Shipping The Girl Pt 02

The two sharp raps on the outside of the shipping crate gave her a start but she realized that it was a signal that she was now hopelessly destined to be just another parcel in the massive movement of this, that and the other thing in the world of shipping.

Charlie awoke in a start and instantly realized where she was.

"Yes, Charlie, you little fool, you actually did it," she scolded herself through the tight gag.

More than securely gagged the double strips of tape over her eye holes plunged her into complete darkness. Not that the walls of the shipping crate allowed much light to pass through to the inside anyway. And those ear plugs aided by sound deadening ear coverings, and the walls of the shipping crate lined with foam padding did much to deaden the sounds of the outside world.

Charlie squirmed a bit but the restraits held firm. The supports and straps, while comfortable, were more than strong enough to assure that she was not going to get out of that crate until someone took her out.

Even if she did manage to thrash about and break the yoke that held her secure she was still inside of the crate. Better to remain secure within the firm but friendly grasp of the restrains than to rattle around inside of the crate like a football inside of a trash can.

Worse than the understanding that she was shipping herself away was the fact that she had already lost track of time. She had no idea how long she had slept so she had no idea what time it was. All she knew was that her crate was scheduled to be picked up between 1 and 3 PM on Saturday.

She wondered why she had jumped to get into that shipping crate so very early in the morning the day before, knowing that the scheduled pickup wouldn't be until the following day.

She used the excuse that the man from the sex shop was there to finalize her fate but she knew the reality was that she wanted to get the process going before common sense could invade her brain and change her mind and not get into that crate at all.

Her entire world was now in complete darkness and contained within that single shipping crate. All she had left in this world was her naked body and the various bondage bits and pieces that held her firm and fast inside of that crate.

She then thought back on how she got to be in that crate. She would have plenty of time to think, reflect and regret.

Her free fall from what ever little grace she had had was a process that spanned several months but was now well underway to what could be its final phase. How it would be completed would no longer be up to her. She had nothing left. Nothing. She had made sure of that.

When it became apparent that being shipped would be Charlie's destiny there was little doubt that all remnants of her former life be stripped away and lost. Maybe forever. There had been thoughts of storage of personal items, clothing and favorite furnishings but somehow that fall back seemed far to luxurious for Charlie.

The process was set in motion when she followed the link that her brother had given her. The more Charlie discovered the more it struck a cord. She had been in a fog for so long, burried in her work but when she had to tally it all up she realized that there was nothing there. No friends, no family that actually cared, no nothing. No real life that anyone would aspire to.

The couple she spoke to online were extremely interested in her. The very next day they met at a coffee shop and the wife, a tall and powerful looking woman, got right to the point.

"You are willing to submit to us for two full years," she asked cautiously. "Full control, no escape. Total ownership."

Charlie thought about it and said, "Yes. You wire the 50 thousand to the person on this card and I am yours."

John Yankovitch got the bank draft the very next day and the shipping crate and instructions arrived a day later. They were very eager to own little Charlie she thought.

She had looked around at the furnishings in the house that would no longer be hers in another few days or so and decided that it was important that there be no fall backs. She would have nothing to come back to. Nothing.

She spent her time cleaning the place out and the trash and recycling bins were filled with bits and pieces of her life. Early each Thursday morning she watched another part of her life taken away as the large trucks came by, scooped up the bins, and unceremoniously dumped her belongings into the bowels of the truck joining the neighbor's unwanted trash..

No need for furnishings or appliances of any kind where she was going so she carried it all out to the street where eager neighbors and passersby removed every last piece of it in less than 24 hours.

So when the trucks came on this particular Thursday and emptied those bins Charlie watched the very last of her possessions carted away, never to be seen again.

It was an emotional time and of course there were the usual tears in her eyes that had come every Thursday as she forced herself to watch her life being dismantled and relegated to just so much trash.

But she wanted a clean break from this life. If and when she was free to start over she wanted something different. Of course the coming back part just might be a big if.

Charlie turned and looked at the crate. It and the contents designed to restrain and restrict her was all she had left now. That and the same sweatshirt, jogging pants and low top sneakers she had worn for the past 3 weeks. Her last pair of panties and her last bra had just driven out off down the street.

Back inside of the crate the realization hit her and hit her hard that it was almost certain that she would come to both regret her choice to do this and she would almost certainly come to hate that crate. But then again, an honest appraisal of her state of mind would confirm that that was her plan all along.

"Plenty of time for regrets and self hatred, you stupid girl," Charlie mumbled to herself.

One thing she did have was time as she was now left totally alone. Left to contemplate her fate and more than that, left to consider how she would come to be in this dark place in the first place.

Her life could hardly be considered either special or interesting and certainly not glamorous. But simple had suited her just fine. She wasn't even 30 yet and yet, what had she really done with her life.

