I was in college, and had little money and so got around by hitchhiking. I went to gas stations on the autobahn and asked drivers who were refueling if they could take me to another gas station on the way toward my destination. This worked great and I hardly ever had to wait for longer than 15 minutes until I had a ride.

I usually picked cars that could go fast and were reasonably comfortable and spacious. My brand of choice was BMW, as the drivers often made good time to the next stop, but I took compact cars, too. My primary concern was that the driver was safe; it was most important to arrive in one piece! Hitchhiking was considered dangerous and I tried to pick drivers with conservative outfits and cars in good working condition.

So one weekend when I wanted to travel south to a concert, I dragged out early and made my bleary way down to the gas station near the college. Despite the hour, I was happy with the prospect I found. A BMW. The driver was a well-dressed business man, black hair streaked with gray, who seemed friendly and helpful enough. He said he could drop me off at a station close to my destination and was on his way home for the weekend.

Once we got moving, after the unavoidable introductions and explanations, what I studied and where he worked, I was still yawning and the friendly driver told me I could use one of his relaxation CDs to go to sleep quickly. From an enormous stack of CDs, he produced one labeled “Cat Nap”, explaining he used it frequently when he grew tired when driving alone and needed to recover as fast as he could. I accepted thankfully as he also handed me headphones. I plugged them into the stereo and inserted the CD. I reclined a little in my seat and closed my eyes, the headphones muffing the sounds of the engine. I was curious as to how this might work and was glad that I could kick back and did not have to spend time talking to the guy, because that was the price I usually had to pay on these trips. I felt it was a waste of time getting to know people that I would never see again.

Soft music swelled, and then a calm voice began to talk about relaxing and breathing and asked me to repeat phrases after him. It was stuff like “I feel comfortable and relaxed” and “I hope to sleep deeply and soundly” which I quietly mumbled when prompted. I quickly figured out that it was a hypnosis session I was listening to and concluded that the driver really wanted to hypnotize me for whatever reason. But I decided that it would be safer if he didn’t notice that I had realized this because he might decide to drop me off in the void, with or without stopping the car first. So I kept mumbling the innocent-sounding phrases and hoped he would be happy once the CD was over and I finally might be able to sleep for real...

“I will obey automatically and without thinking.” the calm voice said inside my head.

I repeated “I will obey automatically and without thinking.” and opened my eyes in shock.

I had come back to awareness. The soft music was still playing, just like before, but I had dozed off! It was dark outside, sullen and overcast, and I saw a few cars passing by. We were slowing down. I had no recollection whatsoever of what had transpired and what else I might have repeated while sleeping. How much time had passed, how long had this gone on? I looked over to my driver, who noticed my movement and returned my gaze.

“Well done, we are almost finished with CD 3!” he said.

At the same moment, the calm voice on the CD spoke: “I will always be completely truthful and trusting towards my master.”

While I stared at him wide eyed, without any conscious participation on my part, my mouth said “I will always be completely truthful and trusting towards my master.", I swallowed hard and tried to control my emotions. This was worse than I thought. This was not me talking. I would never say stuff like that!

He chuckled, turning his attention back at the road. “This part is great. By the way, you can let go of your cock now.”

I looked down at my cock, which was standing proudly out my opened pants and underwear, totally hard and erect with pre-cum leaking from its dark red tip. I had been stroking it slowly the whole time and had not noticed. I let go of it as if it was a hot coal , which wasn’t that easy as hand and cock were sticky from pre-cum. I stared at my twitching cock, pre-cum glistening, as if it was to be blamed for my predicament.

“I can’t cum without permission and will be horny all the time.” the calm voice informed me.

“I can’t cum without permission and will be horny all the time.” I repeated in a monotone, while still staring down, as if reading yesterday’s weather forecast.

My friendly driver pulled into a dark autobahn parking lot and produced a white plastic bag from the wide back seat.

“Put this on and put your clothes into the bag. Get out of the car and it will be easier. You can stand in the headlights where I can see better,” he told me matter-of-factly.

