Hitchhiker (M/F, some F/F)

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slackywacky
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Hitchhiker (M/F, some F/F)

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The rain poured down as I drove my Mack Anthem truck at 5 AM through the gates of the border checkpoint at the Blue Water Bridge between Sarnia, Ontario, Canada and Port Huron, MI, USA, getting back from a trip to Toronto. The rain was part of a large system covering most of Ontario and Michigan. The 4-hour drive and the border crossing had been uneventful, one of the reasons I love to drive at night, and I was looking forward to making some good time on Interstate 69, until I would hit Interstate 94 and finally my goal for today, Chicago. As a 34-year-old owner/driver, I needed the trips. And being single helped, as I didn’t have to worry about a wife, kids or dogs. I have a trailer in Nevada, close to Las Vegas, that I call home, but it had been 9 weeks since I been there, I preferred to be on the road. I do not make money when I am ‘at home’.

“Hmmm, what is this?” I said to myself.

The truck in front of me was stopped, blocking the entrance to the Interstate. I didn’t have to wait long before he pulled away and it became clear why he had stopped. At the entrance of the Interstate stood a young woman dressed in shorts and a cut-off t-shirt, her long blond hair in a ponytail and flipflops on her feet. Her hand raised in that universal signal of wanting a ride. Normally I am skeptic about taking hitchhikers along, but she looked miserable in the wet weather. A small backpack stood next to her and that seemed to be all her luggage. Now at least I knew why the truck in front of me had stopped. I stopped next to her, leaned over and opened the passenger door.

“Where are you going?” I asked her.

Close up she was looking even more miserable then from a distance.

“Anywhere but this place.” She replied, looking hopeful at me.

She was good looking, the wet t-shirt covered a full set of breasts but not much more under her breasts, the shorts showed a nice bum and her face, even if it was wet, looked pretty with bright blue eyes.

“Come on in. I am heading to Chicago.”

I figured that with the load of empty pallets I was carrying, robbery was not really something I had to think about. Yes, my Mack was only two-month-old and only had 15k on the clock but stealing trucks in the rain was probably not what she had in mind.

“Hi, I am Elsa. Thank you for taking me along.”

Her accent was unfamiliar, it sounded European. She must have seen me think, as she answered my unasked question.

“I am from Sweden.”

My dirty mind imagined her in Swedish movies that my dad used to watch. I shook my head and focused on the road, entering the Interstate.

“Jack.” I said.

“Hi Jack, nice to meet you.”

Her voice was soft. I told her that she could use the towel in the storage cabinet to dry herself a bit. I could only offer her a bottle of water, I had my coffee before crossing into the US, and the border crossing could be difficult, so I carried as little as possible that could upset the border agent. Today had been a good crossing, just a quick paper check and I was through, but I had experienced differently.

“Thank you.” She said, while moving to the area behind the seats.

My Mack Anthem 64T has the 70” sleeper cabin, which gave a nice amount of space and since I am on my own most of the time, it was plenty of space. The cabin was high enough to be able to stand straight up. Behind the passenger seat was a fridge, a flatscreen TV and a microwave. My cabin had the one bed option, which meant I had extra storage above my bed with 3 cabinets. A little window on either side of the bed that was large enough for me, allowed some airflow and I could see out if I wanted to when resting. Behind my seat was a storage cabinet for hanging my clothes, the controls for the climate system and a few drawers. A multimedia system was built into the space above the front windshield. Under the bed, you had to lift the bed up, was a large storage space, which in my case was filled with useless stuff that I still had to get rid of.

“Thank you.” Elsa said.

She had changed her t-shirt from the wet and short one to a more regular one. It was a little tight and you had to be blind not to notice that she was not wearing a bra. She sat down in the passenger seat again and buckled up. She had left the flipflops with her wet t-shirt on the floor of the sleeper cabin.

“We can throw those away.” She said, when she saw me look at it.

“Fine with me.”

“I hung the towel on the hook. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, no issues.”

“Oh, and I put your magazine back where I found it.”

I had to think about what magazine she meant, until I remembered that I had been reading one of the Bondage Life magazines I own and had put it with the towels last evening before I left Toronto.

“Sorry.” I said, not knowing what to tell her.

“You are not a perv, are you?” She asked, looking at me with a side glance, which made her face look pretty.

“No. Would you like me to stop and let you out?”

“No, I trust you. Have you ever tied somebody up?” She asked, surprising me with the direct question.

I had indeed tied up several of my high school friends when I was younger and occasionally I had met women who enjoyed being tied up during my trucking life, so I told her.

“What is it like?” She asked.

“You mean you never played cowboy and Indians when you were younger?” I asked her.

“No, I actually have never been tied.”

“How old are you?”

“22. Do you want to see my ID?”

I shook my head, I believed her.

“I have only been tied as a kid; I like to see woman in bondage, not men.”

‘Bondage?” She asked.

“That what they call it when you get tied up. Maybe you should read the magazine. It is old, I got them from my dad, you could say tying up people ran in the family, but it will give you some insight in what bondage is about.” I told her.

She nodded, turned in her seat and grabbed the bondage magazine from its hiding place. It was Bondage Life 9, which was released in 1981 and showed Dawn Chauvain on the cover. I showed her how to turn on the reading light and she settled in, while I navigated the Michigan morning traffic.

“Don’t hesitate to ask me anything if you have questions.” I said

We had passed Lansing and almost made it to Interstate 94, before she finished the magazine, placing it on the dash.

“I like this ‘love bondage’ thing they are talking about. It seems that the person tied is more in control than the person applying the ropes.” She said.

I was impressed by her deduction.

“Up to a degree, yes. But imagine you are tied up in a basement and you have been left alone. At that point in time you do not have much control over the situation.”

