Taken

Carrie spent the day fighting a hangover and cleaning the place up. Her gut told her to leave, but she was trying to keep a promise.

After clearing out a dozen bags of trash, Carrie changed into a sexy pink matching bra and panty set, hoping to turn this trip around. At 5:20, John arrived home, eyes wild. His gaze fixed on Carrie.

"Good, you're still here," he leered, grabbing her wrist and pulling her to to his truck. He pushed her in.

"Please, don't do this, John," Carrie said, crying. "Look, I'll do whatever you want sexually, I promise, but let's go home and talk and figure this out, okay?"

"I need you to be a whore, so no, we're not going home." John grunted. ****, Carrie reached into the back of her panties and pulled out her phone, trying to text you. John saw the phone and grew angry, wrenching it from her grasp. But in that moment, there was an opening. Carrie could flee to her left to a RV park. Flee to her right to an alley. Or hope that where he was taking her was better than this hell.