Thinking back on it she had to admit that being mostly alone suited her because relationships never worked out well for her. Her younger years had more than likely poisoned any hope of even casual relationships being normal.

"Well if you wanted alone, Charlie, you got it," she mused to herself.

Lurking inside of her Charlie had always had dark thoughts and more than passing feelings of self loathing that led to random acts of self abuse and physical punishment. Her use as a sex object rendered her useless to anyone seeking a normal mate. She had been ruined. Perhaps for life.

Hell, looking back, she had precious few real relationships and every relationship she did have was with someone who tended to treat her poorly. But eventually she would find the courage to end them all and walk away and try to find some small dose of self respect. It was always hard but she had always managed to find her way back to her nice clean and orderly simple life.

Hard work always snapped her back and away from the eve of her own destructive thoughts. Surely that would work again.

Charlie was barely holding her own using work to keep her mind occupied. But fate would deal her hopes of escape from herself another crippling blow when the embezzlement scandal hit. That life was over not there for a crutch for her.

Nothing left but the inside of this shipping crate, outfit into inescapable bondage and shipped off to the unforgiving embrace of a new life yet unknown. One thing she did think about was that couple just might erase you and destroy you completely.

The thought of that both excited her and scared the shit out of her. Strangely both emotions seemed to suit her well at that moment.

Chapter 3 here.........

She could hear very little, but enough sound seeped through such that the only contact she now had with the outside world were the occasional faint sounds of a car rumbling down her seldom used street.

Charlie felt herself drifting in and out of sleep when her quiet was suddenly jolted back to reality as the crate was suddenly moved and turned on end, head side down.

"So much for 'this end up'", Charlie thought bitterly.

She felt the crate bumped not so carefully down the three steps and then wheeled down the driveway to the street. The crate was moved into what she assumed was the truck, and without too much effort the crate was in the truck, thankfully right side up. She heard the door slam shut.

As she had watched her possessions get taken away in those large trucks Charlie and her crate were now doing the same as the truck drove away from the house she might never see again. She had a nice cry as the regrets were taking firm hold. She knew that the chances of her ever seeing that house again were very slim.

"You are part of the system now," Charlie chided to herself. "That couple is going to have some great fun with you, you silly and stupid girl."

"Maybe they will lose the crate and you will die of starvation and thirst before you even get to them," thought Charlie as the crate bounced around in the back of that truck headed for who knew where. "One can only hope!"

Charlie had never been in a delivery type of truck or any other truck for that matter ao she had no frame of reference but the journey already was a bumpy one as it seemed like each bump in the road was like a canyon that hurtled the truck high in the air only to crash down again on the pavement. Eagerly looking for the next crater. Riding in a crate in the back of a delivery truck was not at all comfortable.

She was starting to appreciate all of the effort she had been put into building the crate so that while the idea was not to make the process pleasant it was important that the restraints were both reasonably comfortable as well as strong enough to withstand the pressures of her body being tossed around inside of the crate.

But then again this was not the first time she had spent time in the crate. Or time in a delivery truck for that matter.

The idea of the shipping crate all began when Charlie saw a picture of a woman, restrained on elbows and knees in a metal rack like device that locked wrists and ankles to the bottom bars while the head was held stationery by a yoke around the neck that was chained to the bottom bar and two upright bars. There was a cross member coming up that held the woman's abdomen in place.

They had constructed a similar restraint using wood and leather straps. From that position at some point the leap was made to housing that rack within a shipping crate.

These people were obviously not novices to the world of DIY building as this crate was obviously well made. She pondered the possibilities that she was not the first occupant of this shipping crate.

When the crate had arrived Charlie quickly got into the crate on her knees and slipped her ankles into the straps. Then down so that her belly was supported by the cross member and then the leather collar around her neck was attached to the uprights and the lower bar. Hands into the straps and voila. A girl in a crate.

She wriggled around a bit but it was obvious that the straps, although loose now would restrain a person in place without hope of release. As she stayed in that position she thought about her future.

Which didn't look good.

After what seemed like an hour she released herself from the crate and was shocked to learn that she had only been in there for a little over 15 minutes. Yikes.

Also her knees, wrists and ankles were not all that happy about spending even that limited amount of time in that position. And her soft neck. That already showed sighs of chaffing.

Charlie looked down at the crate and said aloud to no one, "Yes, there is definitely a shipping crate in your future."

She got in on her knees and attached the anklets to the back beam and then bent over the middle bar and cinched down the strap over the small of her back tightly. The large nylon dogs collar was then attached to the three chains to sides and bottom. The fit was kept tight by springs that kept the chains taught. The heavy springs would also reduce the shock to the neck and head should the case be dropped.

She fastened the cat collars around her slender wrists and she was in. The padding for the knees and belly seemed comfortable enough and even as she pulled hard on wrists and legs the nylon collars held firm and fast but did not abuse her skin in the process.

