By Desert Pioneer
“Well, what’s missing from this picture?” thinks Jack. Cowboy Cop doesn’t want me around the rest stop. Could be a drug sale or maybe prostitution. Or could be he’s just an asshole. Rather than pulling out onto the highway Jack circles around the rest stop, up through where the truckers park and back down in the car section. “Well one thing that’s missing is a police car,” Jack notes. He’s either not on official business, or most likely not a cop at all.
As he circles around back into the truck parking Jack notices one of the truckers walking towards but not to the men’s room. Jack backs his car into the most remote upper space of the truck parking and turns off the engine. Really tough to see where this guy is headed to, perhaps the wooded area behind the stop.
“OK, this is what fantasy is all about,” Jack figures. Trucker headed to the woods and some dress-up cop protecting the area. Yeah out here in red neck back country; most likely to be a gun club or maybe poker, drinking and cigars. Jack gets out of his car and moves around the edge of the rest area trying to position himself for a deeper look into the woody area behind the men’s room. He stations himself leaning on a tree a bit behind the men’s room and barely makes out a path leading into the woods.
“Cigars are hot,” Jack thinks, remembering a SIR he ran into some time ago. SIR simply asked Jack to suck him off. A vanilla enough request from a 50-something dad-bod Jack met at a local bar. SIR was about 5-foot-9 with a leather Capitan’s hat fitted low into his face, sung dark T shirt and leather vest, jeans and boots. Appropriate to the venue but indicating only a salute to a fetish. Oh yes and a heavy leather belt with a longhorn cow buckle.
SIR carries himself as a man with an attitude, standing solidly on his feet and not leaning on any post or rail. He is with another man, but it does not look like they are talking much. As soon as he spots Jack he gives the man a goodbye fist tap on his chest and walks directly to Jack. He doesn’t waste any time on trite lines or small talk; holding an eye-to-eye contact, SIR walks up to Jack and says, “Blow me faggot.”
“Yes Sir,” Jack replies.
“Let’s go.”
SIR removes the unfinished can of beer from Jack’s hand and without any further words motions Jack to follow him out.
The two head for the parking lot, Jack gets into his little black roadster car, and as instructed, follows SIR to his house. “Yeah look at this guy’s oversized truck, he must have a really small dick,” Jack grinned. Both park in the driveway and again with a silent motion Jack follows SIR into the back door and immediately down a flight of stairs.
“Holly shit,” exclaims Jack. The basement is a dungeon, more than a dungeon, more like a sex club. There are two slings in the corner, and what looks like low gymnastic pommel horse between them. Further over a six-foot crucifix is anchored into the floor. Underneath the stairs is a wooden booth much like in a porn shop, complete with glory hole. Deep into another corner might be a stockade. Rope and handcuffs are available from a low metal table, which is placed next to an animal cage. Several video monitors mounted to the ceiling. Jack blurts out, “You’ve got what here, a couple of slings, a hole in the wall, porn…”
“Shut up,” with a low voice Sir cuts off Jack’s blabber quickly and directly. “For as long as you are here you are obedient. And for as long as you are in my presence the only thing that will come out of your mouth other than my dick, and only when I take my dick out of your faggot pie hole, is ‘Yes Sir’ and you will only say it when you are given a command. Do you understand”?
“Yes Sir,” Jack replied, figuring this will be a lot less vanilla than first thought and giving consent to SIR to proceed.
“Go behind that curtain and take off all of your clothes. Then wait there silently until I call for you.”
“Yes Sir,” Jack obeyed. Behind the curtain appears to be some kind of supply area. Although dark, Jack makes out a number of leather harnesses and several dildos of various sizes. The area is dusty and unkept, probably toys that SIR has discarded. Jack noted that SIR gave him disobedient behavior as kind of a safe word. Sex with a safe word is new to Jack and he figures this is likely more than just a blow job. “I wonder if I’ve gotten in over my head?” Jack thinks. Still, the fear rush is overwhelming.
Jack could hear but not see SIR at work. Sometimes just a slow rush of fabric, other times messing with a video player. Still, he seemed to be taking an inordinate amount of time; all the while doubt, fear, and anticipation racing through Jack’s mind.
WHAMM… Jack’s drifting mind suddenly brought back to the rest stop with a solid gut punch that came out of nowhere followed by a cloth bag over his head and tied at his neck.
To be continued …
