He was watching her from the cab of the truck. Watched her get out of her car, and run into the rest stop bathroom, her tight yoga pants straining around her round ass and her large tits bouncing, braless, under her tank top. Her red hair was pulled into a long braid down her back, and he could imagine twisting it around his hand as he fucked her from behind. He was still imagining this as he jumped out the high cab and went to wait beside the bathroom door.
The night was cold, and he pulled his heavy leather gloves on as he took another look around the empty truck stop. Her car and his semi truck were the only ones parked there, which even at 4 am on a Wednesday was rare. That is what had convinced him this was the perfect time.
He could hear her singing to herself as she washed her hands, a jazzy tune sung in a husky, soft voice. He shoved off the wall, bracing himself, watching the door for her curvy figure to appear. He heard light footsteps, and then she walked out, moving faster than he expected, right past him on the way to her car. Though he had wanted it to be a quiet grab, her speed threw him off and he rushed, grabbing her hair.
She screamed when he grabbed the braid, and he slapped his hand over her mouth, pulling her back against his body and letting go of her braid to wrap his arm over hers.
"Shhhh," he murmured into her ear as she screamed into this hand and struggled. "I don't want to hurt you, but you need to be quiet." He began to pull her towards the truck, but stopped as she continued to struggle, glaring down at the top of her red head. "I told you to STOP!"
His large hand went around her throat. He squeezed until she slumped in his arms, then threw her over his shoulder and walked her to the truck. Once inside, he leaned over the seats to the cot. Normally he would throw her in the flatbed, but it was stuffed with orange juice that he was driving to Oregon. He threw her limp body on the cot and crawled over the seats to reach for the shackles he had hidden on the side of the mattress.
These he secured around her small wrists, then yanked the chains attached to them, making sure they were still attached to the wall of the cab. He repeated this to shackle her ankles. She could move, but barely. Finally, he reached into his toolbox under the passenger seat and rooted around, pulling out a ballgag, which he shoved into her mouth and secured tightly around her pretty head. He leaned back for a minute, staring at his work with satisfaction. Then he left the cab, searching the ground for the car keys she dropped. Once he found them, he used them to open her small Toyota. He leaned in and surveyed the piles of luggage in the back seat, and the cell phone in the passenger seat. He opened the glove box and found the registration and insurance card, shoving them in his pocket. Before he closed the door, he took the bag of cigarettes and energy shots on the floor, and dropped the car keys on the driver's seat. With any luck, some bum would steal the car and the search would be sent in the wrong direction.
Back at his truck, he turned on the overhead light and looked at the insurance card he had taken. Amy Sheridan, it said. From Georgia. He balled it up and threw it on the ground. Pulling a knife out of his pocket, he crawled over the seats and began to carefully cut her clothing off. Even in the dim light of the cab, he saw that her body was perfect. Porcelain skin and round curves. Everything was soft to the touch and firm. She had a small line of pubic hair that he couldn't resist running his fingers over. His cock was throbbing and he wished his could shove it into her soft slit, but he had to leave the scene of the crime now, before another car joined them. So he threw a blanket over her and crawled back to the driver's seat.
As he merged back onto the highway, he saw highlights pull into the rest stop.
