She cursed to herself as she struggled to get the emergency transfer bag into the small ship. Normally she would have no problems with the eighty-five kilo load, but the additional weight and restriction of the pressure suit made the task more difficult. With a final curse, she jerked the bag enough to finally close the airlock and cycle the noxious atmosphere out of the small space.
Cassandra Faskin was an extremely successful hunter, although unlike most hunters, her prey were men on the run. Her good looks and slim sixty Kilo mass allowed her to get into places that other bounty hunters couldn't even see the outside of without causing alarm. Her slim stature also left many of her targets to underestimate her, which was generally a very costly mistake. She had made enough over the few years she had been hunting to pay for the small non-descript ship several times over, yet she stayed with what she considered to be her best friend, instead of trading it for a larger flashier ship.
The airlock chimed that it had finished cycling all of the noxious sulfur from the airlock and replaced it with the conditioned, mechanically cleaned air that she had become so used to. She pressed the code combination, another small safety feature she had installed, instead of allowing anyone who managed to get into her airlock to just walk in on her, and cycled the inner door open. Grabbing the handle of the silver hot dog shaped bag, she jerked and pulled it into the small cabin. She cycled the door closed as soon as she had it clear and then released the clamps of her helmet, pulling it off and shaking her long blond pony tail with her head as she stretched her neck muscles.
It only took her a few moments to drop into the single seat in front of the controls and engage the thrusters. The agile little ship lifted from the ground as if floating on a cushion of air and then started moving slowly forward. With each second it increased its speed and angle until it was shooing up through yellowish clouds at nearly fifty kilometers per second, breaking out into the blackness of space in only a very few minutes.
"Damn! Glad to be out of there!" She said to herself as she dialed the artificial gravity down until there was only enough left to keep things from floating off the deck. "Let's see if we can make Mister Sandeth a bit more comfortable."
She pushed herself off the seat and floated in a graceful arc across the small cabin, landing as lightly as a feather next to the silver bag. She reached down and pulled the zipper, the hotdog shape quickly deflating into a pile of silver material. Reaching into the bag, she pulled out its lone occupant with one hand, and in a slow graceful move, propelled the two of them toward the rear of the cabin, and the specially built holding cell. She stopped their motion with her feet against the back wall, and quickly secured his hands and feet into the force field locks that would keep him immobile in a spread eagle position as long as she wanted.
"Glad the trank is still working." She said to no one as she backed out of the cell and keyed in the combination to close the horizontal bars that acted as a door and erect the force field. "Now let's see you jump from this one." She said with a smirk as she turned and began undoing the closures of her pressure suit. She detested wearing the damn thing even more than other clothes. Her preference was to wear nothing, but that was rarely an option in her business, simply no place to hide any of the myriad of weapons she usually carried. She kicked off of the deck and slithered out of the suit, gracefully rolling into ball as she slipped the stiff material off her body.
She settled to the floor of the cabin, coming to rest on her backside as she finished pulling her legs from the suit. Finally free of the restrictive material, she stood up and stretched, her body shimmering in the nearly translucent skin tight body suit she wore inside the pressure suit. Pulling the small zipper down the front she kicked off the deck and floated in a graceful ballet of naked body and floating material as she worked the skin tight suit off her body until she was completely naked. She sighed and rubbed her body with both hands, stroking her skin and enjoying the lack of confinement. She settled down to the deck once again and collected the pressure suit and various components, easily stuffing them in a wall locker to contain them.
With all her equipment stowed, she kicked off the bulkhead and glided gracefully to the command chair and hooked an arm around the back, allowing herself to settle gently into the soft padded seat. It only took a few moments to plot a course to Calden Seven and engage the hyper drive. Two days and she would once again collect a large reward.
She swiveled the chair around to face the rear of the cabin and looked at her prisoner, spread eagle and naked against the back bulkhead. "Too bad. I was just starting to enjoy myself." She said to his unconscious body as she stroked her hand up her leg and across her curly blond tuft. She closed her eyes and allowed her hand to continue up her body, stroking her fingers across her firm stomach to her large breasts. She let her finger stroke the round orbs, floating in almost perfect half moons on her chest in the almost zero gravity. Her fingers circled her nipples while she slid her free hand between her legs, gently stroking her wet pussy lips slowly for what seemed like a pleasant eternity.
"Ohhhhhh damn I wanted to fuck you." She moaned as she allowed her finger press into her waiting tunnel.
"Then why did you trank me?" The voice from rear of the cabin said.
Cassandra's eyes snapped open and she stared at the captive in the back of her ship, his deep blue eyes now open and looking directly at her, his large dick standing out as if trying to plunge into where her finger had just been. "I didn't have much choice. Kirsh Sandeth, Age fourty, one hundred and eighty three centimeters, Eighty five kilos. Escaped from three maximum security lockups and worth a whopping seventeen thousand credits."
