Sometimes rush hour is a real ordeal (stupid_girl and pantyhosethief)

[pantyhosethief]

I noticed you when I walked down the platform (looking for a nice bottom, as is my custom) and immediately thought, that's my pleasure for this evening.

Most people hate rush hour, the crowds, the irritation. Not me.

So I stand behind you, studiously not admiring your legs, and when the train arrives, on we press. You're quite determined to get through and to the end of the carriage, where you anticipate there's most space, and I only get to brush my hand against you lightly, once. It's cold out, and the fabric of your smart dark green pencil skirt is cool.

I follow you down to where you find there isn't any space, after all. A whole gaggle of Chinese students come through from the next carriage, and you have to stop by the toilet door. You try and step back to get more space, but someone is behind you, so you resign yourself to the tight quarters. You drop your bag at your feet, open your phone and start texting.

I'm directly behind you. *beep beep beep*, the doors close, it is quite crowded and people shove in. Well, no-one shoves into me, actually, but I step forward anyway, forcing my crotch onto your firm behind. You accept this without really thinking. It is rush hour, after all. I've got one hand to hold my book and the nearest handhold, and one free.

Your hair smells nice, fresh. I'm careful not to breathe on you, not to draw attention.

Off we go. It's quite an old line, this, and there's lot of points to get over, so it's a pretty bumpy ride. Whenever we sway in my direction, I don't move, and you rub naturally against me. If we sway towards you though, so sorry, I have to push into you. You don't seem to notice this. When we don't sway, I look at your neck and the curve of your cheek, the fine down on your skin, almost invisible, your bold lipstick.

We stop for a bit. It's getting quite hot with the press of bodies, and I can smell you a bit. Nothing bad, or musky, just warm skin.

I look around casually. The students are engrossed in their own conversation in Mandarin, the few other passengers asleep or absorbed in their phones or newspapers. Cautiously, I slip my free hand down, deliberately turning to look out the window - what's that? - when I turn back my hand is between us. I rub myself a bit. Oh, we're off. I take the chance as we jerk into motion to take another small step forward onto you. Now my hand is on you. Your skirt is warmer now.

I'm quite hard now. With my glans I can feel your buttocks, I'm nestling between them a bit, forcing in the fabric of your skirt. You will be able to feel this, if you aren't too absorbed in your phone, but I don't think you'll do anything. How humiliating to raise a fuss! Everyone will look, and laugh. It's only for a few minutes. Maybe it isn't what you think, anyway. Surely no-one would be so rude, stupid girl. No, it is probably someone's bag, or umbrella handle.

[stupid_girl]

I hustled along the platform, I was running behind. I had gotten out of work, later than normal. The train wasn't there yet but I knew it would only be moments before it arrived. I was new to the subway, I had only been taking it for a few weeks now. I worked as a secretary in a Law Firm downtown and lived outside the side city. I hated it downtown, the smell, the rush hour, the people. There was nothing I liked here. The job though, it paid well, especially when I considered that I really didn't do anything. I knew I was a bit of a trophy in the lobby. I saw the ooks I got from the other women who worked there - jealous probably, and the looks from the men when they entered.

When the train arrived I wormed my way through the crowd trying to get to the back where it seemed it was usually most empty. When I got there I found that today was a different story. That final car was pretty much ful, just like the rest of the train, leaving me nowhere to go. I would have to stay in this car as it filled behind me leaving me without any options. I was stuck beside the toilet which just added to my frustration but I decided to try and tune it out. I pulled out my phone, I was on this thing until the last stop and figured I would keep myself busy.

A man stepped in behind me, very close to me. I was a little surprised at first, most men usually turn to the side so that they don't press into you, but not this man. But, when I glanced over my shoulder he seemed to be paying me no attention. Usually the creepy guys are staring right down at you and breathing on you. With those signs lacking I shrugged it off and went back to my texting.

I wasn't a huge fan of testing but with how loud and busy the train was it was just too difficult to talk on the phone, especialy when you figure that some people listen in. I was texting a girlfriend about our plans this evening. We planned on going out to a bar with a few other friends, dancing and drinking, teasing the boys. A good night for sure.

As the subways moved through the tunnels we swayed in the car. The man behind me rubbing up against me, but I guess I was doing the same to him. I texted my boyfriend to tell him I would be going out with Holly tonight and that I would talk to him tomorrow. It was nothing serious so I didn't mind going out with my friends and flirting although that is all it ever was. I would never cheat on anyone.

As the train continued to sway us around I noticed something. My face wrinkled a little as I thought of what it must be. An obvious pressure on my ass, and there is only one thing it could be. It was more noticable as the train continued to move. I was a little uncomfortable and wanted to pull away but there was nowhere for me to go. I sighed and thought for a second. This train has been rocking our bodies together, I know how I look - how could I blame him. While I was uncomfortable with it I decided to take it more as a compliment and tried to shrug it off.