“I read the stories in the magazine, especially the one where she was tied up and left for hours. That one was exciting. Unable to get away, depending on somebody else for your release, unless you can escape. Have you done that?”

I did not answer immediately. The rain had finally stopped and even the sun was starting to come out from behind the clouds. There was a truck stop coming up and I figured we could get some breakfast.

“Breakfast?” I asked her.

“Yeah, and I might want to buy some new shirts and shoes.” She grinned.

I pulled into the truck stop and we walked over to the restaurant. It was busy; Interstate 94 is used by a lot of traffic from Canada, but there was enough space left and we settled in a booth along the window.

“Breakfast is on me.” I said. “Order what you want. I will not stop until we get to Chicago, so make it count.”

Her demeanor relaxed, as if she had decided something, and when the waitress came for the order, she ended up ordering the same as me, the truck drivers’ breakfast and coffee.

“I’ll go to the store while we wait, okay?”

“You don’t have to ask me for permission.” I replied.

She smiled, a smile I really started to like, and got out of the booth and walked away.

“More coffee, luv?” The waitress asked.

I nodded. I had looked at Elsa walking away, a sway in her hips, and I noticed other men, and even a few women, looked at her while she passed them. Her long barefoot legs seem to float over the floor. The coffee was a welcome distraction, as my manhood was starting to stir.

“Focus.” I told myself.

By the time the breakfast was delivered to the table, Elsa walked back into the dining area. She was no longer barefoot, having bought yellow crocs, and was carrying two plastic bags.

“Did you empty the store?” I asked when she sat down.

“No, but I’ll show you want I bought after we get back to the truck, assuming you don’t mind me tagging along a little longer?”

“No, no problem.”

There was that smile again. During breakfast she told me why she was hitchhiking, she wanted to make her trip as random as possible. She did not have a fixed destination, she just wanted to see America. I told her that could be dangerous, but she told me she had a black belt in karate and knew how to handle herself. I got a newfound respect for her.

“I don’t know yet where I will be going after Chicago, but you are welcome to tag along.” I told her.

She smiled again and I lost myself in her eyes.

“Euh…” I forgot what I was going to say.

We finished breakfast, she told me about how she got to Port Huron and I told her how I ended up being a truck driver. I settled the bill and after visiting the restrooms, we headed back to the truck. I had to fill up gas and while I filled the tanks, she was unpacking the stuff she bought.

“All done.” I said, climbing into the cab and settling in my chair.

“Look what I bought?” She said.

I turned around, looked at the bed. My eyes got wide. Several coils of rope and a role of duct tape were lying on the bed. It was not the greatest rope, but a truck stop is not a bondage store, but it was soft.

“Will you tie me up?” She asked, a big smile on her face.

“Euh… Okay.” I replied, remembering to breathe again.

I pulled the truck away from the gas pump, another truck was waiting behind me, and pulled over into the large parking, staying away a little from the other trucks.

“Are you sure?” I asked her.

“Yes, and I want it to be like Dawn in the magazine, tight. And don’t tell me when you will let me go, I want to feel like I have been kidnapped.”

I looked at her dumbfounded for a moment. This beautiful Swedish woman, who I had only met a few hours before, was asking me to tie her up. That was a first, but I did not let that stop me.

“Okay. Let’s do this.” I said, after turning off the truck.

She had moved onto the bed, sitting on it with folded legs, looking away from me, holding her hands together behind her back. I uncoiled the 30 feet long rope and cut a length of it. She had gotten ¼-inch rope, which worked well for restraining her. I wrapped her wrists 8 times, before cinching it and tying a knot.

“How does that feel?” I asked.

She experimented with how much she could move her wrists but found the ropes restricted movement decently.

“Interesting.” She told me.

It was an interesting answer, I thought. Not one I was expecting.

“Elbows?” I asked.

She just nodded. I figured that if she had done karate, she might be flexible, so I cut of another length of rope and wrapped it around her elbows, pulling them closer and closer. I was willing to stop when she would complain, but she never did, and the ropes pulled her elbows all the way together. This rope also got cinched and knotted. I noticed that she noticed that tying her elbows had forced her full breasts out even more. Her nipples were hard under the t-shirt. My dick was protesting because it was stuck and I had to stick my hands in my pants and move it, so it had more space. A good thing Elsa was looking the other way.

“Okay?” I asked.

She nodded, moving her arms, testing the feeling.

“I don’t think I would get out of the elbow rope without help.” She said.

“That’s the plan. But we’re not done yet.” I told her.

She grinned.

“Go do your worst, you evil kidnapper.” She said, laughing.

The next rope went several times around her waist and arms and was cinched between her arms and her back, removing the ability to move her arms. I had pulled the rope tight, almost like a corset, but she did not complain. The rope around her upper body was tight too, circling her body above and below her breasts, I even ran the rope around her shoulder, behind her neck and back to her other shoulder, before connecting the rope from her elbows to her neck, pulling everything tight. At this point she was helpless and relying on me to let her out.

“It feels weird.” She said. “As if I am being hugged.”

“Nothing hurts?” I asked.

“It feels fine. Helpless, but fine.” She replied, wriggling her upper body.

The ropes did not shift, as I knew they would not.

“Lie down.” I told her. “On your stomach.”

She moved around a little and ended up facing the passenger side of the truck. I cut another length of rope and crossed her ankles, which forced her knees out. I was waiting to see if I was getting a reaction, but she just accepted the position. Wrapping the rope around her ankles meant she could no longer close her legs. I was not sure if she was aware of it until I noticed her breathing had changed a little.

“Let me know when it is too tight.” I said, connecting the rope from her ankles to her elbows, pulling her ankles closer and closer to her hands.

