Editor's note: this story contains scenes of non-consensual or reluctant sex.
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Part Three: Truck Stop Diner
"Put your shirt and shoes back on. Bring your bag. We're gonna' get something to eat."
"Okay" I respond softly, still waking up a little.
He drives into a truck stop and pulls around to the back. Hmm. Interesting. I thought this area was only for the semis. Oh, well. I get myself put together enough to go inside. I throw my little bag over my shoulder and hop down out of the vehicle.
We walk into the truck stop diner and seat ourselves at a quiet booth.
"Go ahead and get washed up. I'll order you something to eat."
"Yes, Sir" I grab my bag and make my way to the ladies room. Oh cool, this is actually like a locker room. That is convenient. I look at my reflection. I'm looking a little rough. I guess my afternoon adventure took a little more out of me than I realized. My shiny red collar grabs my attention. Shit! Was I supposed to take it off or leave it on? I can't remember. I turn it around so SLUT is hidden by my hair. I quickly try to get cleaned up enough to go eat and pull on a clean set of clothes.
I check my reflection and, satisfied that this is as good as it is going to get for now, I head back to the table. He isn't there. Hmm, maybe He's in the restroom, I don't know. I drop my bag on the bench and slide into the booth. I sip on the coffee He ordered for me. I smile over my cup, replaying the day in my mind. I look up and see Him approaching. I smile. He scowls. What the hell? He comes over to me and bends over me. He leans down so His mouth is right by my ear and grabs my collar in His hand. He jerks it and twists it around so SLUT is back in the front, shiny and bright. "You are my slut and everyone should know it."
I'm a little surprised just because He doesn't usually have me wear my collars in public. Actually, I'm really surprised, he is usually the one getting on me about being more discreet. Plus, we are at a truck stop. It's not like it's somewhere cool or anything.
It's a quiet little restaurant with a few men, each sitting alone. One man in dark blue coveralls is filling out some kind of notebook, flipping back and forth between two pages. Another man is wearing a yellow and black reflective jacket and reads the paper. A bite of mashed potatoes and corn falls off his fork onto the newspaper and I smile a little as he picks it up and puts it in his mouth. There is one more guy who is doing something on his phone while the server askes him a question about his rig. Keno numbers pop up on screens every couple seconds followed by something about playing the Jack. No idea. Probably a lotto thing I guess. I'm kind of bored and a tad immature though and play the "Who Would You Do?" game in my head and decide that guy's imaginary name will be Jack.
He sits across from me and I keep my eyes lowered, not sure how to read His mood. He fusses with stuff on His phone while I sip my coffee. I'm pretty sure people are looking at me. I slouch down a little bit, almost trying to hide in the booth. "Sit up Princess " What the hell? He didn't even look up at me. I sit up straight.
Our server brings out our dishes. Oh, good, soup. I thank her as she places the cup in front of me. She sets His plate down and asks if there is anything else right now. "No. Thank you," He tells her. She smiles and starts to leave. Omg. Did she just wink at Him?! She did... and He smiled back at her. I'm sitting right here. I'm sure it's nothing. My imagination must be getting the better of me.
I blow on my soup and start to sip the broth from my spoon. I wish He would say something. I wish He would ask me about earlier. Come on, I want to talk about it. He just eats His meal. Damn. No discussion. No clues. Just soup and coffee at a truck stop. Oh well. I am having a pretty great day. I finish my soup and push the cup and saucer toward the edge of the table.
The quiet little diner gets an injection of energy when two guys walk in and sit at the counter. The server must know them. She serves their drinks before they are even in their seats. They are kind of looking around the diner. I'm a little paranoid that they are judging me about my slut collar. Oh well. I don't know them and I won't ever see them again. The server stands in front of them, half taking their orders and half making small talk. I wonder what trucks they drive. What kinds of stuff are they carrying? Maybe the orange and black trucks? White with green? Independent? I recall a commercial, maybe for Old Dominion, that shows trucks with all different sorts of things in one truck. Maybe they deliver all kinds of stuff. My mind wanders while He eats His meal. He sees me looking at them. "Seeing something that interests you? "
"Oh, no, I was just daydreaming a bit I guess. "
"About them?" He asks.
"Not at all. I was thinking about trucking stuff. " I try to explain.
"Like truckers?" He badgers me a bit playfully.
"No, stuff that gets delivered by trucks." I defend myself.
"Like truckers' cocks?"
I can feel the heat in my cheeks as they instantly blush. There's no way to win the conversation. He's obviously determined to mess with me. "Yes, I'm busted. That's exactly what I was thinking." I sarcastically joke and return to my coffee as He finishes His meal.
"That's what I thought." He teases. Well, I think He's teasing anyway.
He catches the eyes of the two men. He smiles and waves at them
"Hey guys. How's it going?" He asks them, rather loudly but super friendly.
Oh my god I'm so embarrassed.
They respond with the same kind of over the head wave.
Oh no oh no oh no, they are heading over to our table.
He gestures for them to sit and join us.
Oh no oh no oh no I think as I scoot over to make room. My master gestures for me to stand up though.??? I grab my bag and stand up. One of the guys scoots in to where I had just been sitting. Master takes the bag out of my hand and gestures again for me to sit down. As I do, the second guy sits down next to me. What the hell I ask again, well, in my head I do. Why are three of us sitting on one side and one person sitting on the other side?? I can't be the only one that thinks this is weird, right?
They all greet each other almost like they know each other, talking about roads and loads and places they've been. I try to make myself small. I have nothing to contribute to the conversation. I fidget with my collar, feeling nervous. One of the men keeps looking at my collar. There's no way I'm going to take it off or even turn it around. Well at least I know that He will handle it if the guy turns out to be a problem. They continue chatting, I zone out while they are taking about the old days which, if I am hearing them correctly, was like 15 years ago. Apparently there are a lot more regulations now.
I drift off in my thoughts, trying to imagine what the men looked like that I sucked off earlier...wondering what they are doing right now, what they are thinking...I don't know why I care but I hope they are driving down the highway thinking happy thoughts about an awesome day. Actually, I hope they are thinking that they are lucky sons of bitches. Silly, I know.
I'm startled back to reality as the server asks if I want more coffee. I slide my cup toward her for a refill. She's brought drinks over for the two guys. Damn, I'm kind of jammed in here and dude keeps looking at my collar.
"Nice, huh?" Master asks the guy. Good. He's addressing it. He'll put a stop to it.
"Yeah, not bad." The guy replies.
"She's a great slut." He tells him.
My eyes bug out of my head. WHAT?!?!?! WHAT?!?!?! I can't believe what I am hearing!! Yes, yes I am a great slut but that is kind of our business.
"You're pretty lucky man" he tells Him.
"Yeah, lucky" the other guy chimes in, looking at me like I'm a hamburger and he hasn't eaten in days.
"I am pretty lucky. You guys can be too ya know. "