A mind of her own.

Off the beaten track.

After five miles, Deke pulled into a dilapidated working garage at the edge of an isolated property. It was deserted at this time of night. The two older men who worked it during the day, his employees; retired vets, went home early in the evening.

It needed a coat of paint, and a few repairs, and he’d get around to it, now that he had finished building his own home.

There were no lights on in the adjoining house. Old Mrs. Walker retired early and slept like a log. The property was ill lit, and with a sign advertising small engine and vehicle repairs, with a telephone number. No one would dare bother her. The few neighbors were very protective of each other, and Deke was well known.

He clicked a button on his truck visor and saw the garage door roll open, with the lights going on automatically, and drove in. He parked and slid out slowly from under her, replacing his leg under her head, with that rolled up blanket and his jacket. The lights would be on for ten minutes so he had time enough to do what he needed to do. Fortunately Mrs. Walker would not come out to find out what he was doing, and see Susan half undressed, lying as she was, and unconscious to the world. The clock on the wall said it was ten o’clock. Still early, but late enough for those other two girls to have been f****d a dozen times each by now, if not more, and to be over in the motel.

Deke lugged various bits of equipment from his truck down over the bank behind the building, down to the green scum-coated slough. He checked first, shining his flashlight around, to be sure there were no alligators deciding to use the ramp to get out of the slough and go walk-about, now that it was not so hot, and then loaded everything into a small aluminum boat on the bank there. He went back and brought other things from the back of his truck, a couple of soft sacks that would serve as padding for her to lie on, and a rifle, and then went back for the bags and Susan; taking her last, as he locked everything up again and closed the garage door.

He was soon joined by a large dog coming from the house by one of those flap-doors that gave access only to the garage, so other animals would not get back in to the house, once the garage was closed. It was a one-way flap. Out, but not, In. His dogs knew how to open it from the outside with a claw in just the right place.

Meg, Mrs. Walker, would see that he had come through late, with his truck there and the dog gone. He spoke to the dog as he held Susan in his arms, and saw the dog climb into the boat too, as it usually did, and take up position at the bow.

Deke laid Susan in the bottom of the boat on the sacks, with the dog up front, and then the girls’ bags under her head. The grappling hook anchor (also used to drag a dead alligator behind him), he put it in a box up in the bow with its rope, and pushed the boat out with only minor difficulty under its heavy load, before climbing in and starting the engine. It purred quietly.

He shone his flashlight to make sure Susan was comfortable, adjusting her legs, bringing them together to hide her obvious and disturbing feminine features there, and pulling at her dress, sitting up near her waist, to get it down over her to cover her, but she was still lying on it. He turned his flashlight off, feeling like a privileged voyeur looking at her there in all of her c**k-hardening glory, and tormenting the hell out of him.

He motored along the main channel at low speed until he was clear of the only two houses that might be disturbed by his engine, turned out of the main channel, and then increased speed, putting on the powerful bow light he used to hunt big alligators at night. That light showed the way through the back channels and helped him to avoid logs and stumps, but he knew the channel well. He could have traversed it in the dark.

It was as well that it was dark. With Susan feeling the heat, and constantly adjusting her position to get comfortable and cooler, he knew that she would be a constantly disturbing vision, and a sight worth seeing, but he’d better control himself and his inevitable damned curiosity about her. He could just make out the whiteness of her skin in areas that no one was usually privileged to see, and a darker area between her legs as she relaxed again. His imagination began to work overtime. Maybe it had not been the best decision to bring her here, and with all of the temptations she constantly tormented him with, albeit unintentionally. She was temptation enough all by herself even when fully dressed.

Their cautious overtures with each other, as they smiled at each other, each smile telling its own secrets and story, were safe in the school environment, but here? If only she wasn’t so beautiful and accessible. If only he wasn’t in love with her. If only he wasn’t so erect.

