came down behind the backrest. That backrest was smaller than she was wide, only about ten inches wide, so when her arms slide over the top, they were comfortably behind it. With her sitting down, he picked up a U shaped metal tube and slid it into the top of the backrest. It clicked solidly in place. There was a leather strap attached at just the right level so it could go around her neck. As he buckled the strap, it was impossible for him to not be aware of how close his face was to hers. Those intense blue eyes stared into his and those wonderful kissable lips invited him.

With her head immobilized by the strap, he knelt down and secured each ankle to the chair leg. But that was not all. Another strap, more of a belt, went around her waist and was buckled tightly enough to push her back against the backrest. And yet another went round her thighs and the seat, also buckled down tightly so movement was damned near impossible.
And even with those restraints, he was not finished. Kneeling down beside the chair, he locked one end of a short length of chain to the handcuffs on her wrists and the other end to the chain joining her ankles. He adjusted the second lock so that there was just a little tension pulling at her wrists.
Now she was secured and he could relax. All during that process, he had been alert for any sudden action on her part. After the first time it happened, he had learned to watch out for the quick knee to the groin and other moves designed to disable him while the slave ran for the bushes.
But he was good at his job. After hundreds of transports, he had yet to lose a slave. It was not a hard job but you had to be careful. If a slave in his custody escaped, he would have to pay for her. Then it would take many more transports to make up for that loss. Some high quality slaves cost a great deal of money.

He studied her face for hints of what she was thinking. Usually, that was not hard. Some were angry, some depressed, and a few were trying to give him a come-on look. Those figured that if they could get him to have sex with them, there might be a chance to escape while he was distracted with the intercourse. Never worked. He maintained a strict policy of not messing with cargo that invited him. Occasionally he was told that he could use a slave if he wanted to. And sometimes he did.

This woman was different. She did not look depressed, nor particularly angry. Nor did she smile at him. He was puzzled by her lack of visible emotions. Yet he was certain she was not just a pretty shell. There was a mind in there, he was sure of it.

He did a quick check of all the restraints, and closed van door. Looking in the rear view mirror, he saw her cast a last look in the direction of her former owner’s house.