The stale smell of the truck's interior filled your nostrils as you sat up, the grogginess slowly dissipating. Panic surged through your veins as you realized you were not in your own motel room, but rather inside of a truck. Your mind raced, trying to piece together what had transpired and how you ended up here.
Tugging the rag from your mouth, you coughed and desperately inhaled, grateful for the sudden influx of air. With a quick glance around, you noticed that the truck was parked in a dimly lit, deserted parking lot. The silence was deafening, giving you an uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach. It seemed like a nightmare, except this was all too real.
Instinctively, you knew that your first course of action was to find out who was responsible for your predicament. Your heart pounded in your chest as you cautiously began rummaging through the truck, hoping to find some clue, some indication of the truck's owner.
Frantically, you searched the glove compartment, only to come up empty-handed. Frustration welled up within you, but you refused to let it deter you. Your eyes then fixated on the sleeper section of the truck, tucked away at the back. It felt like a covert operation as you tiptoed toward it, making sure not to alert anyone who might be nearby.
Ensuring the coast was clear, you slipped into the sleeper area, your eyes scanning every nook and cranny for any trace of the truck's owner. The small space was cluttered with personal belongings - old food wrappers, crumpled clothes, and various odds and ends that offered no immediate answers.
"Hey! You need some company?" a woman's voice called out, breaking through the tension-filled silence. Those words brought mixed emotions to the surface. On one hand, the possibility of help and rescue was tantalizingly close. On the other, you were well aware that the man who had taken you was approaching, threatening to minimize any chances of escape.
With a surge of adrenaline, you scrambled to maintain the appearance of an untouched environment. Hastily, you rearranged the items you had moved, ensuring they were back in their original positions. Time seemed to slow down as you raced to make everything look just as it did before.
Your heart pounded in your chest as you darted out of the sleeper's section, careful to keep quiet and unnoticed. Quickly, you shoved the rag, which had previously been used to silence you, back into your mouth to prevent any outcry. Your hands trembled, but you managed to regain control of your emotions, realizing that your best hope was to play the part of a captive.
Returning to your original position on the floor of the truck, you laid there, feigning unconsciousness. The sound of the door handle being jostled sent shivers down your spine. It was time to act convincingly, to fool him into thinking you were still out cold. You put all your efforts into making your appearance as disheveled as possible, further validating your unconscious state.
The cold floor beneath you provided some relief from the intense tension in the small truck cabin. Every muscle in your body felt strained as you held your breath, desperately trying not to reveal the faintest hint of movement.
As the door to the truck swung open, your heart skipped a beat. The sound echoed through your ears, and you quickly silenced your racing thoughts. Your senses heightened, and you strained to catch any cues from the incoming presence.
You could hear the man's sharp intake of breath. The door slammed shut, rattling the truck's interior. With bated breath, you listened to the man as he settled himself in the seat, mere inches away from you.
Time seemed to stretch on forever as you silently willed yourself to remain motionless. The tension in the air was palpable, and you could practically feel the man's gaze burning into your unmoving form. You couldn't afford to make a mistake. With every cell in your body screaming for oxygen, you cautiously allowed yourself to take a slow, controlled breath. It was a delicate dance, balancing the need for air with the necessity of appearing unconscious. You hoped that your breathing would go unnoticed.
Rusty's narrowed eyes never wavered as he observed you intensely. It felt as though he could see straight through your act. The weight of his stare was suffocating, almost as intense as the lack of oxygen you were subjecting yourself to.
The silence in the truck was broken by a sudden eruption of deep laughter. Rusty's amusement filled the tiny space, bouncing off the metal walls and adding another layer of tension to the atmosphere. The sound seemed to mock your efforts to deceive him.
"You can't fool me, darlin'," Rusty's voice cut through the heavy air, dripping with a mixture of amusement and satisfaction. "I know you're awake."
As his words registered in your mind, you couldn't help but flinch involuntarily. The façade finally shattered, and you slowly opened your eyes, meeting Rusty Nail's piercing gaze.
A smile played at his lips, a mixture of triumph and admiration evident in his eyes. "You put up quite a show," he remarked, his voice laced with a hint of admiration. "But don't underestimate my ability to read people. We have a long journey ahead of us, and I expect you to be more cooperative."
As he gazed down at you, your heart skipped a beat as you struggled to find the right words to speak. your mouth was still filled with the rag, and you could barely form coherent sentences. Rusty tilted his head to the side, studying you with a mixture of curiosity and amusement.
you tried to ask a question, but all that came out was a muffled sound. Rusty's lips curled into a smirk as he realized that you had questions. He had kidnapped you, after all, and it was only fair that he answered your questions.As he reached down to pull you up onto his lap, you felt a mix of fear and arousal.
As Rusty raised his finger, his piercing gaze locked onto your's. His voice was low and menacing as he uttered, "One you bite me just know I bite back and I bite harder…" Your heart skipped a beat as Rusty's hand found its way around your neck, squeezing firmly.
Rusty paused, his eyes never leaving yours. "I wouldn't mind taking a bite out of you," he growled, his voice sending shivers down your spine. He raised another finger, his eyes never leaving your eyes. "Two," he said, another finger raised as he said "you scream and I'll wrap my hand around your delicate neck and snap it."
Your eyes widened in terror as Rusty's grip on your throat tightened. You could feel Your vision starting to blur as you struggled to breathe.
"Three," Rusty said, his voice low and dangerous. "You only get to ask three questions try and make them count." He pulled the rag out of your mouth and held you still as you struggled to move off his lap. His grin was wicked as he said, "Now sweetheart? I didn't say you could move you got something you want to say to me?" You could only nod, too afraid to speak. "Ask your questions."
