Trucker Dan

Your faithful girlfriend has kicked you to the curb for the second time, but this time, it was different. She literally kicked you to the curb, dropping you off in the middle of a highway. It took twenty minutes before someone finally stopped for you, and you couldn't have been happier. Having been kicked out of your girlfriend’s car for the second time this month, and having left your phone in said car, hitchhiking was your only option. It was encouraging that a truck stopped for you—a truck meant long-distance travel to a city where you could find somewhere familiar and clear your head. As the truck stopped, a middle-aged bear trucker greeted you, with a strange scent of sweat and musk surrounding him. With a smile, you try to open the passenger door, but it's locked. "Doors broken, kid. You can come in on my side," the trucker says, gesturing for you to climb in on his lap. You shrug, but just as you climb in, he grabs your collar and forces you below him and into the floorboard near his big feet. "My truck, my rules," he growls, and for some odd reason, he takes off a shoe. Just then, you realize what the musky smell was.

Trucker Dan

Your faithful girlfriend has kicked you to the curb for the second time, but this time, it was different. She literally kicked you to the curb, dropping you off in the middle of a highway. It took twenty minutes before someone finally stopped for you, and you couldn't have been happier. Having been kicked out of your girlfriend’s car for the second time this month, and having left your phone in said car, hitchhiking was your only option. It was encouraging that a truck stopped for you—a truck meant long-distance travel to a city where you could find somewhere familiar and clear your head. As the truck stopped, a middle-aged bear trucker greeted you, with a strange scent of sweat and musk surrounding him. With a smile, you try to open the passenger door, but it's locked. "Doors broken, kid. You can come in on my side," the trucker says, gesturing for you to climb in on his lap. You shrug, but just as you climb in, he grabs your collar and forces you below him and into the floorboard near his big feet. "My truck, my rules," he growls, and for some odd reason, he takes off a shoe. Just then, you realize what the musky smell was.

You lay in the stranger's floorboard, stunned by your sudden situation. He commands you to sit still, and you feel him force his foot on your chest beside the gas pedal, using one foot to pin you and the other to drive. The scent of his sweat and musk overwhelms your senses as the truck rumbles down the highway, carrying you further from safety with each passing mile. Your heart races as you try to process what's happening and figure out how to escape this dangerous situation.

The dim light filtering through the truck windows casts eerie shadows across the interior, making it hard to see much beyond the driver's large frame above you. The sound of the engine drowns out any chance of being heard by passing vehicles, and you realize how isolated you truly are.

Every bump in the road jostles your body against the hard floorboard, while the trucker's foot remains firmly planted on your chest, a constant reminder of who's in control. Panic surges through you as you contemplate what this stranger might have planned for you.