[pantyhosethief]

I'm still holding my book in case you look around again but I'm not even pretending to read it now - after all, reading someone else's texts may be rude but it's hardly breaking a social taboo, and it's a good ostensible reason to be looking over your shoulder at your slender, perfectly manicured hands. I can't see down your blouse. I wish I could.

I imagine how you'll be, later, flirting, getting a bit drunk, a bit naughty and giggly, on the dance floor, look but don't touch, all eyes on you, safe in the crowd with Holly and your friends, party frocks, laughing to each other.

I wonder what your face looks like.

We've been through several stops now. Quite a lot of people have gotten off, but this end of the car is still crowded, mainly because I "haven't noticed" the seats available.

I can feel pre-cum leaking out, and there's a small damp spot on my trousers, and on the back of your skirt. Perhaps you'll find it later, a little stain, when you get home and change to go out. For a moment I'm disgusted with myself. Everyone ends up soiled in this city. Then the train sways again, and I'm jerked back to my pleasure.

The tannoy crackles, The next station stop will be Nusquam Street, customers de-training at Nusquam Street, please remember to take all your bags and luggage with you. You switch off your phone, bend over to drop it in your bag.


oh god yes


You straighten up and I can stop gritting my teeth.

The train slows, and stops... but not at the station. We're still in the tunnel. With a sad whine the engines power down, the lights flicker and go out. There's a collective groan. We wait for a moment. The tannoy apologises, insincerely. We'll be going again in a moment.

In the time it takes to blink twice something decides that you aren't going out to meet Holly this evening after all. Instead, you're going into the toilet cubicle with me, now. Book into pocket, left hand over your mouth, right hand knotted in your hair, forward we go. It'll only take about five seconds and we'll be through the door.

[stupid_girl]

I hear the announcement over the speakers and a little smirk comes over my face. Shit, I can't wait to go out tonight. It's always such a riot with my girlfriends. Get drunk, fall down, do it again. I'm young, I don't have to answert o anyone yet and I am not looking for Mister Right. Not yet anyways. I text Holly that I am getting off the train in a moment or two and that I'll call her when I am on my way to her place. I bend over to drop the phone in my purse, intentionally stepping away from you as I do. I might be a little flattered but I am not your scratching post.

When I stand up I take a look around for the first time since I got on the train. I notice a numbe of empty seats. The initial feeling of harmlessness I got from you fades and I suddenly get a little chill down my spine. I feel as though I have to get off the train right now...this instant. In that moment the lights flickered and the trained ground to a halt. We sat there in the darkness while an appology came over the speakers that had just promised my release. I was screaming in my head.

Just as I bowed my head I felt a large strong hand clamp down over my mouth. I tried to turn my head away from it but just as I did another hand grabbed a fist full of my hair, tight and close to the scalp. The grip preventing me from turning my head. Suddenly, I was being driven forward in the dark. Normally I wear glasses, but I wasn't now, and my vision was extremely limited in the dim light of the emergency lights in the tunnel. My arms flailed wildly as I tried to find a pole or hand rail that i could grab but it seemed with each desperate motion I missed by inches.

I had no idea where I was being driven to, we were on a train, where did this idiot think he was taking me? I opened my mouth as much as possible and tried to bite down on the hand over my mouth. I managed to get a little skin but it wold result in what would feel more like a mild pinch. I tried to scream as I was pushed further. Each scream muffled. We stopped for just a moment, I heard the subtle creak of the door to the washroom and it dawned on me what was going on.

[pantyhosethief]

I've surprised myself. I thought I was a nice guy, after all, skirts like to be looked at, right? And they like to be groped, right? Surely they wouldn't dress like that, otherwise. Most of them don't protest, anyway.

JESUS! You bit me! That part of the hand between the fingers is sensitive, it really hurt. You've drawn blood. (Taste the saltiness...)

Still, I've got you into the toilet cubicle. OK, I need to hold you, unzip myself, gag you, and lock the door...

With my hand knotted in your hair, it's no problem to slam your head against the wall. Briefly, you pass out. By the time you come round I've locked the door, dropped my trousers, put your head into the toilet bowl, and hiked up your skirt.

At the last minute I realise I haven't gagged you!

[stupid_girl]

My eyes flutter open and at first it isn't even a concern of my position or situation, all that I can think about in those first moments is the overwhelming pain shooting through my skull. Without a doubt I am suffering from at least a slight concusion. Once my vision clears and my senses return, at least a little, the precariousness of my situation very quickly comes clear. I am not standing so much as I am propped into my bent over position, face in the bowl of the toilet, something that likely would ordinarily made me vomit but my instincts declared there was not time for that.

