Dirty Diaries: A Darkly Erotic Novel

by Rimmer, Anita

  Charles told me that he owned a few other truck stops and none of them were as busy as this one. He was looking to use this place as a model that he could potentially roll out to some of his other stops and wanted to make sure he perfected it here first. Since he'd been in the business for over 20 years, he had a lot of clientele that travelled the country and he knew that they would pay top dollar for my services. Most of them were lonely guys just looking for release. Frank had stumbled upon a great idea, tying my services to the stop itself. It both drew in more customers for some of the free stuff like blow jobs or straight sex, but then allowed them to pay a premium for more "extreme" acts.

  Charles said he knew that Frank was having me do a lot of that stuff anyway, and still paying me very little. He said that under his model, the freebee stuff would be covered under my newly doubled salary, but anything extra I would get a cut from. I told him that sounded great and I was all for it. He mentioned that this week he already had some workers lined up and they were going to remodel the upstairs shower room. There was some unused space behind it that they would expand into, making it bigger, and it would be my primary work area. He didn't want me going out to trucks anymore. At least not for anything beyond the normal stuff.

  All in all, it seemed like a good plan and I was excited to earn some extra money. Charles seemed like a great guy, that is, until I stood up to leave.

  "Before you go," he said, "there's one more thing. If I'm going to charge for something then it's best if I know exactly what I'm selling." This sounded suspiciously like Frank's line of sampling the merchandise.

  I just nodded. At the end of the day, he really was no different than any other client. I walked over to him and dropped to my knees in front of the couch. Charles just watched me with his deep green eyes, his face expressionless. I put my hands against the front of his pants and felt a fat cock underneath them. I unzipped and reached inside, snaking my hands right into his underwear and grabbing his hot fleshy rod. He was just starting to get hard from anticipation as I pulled his dick free through the hole in his pants.

  I grabbed the head and gave it a little rub, feeling it start to harden in my hand. I don't know why, but it kind of made me sad that he wanted me to do this. I had started to get my hopes up that he would be different, I guess. I opened up my mouth and took him in, running my tongue along his shaft and feeling the coarse dark pubic hair. He wasn't overly long, but he was very thick. I continued to bob up and down but then felt his hand on my hair, tugging on me. I looked up.

  "Take you pants off and bed over the desk," he commanded. His voice wasn't mean, but it was firm. As if he was use to people doing exactly as he asked without question.

  I stood up and did as he asked, leaving my pants down by my ankles as I placed my elbows onto the worn wooden desk that I was so familiar with.

  Charles got up and moved behind me, touching my ass with his hands tentatively at first. Then I felt him pull his hand back and slap me hard on the ass. I gasped in surprise and swung my head around to look at him.

  "Turn around," he barked at me, so I looked away again as another slap hit me from behind. His fat cock pressed up against my pussy and pushed its way in roughly. I wasn't completely dry, but I wasn't soaking wet either and the friction from his cock along the sides of my pussy burned a bit as he shoved his way in. Within a couple of strokes, though, I had lubricated well enough that he was starting to slide easier. Every few thrusts he would slap my ass again, until finally I felt him pull out and shove his cock into my ass.

  At this point, after being fucked there for so many weeks and the fact that he was already pretty lubed, it went in fairly easily, although I did gasp in surprise. I hadn't been expecting that move at all. He was starting to pant a little bit harder now, and his thrusts were going a bit faster. As he continued to pound me, he reached his hands underneath to my pussy and grabbed a hold of my labia, tugging hard each time he pushed forward. I gave a little yelp and felt the sting of his hand on my ass one more time.

  After giving me a couple more slaps on my burning ass, he pulled out again and popped himself back into my vagina. With a load groan, he unleashed his load deep inside me, spraying my womb with his hot seed. I felt his cock spasm a couple more times, releasing more cum into me and then finally he withdrew.

  Something felt familiar about this experience, but I didn't spend a lot of time thinking about it. I was happy to have it over with. I reached down and pulled my clothes back on as he did the same.

  "Yes," he said, "that'll definitely do well here. I have one more thing for you, Anna, before you go." He walked around his desk and picked up a box. He opened it up and rummaged through it for a few moments, finally pulling out a long black collar.

  I looked at him questioningly.

  "You're new uniform," he said, tossing it to me. I caught it and examined it closely. It was black leather, and had small curved metal studs in a repeating pattern along its length. It had a couple of loops on it, one for fastening and then an extra one.

  "What the fuck is this?" I asked.

  "Think of it as a necklace."

  "It's a collar," I said.

  "Just wear it. Everyone here is going to have a new uniform suitable to their job. This is yours. This just lets people know that you work here. Would you rather I make you up a t-shirt that says slut on it?"

