Someplace Else in a Galaxy Far, Far Away

Stripped, shrink wrapped, and packed by the automated assembly line, Fennec Shand was feeling less like an elite mercenary than a product fit for the shelf. Trapped in clear plastic packaging, she could do nothing as she was sealed in a crate surrounded by other parts from the assembly line. Soon her crate was lifted and loaded to be shipped off to who knew where.

As it was, there was nothing she could do but lie there in the dark awaiting someone to open the crate and discover her nestled there, ass-up. With her arms trapped she couldn’t even cover herself if strangers’ eyes took in her naked shame. The thought of being stuck so utterly **** – naked, bound, and helpless, sent a shiver through her body. What would happen when someone found her? Would they free her? Keep her? Stock her on a shelf to be sold? In her current state, she would have to accept whatever indignities there were to look forward to. She squirmed in anticipation while her crate was being loaded onto an outgoing transport.

What was she thinking? She was a master assassin, not some brainless bimbo. She had to get hold of herself. Why did she have to drink so much of that **** wine?

Fennec tried to fight the rising tide of Zeltron pheromones swirling in her brain. She tried to find something, anything to distract herself from her ever-growing sexual fugue, but she was trapped motionless in pitch-black silence. Her only sensation was the feeling of her arched, naked body rocking with the motion of the ship, rhythmically pressing the bare breasts against the plastic box that trapped her. Rocking her again and again.

Before the ship had even made the jump to hyperspace she was lost in the sexual fantasy again.

What would happen when her fellow bounty hunters learned what had become of her? What would they say? What would they do?

Fennec couldn’t help but imagine the looks and taunts. Her lips curled at the thought of hands taking opportunities to grope her through her heavy armor. Would they even let her wear armor? She bit her lip as she imagined hands pulling on buckles and lifting off clothes. What could she do but smile as it happened? They wouldn’t give her permission to stop them.

She wriggled and moaned. The controlling embrace of her bonds were simultaneously calming and thrilling and denied any opportunity of release from her predicament.

That Zeltron elixir she drank did its job well. After hours of constant excitement, she could barely remember her own name, let alone offer any resistance. By the time her crate was opened on its new world, Fennec would willingly submit to whoever found her.