I knew the threat that was placed on me. With my skirt hiked up around my waist it was clear that rape was my attackers goal, your cock had not yet entered me so I knew I had not been out long. I could even still feel the slight feeling of my thong betwen the cheeks of my ass. The walls of the bathroom were not tihick and if there were a commotion there is no way that it would go unheard, especially since the train was at a stand still with engines down.

I gripped the bowl tightly with my hands and with all the strength I had I pushed back against you. You hard, throbbing, expossed cock, free from your trousers pressed against my panty covered twat for a moment before slipping between my thighs. The motion pushed you back into the wall as my face emerged, the ends of my long dark hair wet as my mouth gaped open. The evidence of an impending scream evident as my chest expanded, taking in the air I would need to make my scream heard.

Just as I formed the H of HELP with my tongue and lips your hand shot out and covered my mouth again. This time though my screams were fighting their way past openings in the seal over my mouth that your hand provided and your in need of silencing me quickly. You didn't by any means want me to be unconscious while you enjoyed me but if I was shut up soon you would not have such an opportunity. With your other hand you reached over my shoulder and wrapped it around my through. Thin and slender it was easily big enough to begin closing my airway. You sqeezed tighter as my screams grew quieter. You could see the light in my eyes fading and you removed your hand from my mouth. Without a sound my lips continued to mouth my cries for help.

Finally, my body went limp and I was again propped in your desired position. You quickly checked my pulse to make you sure you hadn't held on too long. Pleased with the result you pulled my thong, balled it up and shoved it into my mouth. You looked around quickly for something to tie over my mouth finding a cute little pink bandana in my purse. You wrapped it around my head covering my mouth, ensureing I would not be able to spit out my thong gag. Pleased now that you had taken care of everything you retruned your attention on your enjoyment.

With your throbbing hard cock pressed to the lips of my twat you pressed forward. Still out and my body relaxed, the only fight you got was from my dryness. Once you had pressed the full length of your cock into me, balls pressing to my clit you decided it was time to bring me back so I could 'enjoy' this just as much as you were about to.

[pantyhosethief]

That was a close one. With some girls, being choked like that would make them reluctantly comply in future; I think it might have the opposite effect on you though. You've obviously plenty of spirit underneath that carefree partygirl surface. Still, hopefully that gag will be effective - it's only a very small pair of knickers but I've tied the bandanna very tight, back between your teeth. It'll hold until I want you to use your mouth.

Meanwhile, the train lurches into motion, only to stop at the station. Your station. I hear people getting off, going home happily to their homes, friends, lovers, lives. We start up again. Now with every minute we get further away from your world.

I look down at your pudendum, peeking out shyly from between your legs, lips modestly closed beneath curly dark hairs. I open you with my fingers and admire your pink for a few seconds. You're smooth and dry. I consider spitting into you but decide to do you the hard way. I put myself to your labia and force my way up into your hole, gritting my teeth as my foreskin is pulled back by the friction, deeper and deeper, until I'm all the way in. You are surprisingly warm inside. I wonder if anyone has told you this.

Thoughtfully, I remove your belt from your skirt and place it handy in the sink. I might need it quickly.

I take a good handful of your hair and holding your head in place in the toilet, trigger the flush. Cold water roars out of the cistern, soaking you, some of it running down your inverted face into your nose. As the flush dies away you are choking and thrashing around. I pull you upright, shake your head back and forth. "Stop it," I tell you. At the sound of my voice you only start to struggle harder. You reach up and claw at my hand. I force you down into the bowl again. "Stop now, or I'll flush it again," I warn you. You stop. I pull you back up. We are standing awkwardly, you bent over a bit before me. I turn us towards the mirror.

For the first time I can see your face. What a sight; head and shoulders soaked, tangled black hair around your pale white face. Above the pink cloth drawn tightly back between your lips, your horrified blue eyes meet mine. I move in you, slightly, and you wince.

"Don't do anything stupid, girl, and I won't need to hurt you again," I tell you. (No, I won't need to hurt you.) You make some muffled noises. "You want to speak? Not scream?". You nod affirmatively.

I shove you back over, face into the toilet bowl, pull back, and start thrusting away into you, violating you, using my grip on your hair to brace myself. With my other hand I gather your wrists together and hold your arms pinned up behind your back. You can't really support yourself, I try and keep your face out of the water but we slip a couple of times. It doesn't take very long this first time, only a couple of minutes, before start to I lose control. For a few strokes I'm fucking you even harder, jerking you around wildly, banging your forehead against the metal, then I stab down and erupt into your cunt, my sperm going even deeper than I can thrust directly. With great restraint I avoid making any noise except groaning.

I pull out of you and examine my work. No longer primly closed, your fucked twat gapes open, quivering. As I watch a few drops of sperm drool out, into your hairs.