She never said anything, and I tied the rope off when her hands were touching her feet. This was one flexible woman.

“How does that feel?” I asked.

She struggled a little, but it was difficult to move, I could tell.

“I feel helpless. Luckily, I can still scream for help.” She said.

I grinned and grabbed the duct tape. I tore of a strip of 8 inches and plastered it over her mouth. She hummed a little. I dropped the role of tape next to her and stuffed the rest of the rope, we had hardly used half of what she had bought, in one of the storage drawers I did not use.

“Okay?” I asked one more time.

“No.” She replied, the tape on her mouth not stopping her from talking.

I looked at her and smiled. She had worked the tape loose in a few minutes.

“I need a better gag if I want to feel really helpless.” She said.

I grinned.

“Yeah, this works in Hollywood, but not in real life.” I replied.

I grabbed one of my clean socks and rolled it up.

“Open up.” I said.

She had not seen what I had done, so the sock was a surprise to her, but she accepted it without complaining. Instead of using a single piece of tape to cover her mouth, I wrapped the tape around her head several times, covering her mouth from nose to chin.

“Now try to say something?” I told her.

“Hmmpppffff.”

She looked content that she could not talk.

“Still good?” I asked.

She nodded, her eyes smiling. I looked at the pretty Swedish girl on my bed and almost wanted to pinch myself to make sure I was not dreaming.

“I need to get driving again, otherwise I will miss my drop-off. You try to get a feeling for your situation. I will let you out sometime, but not anytime soon.” I told her.

I saw a glimmer of panic in her eyes, she probably realized what she had gotten herself into and that there was nothing she could do about it. I got back in the driver’s seat, started the engine, looked at Elsa once more, before heading out onto the Interstate again. Chicago, here we come!
Last edited by slackywacky 2 months ago, edited 2 times in total.
Thanks for reading. Feel free to comment.
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LatexLover
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Post by LatexLover »

Please tell me there’ll be more

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Post by Switcher1313 »

Liking it so far! Keep it up!
Practice safe sex! Tie your partner down to the bed so she doesn't fall off!

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Post by Bandit666 »

I agree please say there’s more to come, a lot more, I’d have no objections to this becoming a long running saga like your fabulous “models by choice” tale

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Post by Tenuous »

I liked this story a lot. It's hot and compelling, but just as importantly I had fun reading it, watching Jack and Elsa's friendship develop and seeing Elsa's introduction into bondage. Like the others, I really hope that there'll be more of this; seeing their relationship develop further would be nice, and I'm always eager for stories about a girl bound and gagged in a vehicle, with no idea where she's being taken or when she'll be released.

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Post by Caesar73 »

Tenuous wrote:
3 months ago
I liked this story a lot. It's hot and compelling, but just as importantly I had fun reading it, watching Jack and Elsa's friendship develop and seeing Elsa's introduction into bondage. Like the others, I really hope that there'll be more of this; seeing their relationship develop further would be nice, and I'm always eager for stories about a girl bound and gagged in a vehicle, with no idea where she's being taken or when she'll be released.

I agree to all of the above :)

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Post by OldTUGger »

Excellent story! It would work fine as a stand-alone piece, but as others have said, we hope it continues!
Links to all of my stories can be found here in the Story Catalog: https://www.tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=46&t=6023

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Post by slackywacky »

Thank you to everybody who commented. Just picking one of the comments for my remarks.
Tenuous wrote:
3 months ago
I liked this story a lot. It's hot and compelling, but just as importantly I had fun reading it, watching Jack and Elsa's friendship develop and seeing Elsa's introduction into bondage. Like the others, I really hope that there'll be more of this; seeing their relationship develop further would be nice, and I'm always eager for stories about a girl bound and gagged in a vehicle, with no idea where she's being taken or when she'll be released.
I did not write this to be a single (long) short, I intended it to have a few more chapters. I have some ideas that I want to work out and I indeed want to develop the relation further. I do not think it will be going into the same number of chapters as some of my other stories, but I have said that before (on my "All in the family" story) and see where that got me. :-)

I am also not sure how often I will update this. It all depends on my time and my mood. keeping 3 stories going with regular updates might be a bit much, but we'll see. Bottom line, there will be more.
Thanks for reading. Feel free to comment.
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Post by Beaumains »

Brilliant story. You have come up again with an interesting cast of characters, an unusual decor, and a slightly different tone than usual. The idea you could just find such a bondage-crazy girl next to the road, is an eye-opener, although I would be weary, to say the least. Let's see how this relationship will develop. Keep up the good work.

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Post by wolfman »

Another really excellent, well crafted and fun story, would love to see more of these two characters.
View my latest story, Revelation, here;

http://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=1 ... 7f6#p65153

To see it's prequel click below.

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Post by Boundcurious »

Thank you for giving the hope of more, I certainly look forward to it as and when you have time to write it :)

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Post by slackywacky »

Beaumains wrote:
3 months ago
The idea you could just find such a bondage-crazy girl next to the road, is an eye-opener
I probably have more chance winning the 'staatsloterij'/Powerball lottery :-)

But that is the fun of fiction. I would love to say this was my own idea, but it is based on a readers entry in an old Bondage Life magazine, although that truck driver had 2 girls (and the story sounded fake like hell), but it was a fun idea, so I ran with it.

And I put it in the Adult section for a reason. :lol:
Thanks for reading. Feel free to comment.
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Post by slackywacky »

My PrePass weigh station sensor beeped and showed me that I had to stop at the weigh station. It did not happen often, the bypass system worked well, but occasionally you still would get tagged for a check and this happened to be one of them. I already passed three weigh stations without having to stop. I turned down the SiriusXM radio that was playing the latest country music.

