Part one: Portable Prison

Janice:  I sit on the cane-bottomed chair, fully aware of how it is going to mark my bare bottom.  If I know the Mountain Man, and I think I do, I will have worse marks than this soon enough.

The stocks are heavy, but not as bad as they look.  I guess this is more comfortable than rope.  They certainly do the job, making me helpless like I’ve never been before.  I can barely see most of my body.  The thickness of the wood holds my chin up too far.  My hands are there and there, as useless to me as if they were on the moon.  The morning sunshine feels kind of nice on my bare body, warming it from the mountain chill.

He gives me drink of water and goes back to reading my wish list.  After a moment He looks up at me and asks, "Did you read the contract you signed?"

"Well, yes Sir, I know I said I would give up all voice in what is going to happen here, but . . ."

He cuts me off with a hard look and says, "If you want I will take you down the mountain right now.  There is a flight out of Missoula, nine o’clock tonight."

"No Sir, please!  Those are just my preferences, I thought you’d like some insight into what makes me tick."

"Well you’ve certainly accomplished that.  And for your chutzpa I sentence you to a little steeple chase in the woods."  He said, picking a bunch of birch withes out of a long pan where they have been soaking.

I squeak with panic and head for the stairs, my bare, cane patterned bottom giving Him a target both round and tender.      

Mountain Man:  As I chase Janice across the clearing I’m thinking, is this any way for a grown man to make a living?

Janice is pretty fast but the awkward stocks insure that she will soon tire.  I simply walk behind her, letting her go where she might, giving her a good swat with the birches whenever I catch up.

To keep my mind busy I think how all this got started.  Things were pretty much under control until that damned Peter Loaf heard about me and wrote that first poem about what I do to my guests up here.  Then the stupid bastard goes and posts it on the internet.  Suddenly I have more business than I can handle.  And now, every time some bimbo goes home she brags to her friends and I get a dozen more begging for my services.  I mean, shit, I’m only human.

So I set down some ground rules.  The first is that the girls have to sign a one-week informed consent contract which lays out what I will and will not do to and for my guests.  The contract has an escape clause.  If at any time a guest wants me to stop, she need only say, knock or hum "Shave and a Haircut . . . Two bits.  This will cancel the contract and put her on the next flight out.  The money, of course, is not refundable.

I am proud to say that I’ve yet to have someone take that offer.

J:  It was just after dawn when I came down the plane’s boarding ladder and saw Him standing in the small crowd of people holding up a chalkboard with my name on it.  I was impressed.  He is everything the girls in the chat rooms said He is.  Built like a lumberjack, as handsome as Hell and either wearing a cods-piece or hung like a pony. In fact, He looked so virile that I wanted to jump Him, right there in the airport.

I didn’t have any luggage (After all, I know I won’t need it) so we just walked out to His truck.  Instead of opening the passenger door for me, He opened the tailgate, lifted the fiberglass bed cover and ordered me to climb in.

Lying there on the truck’s bed near the tailgate was a pair of pine four by fours, hinged, hasped and drilled for my throat and hands.  Seeing it very nearly caused me to chicken out, money or no money.  He ordered me to lie down, lowered the top to hide me from the people walking by and told me to strip naked and hand out all my clothes.

When this was done He waited until no one was close, opened the cover a little, opened the hinged stocks and told me to lie on my back and put my neck and wrists into position so He could lock me up.  I did it and felt that old thrill of submission as the padlock clicked closed.

It was dark and dusty under there.  The truck’s springs were designed for a cargo a lot heavier than me and so, as helpless as I was, I bounced around back there like a bean in a barrel.  I have no idea where this mountain might be, other than it was almost mid morning before He stopped and raised the cover again.  I could see nothing but lots of trees and the biggest, bluest sky on earth.  He then helped me out and motioned for me to walk up toward His cabin, which stood in a meadow next to a small stable.

When we got to the cabin He pointed up a set of stairs and I climbed them to find a nice little sun deck outside a set of sliding glass doors that led to a large bedroom.

MM:  Before I got so damned famous I would have maybe ten guests a year up here, mostly friends or clients of Moll Flanders in need of a week in the woods to unwind from their high pressure lives.  Ten weeks is just about all the good weather we get up here.  As they say, Montana only has two seasons, winter and rodeo.  Now, I have to cope with subbies ten months a year.  This means doing a lot indoors, which is never as good as running them around the mountain, naked and helpless.  Of course the money is wonderful, twenty times what I used to make, but it gets a little tiring after a while.  After all, if someone is helpless they need constant attention.  And the whole point is that they be kept helpless.