I pull you upright again, loosen the bandanna and pull it down about your neck. I hug you to me with my left arm, rest my chin on your left shoulder as we look at each other in the mirror. I pull the sodden wadded thong from your mouth, prudently keeping my hand ready to gag you again.

"Now, we can talk", I say softly.

[stupid_girl]

The image in the mirror is terrifying. I can see your face, and I can see the intent in your eyes. I can see how you are looking at me as your eyes wonder over the reflection of my body in the mirror. My hair now soaked, hangs stringy on my shoulders. My face wet aswell, the water making my make-up run down my face a little. The bandana is soaked aswell, wicking the water from the tolet into my mouth. I see the disgraceful look that has become me and tears come to my eyes. As if it were your cue you begin to move your cock inside my twat.

You nod as though you are going to take the gag out, as if you are going to let me speak. You nod as though there is a chance that this might not have to happen. Then, you force my face back into the bowl and begin your assualt. You cock thrusts violently into my sex without an ounce of mecy for me. With your thrusts and the motion of the train my face dips in and out of the water and my heads bangs the bowl repeatedly. My headache is still present and simply being inverted like this adds to the pressure in my head. Tears stream from my eyes as I am violated.

Your cock pushes deep into me, spreading my lips apart visciously. My twat is still dry, and there is more than enough friction to help finish you off quickly. I know that the gag silences me to mear muffles but I can not help but scream from the pain of you tearing into me. Each thrust is nothing but torture to me as you treat me, not like I was human but rather a fuck doll for your pleasure.

With you balls smacking against my clit I feel you tense and pause for just a brief moment before your pace increases. I know what this means and through the thong gag that silences me I beg you wildly from inside the bowl not to cum inside me. There is no chance of me getting what I want though and moments later I feel the spasm of your cock inside my twat. Each thrust you make from there on in, milks your cum from deep within your balls into my cervix, filling me with your seed. You don't know whether I am on birth control or not, and you take some enjoyment knowing that I may be forced to carry your child.

As you pull out you do the same with my face from the bowl. It is now a little more wet and the make-up a little more smeared. I look like a cheap whore at the end of a long night. Little do I know that I am only at the beginning of my night. You untie the bandana and pull out my saliva soaked thong after warning me. For a moment I remain entire silent. I slowly turn around, half surprised that you are allowing me to do so. Once I am facing I see the look of lust filled intent face to face and I am frightened into silence. I can feel the cum you had planted deep inside me now begin to trickle down my thigh.

I want nothing other than to scream, scream wildly for help until my lungs explode. But, this is a horrible city...people would probably just think it was funny, or a joke...or just not care. I feel sick to my stomach as the humiliation of having just been raped, face down in a toilet sets in. "Please...please I didn't do anything. I don't know you...I did nothing to you. Please don't do this to me. Please just...please let me go. I swear....I swear I won't tell a soul." You chuckle a little to yourself as you look at me. You know when people see me leave the this train they'll think one of two things. I was raped...or I am a true whore. You wonder which I would rather admit.

[pantyhosethief]

Now my first explosive release has passed, I begin to think more calmly again. What am I doing? Feeling up a woman on the train is one thing... it's a game, a risky game, if she's bold enough to protest I might lose badly... if she isn't, for whatever reason (fear. excitement. stupidity. boredom.) then I win.

But this, this is madness. Something has made me do this. You asked for this, didn't you? No... in fairness you didn't. Maybe it's something genetic. Maybe its something in the media, the incessant adverts, the mindless game shows, pornography, depravity, materialism, violence that is our civilization. It isn't my fault.
.
.
.
No.

I want to deny myself, but how can I? I wanted to do this. I've thought about doing things like this for a long time, and now I've done it. And I like it. And I'm going to continue doing it.

Your soft breath on my face as you beg tremulously beings me back to reality. You've turned within my arms, and I look directly into your eyes now. So frightened. So lost, alone.

You aren't alone, though. You have me. And I have you.

I see in your face you are confused about what is happening. You wonder if it is your fault, or just your destiny, or just bad luck. You're worried about maybe you deserve this. Maybe, I think, you are worried that you wanted it, encouraged it. In a way this amuses me.

With sudden pity I kiss you, tenderly, on the lips. You struggle weakly to pull away. The feel of your softness beneath my mouth brings me back to my senses.

I slap your left cheek, hard, knocking your head to the right. "You won't tell a soul? You expect me to believe that? You'll be down the nick faster than I can say 'Jack Robinson.' And I know the police in this city are pretty unreformed, and there's a good chance they'll take you for some streetwalker who didn't get paid, but there's always one good apple when you don't want one. I can't take the chance, darling. Sorry. You're staying here with me. At least until the end of the line. Then we'll see."

Tears run down your cheeks now as you sob, pitifully. I can't resist slapping your face back and forth a few times. I push you back until you sit down on the toilet. With your skirt up the seat is cold against the back of your thighs.

