Special Delivery Ch. 01

Chapter 01 -- An unexpected delivery

Note from the author:

It's been a very long time since I last posted a story. I've had this one in the works but, unlike with my last one, I didn't want to release some chapters without having it all finished first. I don't know about you, but I hate it when I like a story, only to find it leaves me hanging at the end because the author has abandoned it.

As always, I really struggled to work out how to categorise the story in Lit. I find the simplistic one-to-one relationship between stories and categories very limiting. In the end, I put it in the group sex category as there's plenty of that in the story. But I hope there's a bit more to it than that.

The first couple of chapters don't contain much explicit action. I hope you'll find the story building nicely though.

As ever, if you enjoy, or if you have any constructive feedback, please do leave a comment. Knowing that people out there somewhere are enjoying what I write, really makes it worth while.

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The late winter sun was already getting low in the sky. The ground was crunchy with frost and the air temperature was hovering around freezing. Despite that, and the fact that I was stripped down to a vest, sweat was beading across the top of my back and on my forehead as I continued raising and swinging my splitting maul. I've always enjoyed splitting wood. It was one of the first things I discovered when I moved here.

There's just something about the fact that you can see your progress. You have some wood, you do some work, and then you have some chopped wood. It's easy to zone out, not worry about anything and just enjoy some good, honest work. I've got a lot better at it in the four years I've been here though. I'm probably twice as fast as I used to be. Part of that is probably due to the fact that I'm in much better shape now too.

I'm comfortably over six feet tall and have always been reasonably strong but, being honest about it, I was pretty out of condition when I first bought the modest cottage I'm now living in. Ten years in the city will do that to you. Nothing about working in the financial industry is great for your body. And I was happy to enjoy the excesses that lifestyle came with. Parties, drink, trophy wife, the whole thing. The only thing I stayed clear of was cocaine. Not really sure why but I always felt that was a line I didn't want to cross -- if you'll excuse the pun. I thought I was living the high life. It's amazing how you can surround yourself with the best things that money can buy and never once realise how hollow your existence is until something comes along and makes you wake up. That thing for me was catching my wife in bed with my best friend.

It sounds like a trauma but, looking back, it's the best thing that ever happened to me. It really made me take a long hard look at my life and re-evaluate my priorities. I actually don't even hold a grudge against my ex-wife and my friend. They deserve each other. And I don't mean that in a spiteful way. I think they both want the same things in life and it was only a matter of time before I realised I was faking it and had to make a change. They just expedited the situation. She was even generous in the divorce, no doubt she could have screwed loads more money out of me. But I suppose it's easy to be magnanimous when you are moving from one rich husband to a new rich husband. Good luck to them.

So, in my early thirties, I found myself with a very healthy bank balance and no ties, looking for a fresh start. That's when I found this place. A small cottage that used to be the grounds keeper's house as part of a country mansion. Apparently the new owner of the mansion wanted a show-piece house but wasn't so keen on the upkeep of the estate so he sold off the grounds keeper's cottage and a large part of the land, including a large woodlands. I got it for a bargain as not many people were interested in such a tiny house and huge amount of land.

With some sensible, low maintenance investments with the rest of my money, I had enough income to pay for essentials, as long as I was careful with my lifestyle. So I was effectively retired and spent my time managing the woodlands, growing my own food and generally minding my own business.

I've never been happier, now that I know what I'm doing, but the first year was pretty tricky. I learnt few harsh lessons about what happens when you run out of wood with a month of cold weather still to go and your only source of heating is a wood-burning stove! I also had a couple of near-misses with chainsaws and falling trees until I got the hang of working safely.

Living a simple, active lifestyle has done wonders for my mental and physical health. The excess weight I was carrying has melted off and my muscles have strengthened. If I do say so myself, I'm a fine specimen! Not that impressing the ladies has been high on my priority list. However, recently that's started to change too.

Speaking of which, the low sun reminded me of the hour. As a rule, I don't wear a watch anymore. There's no point when you don't have any appointments to keep. But, it was a Friday afternoon and that meant it was time for me to clean up ready for a visit from my favourite neighbour.

