My husband sat there, his eyes red, his hands shaking, as he explained to the Sheriff that he had last seen me three days ago when I was on my way to visit our daughter at college. From what he could tell I had texted him when I was passing through this small town, and then nothing.

The Sheriff assured my husband that his office, while small, would do everything in its power to investigate my disappearance and that he would liaise with the surrounding counties. He patted my husband on the shoulder and assured him he would keep him informed.

My husband stood, shakily, as the Sheriff escorted him out of the interview room and turned off the lights.

It was dark, for several minutes, before the door opened again, and the Sheriff walked back into the interview room. He had a piece of paper in his hand. He turned to face the large one way mirror and held up the paper.

It had a photo of me, smiling, beneath the word “Missing” in bold red lettering. The Sheriff smiled, and spoke. “Well, you’ve been reported missing officially now. Looks like I’ll have to start ‘looking’ for you,” he says with a chuckle.

I scream, into the leather ball gag, and pull against the restraints that have me tied to the wall of the “observation” room, bedside a wall full of similar missing persons posters…

I’m a mother who had engine trouble on my way to visit my daughter. The local sheriff drove by and offered to help. Little did I know he and the tow truck driver enjoy taking stranded female travellers for their own enjoyment.

My kinks include non and dub con, rough degrading sex, choking, slapping, spitting, throat fucking, anal, painal, collars and leashes, impossible choices, age and size gaps, and more

My limits are underage, scat, blood and smells

I only play in PM’s