Janice is beginning to slow down so I catch up and give her another swat on her pretty little ass.  She squeals and redoubles her efforts, the stocks making her run like a heavily loaded coolie.  I follow, continuing to think.

J: I hate that He has this strict rule that says you get one trip up His mountain and that’s it.  I understand that there are lots of women who want to experience His style of Mastery but damn, I’ve been waiting for three years to get my turn.  What if something goes wrong this week?  Like maybe my period coming early or I eat something that makes me sick or something.  What If I caught a bug on that damned airplane?

Well too late to worry about that now.  Here I am and for the next week the Mountain Man will be making all my decisions for me.  These balks of wood insure that.

The credit card company must think this is some fancy Bed And Breakfast, as much as it’s costing me to stay here.  Oh well, Daddy busted His ass to get me all that money, no sense not enjoying it now that He’s gone.

I hope the Mountain Man sticks to my wish list.  I really do panic when my mouth is blocked.  It’s more than fear of not getting enough air, it’s something primal, something deep inside me that goes kind of crazy when I’m gagged.  Besides, why would He need to gag me?  I am here on His mountain, twenty miles from the nearest human being, completely helpless and His to do with as He pleases.

Winded, I stop running and lean up against a tree, trying to catch my breath.  My bottom feels like I’ve sat on a bread slicer where He hit me with those damned birch withes.  Who knew soaking them in water made them so much more painful?

I feel kind of like Fay Ray running away from King Kong out here.  Terrified of being caught, yet aware of how many other dangers there are in the woods.  What if I were to come across a grizzly, or a cougar?  Hell, I would be at the mercy of any carnivore.  The thought of being eaten alive makes my pussy stir and suddenly I feel wetness trickling down the insides of my thighs.

I hear a chuckle and there He is, His eyes full of fire, His hand full of birches.  Before I can muster strength to run away again He grabs my arm where it comes down out of the stocks and holds me still for six hard swats across the rump before letting me go again.

I run the way I am facing when He lets me go, only half aware that it is back the way I came. 

MM:  After a few yards I see by her tracks that she has turned off the trail and is now trying to escape me by pushing through the underbrush.  I chuckle to myself, thinking about all the nettles and briars I have planted on this mountain.  Dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt the nettles and stickers don’t bother me much as I track her down.  I visualize how it must be for her, completely naked and deprived of her hands, the venomous leaves turning her soft flesh all rosy and afire with itching she is helpless to scratch, the tiny scratches of the thorns marking her nakedness from top to bottom, her body becoming inflamed by a thousand small hurts, her resistance bleeding away as the heavy timbers exhaust her.

When I find her this time, she is squatting, her bladder having made its non-negotiable demand.  I stand and watch, enjoying her discomfort and embarrassment.        

J: He waits until I have finished pissing, then He begins herding me like you’d drive a cow to market, up hill and toward a notch I see in the cliffs above.  Helpless to do anything to defend myself, I am forced to climb the steep grade, driven by the pain in my poor abused ass to struggle through the underbrush.

The notch turns out to be a box canyon surrounded by fifty-foot rock walls on three sides with a small clear mountain stream flowing out of it toward the south.  At the back of the canyon is a shallow cave that seems to go nowhere much.  The stream leads to a pool fed by a small waterfall that comes from a spring half way up the right hand cliff.

I am so thirsty by this time I want to kneel and drink from the stream but His bundle of birches only keeps me going up toward that cave.  When I am standing under the rock overhang He takes my wrist and pushes a hand against what appears to be solid rock, which, much to my amazement, swings open revealing a deeper cave within.

As He drags me through this hidden portal I feel as if I were being dragged into Hades.  I see that what I had thought to be rock is a cleverly camouflaged wooden wall, painted to look like rock.

It is dark inside but under foot I feel carpeting and before the door closes, cutting off the light, I sense furniture and fixtures.

Then the door closes leaving us in complete, total, subterranean darkness.  I squeak in terror and turn this way and that, afraid of falling, yet needing some ray of light to tell me the world still exists.