She had set the kitchen timer for two hours because this time damn it she would do the full time. She did the full two hours alright but she hadn't realized that while the room was in bright sunshine as she got into the case the sun had long set plunging the room into darkness while she was in the case.

When the alarm finally went off she stayed in the case longer. Her knees were ok and there was no chaffing of skin on ankles, wrists and neck. Kneeling there in the darkness strapped to that crate she felt a rush of something that mixed fear and excitement.

"This is how it will be for you, being shipped," Charlie said aloud to herself. "And it will not be fun."

As she fumbled to remove the clips to those collars she felt an uncontrollable rush of energy and had to stop trying to escape for a while to catch her breath. Eventually she was able to get out of the case.

Standing above it, shaking almost uncontrollably she whispered softly, "You are really going to do this, aren't you."

But the crate still needed work. Another trip to the pet store and she found wider nylon dog collars and bought 5 of them. Damn it, what were the chances she would have to face that same cashier.

For crate 2.1 she added more braces inside to strengthen the rack to which she would be attached. Also she added uprights at the waist. She also build the top to snugly fit the case. With hinges at one end the top would swing down and at this point would snap shut with a spring clip inside of the case.

The theory here was that the top would be closed and could not be opened except by her from the inside. The theory would come to be better than the actual execution as she would soon find out.

Confident and satisfied with the present configuration of the crate is was time for another test. The timer was now set for 4 hours and into the crate she went. Ankles secured, then the large dog collars on the thighs secured to the uprights, next she bent over the cross member but this time instead of a strap across the back two chains with springs were attached to each side of two large dog collars around her narrow waist. One chain on each side to the top of the upright and one at the bottom.

Her legs and waist now secure the collar around her neck was secured by 4 chains. As with the waist two chains on each side attached with strong springs. One each to the top and bottom of the upright beam.

Now she used the rope she lowered the top and when it landed she heard the lock snap shut. The sound of that sent a jolt through her like she had never felt. At that point one part of her brain was screaming for her to get the hell out of that crate.

The unreasonable side of her brain commanded her to snap her wrists to the front cross member.

Now this was freaky. Charlie not got the reality of what it was going to be like to be in that case and shipped.

It was not going well. She wasn't sure how long she lasted but finally after two crying jags and some abusive self-evaluation she decided that she wanted out of that case. But there was a problem.

While it was easy for her to free her wrists she soon learned that finding the release latch for the top was going to be a serious issue. As in she couldn't find it. The darkness didn't matter really because she couldn't look around with her hands and find the cursed latch.

Then panic set in and she seemed to think that there was no hope of finding it. Panic mode was starting to settle in and the harder she tried to find the latch the more excited and frustrated she became and that made moving her hands and arms in any rational pattern nearly impossible.

Her hands and arms were starting to cramp up so she stopped moving and tried to settle herself. For a few moments that seemed like hours she felt like giving up.

"So this is how it ends, stupid girl," Charlie said to herself.

She had another good cry and settled down a bit and then realized that she needed to release her head first. After doing that she had greater movement of her upper body and after what seemed like an hour of trying she finally released the latch and pushed the top open. Again using the rope to raise it off of the case.

Even though the case sat there in the vacant dining area it was a few days before she went back to the case. It seemed to Charlie that the crate mocked her every time she went near it.

"I am so done with you," Charlie would tell the crate.

"Oh no you are so NOT," the crate would reply just by sitting there on the floor.

Her will said no but her urges laughed and said yes and as each day passed the voice of will and reason grew quieter and quieter while the voice of the urge became a screaming monster.

After what seemed like forever with the delivery truck starting and stopping and then bouncing down the roads it was parked for a short time and then she felt the case moved and being wheeled along, again head side down. The crate was carelessly slammed to the floor and left.

After a short wait during which she slept so she really had no idea how long it was her crate was once again wheeled along and dropped and then picked up and placed. The following ride was long and uninterrupted. She was obviously in a large truck being transported to another depot. This ride was still a bit rough as there wasn't much to cushion a bump in the road but it was better than the delivery truck.

That ride ended with her crate being placed at another depot and yet another wait until her crate was wheeled into another delivery truck. All of this went a long way to dehumanizing her as it did make her feel that she was just a piece of freight being shipped. She suddenly felt a level of sympathy for all of those items she had ordered online.

She spent a long time in that delivery truck. She should have known because it felt like a lot of other packages were being stacked on top of her. But finally the truck bumped along down what had to be a dirt road and her crate was taken out of the van and left.

And nothing happened. And still nothing happened.

"Ok, people, your package is here now," she tried to say through the tube in her mouth. And still nothing happened.

Has Charlie been shipped to the right address or did the delivery man just drop her off any old place just to be rid of that large crate? We all find out in chapter 3 of shipping the girl.