  For some reason that comment hurt. I was use to verbal abuse from Frank, but I had already built up much higher hopes for my relationship with Charles. He must have seen the look on my face.

  "Anna, I'm sorry, that comment was uncalled for. I simply mean that other staff are going to have black t-shirts that are designed to make it obvious that they work here and what they do. I don't think that works for you. I think this collar is sexy, don't you? And it can be discrete as well. I see the occasional young man or woman wearing things like this out in the street. But the ones that are looking for your services, they'll know who you are without having to come to me. And everyone else will be oblivious. I'm not always going to be around as much as Frank. I have other truck stops to run. I need this one to run efficiently on its own."

  What he was saying seemed to make sense, so I just nodded.

  "Here, let me help you," he said. He came around and took the collar from my hands. He put his arms around my neck and I could smell his hands, they smelled clean as if he had washed them recently, but I could also smell a heavier scent that I always associate with men. When his hands touched my neck as he wrapped the collar around me, I couldn't help but get a little shiver despite what had just happened. Maybe he really did just want to make sure he knew what he was giving his clients. And some guys just got off on a little slapping and anal sex. It didn't mean he was an asshole. Not really.

  He finished tightening the collar and his hands brushed my cheeks as he withdrew them. Goosebumps ran up my skin. I suddenly wished our session had gone longer, that I could have had a chance to cum. It had still been so long.

  He stepped away and walked back to his boxes. "We'll talk soon," he said dismissively. I reached up and touched the black leather around my neck as I left his office. Maybe it won't be so bad. Anything was better than Frank.

  Week 26

  Another week of nothing special going on, other than the room upstairs getting renovated. I haven't seen it yet, but workers have been going up there all week and Charles said that things are progressing well, should be ready in a couple of days. In the meantime, despite the fact that the goal is to get me out of the trucks for the most part, that's the only place I've had available to me so all of my encounters this week have been there.

  The collar has stopped bugging me for the most part, and word seems to be getting around about what it means. Charles was right, though. With Frank, I always had to rely on him to tell me that a guy wanted my services and to set it all up. Now, guys seek me out. Charles told me that people know that anything beyond the norm would cost extra, and any time anything like that happened I should let hi
m know and he would collect. Hard to say what crosses the line, though. I suppose straight oral, anal or vaginal sex is normal. Lately, though, other things have been becoming more normal and I'm not sure how I feel about it yet.

  There have been a few instances where guys have been pulling on my collar as we fuck, usually when they're doing me doggy style. It ends up choking me a bit. The first time I really didn't like it and pushed the guy away, making him stop. Since then, though, guys have been doing it more and more and I've noticed that while I am unable to breath, the sexual sensations seem a bit heightened. I'm not saying I want it to continue or would seek this out, not yet anyway, but it is something that has gotten my attention. Problem is that I'm usually scared the guy will choke me so hard that I pass out and he'll kill me or something, so it keeps me from completely surrendering to the experience and being able to enjoy it fully.

  At any rate, I have to talk to Charles about whether that constitutes something special and he can charge more for it. I'm all for those bonus dollars he promised me.

  Week 27

  Okay, weird shit starting to go down. I'm really confused and not sure what I'm going to do. Early in the week Charles came to get me, telling me that the upstairs renovations were finished and he wanted to show me around.

  So I followed him upstairs. The stairway itself was, for the most part the same, although it seemed as though they refinished the wood stairs and painted the walls. When we got to the door, I could see it was new. It looked heavier, and had a big lock on it. The previous door did have a little privacy lock that customers could turn so that no one else would come into the shower area when they were there, but it wasn't really meant to keep anyone out that really wanted to get in. This new one looked like it meant business.

  Charles pulled out a key and unlocked it. He walked through and I followed. The first thing I noticed was that the room seemed a lot bigger. They had opened up a wall at the far end and almost doubled the size of the change room area. It wasn't very big before, so it wasn't like it was massive now, but it was big enough that I saw they had added a small bed. That was a welcome addition, since I was tired of always lying on the floor in this dirty room. Oddly, though, the floor was now covered in a thin industrial carpet. A strange choice for a locker room.

  The closet that Frank had put the glory hole in was now closed off, at least from the angle we were facing as we came in. It use to be that the door to it was visible right when you walked in, but now it was just a wall. I could tell it wasn't removed completely, though, as the wall was clearly further out then the rest of the room, but it looked like maybe the door had been moved around to the other side where I couldn't see it without following it around the corner.

  The room to the shower was still wide open, and I could see that it had been opened up as well and made into a more proper single shower with new tiles. Lockers no longer ran along the wall since the room was clearly more single use now, and had the big lock on the main door.

  Charles walked around the corner of the closet and I followed him. That's when my jaw dropped.

