Chapter 1

It was my lucky day; hell it was my lucky week. I'd just delivered a load of bulldozer teeth to a warehouse on Garfield and was heading to a big bakery in Ontario to pick up four pallets of frozen pizza dough for Tampa.

The dough was a production sample for a customer to try. I didn't give a shit about that; it was the good pay rate per mile and the long four-day delivery time I liked. Things just seemed to be going my way for the past ten days and I was happy to have some good luck for a change.

I'm a truck driver, an Owner Operator. That's a guy who's been stupid enough to buy his own truck and now he can't quit over taking a fucking from some broker, shipper or receiver. I was in better shape than most owner operators though.

I'd been driving a truck, over the road, since I was twenty-five. Now I'm forty-eight, and several million miles down the road, down all the roads. I started this life with a nationally known forty-eight state irregular route carrier when they invited me to take a drive in the country. I didn't know at the time that they meant the whole country.

Now I own my truck, not me and the bank, just me. Twenty-three years of running my ass off and eating baloney and beans, and I'd saved enough to pay up front for a new Peterbuilt, a Utility Ultra Light trailer, and a Carrier Reefer (refrigeration unit) for the trailer, of course I don't have much of a home, but what the hell, I'm never there.

I got the dough loaded and did what most people should. I got out of L. A.

Four hours later I eased off I-10, and after fueling, I parked on party row at Rip-Off Griffin's in Tonopah, AZ. I got my shower bag and a change of clothes and went inside.

In the restaurant, after my shower, I looked around for a waitress and spied a wet dream on foot instead. She was about five-six or seven, a redhead, unbelievable titties, and a face that belonged on an actress or model.

Tight jeans, lizard skin cowboy boots, and an overloaded halter-top that asked for attention instead of covering her up. She had something else you don't often see on a redhead, a tan. She was the best looking and best built woman I'd ever seen in real life.

She was standing near the resturant's entrance, scanning around the place as if she was looking for someone. I was staring, probably with my mouth hanging open and watering, and I couldn't help it. Looking my way, she caught me at it. What the hell, she was surely used to it, and it wasn't like this was going to mess up my chances with her, because I knew I didn't have any.

On first glance, and usually for the first few times I'm around a woman, they instinctively dislike me. I have no idea why, but it's always been that way. After a while I usually grow on the ones I pursue, but a one time, hit it off right away deal is just not in my cards.

They say you need to make a good first impression but I've never been able to get it done. I have to take it slow and patient to get anywhere with women. So I just kept on staring, at least I managed to close my mouth.

She looked right at me for a couple of seconds and then smiled really big and headed my way. She had a beautiful smile too, but I didn't have the foggiest idea why she seemed to be heading toward me. I knew damned well I didn't know her and I was pretty sure she didn't know me, but she came right up to my booth.

"Mind if I sit down?" she asked.

"It'd be my pleasure."

She was really something. I couldn't believe how firm and round her titties looked, and they'd jiggled like they might be the real deal and not add-ins.

"My name's Sarah," she said.

"Nice to meet you Sarah; I'm Bill."

She was twenty to twenty-five. I was still really stunned and trying desperately to think of some way to start a conversation that would just dazzle her, no luck though.

"You're a truck driver aren't you?" she asked.

"Sure am."

I thought, beautiful, but no rocket scientist. Blue jeans and a T-shirt, cowboy boots, a belt with a big buckle and my name in white letters on the back, a Cat Power cap, and sitting in the big middle of a big truck stop with my left arm twice as darkly tanned as my right. What else could I be?

"Which way are you going?" she asked.

"Tampa."

"Can I ride with you?" she asked.

Shit, this couldn't be real; it had to be Candid Camera, Funniest Videos or Stupid Truck Driver Tricks or something. Do you have any idea how many times a truck driver with a hardon wishes he could spy a gal hitching that looked even half decent in the dark? Twenty-five years of herding a truck and I'd only picked up four hitchers worth fucking. Here's the best-looking woman I've ever seen asking me for a ride.

In the first place, she had diamond ear studs that were more than a carat each and a wristwatch with a diamond band. What could she possibly want with a ride in a truck? My curiosity must have been apparent.

"I've loved to watch trucks since I was a little girl and I finally decided I wanted to hitch a ride on one. I'm not broke or anything, I just want to ride around in a truck and see what it's like. I've been here three hours, and you're the first truck driver I've seen who looked trustworthy. So how about it?" she asked.

It sounded stupid to me but what the hell; I got to ride in a truck every day whether I wanted to or not. I sure as hell wasn't going to tell her no.

"Sure, I'd love the company. It gets lonesome on the road some times," I said.

I figured if she were dim enough to want a truck ride when she didn't need one, she would probably eat that kind of talk up. She smiled again and it was still a beautiful smile.

We ordered burgers and fries and ate when they came. I paid up and we headed out while I politely reminded her that big trucks didn't have rest rooms inside and that we should both powder our noses before we went to my rig.

We talked a little, while walking to my truck, and luckily she didn't seem as stupid as I'd first thought. I was even convincing myself that maybe a big truck could get to be a fascination for someone who never had the chance to ride in one. She didn't bat an eye when I explained that I had been up since three AM, it was about seven thirty PM now, and that I was going to have to take about a four-hour nap before I left.