I'd made a point to get to know all of my neighbours. I'm not a hermit, despite my escape from the city, and I wanted to have some human interaction from time to time. Sophie wasn't really most people's definition of a neighbour, her house being half a mile down the road, but living in the country expands one's definition of neighbour to be a little more generous. I'd only met her for the first time a couple of months ago. She was fond of taking walks at the weekend and, on that particular day, had chosen to follow the rough path that leads through my woodlands. I initially scared the crap out of her when our paths crossed. It didn't help that I was carrying my large forest axe at the time. Once the initial shock passed and she realised that I wasn't a wandering axe-murderer, we got talking.

We hit it off straight away. You know how some people are just on the same wavelength as you? Well that was Sophie. It didn't hurt that she is really cute and has a smile that lights up the room. But, honestly, I really wasn't thinking about romance and we started off just enjoying each other's company.

Friday night has become a regular meet up for us. She's a teacher at the local secondary school and she's pretty tired at the end of the week. She also finds cooking a chore, where as I enjoy it. So, we assemble at one of our houses and I cook her dinner. She buys the food, and I cook it. Then we usually stay chatting over a bottle of wine until she can't keep her eyes open and we go our separate ways. Tonight it was my turn to host and she'd be round soon.

Our little get-togethers had become the highlight of my week and I was pretty sure she felt the same. Although nothing sexual had happened, it felt like we were heading in that direction. It was nice to feel like I didn't have to rush to make a move on her. Neither of us were going anywhere and we could just let our relationship develop naturally. There was definitely some strong chemistry between us though and I was pretty sure we were going to hook up before much longer.

So, with the sun flirting with the horizon, it was time for me to get back to the cottage and freshen up before she arrived. Also, I wanted to find out what that loud clanking sound was that had just started up from nearby.

I chop my wood round the back of the cottage, so I can put the logs straight into the large, covered wood store I've made there. The sound seemed to be coming from somewhere out front, but it was close enough that it had to be on my land. It sounded like something you'd hear on an industrial estate, not in the English countryside.

I couldn't see anything until I walked round the to the front. I was just in time to see a man unhooking the chains from a small ISO container that he had just unloaded from a truck. I took a moment to process this information and, by the time I'd regained the ability to walk and started to approach him, he noticed my arrival.

"Ahh, there you are. I was just about to post the documentation through the letterbox." He said.

"Err, I think there's been some sort of mistake." I mumbled. "This can't be for me."

The driver was clearly in a hurry to finish for the weekend and wasn't in the mood to have to load up again and drive somewhere else. "Not my problem mate." He offered. "I just drop things where I'm told."

He slapped a large envelope into my hands, hopped back in the truck and was driving off before I could untangle my tongue enough to protest.

"Bollocks" I muttered to myself.

This wasn't the first time I'd had mail delivered to my cottage by mistake. It seems that delivery drivers sometimes got confused about the fact that my house and the huge mansion up the drive were no longer part of the same address. Or, more likely, didn't fancy negotiating the decrepit tarmac and took the easy option in leaving things at my place.

Normally, I didn't mind too much. It wasn't like I had so much to do that I couldn't spare a few minutes to drop some errant letters or the occasional parcel over to my more salubrious neighbour. But an ISO container! That was going to take some shifting. And, perhaps more significantly, Steve (my afore mentioned neighbour) was unavailable on account of having just begun serving two consecutive life sentences in prison for various organised crime offences. The news had been something of a shock; he'd always seemed like a pleasant, normal kind of guy. But, while it didn't help me with my current problem, it did, at least, explain how he got the money to by such a plush country estate!

With no obvious, long-term, solution in sight, curiosity started to get the better of me. One look at the doors confirmed the presence of an imposing lock. Not much happening there then. Then I remembered the envelope I was holding!

There was no name or address on the front. I figured that I was within my rights to open it, it had been delivered to me after all.

Inside was some paperwork, which I should probably have read first. But, hey, I'm a guy and we never read the manual right? So, my attention was taken by the key resting at the bottom. Back in business!