“I have to stop at the weigh station. Normally they do not enter the cab, but I’ll close the curtain anyway, okay?” I said to Elsa.

I did not really expect a reply, my sock in her mouth and the duct tape around her head made sure of that, but she groaned a little. We had been on the road for an hour and a half since the truck stop and I had made good time but getting closer to Chicago also meant traffic was increasing. My destination was not really in Chicago, but Gary, close to the Chicago International Airport, a warehouse on Broadway, which was a lot less glamorous as its New York counterpart. The weigh station was on Interstate 94, before we would hit I-65. It was busy, eight trucks in front of me, so I wondered why they had me called in, but it could happen at any time.

“There are a few trucks in front of me, so this might take a little while.” I told Elsa.

I looked behind the curtain at the blond hogtied on my bed. She was still much as I had left her when we departed the truck stop. Her fingers were still trying to find a knot, something that she had been doing for a while. Her struggling was calm and collected, no big all out struggle, but feeling around, trying to find a way out. The gag did its job, she had not said a word and her deep blue eyes, eyes I could lose myself in, where smiling. Being tied with her legs wide meant that turning on her side was not possible, my bed was not wide enough for that, the rear wall was in the way or she would fall off the bed, depending on which way she was turning.

“Our turn.” I said when the truck in front of me cleared the scales.

My truck and trailer were exactly like my PrePass system said, and the officer at the scales just waived me through when he saw that. I was kind of disappointed, I had noticed Elsa had been a little more nervous when I told her we had to stop for the scales. It could mean somebody would see her.

“All done.” I told her, opening the curtain, so she could look at me if she wanted to.

It also made her visible to others who could see into the cabin, but that was a very slim chance while we were driving.

“Hmmppppfffff.” Elsa grunted, the tape around her head prevented her to say anything I could understand.

As I was driving, I could not see what she wanted to convey, but it did not sound like it was an emergency, so I ignored her. This part of the journey was busy, the switch to I-65 from I-94 was ahead and it was taken by a lot of people who wanted to avoid the Interstate 90 toll road. I took N-51 just before the I-65 exit because there was a Blue Beacon truck wash and the company who owned the trailer I was transporting wanted it washed before drop-off. After navigating the road works, I entered the truck wash queue behind a tanker truck, being second in line, another truck was in the wash bay, but I could not see what it was, as the large doors were closed. Being second in line normally meant it would take up to 45 minutes before my wash was done unless the truck in the bay was almost done. In that case it would still be 30 minutes. Enough time to walk over to the Flying J gas station next door and get coffee and a snack. For a moment I considered releasing Elsa, but the rope marks would be hard to explain. The employee of the truck wash came up to my door. I recognized him, this was a supply run I had done a few times in the last three weeks, so I had been in the truck wash a few times. I lowered the window.

“Back again, are we?” The guy asked me, I remembered his name was Steven, but I could have read it from the name tag on his clothing.

“Hi Steven, how are you?”

“Doing good. The usual?”

“Yeah. I’ll get some coffee. Keys are in the ignition.”

It was not that somebody would drive of with the truck and trailer, as there were already two trucks behind me and there was no space to pass the truck in front. It was common practice to have the staff from the truck wash drive the truck and trailer into the bay. Steven made a note and walked over to the truck behind me.

“I am getting some coffee; would you like a drink?” I asked Elsa.

She nodded and tried to say something in her gag.

“Coke?” I asked and she shook her head.

“Diet coke?”

This game went on for a little while until we settled on a Root Beer.

“Okay. Now, I will be away from the truck. The truck is at a truck wash, as you might have picked up. They will drive the truck into the wash bay. Don’t make a sound, or they might see you. Understood?”

I could see that she was not completely agreeing to my plan, but even after the few hours on the road since the truck stop, she was still helplessly tied and gagged, so she knew arguing was of no use and I could do whatever I wanted.

“Good girl.” I told her, closing the curtain, making sure the Velcro was closed properly.

Unless they would open the curtain, whoever was going to drive the truck would not see her. I climbed out of the truck, just as Steven was walking by.

“My partner is asleep.” I told him.

“Okay, I’ll make a note. We’ll be as quiet as we can.”

I nodded and walked towards the Flying J gas station. The coffee was fresh, and I sat down at a table where I could see the entrance to the wash bay. The truck ahead of mine went in, and one of the staff got into my truck and moved it to in front of the big doors of the bay. Some of the other staff pre-washed the truck and trailer, while the tanker truck was in the bay.

“More coffee?” The young waitress asked.

I nodded and she refilled my cup. I did not really pay attention to her; my mind was on how Elsa would be doing. When she talked about the articles she had read in the Bondage Life, she had gravitated against more restrictive photo sets and stories, and that had been part of my decision when she asked to be tied to make it as restrictive as it was. Other women I played with over the years would have kept the single strip of tape gag on, even if it didn’t do much, but Elsa had immediately loosened it. It had resulted in the wrap around stuffing and tape gag she was currently sporting, but she had seen happy with it.

“Here you are.” The waitress brought me the salad I had ordered.

I tried to eat healthy and so far it worked. I was 6 feet tall, short brown hair, a slim body, which was rare for most truck drivers, except for the Indian guys, but I was not very sporty. I ate healthy, I tried to walk everyday and made sure to stay away from bad foods, except coffee.

“Thank you.” I said.

Just as I finished my salad, the truck was being driven into the bay. I knew how long the washing took, so I finished my coffee, got the Root Beer for Elsa, settled my bill and walked back to the truck wash. Steven was standing at the small entrance door.

“Nice truck. We don’t see many yet.” He said.

I liked my Mack. If you were really nitpicking, it was not a Mack at all, the Mack brand had been bought by AB Volvo, but it stood out from the other brands.

