Alison looked around the food court, nervously sipped her coffee, and wondered whether she should go to the loo again. She had arrived far too early for her appointment, and she’d already been twice - once to empty her jittery bladder, and once to unnecessarily titivate her make-up. She glanced at her watch, finding that the allotted time had still not yet arrived. Maybe she could kill some time with another visit…

She jumped violently as her phone buzzed and vibrated at the arrival of a text. She almost sent it skittering off the table as she made a grab for it, raising it and staring at the message.

Your date has arrived! Good luck, and remember to tell us how it’s going!

Her heart beat faster as she looked around for him. She didn’t know it, but she was about to become the first-ever UK-based client of a new and highly controversial app. It was a bizarre mixture of Uber, Tinder, and E-Harmony. It had taken all of her courage and desperation, plus an awful lot of liquor, to make her sign up, and now, here at the South Mimms services on a bright Thursday morning, surrounded by families and noisy kids, she was about to find out whether she was in for the erotic adventure of a lifetime, or was about to be killed and dumped in a layby.

She recognised him immediately from his picture on the website, and liked what she saw. She had had many responses to her entry on the website and, in the end, she had chosen the offer which best suited her needs, rather than the one offering the best price. The man striding towards her, Michael, was ruggedly handsome in a Ross Kemp kind of way, younger than her and, importantly, was a truck driver.

She stood up when he reached the table, but they didn’t greet each other, or say anything at all - she was far too nervous, and he didn’t want to jinx it by saying the wrong thing. Instead, they stood alongside each other and smiled self-consciously as Alison took a photograph and posted it to wild_travel.co.uk . With the initial formalities out of the way, they left the service station and headed for his truck.

He had parked as far away from every other vehicle as he could, so it was quite a trek before they stood in front of the imposing sixteen-wheeler. Alison entered the registration of the truck into the app and, once she had received the confirmation that this was indeed the vehicle he had declared on the site, she allowed him to help her mount the cab and sit in the passenger seat.

Michael climbed in behind the wheel and looked over at the woman beside him. He was already delighted that the photographs she had posted were accurate and up-to-date, congratulating the designers of the site for insisting that every picture must have the person holding a piece of paper clearly showing the website name and current date. It discouraged those time wasters who posted fake pictures or ones showing them as they were in their long-distant youth.

This woman, calling herself ‘Tanya’, was reasonably attractive with a decent figure. He guessed she was in her early thirties, and he wondered if she was married - he didn’t see a ring, but that meant nothing - maybe with kids at home, left for the day with daddy. He dismissed the thought. It didn’t matter, she was here now and, from the way she was battling her nerves, she was actually going to go through with this.

He watched intently as she raised her shaking hand and gripped the zip fastener on her tracksuit top, slowly pulling it down to her waist then, after a moment’s hesitation while she plucked up her courage again, quickly pulled off the top and put it on the seat beside her. She clasped her arms protectively around her body, now topless apart from the black, lacy bra which pushed her large, fleshy breasts into a deep cleavage. Michael stared in wonder at her body, not hard and toned as he had fantasised, but soft and slightly podgy, like the real woman she was.

He gazed at her ample cleavage as she lent forward and took off her trainers and socks, feeling his face flush red and a growing stiffness in his groin when she squirmed out of the skintight track pants she was wearing, revealing suspender belt, stockings, and lacy panties to match her bra. When she had finished undressing, they sat for several minutes, she cowering into the seat and staring intently at the floor, he trying to cover the embarrassing tentpole in his trousers while taking in every aspect of the vision in front of him.

It was the picture she had posted of herself wearing this same lingerie, promising that she would wear it on the ‘date’, that persuaded him to bid so high in the auction which had rapidly ensued. When he had been comprehensively gazumped, he had been bitterly disappointed, but then was amazed to find that she had accepted his offer rather than the eventual highest bidder. He had wondered momentarily about her motivation but, just as with her background, he didn’t really care.

Eventually, he snapped out of his reverie and, with a flourish, pulled back the curtain behind him to reveal the cot-bed he used on his longer trips. The woman jumped nervously, then turned to examine the space, finding a thin, rubber mattress covered by a clean linen sheet. She was thankful to find that it was much cleaner than she had imagined, envisioning crusty sheets covered in pubic hairs. Michael saw the look and thanked the stars that he had remembered to change the bedding that morning.

Alison realised that another turning point was approaching. She had already gone beyond what, when she woke up this morning, she had thought she would manage. She had expected herself to back out at some point well before this, but now she was handing her small canvas bag to the driver and, after taking a deep breath, she clambered onto the bed.