I couldn't help but wonder what earthly delights awaited me on the other side of the door. Assuming it had been meant for Steve, it had to be something valuable right? Do they ship Ferraris in ISO containers? I didn't think so. And, anyway, I wasn't really into the joys of material possessions anymore right? But I was still curious.

The lock opened smoothly and, after some fiddling with the latch, the metal doors swung open surprisingly easily.

The first surprise was that it was light inside. Like, there were actual lights illuminating the inside. But, although that should have been strange enough on its own, it quickly paled into insignificance compared to what else was inside.

Kneeling on the floor, about two metres inside the doors, was a woman. You know; the actual living and breathing kind. I must have stood gaping for a good couple of minutes before she spoke: "Hello master, my name is Maya and I am looking forward to serving you."

What the actual fuck? There was so much going on that my poor brain was simply not processing it all fast enough. Different thoughts struggled to think over each other in a big jumble inside my head.

"Wow, she's unbelievably hot." "Did she just call me master?" "What sick fuck delivers a person in an ISO container?" "What sick fuck buys a person in an ISO container?" "Man that negligee thingy she's wearing doesn't leave much to the imagination." "Did I mention that she's really hot?"

In the end, and perhaps to my credit, my brain settled down on the one concept that it decided I needed to take action on: "There's a bloody woman that's just been 'posted' in a bloody ISO container and it looks like some form of sex trafficking."

Soon after that thought crystallised, the rest of my body got its act together too and I rushed over to crouch beside her. Wary that she had probably been through one hell of an ordeal, I tried not to look too threatening, or too much like the sort of guy who would order a sex slave over the internet. Not sure how she would react to physical contact, I resisted the urge to put my hand on her shoulder in a comforting manner and settled for saying: "Oh my god, are you OK?"

She seemed a whole lot calmer than me at this point. In fact, she seemed confused by my reaction.

"Err, yes master. I am perfectly well. I am ready to begin serving you immediately."

I shook my head, more to try to clear it than anything. "Woah, no one's anyone's master. Don't be scared, you're safe now. We'll make sure you get looked after and get home safely."

Come to think about it, she didn't look particularly scared. If anything, she was looking even more confused. She was also starting to shiver. It was only getting colder as the sun was setting and I was rapidly getting cold since I hadn't put my jumper back on yet. Her powder blue silk negligee couldn't have have been doing much to keep her warm. I tried desperately not to stare at her nipples, which were very obviously feeling the cold too, and trying to poke their way through the thin material. Her posture was such that her shoulders were back and her chest was pushed forward, showing off her firm breasts to magnificent effect.

Get a grip man, the woman obviously needs help, I thought.

"Let's get you into the house and find you some warm clothes before you freeze to death."

I offered her my hand, which she took as she rose to her feet.

"I have more clothes with me if this outfit does not please you." She nodded over her shoulder where three large suitcases were neatly arranged.

"It's not about pleasing me." I was getting exasperated. "Never mind, let's just get you in the warm and we can work out what to do next."

I lead her to the front door and flung it open. I never bother to lock it; there's nothing worth stealing anyway.

Inside was warmer than out but, until I lit the fire, it was still cold by most people's standards.

"Here, put this on." I untied my thick jumper from around my waist and handed it to her. "I'll light the stove so we can get this place warm. Then I'll go and bring in your suitcases so you can find something better to wear."

I dumped the envelope that I was still clutching and set to work getting the stove lit. This was another task that I've become brutally efficient with since I've been living here and it was only a couple of minutes before a fire was blazing in the wood stove. My house is tiny. One bedroom, a bathroom and a kitchen/diner/lounge room. The place heats up quickly once I get a fire going.