"Oh, this is so sudden, just teasing. You must be tired and I missed my own siesta since it's such a long ride out from Phoenix. I've just been walking around in there for hours until I found you. I'm a little tired myself. Do you have one of those cute little campers on your truck?" she asked.

"Sure do."

She had to be putting me on. Anyway, we got to my truck and she ooed and ahed and then asked where she was going to store her bag. I told her there was plenty of room, opened the door and helped her up, then I got in. The curtain was rolled up so she walked on into the sleeper.

"I had no idea it would be so roomy," she said

"I've always liked to have plenty of room; I live in this thing about three hundred days a year. It won't seem nearly so big after a day or so."

"Do you mind if I change before our nap?" she asked.

"Go right ahead, I'll sit out front and catch up my log. Just whistle when you're settled in," I replied.

I showed her how to let down the curtain and then I sat behind the wheel. I was still dumfounded by the circumstances. The odds of this happening had to be higher than winning the Texas Lottery. After about ten minutes she called.

"All set."

I pushed the curtain aside and walked into the sleeper. My dick pressure shot past the warning limit when I saw her.

She was sitting with her legs under her, her gorgeous ass on her heels, in a see thru baby doll nightie with no panties. It was so thin I could see that her bush was nearly the same dark red as her hair. Her titties defied gravity and no words can express how good they looked. Her mode of undress and come-hither grin erased all questions I'd been having. My dick was way past hard and well into painful; it seemed to throb.

"I've got another little surprise for you," she said, seductively.

"What on earth could possibly be more surprising?" I asked.

I just had to ask, didn't I? She pulled the surprise from behind her and pointed it right at me. It was a Browning High Power. That nine-millimeter hole in the business end looked about a yard across from my vantage.

I wasn't two feet from her and there was no way in hell she could miss. Even if she did miss a couple of times, it was a thirteen shot automatic for fuck's sake. I was wondering hard just what it was she wanted.

I covered the distance to the bunk with half a stride and backhanded the shit out of her with my right hand and then, clamping my left onto the wrist of her gun hand, I squeezed like shit. She dropped the Browning, her mouth was bleeding and tears were streaming. She was whimpering a little as I picked up the pistol.

"Dumb ass, this isn't a double action, you have to cock the hammer for the first shot, like this," I told her, as I used my thumb to ear back the hammer.

I put the muzzle to her forehead and asked her if she would like to be able to live another ten or fifteen minutes. She really broke out blubbering at this so I backhanded her again, with my left hand this time, but not as hard as the first one. I just wanted to make sure I had her attention; I did.

"You've got about thirty seconds to get your head out of your ass and tell me what this little game is all about if you don't want your brains to make a big fucking mess on the back wall of my sleeper."

"Victor made me do it; I didn't want to but he made me. I've been practicing for two weeks to do this; he planned it all out. We came to steal a truck and he liked yours, so he sent me in to get your attention and trap you. Now that I've messed it up, he's going to kill us both," she said, still crying.

From her sob story I assumed that he was going to kill me all along, and that he was probably somewhere in the lot, waiting for a signal to come on over.

"Who is Victor? Where is he right now and what does he want with my truck?"

"I live with Victor, he's kind of like my boyfriend but he hasn't been real friendly for the last couple of years. He deals cocaine and grass and he wants your truck to go get some. I think he's done this before, but this is the first time I've had to help," she said.

"Where is he right now?"

"He's in the car, in the restaurant parking lot. I'm supposed to call him on the CB when I've got you handcuffed. He told me to put handcuffs on you and those leg things too."

"Is he by himself?" I asked.

"Yes."

Maybe he was and maybe he wasn't but I wouldn't know until I got hold of him. I kept the pistol on her and sat down to try and get this straight in my head.

"Call him, if you make him suspicious I'll kill you for sure, even if I don't get him caught. You'd better make him think that you've got me hogtied or you're going to be dead, soon. Can you work a CB?" I asked.

"Yes. He made me practice over and over. I have to call him on channel ten," she said.

"Give me the cuffs and leg irons first, and then call him," I said.

She fished the jewelry out of her bag and then sat in front to use the CB. When she got off the bunk I did too and raised the mattress to get into the compartment underneath. I took out my box of bondage toys, a roll of duct tape, and my double barrel.

The shotgun was an L. C. Smith that some asshole sawed off to a sixteen-inch barrel. I'd found it in a pawnshop. The idiot that sawed it off had cut several hundred dollars off its value when he did it; but the bad stuff still came out of the right end. I checked the loads, two rounds of number four buckshot, the ideal round for killing humans at close range.

"Victor. Do you copy?"

"Loud and clear, Red."

"Everything's ready for you baby."

That was it. He didn't reply.

"Get back here," I told her.

When she did I cuffed her hands behind her back and put the leg irons on her. I hooked them together behind her and put a ball gag in her mouth. It was big enough so she couldn't get it out without her hands. I set her up in the far corner of the bunk and waited for Victor.