Michael was delighted to see that, just as he had suspected when she entered his cab, she was wearing a thong, leaving her large, fleshy buttocks completely uncovered. In the debate about being a Breast Man or an Ass Man, his answer had always been ‘both’, and now he had both in abundance. Unable to resist, he took a firm grip on the wobbling masses and helped her up onto the bunk. She gave him a sharp look, but she didn’t say anything, or slap his hands away, instead merely continued until she could lie down on her back.

Alison watched with growing excitement, nervousness and trepidation as he reached into her bag and pulled out all the various pieces of rope she had brought. He seemed to have a plan and, having examined the tools he had been provided, he put it into action. She felt the soft but unbreakable cord wrapped around her wrist, which was then tied to the side rail above her head. Her other arm was drawn up on the opposite side and restrained in similar fashion, firmly but comfortably. Her ankles quickly followed suit and she was now helpless, completely at his mercy. That thought filled her with fear, but also turned her on wildly.

He reached into the bag again and took out the gag. It was Alison’s favourite, a full head harness. The black leather was soft and pliable, the whiffle ball left her airways open and was not too large. She had happily worn it for hours at home. Michael fitted it, the straps under her chin, across her cheeks, either side of her nose, and over the top of her head, all buckling neatly and tightly against her skin.

They had now reached the point where there was no turning back. Michael knew that he could rape her if he wanted, but there were several things stopping him from taking such a course. First and foremost, he wasn’t a rapist. He wasn’t even that much into dominating women - he had never done anything like this with any of his girlfriends, or even his wife.

But he did have a fantasy. Travelling around the country, doing his job, picking up and dropping off his loads, interacting with all those people, all blissfully unaware that, right in front of them, behind the curtain, he had a beautiful, naked young woman tied and gagged, available for him to use whenever he wanted.

Okay, she wasn’t naked, she wasn’t classically beautiful or even that young, and he couldn’t use her in the way he wanted, not without breaking his contract and going well beyond what she had agreed to. But that’s why it was still fantasy, even though he actually had a nearly naked woman tied up in the back of his cab.

He wondered briefly what fantasy she was fulfilling at this moment. He would have been surprised and delighted if he had known just how closely it matched his own. Apart from the sex, that is. Alison wasn’t that much into the physical act, she had always found it very unsatisfying. She much preferred foreplay and teasing, either in or out of bondage.

As he looked down on her, writhing sexily in her bonds, testing the efficacy of his rope work and, unable to resist any longer, he groped her breasts frantically. While he was strictly forbidden from stripping her or performing any sexual act on her, she had selected the option to allow him to touch her over her clothes, however much or little she was wearing. He now took full advantage of that option.

At first, Alison was taken by surprise by the roughness of his handling, but she very quickly began to enjoy it, soon squirming underneath his probing fingers as he stroked and pinched all her bulges. He ran his hands over her face, feeling the way her cheeks were cut across by the leather straps, before letting them roam across her body once more, massaging her through her brassiere, and rubbing her through her panties.

Just as she could feel the orgasm building within her, Michael abruptly stood up straight, closed the curtain, and jumped down from the truck. He just had enough time to make it to the nearest bush and open his fly before he completely lost all control of himself and, with a strangled cry, added significantly to the fertility of the soil at his feet.

After cleaning himself up, he climbed back into the cab and checked on Alison. She, having been alarmed by his sudden disappearance, had guessed what had happened, and now the look of fear had been replaced by one of desperate yearning. Michael recognised that need but, with a cruel smile, he declined to satisfy it.

“Time for us to get going,” he said, “I have deliveries to make all-around the M25. I hope you’re ready for this, it’s going to be a long day.” With that, he pulled the curtain across, started the engine, and drove off.

Alison began to calm down as they moved away from their isolated spot, with her safely hidden. But she got a shock when, a few minutes later, the curtain was whipped open again and she lifted her head to see that they were driving along the motorway, surrounded by traffic.

Michael had decided that none of the car drivers or passengers near them would be able to see his ‘prisoner’ due to the height of the cab, and the chances of a lorry driver seeing her as he overtook were very small. So, wishing to increase the perception of risk of discovery, both in his own mind and in that of the woman behind him, he removed the comfort of the barrier hiding her.

For Alison, unable to tell that she was still hidden, a sense of real fear of humiliating exposure gripped her. But after a few minutes, when there were no blaring horns from outraged travellers, that fear transformed into huge arousal at being put in such a precarious position, one that she could do nothing to escape.