Soon I was happy enough that Maya wasn't going to freeze to death if I left her alone for a few minutes. I headed back to the container to fetch her suitcases. It was surprisingly sophisticated inside. There was a bed, a sink unit with a small gas stove and a cupboard that still contained some dehydrated meals. There was even a chemical toilet. The end panel appeared to be false and I assumed hid batteries and the water storage. All in all, I could see how someone could survive in here for weeks. I shook my head at the thought of being trapped here, being shipped to your doom at the hands of your future "master". I couldn't imagine what Maya's mental state must have been after that. No doubt she would need some kind of therapy to help her adjust back to normal life.

It took me two trips to ferry the luggage. They were big and heavy. No way you were going to get away with flying with one of those without paying for excess baggage. Maybe that's why she chose to travel by ISO container, I thought - then silently berated myself for my dark humour.

Once the suitcases were reunited with Maya, I told her to find something to wear. I decided to let her change in the kitchen where the fire was, while I retreated to the bedroom to give her some privacy.

On my way out, she enquired: "What would master like me to wear?"

"Jesus! How many times do I have to tell you? I'm not your master. You are no one's slave." I was trying to hold back my frustration, I didn't want her to feel like she'd ended up with six feet of angry man. But it was getting hard to keep my anger in check. The more I came to terms with the situation, the more I was getting furious that someone could buy and sell a person as a slave, or for any reason for that matter.

"Just put on something warm and comfortable, please" I sighed as I made the short journey to the bedroom.

I was just digging out a warmer top for myself when I heard the front door open and Sophie's familiar voice call out: "Mark, why's there a shipping container on your... oh! Err, sorry. I didn't realise Mark had company. I'll see myself out."

Shit, that would be Sophie walking in to see a hot young woman getting dressed in my house. "Sophie!" I shouted, opening the door to my bedroom. "I'm in here. Thank god you're here, I need your help." I practically pulled her into my bedroom, studiously ignoring the glimpses of naked flesh in the other room.

Sophie had the sort of look on her face that made me think she hadn't yet decided if she should be angry, curious or amused I decided to get explaining quickly before she could think the worst of me.

It didn't take me long to bring her up to speed.

"What the hell am I going to do?" I asked her, after I'd explained the situation.

She gave me a look that told me, better than words ever could, that I was being unbelievably stupid if I needed to ask her that.

"Yeah, right." I realised. "Call the police."

Her arched eyebrow was the kindest reply I probably deserved.

It took me a few minutes to find the ancient, pay-as-you-go mobile that serves as my only instrument of communication to the outside world. I don't use it much as you might be able to guess. I had to find the charger too and make the call with it plugged in as the battery was completely dead.

The police asked me if there was any immediate danger to anyone, to which I replied no. They then indicated that they'd send someone round at some point, probably today. Great.

While I was on the phone, Sophie had gone to check on Maya. After I hung up, I ventured through to the other room to see how they were getting on.

The two women were sitting side-by-side on my small sofa. Sophie was holding Maya's hand in a comforting grip and trying to reassure her that the police were on their way. Maya was starting to look miserable. I guessed that the emotion of the situation was starting to come out or she was going into shock or something.

"I need a cup of tea." I announced. If in doubt, make tea. "Who wants a cup?"

Sophie nodded to me, but Maya kept her eyes down and said nothing. I decided that keeping her talking would be a good idea if she was going into shock. "Maya, would you like some tea. Or something else?"

She looked up at the direct question. "Umm, no thank you mas.. er sir."

"Mark, my name is Mark." I realised that I couldn't complain about what she called me if I hadn't told her may name! "Are you sure? It'll help warm you up."

"OK then." She was back to looking down again.

I filled the kettle and put it on the stove to boil. Sophie was patting Maya's hand and speaking in reassuring tones, too quietly for me to hear the actual words.

While I waited for the water to heat. I was watching the two women. As I told you before, Sophie is very easy on the eye. I'd call her cute rather than outright beautiful. She has dark blonde hair that she mostly wears in a pony tail. I love her face, it's very expressive and her smile is a joy to behold. She tends to dress fairly conservatively so I couldn't give you a detailed run-down of her physique but she's got curves in all the right places whilst staying on the slender side. In short, just the kind of woman that a man like me could enjoy looking at whilst not feeling she was completely out of my league.