You look up at me, cheeks reddened, mascara running hopelessly now.

"Show me your breasts," I order.

I'm not so foolish as to think I've done enough to break your spirit, but I wonder if part of you is ready, yet, to take the first compliant step in your own degradation.

[stupid_girl]

With my face now red and stinging I fall back into a seated position on the toilet. I can feel the tears escaping the corners of my eyes and rolling down my face before pooling at a point along my jaw line, just before dropping off. The drip landing near my breast on my white blouse. As the reality of my situation sets in more tears fall, a steady pace that dampen my blouse. As many tears that fall as there are, I do not sob. I somehow manage to maintain some restrain and keep myself from completely breaking down.

My eyes shift from looking up at you to looking down at my thighs. My gaze follows the trail of thick white fluid that had been left on my leg. I follow the trail from the very top of my thigh, my legs parted just slightly, all the way to where it dissapears at the crook of my knee. It is a reminder that you have just filled me with your seed. A reminder that have not just raped me, but raped me unprotected, God only knowing what you could have given me, a fear far worse than simply being impregnated.

My mind begins to run wild with thoughts of my past. The nights of going out with my girlfriends, accepting drinks from men, dancing with them. Sure, I was trying to be sexy but I was never trying to get laid. I had never promised them anything...never promised that they would get to take me home. A dance is not an invitation to sex, it doesn't mean they have the right to fuck me. This is NOT my fault, a sentence that repeats over and over in my head. Even if all that was unfair to the men I had done it to, I had never done it to you.

Just then, getting tired of my delay, not showing you the breasts that you had demanded to see, your hand again reaches out. This time the slap is not a warning, you are sending me a message. You are telling me that I am not to dissobey you and that I am to start being more compliant. The impact swings me into the wall of the restroom, the outside wall of the train, no fear of the thud travelling out into the passenger car. I place my hand on the wall and uneasily push myself back upright. My other hand holding the spot on my face where your hand had collided with.

My eyes fluttered as the pain of the impact radiated into my jaw. I open and close my mouth a few times, trying to work the pain out, to no avail. To your surprise though I had not made a sound when you hit me. My blank gaze clears and I look back at you. You can see the anger in my eyes, I reach out return the slap. I hit you as hard as I can making sure to curl my fingers just a little so that I scratch you aswell. When you turn your eyes back to me, rather than seeing me trying to make a move for the door. I am standing face to face with you, as much as my height will allow. The look in my eyes not one of fear but one of anger, I look as though I am challenging you. "Go fuck yourself!" I snap at you.

[pantyhosethief]

Not crying properly yet. I can wait.

Well, you took that slap better than I expected... uh

... you hit me, and it stung. I can feel blood trickling down my cheek from where your nails have ripped my skin. (At the back of my mind is the thought this may be a problem later.) I turn back to you and you are standing right before me, staring defiantly at up me, swearing at me. I really don't like having my personal space invaded like this.

My first instinct it to punch you in the forehead, keep punching until you are out again. But such blows would spoil your pretty face, and I like it as it is.

I restrain myself, and force myself to laugh at you, instead. You're still angry, but begin to get a bit puzzled as I throw back my head and chuckle. "Well done," I tell you. "Heh heh.. you got me good and proper.... look...". I put my right hand to my face, and your gaze follows it without really thinking. So you don't notice in time when my left hand gets your looped belt from the sink, and casts it over your head and around your neck. I pull it tight and you can't breathe ... although you make some interesting noises trying to.

"Are you going to show me your breasts now?", I ask.

[stupid_girl]

With the belt run through the buckle it is very easy for you to control the tightness you apply to my neck. You start light but quickly pull it tight, not just restricting my breathing, but stopping it all together. You know it's tight enough when my laboured protests go slilent. My mouth moving without words coming out. The only sound I can produce is a soft, wet, clicking sounds as I desperately try to breath. I know you aren't opposed to choking me unconscious and the thought of laying here before you unable to defend myself is overwhelmingly terrifying. God only knows how I could wake up and what you might have done, or be doing to me.

I thrash around, trying desperately to find your face again with my nails but you are ready now. You swat my hands away as though they were nothing more than a pesky fly. Even when one gets by, you simply move your head and you are out of my reach. You can see the fear building quickly in my eyes as my face begins to change colour. My eyes are wide open as they seem to buldge a little. You know it won't be long before I again pass out. You don't want me to be out again, you want to enjoy my struggles, but feel I need to learn the hard way for it to stick.

Feeling everything growing dim on me, and terrified to go out, my thrashing stops and my hands move to my blouse. I fumble with the top button desperately trying to change modes and show you what you want. It seems to take me an eternity to get the first button undone. As I move to the second my head nods just slightly and I know I am just seconds away from falling unconscious again. After fumbling with the second button for only a breif moment I simply grab either side and tear it open. Buttons pop off the shirt and finally my breats are expossed, though hidden beneath a skimpy white lace bra.