As traffic frequently slowed or ground to a complete halt, Alison’s balance between fear and arousal tipped wildly, and Michael was delighted to hear her alternating moans of pleasure and alarm behind him. Whenever he could, he took one hand off the wheel and reached back, running his fingers up the warm, stocking-clad thigh closest to him, occasionally letting his hand drift along the taut suspender and onto the material of her panties.

“My word,” he remarked with a smirk, “it’s getting very wet down here!” Alison moaned louder, pushing her hips up towards those exploring fingers, desperate for him to increase the stimulation. In response, Michael cruelly withdrew the hand, being rewarded with an inarticulate cry of dismay.

A little while later, Alison realised they were leaving the motorway for the first of his drop-offs. She waited for him to pull the curtain across and hide her from prying eyes, but became alarmed as they drove into an increasingly urban environment, with buildings on either side overlooking the lorry as it went by, offering the possibility of a chance sighting by an unsuspecting resident. The pendulum swung once more towards fear of discovery as they approached the security barrier in front of a large warehouse.

Finally, as he pulled into the yard, Michael had to concede and hide the struggling, moaning form from view. But Alison’s fears remained as she heard chatter around her, followed by the noise of the back of the lorry being opened and men unloading its contents, standing only feet from her in the container adjacent to the bed on which she was tied. She didn’t relax until, quarter of an hour later, they pulled away. Now, her mind turned the peril in which she had felt herself to be into, through the magic of hindsight, an incredibly erotic adventure. Her panties, which had just dried out, were quickly soaked in her juices once more.

This game of chicken went on time and again throughout the day, with Michael leaving the bound woman on display as long as he possibly could. He sensed her fear, and could smell her arousal, both of which he found arousing himself, as well as highly amusing.

The light was fading by the time he had made his final call, and he made his way back towards South Mimms services to free Alison. But on a whim, he pulled into a layby just before getting back on the M25. Alison, pretty exhausted by the constant tension and excitement of the day, relaxed behind the curtain before what she assumed was going to be another opportunity for her to be exposed to the travelling public. She hardly noticed when she heard the doors open, but the sound of both the driver’s door and the passenger door slamming shut alerted her to new danger.

“Thanks for giving us a lift!” she heard a male voice say enthusiastically.

“You’re welcome,” Michael replied, “it’s a shame I can’t take you further than the service station.”

“That’s okay,” a second man’s voice piped up, “we should be able to get on from there quite easily.”

Alison heard them chatting away happily, but she didn’t concentrate on the conversation. All she could think about was the fact that these complete strangers were sitting only inches from her, only separated by the thin material of the curtain from a sight which would astonish them. All they needed to do to discover her, half-naked, bound and gagged, was to turn and move the curtain slightly. What would they do if they saw her, she wondered. She drifted off into a fantasy where all three of the men in front had their hands all over her, pulling away her underwear, mauling her breasts, fingering her hot, wet pussy…

As the truck slowed in another traffic jam, Alison was startled, barely able to stop herself crying out, when a hand snaked around the back of the curtain and started to fondle her breast. She realised from the position from which the arm came that it was the driver’s, but the shock of its appearance, and the way in which it roamed across her skin, had her heart pounding again. As the fingers probed between her thighs, she had to fight hard to stop herself cumming, and screaming in ecstasy.

Thankfully, the hand soon withdrew as the road ahead cleared, and the truck sped up. The rest of the journey back to the service station passed without further incident, although Alison couldn’t relax, knowing that she could be discovered, or the fondling could resume, at any moment.

At last, they pulled into the services and she heard the hitchhikers say their farewells. After a short drive to a more isolated spot, the vehicle came to a halt and the curtain opened for the last time. Michael untied his passenger and watched as she ungagged herself and got dressed.

“Well,” he said awkwardly, “thanks for an amazing experience.”

“You too,” Alison replied, giving him an embarrassed smile, “that went so much better than I ever imagined.”

“If you ever feel the need to be tied up and driven around in a truck again,” he ventured, “you know where to find me.” Alison looked him up and down, noticing that he was still rock-hard, which gave her a very satisfying ego boost.

“Thanks,” she said noncommittally, before turning and walking back towards her car. She switched on her phone and entered the information required to indicate to the app that her ‘date’ had ended. When prompted, she gave her driver a score of 5.0.

She didn’t know whether this strange, very specialist web-based offering would succeed, but she resolved that, if it was still going in a few months’ time, when the urge to satisfy that perverted need within her again became too strong to resist, she would definitely explore what other hidden delights it could offer.

THE END