After what seems like an hour but is probably less than two minutes He lights a match and uses it to light an oil lamp on a shelf next to the door.

As my eyes adjust I see my new home for the first time.  It is a circular chamber about ten meters in diameter.  It has been carpeted and furnished with a huge four poster bed, a table and chairs, a Coleman stove, a gas powered refrigerator, a Porta-Poty and enough bondage stuff to satisfy the most demanding of submissives.  There is even running water in the form of a spring fed bowl mounted on one wall.  There are several oil lamps set in niches around the room as well as one hanging from a chain in the room’s center.  At the rear is a small cell, cut off from the rest by a set of iron bars set into the stone floor and ceiling and sporting a large lock to keep it closed.  The entrance to the cave has been walled off using thick timbers and iron bolts to hold them in place.

"Welcome to your quarters my slave.  Here you will learn many new skills." He says, locking the exit door and hanging the key around His neck.

MM:  I take her pinioned wrist and lead her over to a second hanging chain, which I attach to a ringbolt in the stocks directly behind her head.  She is now tethered and going absolutely nowhere.  Filling a pan with icy cold spring water and a little liquid soap I begin sponging the worst of the accumulated filth from her naked body.

 By the time I am finished she is shaking with cold and exhaustion, her lips (both sets) blue, her nipples tight and as crinkled as little pink raisins.  I give her a few dippers of water then treat the worst of her scratches with good old Bag Balm to prevent infection and then let her down so I can take her over to the bed.  Once there I lay her out on her back and quickly, before she figures out my intentions, tie her ankles up to the stocks so that she is folded in two, her sex on complete display.

The birches are new ones, still limber and wet from the trough in which I had them soaking.  I whistle them into her presented bottom so hard she tries her level best to levitate up off the bed.

Let the games begin.

J:  After the birching I am aware of little, other than the pain in my poor abused butt.  Then comes the sensation of weight on the bed and I open my eyes to the sight of Him, now mother naked and fully erect climbing onto the bed below my out-thrust and welt covered ass.

He bends down and kisses me, His tongue slipping into my mouth, His sweet breath and manly scent making my head swim in rising lust.  I feel His strong hands on my breasts, His fingers finding and stimulating my throbbing nipples.

His five o’clock shadow scratches against my face and then moves down to do the same to my breasts as He takes my nipples into His mouth and suckles them deeply, causing me to spasm in a kind of preview of what is to come.

When He moves on down to my spread and swollen groin the pain in my rump is totally forgotten, lost in the rising tide of helpless passion.  I feel His beard stubble on my inner thighs and then His tongue delving my pussy, flooding me with excitement and pleasures and thrills hitherto unimagined.  I lift myself to the pleasure, offering everything I have to Him, needing fucking more now than ever before.

He sits up and looks down at me, His big cock stiff, His face wet with my juices, His eyes glowing with pure animal lust.

He takes His big organ in hand and places His unclipped foreskin against my opening, making me shudder in anticipation and eager need.  He slowly drives it into me, filling me and fulfilling me and making me forget all the hurts I have ever known.  I open my mouth and scream like Jane, my pussy clenching on Him like a milking machine.

He reaches up above my head and opens a small hidden panel on the head of the bed.  Inside is the largest red rubber ball gag I have ever seen.  Before I even know my danger it is inside my mouth and strapped behind my neck.  

MM:  As I said, the submissives are asked to provide me with a list of their likes and dislikes.  I make no promises other than what I say in the contract, but they always assume I won’t do the things they find distasteful.  Fat chance.  What I have learned is the things on a submissive’s bad list are sometimes just the things that give her the biggest thrills.  If a gag causes her to panic as she says, then that is just the tool I need to get her in the proper frame of mind.  After all, what they come here for is Mastery, right?

My cock in her pussy feels how excited she is getting, now that she is gagged.  It is like I’ve awakened her innermost desires, her inner woman, her Venus, her Goddess of sexual passion.  She bucks herself up against me, seeming to try and swallow my member even as she screams against the rubber strapped into her mouth.  I think about the second item on her list and smile in anticipation of what I plan to do next.

J:  I am very close to what I believe is going to be the most intense orgasm of my life when suddenly He withdraws His big cock and leaves me in the lurch.  It is like climbing the stairs in the dark and losing count so that you try to walk on air.  I mew in protest at this cavalier treatment but He only chuckles and rolls on a spike covered midnight black condom before picking me up and turning me over.  With my ankles tied to the ends of the stocks there isn’t much I can do about it and when He lifts my butt onto His lap and begins greasing my pooper I can do nothing except protest in the strongest possible hum.   