You loosen the belt enough for me to get a breath, and I suck in the air as hard as I can. After which, I pant heavily and instinctively trying to get as much oxygen into my lungs as I can. I am barely able to hold myself up and with the loosened hold of the belt you help to keep me upright. After giving me a chance to reasonably catch my breath you inform me that I haven't actually done what I was told yet. "I said I wanted to see your tits, not your tits covered in that bra."

I close my eyes and take another deep breath, this deep. slow and controlled. My hands move behind my back and reluctantly unclasp my bra. I hold it there, tight to my chest between my finger tips for a moment, not wanting to admit to myself that I am going to willing give you what you want. I then release the fabric which falls to the floor by our feet. My eyes are still closed tightly as I try to pretend I am somewhere else, anywhere else. Your eyes wonder over my youthful breasts and a smile spreads across your face.

[pantyhosethief]

That's better. Quite the little minx, aren't you? But you're subdued enough for now, eyes clenched shut, face turned away as if you can deny this is happening. Controlling your struggles was enough for me to begin to get erect again, and the view now is encouraging that. Your breasts are not too big and sweetly rounded, and moving nicely around with the deep breaths you are taking.

I want to touch them, but I think some precaution is in order. Leaving the belt around your neck (it looks good on you), I bend and I pick up your bra, then take both your wrists and use it to tie them together. You struggle a bit at first, but subside almost immediately. I take your hands up above your head, to one side, and tie one of the bra straps around the coat hook. This lifts your breasts further; what a pretty display.

Your nipples are surprisingly large, inviting pink buds. I take one in each hand and play with them, twisting and tugging. You gasp. Stopping for a second, I retrieve your soiled, balled up thong from where I had dropped it on the floor. "Open your mouth," I tell you. You open your eyes, but not your mouth. I take hold of your right breast and twist it as far as I can. Your mouth opens, whether in compliance or protest I don't care; I shove your thong back in. I don't bother with the bandana this time, leaving it around your neck.

Returning to your nipples I flick them, to see if they'll get hard. They don't, but flicking them makes wobble attractively. I move on to slapping your breasts back and forth. "Do you like that?" I ask you, looking up. You shake your head, frantically. I continue to slap until they are quite reddened.

Bending forward, I take your right nipple into my mouth, sucking and biting at it. It feels good, and vulnerable. I move on to your left nipple, licking, nipping and sucking. What's this...? Unless I'm mistaken, your nipples are getting hard for me.

[stupid_girl]

My breasts now ache as I am displayed for you in such a filthy environment. Gagged again, and rendered next to helpless I am at your mercy. The streaks of fresh eyeliner and mascara still very obvious on my face. A look I am digusted with but something you deeply enjoy. Your mouth moves from one nipple to the other as you swirl your tongue and nipple at my nipples. While I am not enjoying that action at all my body makes the natural response and they harden. My left nipple hardening in your mouth.

I hear the moan and the vibrations on my breast that accompany it. I shiver runs the length of my spine that I can not hide which illicits another moan form you. You must know that you are gettng to me now, no matter how much I don't want this. One of your hands comes to my right tit and begins mauling it. There is nothing romantic or caring in your motions. There is no concern past your own enjoyment. Not surprisingly really, they just make me feel less human and more like your toy.

Your other hand moves to my clit and begins roughly circling it. Your fingers pressing hard on it. Cum still seeping out form past my lips just slightly, lubricating that movements of your fingers. I struggle to pull my hands own from the coat hook but the bra has been attatched to it too well. I try to pull my wrists from the ties but they are tied too tightly. It seems the more I pull the tighter it gets and more it hurts. The elastic material of bra now digging in quite harshly into my soft skin.

As you continue that sounds of my muffled voice fill the small restroom. At first you enjoy them, loving the muffled sounds of my protest. But as it continues you can tell that I am slowly working the thong in my mouth furthers and further forward in my mouth. This results in my words being louder and clearer. The threat of me being able to actually scream for help becomes a real possibility. The threat forces you to tear your attention away from the nipple in your mouth and look up at me. Part of the waist band is hanging past my lips and just as I see you look up at me I spit the thong out. My mouth opens wide as I take a deep breath for a loud cry for help.

[pantyhosethief]

I think you're finally beginning to enjoy this. I knew you would eventually, after all, it's what you want all those boys at nightclubs to do isn't it? And you must want your boyfriend to treat you like this, but he doesn't, else why would you go out to clubs like that?

