by J. M. Alt
I retrieving two more leather straps, bound her legs together tightly below and above the knees. She accepted the additional bindings without struggle, her eyes taking everything in as I took my time preparing her. It was almost better than I had planned. Yet something nagged at me. The way she watched me with her eyes.
Challenging me.
I asked as I worked, “You think you can handle all I can offer, don’t you?”
The challenge in her eyes was nothing short of a bold arrogance.
I chuckled, pulling the strap a notch tighter. “We’ll see.”
Refreshed and eager to get started, I moved the cart, then prepared to transport my wife to her new “home”. I started by unbuckling the two straps holding her in the chair and re-buckling them around her body above and below her breasts. They could not hold her any tighter than the straight jacket held her, but they would provide me the leverage I would need.
I slowly eased her down and onto her belly, then quickly lashed her ankles back against her thighs. Using a final leather strap, I ran it from her ankles to the strap around her upper chest, then slowly pulled it tighter and tighter, forcing her body into a slightly bowed hog-tie. From there it was simply a matter of lifting her and setting her body into the large modified equipment locker I had positioned next to her.
She briefly struggled as I set her on the pads in the locker. I’m sure the thought of how I intended to transport her was probably a bit unnerving, but the decision was already made. Any movement was quickly stilled by the straps added into the interior which I now buckled around her body, holding it in position on the thickly padded floor of the container. I switched on the intake and exhaust fans to create airflow. In reality, the fans were simply two large high-speed computer fans powered by battery packs and attached on opposite ends. Each pulled in or expelled air through a multitude of holes drilled into the side of the footlocker. A cool breeze drifted over her body.
I gazed once more at my wife as she laid her head down, breathed a deep breath and closed her eyes, the leather whip of her hair lying softly on her shoulder. I shut the top, and locked it down. The fans could not be heard and unless you looked very carefully, the holes for the airflow were difficult to see. I placed a second slightly smaller footlocker – the one containing the remainder of the gear and my own clothes – on top. A third locker holding the chair – now broken down for transport – was stacked on top of this. I buckled a set of heavy cargo straps around all three and put her suitcase on top of that, now re-tagged as my own.
I sat down and enjoyed the breakfast, considering a number of options for my new pet before calling for a bellhop to assist me with my luggage.
The large wheels bolted to the carriage attached to the bottom of my "pet carrier" rolled easily on the thick pile as the bellhop pushed the strapped-together lockers down the hall and to the front desk. I took my time settling my account, then accompanied the bellhop with the luggage and lockers out to my waiting SUV. I explained the lockers – nothing more than modified footlockers like the ones used by traveling bands to hold concert equipment - held electronic gear I used in my job as the bellhop and I hefted each into the back of the SUV and I lashed them down. Handing him a substantial tip, I breathed the crisp air deeply into my lungs and shut the hatch. I had already driven her car back to the house and taken a cab back to the hotel. Going through my mind, I made sure all was as it should be.
In less than an hour, Drew would begin her new life in earnest.
*****
To find out what happens to Drew when she arrives at the house, check out
The Ascendancy Chronicles, Volume I