MM:  Janice does me the favor of trying to keep me out of her ass by clenching her anus, thus giving me twice the pleasure.  Soon, however, her screams of outrage and protest modify into something else, something so sexy that I find myself holding back, wanting to make this last.  I reach under her with one of my little joy buzzers and press it against her clit while sliding my spike covered cock in and out of her clutching asshole.  Her body stiffens and shudders, seeming to be nearing her climax.  I double my strokes and press the joy buzzer up inside her vulva while gripping her breast in my other hand.

J:  When He grips my breast and squeezes, it is like an explosion goes off in my body.  The orgasm washes through me, engulfing me in pleasure, sweeping away all of me that is not sexual, not orgasmic.  His spike-covered cock in my virgin ass is sending wave after wave of incredible sensations up my spinal cord and into my reptilian hind brain where it awakens my deepest needs, my secret desires, my sexual center.  I feel Him stiffen, thrust deep and begin to empty His huge swinging balls into my hot and writhing body.  This time when I scream in passion I really mean it.

Part Two: Supplicant

MM:  On the morning of the seventh day I get up and fix us a nice breakfast of coffee, eggs, bacon, hash browns, toast and jam.  When it is ready I get Janice out of her cage and lead her over to the table.  The hoodwink I’ve had her in for the last three days keeps her from giving me those pleading looks all the time but it does me no real good.  Like many women I’ve had up here, Janice has fallen into what she believes is love.  The trouble is, I think I may have fallen for her as well.

This is not good, for I am the famous Mountain Man.  I service these bimbos, not fall in love with them.  How can I make a living up here without my guests?  And how can I make the mortgage payments without any income?

Well, today is the last day of her week on my mountain, perhaps when she is gone I’ll be able to get her out of my thoughts.  But what if I cannot?  What if I find myself unable to perform for Princess Alice when she gets here tomorrow?  How will I run this stud farm without my stud?

I sit Janice down at the table, pull off the hoodwink and begin feeding her.  With her hands cuffed up in the middle of her back she certainly cannot feed herself.

After breakfast I tie the hoodwink back down under her chin and then tie the short spreader bar between her ankles.

Then I leave her sitting at the table and see to the breakfast dishes.  All the while I’m cleaning up I am acutely aware of her sitting there naked and helpless, her wrists chained up to the back of her dog collar, her ankles tied to the ends of the spreader bar, her naked body mine any time and in any way I want it.  She sits in silence, her unspoken desire for me eloquent in her every breath.

When the cave is all cleaned up and ready for the next guest, I snap a leash to Janice’s collar and lead her out into the outer cave.  Hobbled by the short bar between her ankles, Janice follows the leash in a blind shuffle.  Locking the hidden doorway with a hidden lock, I take my prisoner out into the canyon and down the trail that leads back to the cabin, far below.   

J: Having no choice in the matter, I follow the dictates of the leash. In the last week I have learned to do many new and exciting things, sexy things, deeply satisfying things.

From that first day, when He put me into those stocks at the airport until this moment, I have been His, body and soul.  I have loved every minute of it, even the most painful . . . Especially the most painful.

He has fulfilled my every expectation, from the size of His big organ down to the way He cuddles me after we have sex.  He has been the perfect Master, always knowing exactly what I needed to awaken the sleeping tiger within my sexually repressed soul.

MM:  On the morning of the second day, after breakfast, I slathered her up with sunscreen, then harnessed her as a pony girl, complete with nipple and clitoris bells and a butt plug mounted tail.  I took her outside to where my pony cart awaited.  Once I had her hitched up, I sat down behind her, admired the view for a few seconds, then popped my whip against her already welted ass.  Guiding her with nipple reins I had her drag my weight up to the top of the mountain, where I introduced her to the pleasures of stump breaking.  I do not think she will ever again look out from the top of a mountain without thinking about me and the pleasures of my big cock plowing her furrow from behind.

For the first few days I was careful to keep her slathered in sunscreen.  This was necessary because she’d come up to the mountain with a Mainiac’s winter pallor and I didn’t think she could handle being whipped on a sunburn.

