Cigar Truck Stop

The air’s thick with sweat, musk, hair—and the haze of stogies, cigarettes, and pipes. The hairy, burly men eye you over battered mugs and bulges in their jeans, smoke curling from their lips. When they spot the glint of your chastity cage and that tell-tale leak, you catch every one of them grinning wide. Looks like you’ve become the center of attention—from THEIR side of the room...and sometimes you even slip into your own body, feeling every pulse.