“Yeah, it is a good truck.”

“Where are you heading next?”

“Don’t know yet, waiting for two offers to come in. Might be going south, or maybe back to Toronto.” I said.

I really did not want to go back to Toronto, but money is money.

“Well, she is done.” Steven said after he listened to his radio. “You can drive her out, the bill will be emailed to you.”

One of the advantages of being a ‘regular’, you did not have to pay at the truck wash. I walked into the steamy wash bay and climbed into the truck and started the engine. The doors of the bay opened, and I drove the combination out of the wash bay. Surprisingly, Elsa did not make a sound, until I figured that she had no idea it was me driving the truck. I stopped on the parking lot of the Flying J and opened and close the door, as if I got out of the truck. A slight sigh came from behind the curtain, as if she had been holding her breath while she thought somebody from the truck wash was driving the truck. I turned quietly and suddenly pulled the curtains open.

“Hmmmmppppffff.” She shrieked.

I laughed and I got an angry look from Elsa.

“What? You thought it was somebody else?” I asked her.

She nodded slowly.

“Hmmppppfffff.” She said, which might have not been too flattering for me if I had understood what she said.

I grinned, stared at her tightly bound body some more before I turned back in my seat and started moving the truck again. She really was good looking. Her ass was nice and tight, long legs strained against their bonds, her breasts full, but being squashed a little because she was lying on her belly. Her long blond hair looked natural, which was not uncommon for people from Sweden I knew.

“Just because of that, you can stay there till after my cargo drop-off.” I said.

A low growl escaped her gag, but I could tell she knew that she was relying on me for her release as she just put her head down on the mattress and waited for things to come.

“We’re almost there. It is just a drop-off, I don’t have to stay around, so it should be quick.” I told her.

Broadway was just a short distance away from the Flying J and traffic proved to be not too bad. When I got to the yard, I stopped at the guard, got the location for the drop-off and entered the yard. Putting the trailer backwards between two other trailers was easy enough and once the trailer was on the spot it needed to be, I got out, lowered the trailer feet, disconnected the hoses and climbed back into the cabin. I pulled the truck forward, before getting out again and checking if everything was correct.

“Just some paperwork and we’ll be out of here.” I told Elsa when I climbed back into the truck again, satisfied I had completed the job.

It was just after 6, which meant that at this time of year, summer, we had a few hours of sunlight left.

“Hmmppffff.” Elsa grunted.

I finished the paperwork, completed my logs, which were all electronic in this truck, luckily, as I hated paperwork, and drove to the guard shack.

“Here you go.” I told the guard, handing him the shipping order form, about the only piece of paper left in the whole process.

“See you next week?” He asked me.

“Don’t know yet, we’ll see.”

I waved goodbye and drove away from the yard. I was looking for a spot to park without too many visitors and found one not far from the yard I had just left. I parked the truck, shut off the engine and turned towards Elsa. I had not closed the curtain; I knew the guard could not see inside the truck and a little danger of being discovered was not bad in my opinion.

“Would you like to get out?” I asked, although I could guess what the answer would be.

She nodded enthusiastically at those words and I grinned; but made no movement towards releasing her yet.

“Hmmppffff.” She said, which I interpreted as ‘please’.

I watched her for a few more minutes, before starting to release the ropes that held her in the hogtie. She sighed when she could move her legs again. I helped her sit up and started on the ropes around her upper body. I accidentally touched her left breast, but other than a soft grunt, there was no reaction to it. Her nipples were hard again and they were poking through the tight t-shirt. I took my time untying the rope and had a few more ‘accidental’ touches. Her reaction was the same, she grunted, but when I watched her face, it looked more like pleasure than annoyance with me touching her.

“Almost done with this one.” I said, looking in her blue eyes.

I stopped untying her, while losing myself again in her eyes. Her eyes glowed above the tight duct tape around her head. My groin reacted, so I focused back on the task at hand, not wanting to embarrass myself. The rope around her waist was next and that left only the elbows and wrists.

“Maybe I should keep you this way.” I said.

Her eyes sparkled, before she shook her head. Not wanting to push my limits, I untied her elbows and wrists and for the first time in over five hours she was free, except for the gag, and I made no movements as to undo the tape. She got the idea and started to work on the tape herself. The last few wraps were the hard ones, as her hair stuck to the tape, but she managed. The sock she pulled out of her mouth was soaked and she dropped it on the floor, along side her flipflops and cut-off t-shirt she had on when I met her, that I had not discarded yet.

“Water?” I asked her.

She just nodded, moving her jaw to get her voice working again.

“That was intense.” She said, after drinking a bit of water.

“What? This? Tied in a simple hogtie?”

“If you had told me yesterday I would be in a ‘hogtie’ for 5 hours, I would not have known what that meant, but the magazine explained a lot, and I would have said you were crazy.”

I smiled.

“If you had told me yesterday I would have a gorgeous Swedish girl tied in a hogtie in my truck, I would have declared you mad too. But here we are.”

She drank some more water.

“So now what?” She asked. “Are you done?”

Her question reminded me that I needed to check my emails, to see what my next load would be.

“Let me check my email. I also presume you would like something to eat, maybe a shower?”

“A shower would be nice. And food, and a good drink for that matter, would not be frowned upon.” She replied.

She crawled into the passenger seat, fixing her hair back into a ponytail and rubbing her wrists and elbows from being tied so long. She finished the bottle of water and just sat there in the passenger seat, staring out of the window. Not that there was much to see, trees and bushes with another warehouse behind the trees, as I had parked away from the road.

“Yes.” I said.

“New load?” She asked.

“Yes. I have to pick up an intermodal at the CP yard and take it to Chattanooga.”

“Intermodal? CP?” She kept asking questions.