The slathering process was kind of nice as well, leading usually to the morning’s first fuck.  After three days of running around the mountain she was tanned enough that she no longer needed the protection.  In addition, the exercise was beginning to show results.  Her muscles were firming and tightening her already nice body to one of extraordinary beauty and stamina.   

J:  It was amazing to me how the mountain trails went from too steep to climb to easy grades in just the one week.  I’ve always been athletic but have never known such effective training techniques.  Perhaps it is the mountain air, perhaps it is the knowledge that if I don’t perform I will be whipped.  Perhaps I was just trying to please this man, this Sex God, this Devil who seems to know my deepest secrets.

Anyway the day I have been dreading is here.  He is taking me back to Missoula this afternoon and I will never see Him again.  I am glad of the hoodwink, it keeps Him from seeing the tears in my eyes.

When we walk into what feels like a barn I remember the stable near His cabin.  He has me kneel on what feels like a saddle blanket then begins to tie my wrists up to a post so that I am forced into the ancient, sexually exposing, kow-tow position, as if I were begging Him for mercy. 

MM:  I stand and look down at my conquest.  Janice is perfection personified.  If I were looking for someone to make my life complete she would be my first choice.  I love how quickly she learned that she need not talk to communicate.  Some girls need to be gagged throughout their weeks up here.  Janice never "needed" gagging at all, other than to breach her final defenses that first day.  I also love the way she juices up at the drop of my zipper.  Her sexual nature seems perfectly attuned to mine, always horny, always eager to feel my cock driving into her warm and accepting depths.

I watch as she wiggles her ass, trying to tempt me into taking her now.  I see the shining wetness lubricating her vulva and catch her come-fuck-me scent on the still air.  I feel my cock stir and begin to swell inside my trousers, marveling at this woman’s magic powers.

J:  I feel like I’m drowning, needing His style of Mastery as I need air.  I don’t know if I can live without Him, without His glorious cock.  I want to be His full time slave slut, His brood mare, His mistress, His one and only.   

MM:  I am about to drop my trousers and take her one last time when I see a sheriff’s car pulling into the yard.  I walk out and greet my old friend Deputy Bob Carter with whom I sometimes share my guests.  In return he helps me deal with some of the more persistent pain sluts who come up here and try to horn in on some other girl’s time.  I decide to let him give Janice her farewell fuck, thus avoiding dealing with the growing emotional attachment I feel within me.

I tell him to keep his mouth shut, go into the stable and service the girl he finds there.  He grins and takes me up on it.  Hell, I tell myself, I need the rest.

Bob removes his uniform and goes over to stand behind the helpless Janice, his long skinny cock in his fist.  I wonder if he will take her ass or her pussy first.  Both holes are presented perfectly for the taking.  He kneels and, using his thumbs to spread her swollen labia, begins licking her in a very knowing manner that gets her mewing in almost no time.  After a minute he gets up and goes over to the equipment locker and gets a large vibrator and the can of Crisco.

I stand quietly behind them, watching as he spreads the grease on the vibrator then slowly shoves it into her rear, making her press back against it and moan in rising desire.  Once it is inside her colon, he switches it on to its lowest setting then fills her pussy with his cock.

Knowing that he has a couple of hours, he is in no particular hurry.  Janice thrusts her bottom back against the double invasion, mewing in encouragement and desire.

I feel something I have never thought I would ever feel.  It starts out as a strange tightness in my chest, as if someone were gripping my heart.  I wonder briefly if there is something wrong with me.  I feel something else, a sudden nameless rage welling up within me.  I turn on my heel and walk from the stable, leaving my friend alone with Janice.  I go up on my deck and spend a long time searching my feelings, trying to figure out what ails me, realizing in the end that I am simply jealous.

I have never been jealous before, never felt this way about any woman.  I find myself fantasizing about going in there and empting Bob’s Glock into the back of his head.  I want to beat him to death with my bare hands. I want to geld him.  I want to rip out his long skinny cock by its roots.

I hear Janice screaming in passion and grit my teeth in helpless rage.  I want her to be screaming around my cock, not Bob’s. 

I tell myself it is for the best.  After all, I cannot afford to fall in love.  This mountain has a mortgage.  I have to come up with ten thousand bucks a month to keep it.

