Dawn at the Edge of Route 215 (Patreon)

I told myself I was looking for a ride — just another trainer stuck out on Route 215 after dark. But I wasn’t. I dressed like this on purpose. My skirt rolled too high. My top barely covering my tits. No panties, just friction. I knew the way back to Hearthome. I knew where the bus stop was. I just didn’t take it.

I walked the shoulder for an hour, letting my thighs glisten in the light of passing bikes, hoping one of them would stop. One did. He didn’t even say anything. Just watched as I wandered off the road into that busted old gas station near the broken signpost.

I’d been there before. I knew the bathroom light flickered. I knew the toilet didn’t flush. I pushed the stall open, bent over the wall, and pulled my skirt up until everything was out. No lock. No hesitation.

I felt the door creak. I smiled.

I didn’t need a ride. I came here to get ruined.