“An intermodal is a container. And CP stands for Canadian Pacific railways. It is funny how the Canadian railways own several US based train companies. I don’t really enjoy pulling containers, as they can be heavy, but it is better than getting used pallets from Toronto and, more importantly, they pay better. Pickup is tomorrow afternoon, so I have time.”

“Where is Chattanooga?”

“Almost straight south from here, just past Nashville, Tennessee, the country capital of the world. Have you been there yet?”

“No, I landed in Buffalo, got to Ann Arbor, where I got a ride north, but I did not want to go to Canada, and that is where you picked me up.”

“Would you like to go to Chattanooga?” I asked her, hoping she would say yes.

“Are you going to keep me tied up the whole way?”

I was not sure she wanted to know if I would, or if she were telling me I could.

“It is over 600 miles. Luckily, I have enough time to deliver, so I do not need to hurry, but if you want you can be tied up all the time.”

“I won’t get to see much of the country that way, do I?”

“No, but I would be enjoying myself the whole way watching you.” I told her.

“Shower? Food?” She reminded me, not replying to my taunt.

“We’ll go to the Flying J we were at earlier, shower, clean up and then I’ll take you downtown Chicago. We’ll go and walk on the Navy Pier. We’ll be taking the train, as I am not driving downtown with this truck.” I said.

“Sounds good to me.” Elsa replied.

I started the engine and backed up, before driving to the Flying J, where I parked the truck and I showed her where the showers were before I took one myself. While I showered I considered sleeping arrangements, as my truck only had the single bed and I did not look forward to sleeping in the seats. When I got back to the truck, Elsa was already waiting, but the doors were locked. Even I am not stupid enough to leave my truck unlocked in Chicago. I had come up with a plan.

“Ready?” I asked her.

She had changed to clean shorts and another t-shirt, again with no bra, and her crocs. Her hair was hanging loose around her face. She smiled at me, that smile that sucked you in like a magnet, and for a moment I forgot what I was going to say.

“Euh… As you have seen, the truck only has a single bed, so we must come up with some sleeping arrangements. But I do have a tent in the truck, which I use when it gets hot. One of us can sleep in the truck, the other in the tent. Does that work for you?”

“Yes, I am used to sleeping in tents, so no problem.” She said, looking happy I had solved the issue.

“Good. We’ll take the train downtown, we’ll eat at Cupitol on East Illinois Street, a place I love, and well walk the pier. Once we get back, I’ll drive us to another truck stop that has a campground. Sounds good?”

“Let’s go. I can’t wait to see Chicago.”

It was several hours later when we arrived back at the truck. We were not in a hurry, as my trailer pickup time was in the afternoon, but we headed out to the other truck stop and parked the truck on the designated spot, which had a strip of grass next to it where I pitched the tent. Unfortunately, I was tired, I had been driving most of the day and drinking while in downtown Chicago, as had Elsa, so I said goodnight to Elsa and climbed back in the truck. She had insisted I take the truck, as I was driving, which I did not mind. I would have loved to sit with her for a while and chat some more, but I needed my sleep. I was still hoping I was not dreaming and that she would be still there when I woke up.
Thanks for reading. Feel free to comment.
Slackywacky aka FH.

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Mister The Edge
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Post by Mister The Edge »

Good story.

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Post by LatexLover »

Still loving this. It’s very detailed.

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Post by Tenuous »

This chapter was excellent. Can't wait to read about their trip to Chattanooga.

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slackywacky
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Post by slackywacky »

I am normally an early riser, you get used to sleeping at weird hours as a truck driver, but I think the drinks from last night in downtown Chicago had made me more sleepy than normal, as the dash clock told me it was just after 9 AM when I woke up. I heard birds chirping, the occasional car and truck, and a few voices. I remembered where I was, I had used this truck stop before. It was not a real truck stop, more a campground that offered truck drivers a few parking spots large enough for an 18-wheeler, but with a picnic table, BBQ and some grass to put a tent up.

“Tent.” I said to myself, not wanting to look outside to discover that the tent was not there.

I turned around and looked through the small window above my bed and saw the yellow top of my small 2-person tent. I sighed and laid back on my bed, smiling. Walking around Chicago with Elsa had been great. Dinner was nice, she paid for hers and mine, the Navy Pier was the usual bustle of tourists, but it was nice to have something to do other than hang around the truck. I learned a lot about Elsa’s background. She had been an undergraduate at the university in Uppsala, some 30 miles north of Stockholm. It was the oldest University in Sweden with a high international standing, but she had felt bored and wanted to see the word. She already travelled much of Europe, doing the same as she was doing now, unplanned hitchhiking, and now it was time to discover America. It had only been 2 days that she had been in the country before I picked her up.

“You awake yet?”

Somebody knocked on my driver door and Elsa’s voice asked the question.

“Give me a sec.” I replied.

I threw back the blanket, opened the curtains and looked out of the driver side window. This gorgeous young blond woman was standing outside, looking back at me. I had not been dreaming, she was real. Looking at her I noticed she had already showered and looked ready to go in her cut-off jeans and light-yellow sleeveless t-shirt, her hair tied in the by now customary ponytail.

“Morning Jack, slept well?” She asked when I opened the door and got out of the truck.

“What time did you get up?” I asked her.

“Around 7, I don’t need much sleep, plus I did not have much to do yesterday, just some lying around.” She grinned.

“Let me get a shower and we’ll get some breakfast. If you can get the sleeping bag and tent packed up, we’ll be ready to go soon.” I said.