I took off the headphones, unbuckled, took the bag and got out in front of the car. There was a bench there so, despite the comment about standing, I could sit down. Unpacking the bags contents, I found a pony tail butt plug, a black rubber cat suit, some silicon oil lubricant and black platform boots. Geeze, what a crap outfit! I undressed. Despite the summer night’s (was it night?) chill my erection wouldn’t go down, but swayed lazily when I moved. I lubed up the suit from the inside, inserted myself part by part, starting with the feet, pulling it up to my waist, my hard dick, like through honey, slowly sliding into its pouch. Trying to stall for time I started straightening out all the wrinkles and crinkles, pulling the fabric left and right till it fitted somehow. It was very tight, as if made for someone a size smaller than me. My legs were shaped by the constricting rubber into rounder forms than usual. I put on those ridiculous platform boots to be able to stand and move more freely. Perhaps I could better run away in boots then without them? Recapitulating, I could not think of anything to do in this situation. I didn’t know where I was, what time it might have been or which direction to go Trying to stand in the boots, I quickly retracted the phrase ‘move freely’. Why hadn’t I made my move as soon as I got out of the car? Well, I would have better chances to get away without the suit hanging down my legs from my waist down. So I inserted first one arm, then the other into the suit’s sleeves, fiddled with the attached gloves to get my fingers in the right openings and finally tried to pull up the back zipper, which had a handy string attached to it, otherwise I would not have managed to grab it, let alone pull it up. My chest seemed to be pressed together by the rubber; it was so tight. Breathing took effort. Through a hole between the legs I tried to insert the plug with the attached tail.

My friendly driver shouted from the car: “Take it slow! Relax your arse, as if you are pushing against it!”

Irritatingly enough I thanked him meekly and only afterwards wondered why I hadn’t cursed him instead. The plug slid into place smoothly once I pushed it past the threshold and the tail swung against my lower legs. I shivered. Idle for the first time I looked around the parking lot. It was deserted, and there were no buildings immediately in sight, although cars still raced by on the autobahn, only perhaps 25 meters away. Again I thought about making a dash to the autobahn, or whatever the road was, waving and trying to get someone’s attention, but instead I calmly collect my clothes in the plastic bag.

“Shine your cat suit with the silicon oil!” my driver ordered loudly.

The suit was dull and dark as the night(?) and even though I stood in the car’s headlights I hardly would have attracted attention even if a car entered the parking lot, or so I hoped. Reluctantly I started to rub the silicon oil on my suit with my rubber gloves and it started glistening and shining like a black Christmas tree. There was no way I could be missed like this anymore. It occurred to me how compromising this situation had become. Being naked in a parking lot at night? Not good. Dressed in a black rubber suite at night(!) in a parking lot? Much worse! Dressed in a latex cat suit with a tail plug up my ass and a prominent hard-on, glistening in the light? Impossible to excuse! I finished the shining as quickly as possible and hurried back to the car, as fast as those horrific boots could carry me. I passed the bag with my clothes to the driver and eased into the passenger seat again, afraid to put weight on the plug.

The driver asked “Well, how was that?”

“Totally weird,” I admitted “I was so embarrassed; I almost died. I feel totally horny. And I did consider running away.”

“Heh. I can imagine!” he chuckled. He shifted back into gear, crawling the car forward. A dumpster loomed into view, and he tossed in the bag. As he touched the button which slid his side-window back into place, he continued: “See the CD stack? Find CD 4 and listen to it!”

I paged through the CDs. A collection of classical music, blues, and then discs labeled “2 - Taming the Cat”, “3—Total Submission”, “5—Herding Cats”. “4—Cat Suit Prisoner”. I popped in the CD, put on the headphones again and leaned back. “Stroke your cock slowly and relax more and more” the calm voice told me. My body betrayed me again. I obeyed and stroked myself while I once again sank deeper into my seat and listened to the music and repeated everything the voice started to tell me.