You were all dolled up, expecting a fun night out with the girls - a brand new club, newest hot spot in town, they said. So out you all drove to where they said it was, but there were no lights, no queues. Just four tough rancher looking types hanging about that descended on the car as soon as you pulled up.
But your friends got out, seemingly unconcerned, still bubbling about how good it was going to be. "Hey guys! This is gonna be excellent! Are you excited?" The ranchers nodded, and your friends started gesturing towards you.
"This is her - your favourite secret tumblr whore, in the flesh." Your eyes widened in panic - how could they know?! - but the ranchers were all over you immediately. A penis gag was forced into your mouth and your arms and legs were quickly bound together with a soft rope - you didn't even get a scream off.
Your "friends" faced you down. "Well, guess the depraved little slut is in her element now, isn't she? We hope you actually enjoy being the free use whore you claim to be - you won't get a chance to be a stain on our reputations anymore," they spat at you before getting into the car and driving away. You scream as hard as you can into the gag, but all that escapes is barely a muffle.
The ranchers take you firmly by the arms and lift you into the tray of the pickup parked just down the road. One of them pulls a knife from behind his back - intellectually you know it's just a camping knife, but the terror makes it look as large as Croc Dundee's.
"Now," the leader drawled at you. "We read that blog much as those bitches did, so we thinks you're gonna 'njoy this as much as we will. But just in case we're wrong..." he taps the flat of the knife gently against you shoulder and you shudder gently. "Well, let's just hope we're not."
At that, the other three grasp you tightly, and you have a moment to realise what happens next your clothes are cut away; the tattered remains of the promise of a fun night out. The coldness of the knife mixing with the fear creating goosebumps across your body in the night breeze. The appreciative noises the ranchers made were some small comfort.
"Now, in you get girl." The leader gestures to a cage hard up against the cab, and with some helping hands that did far more wandering than helping, you manage to squeeze in. Feeling thoroughly manhandled you make yourself as small as possible inside the cage, trying to cover yourself as much as possible. The slender bars digging into your knees and sides, unable to protect yourself with your arms and legs bound. The leader hops in the cab and starts it running, the other three jump in the back with you.
It was only a short drive before you stopped at a motel, and pulled up right next the door. The ranchers get you out of the cage and carry you swiftly into the room before anyone sees. The room is standard motel, but with a raised long bench stretching the length of the available space.
"Well there missy, I reckon you c'n figure out just what's gonna happen here. Now we're gonna take this gag out of you, and you're gonna stay quiet, coz there ain't no-one staying out here tonight anyway, so you may as well play nice."
He removes the gag, and as soon you've got enough air, you breathe in to take a mighty scream - and he has hold of your neck, squeezing tightly on the artery, and immediately you start to feel light headed. He moves into your eye line to make eye contact before releasing pressure on the artery so you can breathe, but remaining in complete control. "Now I said, you play nice." You take a couple of panicked breaths which he must have interpreted as defiance, as he squeezes again and you feel that familiar light headed feeling. He holds slightly longer this time, and you lose the ability to think, and oh god, no, don't enjoy this!
He releases again, and you take shallow breaths as fast as you can. He stares you down but obviously must feel satisfied you won't try again, because he kneels and undoes the bindings on your legs. You're led to the bench and bent over, legs tied to the supports. The bench is adjusted so your ass is just slightly upturned, and the bindings on your arms are looped to encompass the bench. You pull against them futilely - you're not going anywhere.
The leader approaches, cock first, brandishing the knife. "I'm just gonna leave this as a reminder." He says as he works the hilt of the knife under the bindings, so you can feel the flat of the blade along your back.
"You want this to happen though, don't you?" he looks down questioningly at you. "Oh come on - I could smell that arousal from inside the truck when we was on the way over. You might as well admit it."
You lower your head in shame, and he walks around behind you, reaching his fingers easily into your traitorously slick wetness.
You let out an involuntary moan as he coats his fingers with your juices and he walks back around to your head, and proffers the glistening fingers to your mouth. You look up at him, pleading - but there's no give, so you take them into your mouth, and suck your own arousal off him.