She nodded and got to work on the tent. It took me a little longer than usual for my morning shower. I was standing under the hot water and remembered yesterday. Seeing in my mind those tight ropes holding her beautiful body tightly restrained, the tape wrapped around her head silencing her, her breathing pushing her full breasts against the tight strands of rope around her upper body every time she inhaled, made my manhood react and I had to help myself. I let the water run longer than normal, but nobody was waiting for my shower stall, so I took my time.

“You took your time.” Elsa said when I came back to the truck.

She had a knowing look on her face, or at least I thought she did, and I almost turned red. I turned away from her and climbed in the truck, putting my stuff away, before coming out again to help her with the tent and the sleeping bag.

“I hope the sleeping bag was not too warm.” I said, rolling it into a small package.

“No, it was not. I tend to sleep naked, so it was just fine.”

The thought of Elsa’s naked body, with those magnificent breasts and great ass, laying in my sleeping bag stirred my loins again.

“Euh… Yeah, I bet.” I stuttered.

Elsa had to smile. We cleaned up the tent and sleeping bag, I usually stored them in the rear storage area of the truck, and we got rid of the garbage we had accumulated over the last 24 hours, including her old flipflops and the cut-off t-shirt. Elsa put her stuff in the cabin of the truck. I had intended to run a laundry at the truck stop, but completely forgot about it. I figured I would get time later; breakfast was more important.

“Let’s go.” I said.

Elsa got into the passenger seat and buckled the seatbelt. After getting in my seat and buckling up, I started the truck. The heavy MP8HE-445 engine rumbled to life. The cab was well insulated and even running at highway speed the engine noise was low. I pushed the gas pedal down and the automatic mDrive transmission got the truck rolling.

“Any special wishes for breakfast?” I asked Elsa.

She had been sitting in the passenger seat, looking at me driving the truck.

“Pancakes.” She said, seeing a sign along the road for a pancake house.

I stopped at the advertised pancake house, as it was just down the road, and we had a great breakfast. I am not really a pancake person, but Elsa was as she ate a lot of them. I warned her about the fact that we would be travelling later today, and I had no intention stopping at every truck stop because she needed a bathroom.

“That is fine, I’ll go to the bathroom whenever you let me out.” She said.

I almost spilled my orange juice and had to cough to recover.

“Okay.” I said, sounding a bit uncertain.

She gave me one of her great smiles and I forgot that I still had my orange juice in my hand, until she pointed it out. I put the glass down before I spilled more of it.

“What did you study at the university?” I asked, trying to redirect the conversation.

“Energy Physics.” She replied.

“Energy Physics?” I asked her, having no idea what that meant.

“The study of energy conversion processes on the basis of their physics, like fluid mechanics, thermodynamics, electromagnetism and nuclear physics.” She replied, almost sounding like a brochure for the university.

“Wow.” Was all I could say.

I was not a dumb guy; my parents had trained me in many subjects, but that was a little over my head.

“I studied how to transport energy.” She explained.

It was still mostly beyond me, but that was fine to me. We talked a while longer, before paying the bills, she insisted to pay for her own meal, and heading back to the truck. She had bought some sweets for in the truck and I told her I was trying to stay fit, so she was probably the one eating them.

“If you let me.” She smiled.

It was past 11 and my pickup was not till 2 PM, but had about an hour’s drive to get to the CP yard and I knew that it could be busy, so we decided to head to the general area of the pickup. After we climbed in, I told Elsa to not buckle in yet. She looked at me, giving me that smile again when she noticed I had picked up one of the ropes we used yesterday.

“Turn around.” I told her.

I looked around the pancake house parking lot, but nobody was close to us, and I crossed her wrists behind her back and wrapped the rope around them, first horizontally, then vertically, not overly tight, but definitely not loose enough for her to get out. After tying the knot, out of reach of her fingers, I told her to sit in the seat normally and I buckled the seat belt, her tied arms now between her body and the seat. The reason I tied her wrists crossed was that it allowed her upper arms to still be on the side of her body.

“Meanie.” She said, smiling and relaxing in her seat.

I knew other truck drivers could see her, but unless you got a close look, it was hard to see she was holding her hands behind her back. I wrapped another one of the shorter ropes around her ankles. The crocs were discarded next to her seat, which I did not mind. Her breathing changed when I stroked her bare legs while tying her ankles.

“That should be enough for a while. It is not that a truck allows for unlimited bondage positions.”

At that moment, a phone started ringing in her backpack. I suddenly realized I had not seen her with a phone yet and I did not even know she had one.

“Want me to answer that?” I asked her.

She shook her head.

“Just show me who it is.” She told me.

The phone was in a side pocket of the backpack. I got it out, it was a Motorola G7+, and showed her the display. It said “Mormor’.

“My grandmother.” She said. “Can you hold the phone to my ear and answer the call?”

Her face had lit up when she had seen the name on the display, so I had no problem doing that. Right at that moment the call stopped, it probably had taken too long for me to get the phone out of its hiding place.

“Shall I call her back?” I asked.

“Hold the phone near my hand, so I can unlock it.”

She used her fingers to unlock the phone and I opened the recent call list and selected to call back the last call. When I heard the ringing, I held the phone to Elsa’s ear.

“Hej nan, hur mår du?” Elsa said when the call got answered.

It was a pretty long call, but I did not care. I sat there holding the phone for this stunning woman who I just rendered helpless. The seatbelt ran between her breasts, accentuating them even more than the t-shirt did on its own. Elsa seemed to be content sitting there, her wrists and ankles tied, talking to her grandmother in, based on the country code of the call, Sweden. Not that I knew all county codes in the Europe, but I had been to Sweden once, hence I remembered.

“Okej, jag ska prata med dig snart, ge min kärlek till morfar. Hejdå.”

The call was finished and her grandmother, for some reason ‘Mormor’ sounded much more fun, had already hung up before I got the chance.