After twenty minutes of steady motoring through various serpentine channels known to only a few, he ran his boat up onto the shallow slope of a concrete ramp on the shore of a property, high out of the water, and began to offload everything to the shore, unhooking the single line electric fence to pile his things high on the bank. There were tire tracks showing where the concrete ramp ended. This was where a raft could land to offload a vehicle or take one on, but this was the end of the line for any large vehicle. There was no road within a mile, except for the one he controlled.

Another dog excitedly fussed around him. It had heard him coming from miles away on the still air, despite the deadening humidity and the thick vegetation. He spoke to it kindly and gave it some attention, roughing it up as it demanded and then it went off with the other dog. He’d seen it as he pulled in and knew that no one had been here in his absence, but he already knew that. No one dared come out here without his permission. One dog, it didn’t matter which one, went with him as far as Mrs. Walker’s place. One dog stayed and discouraged the alligators. They decided which one stayed, if he didn’t.

“Yes, I got you some special food, as though you needed any. And yes, we have a visitor: Susan. You’ve never met her, but you’ve often heard me talk about her. She’s our guest, so get to know her, but you don’t have to lick her just yet, and not there. She won’t wake up. She won’t know anything about this place for a few hours. Then, she’ll wonder where she is and what the hell she landed into when she comes to. She might be as mad as a wet hen, or is just damned scared at first. Angry would be better.”

She would soon recognize him and realize that she had no need to be scared, and it would be a better experience for her than it might have been. Better, for sure, than what was happening to those other girls about now, with men all over them, touching, groping, kissing, f*****g. The f*****g would never stop for those two.

He hooked the low-lying electric fence back up again. It was a deterrent for most alligators, but not much of a deterrent. The only sure thing to deter them was his rifle.

There was a market for alligator meat in the local gourmet restaurant, with its thousand-and-one variations on crepes and toppings. There was a market for the skins too, and the skeletons, but he’d already harvested the larger ones that had been constant pests when he had been building. By killing the bigger ones, he’d stopped their predations on the younger and smaller alligators, giving those smaller animals a better chance at survival, and a better shot at growing to adulthood to be harvested in turn.

He looked upon it as wildlife-management in his own little fiefdom. Hell, he owned the whole place, about 1,000 acres of swampland. Moose Pasture, others called it scathingly, not seeing the value, or the peace here that he did.

He’d boost the power to the fence again when he got chance.

He also had an order for an alligator from another local restaurant, so he would watch for one. There were still half a dozen big ones around, but farther afield. Or he could wait for another telephone call from some anxious homeowner who had seen one crossing his lawn, and wanted it removed. Permanently removed. He got those calls about once a week. He had a state license to cover all that he did. It was a needed public service, and there were not too many people who would want to take on a big alligator.

Deke carried Susan into the largish, modern-style log cabin, put the lights on and laid her on a settee in his living room, not bothering to try and pull her dress down to cover her now. It was a waste of time and effort, and he’d have to undress her anyway. He was the only one here. He’d get his other things later. The dogs both sniffed her.

“Okay, that’s enough. There’s no need to lick her there, you rapscallion.” No, he wanted to do that for her, himself, and all of the drive out here.

He would run a bath for her and get her settled. He knew his imagination and his hormones would run away with him while he was doing that, and he would always be curious about her body and everything about her. He always had been, but what man wouldn’t have been with a body like that? At least she was relatively safe now.

It was cooler in here with the air conditioner running all day. He had worked for the last three years to build this place while he had continued to live mostly with his foster mother, Mrs. Walker, back at the small garage, which was also his office and his working base.

He rented the place from her, and it gave her an income while he kept an eye on her, or one of his dogs did. He took her in town to shop every Saturday to get together with her friends. She didn’t much like to drive herself, but she had a car in one of the bays of the small garage for those times he wasn’t there, was at the school, or was called out to take care of some persistent wildlife.

He went back to the boat for the rest of his things and to anchor it.