I'm glad you're relaxing. Let me show my appreciation. I'm enjoying your breasts, but generously I take one hand away and put it to your crotch, feeling under your hood for your shy clitoris. I'm sorry it didn't get much attention before, but I was quite eager. Firmly I pleasure you there, and you wriggle about with the sensations. I'm a little concerned, but you can't help your muffled sounds of appreciation, I know. Mmmm .. you taste so good ... and feel so wet ... you are getting a bit loud now. I don't want you to embarass yourself. I glance up to admonish you.

oh christ i think i have made a big mistake

You only scream for about two seconds before I launch myself up at you, clamp my hand around your mouth, pushing you backwards slamming your head back into the wall. But two seconds is a long scream. And so loud.

For what feels like a long time we look at each other, faces only a few inches apart. Your blue eyes were sweetly horrified before - they are defiant now. Even as we wait for the knock on the door, I can't help admiring them, and the way they contrast with your tragic makeup. In a strange way we share this moment. Both waiting.

Nothing happens.

For me the tension breaks and I laugh in relief. I take my hand from your mouth and squeeze your cheeks tightly between thumb and forefinger. "Nice try, girl. You don't quit, do you?". You make some kind of noise. "Now listen, I'm"

*SLAP*

Your head slams back against the wall again, while I pick up your thong. I cram it back where it belongs. This time I pull the bandana up, reach behind your head, pull the knot tight.

"Now don't go anywhere," I tell you, "I'll be back in a few seconds". I stroke your face then turn to the door.

This is stupid, but I've got to check. This musn't look too wierd. I open the door, stagger out... oh, I'm so drunk... I grab a handhold and look blearily around.

No Chinese students. No crowd. They've all gotten off. We're out of the city now, just a couple of stops from the end of the line. There's a couple of kids with headphones plugged in, I can still hear their music. Usually that annoys the hell out of me on public transport, but not today. There's a drunk, slouched over.

Oh, I am still ill. Going to throw up again, I expect. I clutch my stomach theatrically, turn, catch the eye of the businessman in the corner. An older guy, respectable, sharp suit. He's staring at me over his paper. Shit.

He winks. "Is she giving you trouble?" he asks. I say nothing. "Come on lad, I saw you take her in there. She's a hot little piece, isn't she? If I was 20 years younger I'd have done her myself." he says.

"No... no trouble," I say.

"That's the spirit," he says. We're approaching the next-to-last station. He gets up, folds his Times neatly away. "Have a good night kid. Don't get caught." He goes past me, stands by the door. I stare after him as he gets off.

You're waiting for me. I turn and re-enter the cubicle.

[stupid_girl]

While I am dazed, I am still wide-eyed as you actually turn and go out of the restroom. You are more confident that are going to do this to me one way of the other than I could have imagined. I thought that is completely horrifying. I know that ou will do anything you want to me and shy of escaping this forsaken train there is nothing I can do about it. The moment you slip out the door and out into the train my mind wildly begins to race as I despereately try to find a way out of my bonds.

With the bra tied tightly around the hook, looped in a way the prevents it from simply slipping out, I rech out with outstretched arms and fingers. I desperatelty work on the knot but I am clumsy. My hands trembling so hard that I can barely even grip the knot. Every movement is torturous as the elastic material bites harshly into my skin. My efforts brong forth moans and frustrated screams. All muffled by my thong and bandana. Tears now begin to stream down my face as the desperation begins to set it knowing that you won't be gone long. Suddenly I stop.

I hear the man speak to you. You speak back. He knows I am in hear but thinks I wanted to come in hear with you. He thinks I want this. My face turns red with anger and frustration, unable to believe that both these men think that I want to get fuck...raped, in the restroom of a fucking train. The bastard jokes with you and tells you the train is near the end of the line. I try to scream, I desperately try to make it dead obvious that I am victim and that I need help. But the music deafened kids can't hear and the drunk is fucking useless. The man does hear me though, "Sounds like she's getting restless. Might wanna back to that ass."

A though dawns on me suddenly. End of the line? This is a rush hour train and rush hour is just about over. Must trains come out of service near now. There is a good chance this trian will not go back into circulation and dock for the night. Leaving it empty, well almost until tomorrow morning. A pray, even though I do not believe in what I am praying to. Desperation taking over as I pray to God that this train will go back out and please, please oh please oh please...send me help.

[pantyhosethief]

Coming back into the little cubicle, locking the world out again, I get a fresh look at you. So prettily displayed in your makeshift bonds, standing awkwardly legs apart over the toilet, a trickle of fluid down one leg. Jacket askew, blouse damaged where you tore it open, breasts reddened. A bit of saliva runs out from beneath your bandana gag. Your makeup is ruined, but your hair is still nice. Have you moved somehow while I went out? No, I conclude, you're still in exactly the same place.

I pick up your bag and rummage through it. Purse, I'll keep that. Hairbrush, makeup kit, tissues, chick-lit novel. Condoms.