He was pretty stupid for a drug dealer, or maybe he thought I was stupid, or maybe he just trusted Red too much. He didn't even have a gun in his hand when he stuck his head thru the curtain. He had even shut and locked the driver's door behind him; I'd heard him push the lock down. When he got a look at the shotgun's two big smoke holes his eyes got really big.

"Freeze or you're a dead greaser; now, lace your fingers together behind your head, hit your knees and scoot over to the bunk; bend your waist and lay down flat; spread your legs out real wide."

When he was on his knees and moving toward the bed, I put the muzzle over a kidney. When he lay on his face, I latched him with a pair of cuffs that had last been on a really naughty little blonde. I forced his head into the opposite corner of the bunk from Red and hooked the cuffs to one of the hooks the blonde had been much more willing to be attached to.

I didn't have any leg irons of my own so I bound his feet with a heavy-duty plastic tie and I tied a piece of nylon rope to the tie strap and ran it through the hook his handcuffs were fastened to. I hauled on the rope until his feet were up by his head, then I tied him off tight.

"Hey mother fucker, what you think you doing? You ain't got shit on me; I just got in the wrong truck. The cops won't even hold me an hour for this," Victor yelled, after I had him tied.

I gave Victor a fairly solid butt stroke to the forehead with the shotgun and it knocked him out. While he was dreaming, I stuffed a pair of dirty white cotton socks in his mouth then I put a couple of strips of duct tape across it. I was glad he had a clean shave; it made the duct tape stick that much better.

He came around in three or four minutes. When he noticed his new predicament his eyes got even wider. He made a few grunts but when I raised the shotgun butt again, he got real still and quiet.

"You know, Victor, you were right about one thing, you sure as hell got in the wrong truck. You don't have to worry about the cops though, because there ain't going to be any cops."

I reached down into my toy box and picked up a short pair of hemostats and then I clamped his nose shut tight with them. He tried really hard to suck in a breath after that but when he realized there was no way, he started jerking and bucking. He was a dumb ass since that only used up his last oxygen all the faster. He passed out in less than three minutes.

I took him loose and rolled him onto the floor before he died, just in case he shit and pissed himself when he did. Sure enough, I had to get a can of Lysol spray and soak him good with it to try and hold down the smell. He was going to be lying there until about three AM and it was only just five after nine.

I checked Red's cuffs and then idled the truck up to about 1200 rpm. Getting out, I took the reefer off automatic and switched it to high, so it would keep wailing. Then I walked back to the restaurant for a couple of cups of coffee.

Red wasn't going anywhere and with that gag in her mouth there was no way she could make enough noise to be heard above the fast idling Cat or that reefer that was wailing away. Victor couldn't do anything but stink.

I'm not a real introspective guy; I try to take life at face value. I won an all expense paid vacation to South East Asia just after I graduated from high school. I wasn't really interested in a fast trip so I signed up for every kind of special training I could get.

This kept me in the states about a year longer than normal, but it set me up to be in the middle of some of the nastiest shit in Vietnam when I did get there. Victor wasn't even a significant figure in the number of people I'd had to permanently adjust.

The woman was a different thing and I was hoping that she wouldn't do anything stupid. I was actually thinking about keeping her. She didn't have any choice in the matter; I'd either keep her or kill her. There'd be no discussion and no time for begging.

I was going to try out her body and if she were good I'd keep her, but if she were no better than a pretty hole to stick it in she was going to be in the same shape as Victor. I finished my second cup of coffee and went back to my truck.

Checking on Victor, he was still dead. Red was still scared shitless. After putting the shotgun and pistol back under the bunk, I searched the late Victor.

He had a High Power too, and he also had ninety-six one-hundred-dollar bills, a little change, a really nice Rolex, two diamond rings, an emerald ring, and a diamond ear stud that was at least two carats. I put it all in my toy box and put that back under the bunk too.

I looked Red over really good again.

"I'm going to take the gag out for a while now but if you make any loud noises I'm going to put it right back in, and then I'll make you wish you'd been quiet. As a matter of fact, you'll be better off if you don't say anything unless I ask you to," I said.

She nodded her acceptance and I removed it. I tumped her onto her face, on the bunk, and took off the cuffs and leg irons.

"Sit up, rub your wrist and ankles if you want to, stretch your arms and legs."

She did and I sat down and kicked off my boots, took off my shirt, my pants, my sox and my boxers. I had about half a hardon and I turned toward Red and grabbed her nightie at the neck, ripping it off her. She recoiled but didn't make a peep as I pulled her closer and then pushed her, face down, onto the bunk with her head all the way to one end. Her ass was magnificent and I gave it a hard slap; she winced. I liked that so I gave her some more.

When her butt was nice and red, I spread her legs and reached between them to play with her pussy. She was dry, so I started working on her with one hand while I lay down on her back and started kissing and nibbling around on her neck.

As I played with her she started to get wet, so I kept it up. I put the tip of my finger just inside her pussy lips and rubbed it up and down, getting it slick. Sliding it up to her clit, I could tell that it was starting to peek out, so I wiggled it around a little. I moved the finger back to her pussy and the juice was coming a little better now, so I worked it up into her.