After a while things quiet down in the stable and Bob comes walking out, buckling his Sam Brown belt with a self satisfied look on his face.  I offer him a cold beer and motion for him to sit down.      

J:  After a final fuck in the stable my Master unties me, removes the hoodwink and gives me back my clothes.  I am surprised to see we have company.  Then as I think about that last fuck I realize what it is that has been bothering me.  I had sensed something different about my Master, something less satisfying, less intense about that last fuck.

Has He given me over to this deputy?  From the look in the man’s eyes I think that might be the case.  Then I look at the Mountain man and know the truth.  He has turned me out, turned me over to this stranger, this uniformed thug.

I feel myself blushing, remembering how I performed for this stranger, this interloper.  I feel betrayed, scorned, cheated.  I want to confront them, accuse them, hurt them as they have hurt me.  I bite my lip and remain silent, feeling as if I might cry and not fully understanding why.  After all, He has fulfilled our contract perfectly.  He has given me more pleasure in the last week than I thought possible.  He has made me His, lock stock and harness.  He has been the perfect Master.

The mountain man explains that He has another guest coming in the morning and that He has asked the deputy to take me down to the airport so that He can have time to get ready.

I feel numb as I get into the cop car and we start down the mountain.  I stare out at the passing scenery thinking how much I am going to miss my mountain man, how empty my life will be not having him to service my needs.  I begin to cry.

The deputy glances over and says. "Don’t feel bad, missy, he’s just too much man for any woman."

I look at him and feel the rage welling up within me.  "If He is too much man why did He need your help?"  I say, blushing again as the tears run down my cheeks.

"He didn’t need my help, he just shared you as the last lesson.  He wanted you to know that you don’t need him to have fun."

"You wouldn’t understand!" I say looking out the window.

"You don’t think you are the first woman to think you are in love with him do you?"  He said turning the cruiser onto the highway and heading down toward Missoula.

MM:  I watch them drive away, an invisible fist gripping my heart.  I want to go after them, bring her back and keep her here with me forever.  But I simply cannot do that.  My life is too bound up in this Mountain Man thing.  If I stop doing this I will lose my mountain, lose everything.  I am as much a slave to the money these rich women pay me as they are to my sexual Mastery.

The simple fact is that tomorrow morning Princess Alice of Spain is going to fly into Missoula expecting a week of stud service.

Any Master would jump to be in my shoes.  The princess is one of the world’s most beautiful women.  She has already sent me her list of likes and dislikes and the second one is one of the shortest I’ve ever seen.  So why do I feel so bad?

It is because I don’t want Princess Alice or any other woman.  I want Janice.  I want her so bad I ache. 

J:  "Wait!"  I shout, making Bob nearly run off the highway.  "Take me back, I just figured something out."

Bob looks over at me and says, "Sorry missy, I can’t do that.  He never lets a girl come back up once she’s left."

"You don’t understand, I can fix everything!"

"Well you can’t fix this, honey, He’s really strict about it."  Bob says, maintaining his speed.

"No, He should at least hear my idea.  I’ve got fifty million bucks.  If I were to pay off his mortgage He could still do what He does, if He wants, but I could live up there with him, help him, be his serving slut and business manager."

"It sounds like a good idea."  He said, doubtfully, looking at me with new respect.  "Why don’t you go home and email it to him.  Believe me if you go back up there uninvited you will be very sorry you did."

MM:  Suddenly I jump up from my chair and run down to where I have my Harley parked.  Twenty seconds later I’m racing town the mountain track.  I don’t care about losing the mountain, or anything.  What matters is that I do not lose Janice.  Once I reach the pavement I open it up, laying the big bike into the curves so hard that my foot boards scrape.  On the straights I take it to as fast as it will go, desperate to catch them before they get to the airport.

Soon I am down on the valley floor and going flat out the speedometer showing 150 and the trees a green blur.  When I come up behind car or truck I go by so fast they must think they’ve stopped.  At one point I am about to pass a log hauler when it begins to turn left.  I manage to swerve to the right and suddenly he is a small dot on my rear view mirrors.  Then ahead I see the cruiser and begin slowing.  As I come up beside it I shout "Janice!"

Bob looks at me as if I were crazy then begins to slow down, a big wide grin on his face.

I park the bike behind them and run up to Janice’s side of the car.  "Come back with me."  I say, leaning in to hug her.  "I find that I cannot live without you."