By Hotch Rider
We pulled out of the parking lot and onto the main road, heading away from the city. It took Jack around 15 minutes to get off the main road onto a bumpy path. The walls of the truck blocked my sight of where we were. All I could see was the almost completely dark sky with even the moon and stars hiding behind the clouds. It was a chilly night.
Another 15 minutes passed before the truck stopped. The engine went quiet, Jack opened his door and got off. I didn’t hear the door closing. Instead, there was some ruffling of metal and, I’m guessing, the sound of the glovebox closing. Jack walked over to the back of the truck and lowered the tailgate. At this point, I felt the discomfort in my shoulders for the first time. I had never spent this much time in handcuffs before and certainly not in this position. Then it hit me: I couldn’t get myself out of these cuffs. They were locked and I didn’t have the key. I couldn’t just unlock my hands because I couldn’t reach my dick. No, I had to beg this man whom I’d met just a few hours ago to please have the courtesy to free me.