“Want me to put it back in the backpack?” I asked and Elsa just nodded.

She seemed happy.

“All’s well in Sweden?”

“Yep, my grandmother just called to tell me I became an aunt again. A boy named Axel.”

“Congratulations.” I said.

Somehow picturing Elsa as an aunt made her look a little older and took some of that youthfulness away that she exuded. It made her look even prettier than before.

“We’ll better get going. If you need anything, let me know, I can stop at a Target or Walmart if you want.” I told her while starting the engine.

“You mean you are going to release me if I want to go shopping? You are not really a bad kidnapper, are you?” She grinned.

I laughed, while steering the truck towards the I-294, or the Tri-state Tollway. Traffic was busy and we did not travel far before we got stuck in a traffic jam. I could see red and blue flashing lights ahead of us and traffic flowing behind it, so we just sat it out. I sat idle in the second lane, out of the four lanes available, and a trucker in right lane honked his horn and gave me a thumbs up when he saw Elsa sitting in the passenger seat.

“You think he saw I was tied?” She asked.

It seemed to excite her, as her nipples tried to poke through the t-shirt again.

“Not likely, he probably just wanted to tell me he liked my truck.” I said, teasing her.

Elsa turned towards me as much as the seatbelt allowed, which meant her bound hands were towards the driver next to us. She waved with her bound hands, turned towards the driver and smiled. His eyes had gone wide and after a moment he looked at me and gave me a thumbs up again. I smiled back, tipping my imaginary hat.

“Tease.” I said to Elsa.

“Who? Me?” She laughed.

“What if he calls the police and reports us?” I asked her, being half serious.

“Well, I am being kidnapped.”

Traffic slowly creeped towards what turned out to be a minor collision between three cars. The accident had blocked three out of four lanes, so traffic was slow because it needed to merge into the only lane left open. As usual, the passenger cars did not take in account that a truck is a little bigger and needs more space, so I got cut off a few times, but we made it past the accident and could speed up again.

“That is Chicago O’Hare International Airport. One of the busiest in the country.” I told Elsa when we got close.

We passed the airport and got of I-294 at the I-190 intersection, turned onto US-45 and followed it till we crossed the CP railway tracks. We left US-45 and doubled back to the tracks. Due to the accident we had lost some time and it was close to my pickup time. Unfortunately, that meant I had to untie Elsa. She would be allowed on the pickup yard at CP Bensenville Intermodal, but I could not risk that somebody would see her tied up. I stopped along the road and told her to turn her back to me.

“I can’t have anybody see you tied up.” I told her.

She nodded and allowed me to untie her. Rope marks were visible again on her wrists, as I had tied her snug, but they would disappear soon.

“You can do your legs yourself.” I told her.

While she untied her legs and stashed the ropes, I drove up the gate 4 of the yard. The guard gave me my loading papers and told me where to find the trailer I needed. According to the paperwork it was going to be a heavy one, almost 44,000 lbs, which was very close to the limit. Luckily, it was a three-axle trailer, so the weight was allowed.

“The trailer is on E65.” I told Elsa, so she could help look for it.

Following the signs for the E area was easy enough and we found E65 fast, but there was another truck loading at E64, so we had to wait a little before we could hook up. I got out of the truck, inspected the trailer with its bright orange Hapag-Lloyd 40’ container. The guy on E64 was done and pulled away and I walked back to my truck and hooked the fifth wheel up to the trailer.

“I’ll hook up the lines. Get in my seat, so we can test the lights.” I told Elsa.

I showed her the light switches and opened the window, before getting out. Hooking up the lines was easy enough, I double checked the container number, and tested the lights with help from Elsa.

“Everything is working.” I said, opening the driver door.

Elsa scooted over back to the passenger seat. I got in the driver’s seat and we headed for the exit. The guard at the exit took the paperwork from me, checked the trailer and container number and waved that I was good to go.

“Chattanooga, here we come.” I said when we left the CP yard. “But first let’s see if we can find a spot to restrain you, I can’t have dangerous Swedish women running around my cabin.”

“Women?” She replied, pointing out I had used plural version of the word.

“Okay, one is dangerous enough.”

She smiled at me and held her arms behind her back.

“Ready when you are.” She said.
Thanks for reading. Feel free to comment.
Slackywacky aka FH.

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Beaumains
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Post by Beaumains »

Great as always, and a nice attention to detail. The Swedish and trucker language make this feel pretty realistic. You did your research!

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slackywacky
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Post by slackywacky »

Beaumains wrote:
3 months ago
Great as always, and a nice attention to detail. The Swedish and trucker language make this feel pretty realistic. You did your research!
The trucker language is not that hard, I have driven trucks in my days, and still do in the simulator, and google translate is pretty good at converting English to Swedish, although I can read Swedish (and Danish and Norwegian) speaking it is another matter.
Thanks for reading. Feel free to comment.
Slackywacky aka FH.

My active stories: Story catalog: All my stories

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Gagfan
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Post by Gagfan »

Very enjoyable story so far! When it comes to fiction I tend to trend towards the less happy stuff but Im enjoying seeing these two's playful banter as she explores her pervy side
Big fan of over the top bondage

For my stories I havent gotten around to posting here: https://www.deviantart.com/gagfan

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Post by Caesar73 »

I like the setting of this story. The Highway Scenario is refreshing - and the conversations are very good.

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Post by OldTUGger »

Well done story; good pacing, good characters, and fun! A pleasure to read!
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Post by RopingRingers »

I may have to invest in my truck tickets 😂
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Bandit666
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Post by Bandit666 »

Brilliant second and third part, already eager for parts 4, 5 and well you get the point :)

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Post by lochness »

An excellent story so far. Also, your attention to detail is excellent. Thumbs way up! 👍

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