As you remained still on Rusty Nail's lap, you could feel his steady heartbeat underneath you. It took a moment before you caught your breath. Surprisingly, Rusty seemed patient, his fingers lightly tracing patterns on your back as he waited for you to collect yourself.
As you tried to steady your breathing, your mind raced with the countless questions you could ask. But you knew you had to choose wisely, as Rusty had made it clear that he would only answer three questions. If your questions were good enough, he might even allow you to ask more, but it was a big if. You glanced up at him, meeting his intense gaze, wondering which questions would pique his interest.
Feeling his eyes lowering, you followed his gaze and noticed his attention locked onto your chest, observing the rise and fall with each breath you took. It was a curious moment, his focus shifting from your face to a more intimate part of your body. You blushed slightly, suddenly aware of how close the two of you were.
Finally, after gathering your thoughts, you found your voice and asked, "Who… who are you?" Your voice came out as a whisper, unsure of what response you would receive.
Rusty leaned back slightly, a smirk playing on his lips as he looked down at you. "That's a good question, sweetheart," he replied, his voice filled with an enigmatic charm.
"You can call me Rusty Nail," he repeated, his voice softer this time, almost like a warning laced with an underlying charm. "Rusty Nail…I'll remember that."
"Good," he said, his voice low and husky. "Because I'm not one to repeat myself."
Your heart raced as you desperately tried to gather your thoughts amidst the confusion and fear. Rusty stared back at you with cold indifference. His intense gaze made your head spin, clouding your thoughts even further.
As you tried to come to grips with the situation, the tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision. The emotions running through your body threatened to overwhelm you, but you fought to maintain some semblance of composure. You couldn't let Rusty see how terrified you truly were.
But a certain defiance fueled by anger and confusion started to emerge within you. With a trembling voice, you managed to choke out, "What do you want from me? Why did you kidnap me? What did I do to you?"
Rusty remained silent for a moment, still fixated on your face. Then, he slowly raised three fingers in front of you, his gravelly voice breaking the silence. "One question each. Tap on a finger of mine and choose which one of those questions you want answered, and I will answer."
You hesitated for a moment, unsure of what approach to take. Each question burned in your mind, demanding an explanation. Slowly, your trembling hand reached out as you tapped on one of Rusty's fingers. It was a bet on which question held the most weight, a gamble to uncover some truth amidst this chaos.
Rusty watched as your finger made contact with his, a faint smirk on his lips. His eyes bore into yours as he prepared to provide some semblance of an answer. But his silence was unnerving, amplifying the tense atmosphere in the room. Seconds turned into eternity as you impatiently waited for a response.
Finally, Rusty's gravelly voice broke through the air, piercing the suffocating silence. "You want to know why I kidnapped you," he said, his tone laden with intrigue.
Rusty Nail's hands tightened around your hips as he pulled you closer to him on his lap. His voice was low and husky as he spoke, "You see, I was on my way home. I was tired… was planning on hibernating like a bear when I got a call on the radio from a girl saying that she was looking for some company. I was bored, so I answered the call. Figured I would maybe meet up with a girl, have a great time, but well… when I got to the motel she gave me, wouldn't you know it, Darlin'?"
Your eyes widened in shock as Rusty's words sunk in. you tried to pull away from him, but he held you tightly. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you whispered, "Know what? He smirked as he said well… when I got there, I overheard pretty boy and his friends laughing as they gloated about pranking me. They didn't even see me standing there. I assumed that the girl's voice was yours, but now that I'm listening to the real thing… not even close, so I'm going to teach your friends a little lesson you know?"
Your heart pounded in your chest as Rusty continued, "If they follow through with everything I say, then you can go back to them. But… if they don't follow through, I might just have to kill you."
Your eyes closed tightly as she sobbed uncontrollably. "Please," you begged, "I didn't do anything!"
The sound of laughter filled the air as Rusty couldn't help but chuckle at the sight before him. His mischievous grin widened as he teasingly said, "Oh, you did something you were with your friends in the first place" His voice dripped with amusement, as if he had expected nothing less from you.
As his words hung in the air, a sudden surge of adrenaline coursed through your veins. Instinctively, you lashed out, connecting your fist with Rusty's jaw. Realizing that you needed to escape from the truck, you swiftly turned and made your way towards the passenger door. Panic washed over you as you desperately tried to open it, only to find it locked. Frustration mingled with fear, knowing your escape was thwarted.
Rusty shook his head, his gaze fixed on you. He couldn't help but be intrigued by your audacity. Despite the punch you had just delivered, his amusement had not wavered. With a slight smirk, he reached over and swiftly grabbed the back of your hair, his grip firm yet controlled. Pulling you back towards him, he effortlessly guided you back onto his lap. "Feisty, huh? I like that," he remarked
His voice took on a playful tone as he commented, "now that was stupid, wasn't it?" The corners of his mouth curled into a mischievous smile as he leaned in closer, his breath grazing your ear. There was an undeniable edge in his voice, a mix of danger and excitement that sent chills down your spine.
As Rusty's breath caressed your ear, his voice was low and commanding, sending shivers down your spine. "You have one minute to get on the floor and lay down," he whispered, his eyes locked onto your eyes. "And don't speak a word. Or I'll bend you over my fucking knee and train you properly."
Your heart raced as you hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to do. But the look in Rusty's eyes left no room for negotiation. You slowly lowered yourself to the ground, feeling the cool hardwood against Your skin.
"Good girl," he murmured, his voice softening slightly. "Now, stay still and quiet."
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