  "What the fuck is that?" I asked. The entire side of what had been the closet before was now opened up, and it looked like the walls had been hardened with some sort of concrete. The floor was covered by the same thin grey carpet. But what had shocked me was that this entire side was closed over by thick iron bars. The closet had been converted into a cage. There was a hinged door at the bottom that had a lock on it and looked like it was big enough for a large dog to move in and out through.

  "A cage," Charles responded simply.

  "I can see that," I said. "Do you have a dog or something?"

  "No, it's not for a dog. It's for you."

  "What. The. Fuck." I turned to look at him, my eyes straining against their sockets, barely contained from popping right out. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest.

  "Right. Well, as we discussed, there is a market for the more extreme stuff that people will pay top dollar for. In fact, limiting things to just truckers is a pretty poor business model on its own. I'm part of a... group... that are into more extreme sexual... kinks. I've spoken to my group and verified that there are plenty of people willing to pay a lot of money for things that are hard to find elsewhere. If you're willing to go outside your norm, perhaps a bit outside your comfort zone, then you and I can make quite a bit of money."

  I continued to stare at him, the words barely registered after he said that the cage was for me. I let them sink in a bit, hearing the echo of his words in my head and trying to make sense of them. "What the hell are you talking about? You want to lock me in a cage? That's fucked up. No fucking way. It looks like it was built for a dog."

  Charles bent down to the lock on the cage, removing another key from his pocket, and opened the door as he spoke. "Actually, it was built for a dog. I wasn't going to tell the workers what we would really be doing here. As stupid as Frank was, he at least knew how to be discrete. He was careful who he told about you, and so am I. But I had to have this place built, so I ordered a cage that was big enough for a kennel and a standard door. This was the biggest size available. The people who put it together were just told that I had a big Doberman that I used for protection and this would be where he slept."

  "Well you may as well get one then, I'd hate to see that you wasted your money. But I'm not getting in there," I said flatly.

  "There are people," Charles said, "that will pay big bucks to simply believe that they have a slave at their disposal. You're not going to really be doing anything different than what you've already been doing. Think of it simply as a change of venue."

  I looked at him doubtfully.

  "I'm asking you to give it a try. Just crawl in there and see for yourself that it's not so bad. You only have to crawl to get in and out, once you're inside you can stand up."

  Charles stepped forward and put the back of his hand against my cheek, giving me a little caress as I glared at him. "You were the pioneer here and your relationships with some of the men would be sorely missed. But make no mistake. This is the future of this establishment. I'm confident that this is where a lot of money is going to be made, and if you aren't willing to go along with this I'm sure it won't take me too long to find someone else who will."

  So now he was threatening me. If I didn't go along with this, I was out of work. What kind of group was he part of, anyway?

  The door to the cage was open, and Charles motioned with his head one more time. He wasn't smiling anymore. He was right, of course. What the fuck does it even matter anymore? I've done more dirty and degrading things in this place than I ever thought possible, how much different is this? If it turned some guy's crank to see me locked up before he fucked me, and he was willing to pay big bucks for it, why should I care?

  I took a deep breath and shot one last frown at Charles, annoyed that he had set all this up. Annoyed that he thought it was necessary in order to make more money. And annoyed that I had ever thought he'd be any better than Frank. I dropped down to my hands and knees and crawled into the cage.

  The carpet underneath was as thin as I thought, and my knees hurt immediately even after just crawling a few feet along it. Once inside, I stood up and turned around just as Charles was closing the cage door and replacing the lock.

  "Hey!" I exclaimed.

  "I'll be back in a while," he said, turning to leave. "Get use to it in there."

  "Let me out!" I yelled, but I heard him close the big door behind as he left me alone and then I heard the heavy lock click into place. What the fuck had I gotten myself in?

  It's hard to say how much time I spent in the cage. When there are no clocks or no stimuli of any sort, really, time seems to take on less meaning. It could have been an hour, could have been four hours, I really had no idea. It felt like days though. I was hungry, and bored, and a little bit scared.

  Right after Charles had left and I had a moment to take stock of my situation, I realized that the cage was a bit bigger tha
n I thought. From the outside it seemed like you had complete view of the inside of the cage, but that was a bit deceptive. On the far side of the cage, the area went past the bars a little bit and a small toilet was built into the wall. It wasn't completely private, though. Anyone standing at the other end of the cage and pressing their head against the bars would have a view of it, but at least he didn't just leave me with a bucket.

  Eventually I heard a key hit the lock and the heavy door open. From my position I couldn't see who it was but Charles came into view just a few seconds later.

  "So, how do you like it?" he asked cheerfully.

  "You're an asshole. Let me the fuck out." I said.

  "Still angry?" he said. "Ok." He turned around and left again.

  I yelled and screamed for him to let me out, but I knew it was no use. No one was coming until he was ready to return. Eventually I fell asleep on the thin carpet.