Dirty slut, always ready eh? "We won't need these," I tell you, throwing the little package between your legs into the bowl.

Phone, I'd better hang on to that. Cough sweets, old ticket stubs, balled up pantyhose. I guess you have to wear them for work, hate them, and take them off before you leave. I can't resist having a sniff; love the smell of you on them. I'll keep those.

Driver's license. So that's your name and address? "Miss S----- G---. Pleased to meet you, S-----. Maybe I'll drop by your place sometime," I tell you.

Ah, this is what I was looking for - nail scissors. Dropping your bag, I take the hem of your nice green skirt at the front, and with small snips cut upwards. You flinch when the blades push past your belly as I cut through the waistband. The cloth falls away, and I admire your pubic hair from the front for the first time. Quite extensive. Nice little pot belly, as well, when you stand a bit bent over like this. Next I cut apart the sleeves of your blazer, and then, snipping up the sides of it, make it into three pieces that I pull away. Your lovely sexy elegant suit - destroyed. Our faces are in close proximity while I work on this. Your blouse is flimsy enough for me to finish what you started, tearing it to pieces. I squat down and remove your shoes, placing them on the pile of cloth in the corner. And you are nude.

But not naked, yet. You have a couple of showy rings; grasping your hands firmly I remove the rings and chuck them into the toilet. I wet a scrap of your blouse in the toilet bowl and use it to tenderly clean the makeup from your face, being careful to pull down the bandana to clean your cheeks and lips. "There, no more damaged mascara and smudged lipstick ... you're all pretty again," I tell you, smiling. I study your face. "You know, your makeup makes you look sexy and confident and brassy, but I like you like this, it's more honest... you're no model but you're nice, and now men can see how vulnerable and sensitive you are... you should try wearing less makeup in future."

You stare at me over your gag as I give you this advice. A couple of tears well up and trickle down your cheeks, and I wipe them away.

Just one more thing and you'll be perfect. I reach up and with my left hand grasp your left ear firmly, turning your head a bit to one side. With my right I take hold of your left earring. I fiddle with the clasp a bit, but I can't work it out. Something fancy, not a simple clip. I lose patience - I want you naked now. Realising what I'm about to do you make urgent noises through your gag, and try desperately to shake your head free, but to no avail. Holding your head back against the wall I pull the offending item... not as easy as I thought, but I yank hard and rip it out of your flesh, discarding it into the toilet. And now the left.... there we go.

And you are finally crying. Perfect.

You whimper as I dab the blood from your torn ear lobes with another wet scrap of your blouse. They'll heal in a few weeks, but until then you will look special.

I am hard as a rock again.

[stupid_girl]

With my hands tied I am helpless to keep you from systematically removing my clothes. You take your time, making sure I know how much you are enjoying stripping me down. You moan lightly and smirk a little so that I can see that you enjoy what you are seeing. I can't even pull on the bra straps anymore in an attempt to pull myself free as the elstic material has tightened painfully around my wrists. I whimper as the last shred of clothing is cut away and the pile is topped off with my shoes. I am now completely expossed and vulnerable. Reluctantly forced open to your desires but you still want more.

I watch as you slip my drivers liscence in to your pocket. The idea that you now know where I live is possibly the scariest thing I could imagine right now. I have already decided that I am moving, I will never go there again alone, not even to get my belongings. The condom splashes down in the water, after what you had done with me thus far I wouldn't have expected you to want to use a condom now. You have my cell now, all my contacts, I can't imagine why you would want that and I am scared to know.

You take my three rings, each of which find the bottom of the toilet bowl as well. I don't understand why you needed to take them off, or even why you would try to pawn them if you were going to take them but I look down at the $1000 sitting in the toilet. I squirm and turn my face as you wipe the toilet water soaked shard of my blouse of my face. You clean the messed up make-up from my face as though you cared about me. Each bit of advice you give me cuts through me like a knife, why the hell would I take advice from my rapist? I scream in my head. The screaming is only in my head for a few moments though as you begin fiddling with my earring. I can see you getting frustrated with it and realize what you are going to do just before you do it. With a swift pull I scream into the gag as my ear lobe splits. You do the same with the other ear and the sting radiates.

As the tears roll down my cheeks and begin to again soak the bandana gag pulled tightly between my teeth I can almost feel your intent. I glance down to see that you cock has again hardened and a quick look in your eyes screams out that intend to fill me with it. My chin begn to quiver as I start to mutter and beg into the gag dispite knowing that you won't understand a word of what I have to say. Even if you did...you wouldn't care, or stop. You were going to enjoy me and that was that.

Suddenly, the cell phone you had taken from my purse begins to ring inside your pocket. It takes you a moment to figure it out and it is only my eyes darting in its direction that tips you off. You reach into your pocket and pull my cell out. You look at the call display. "Do you know a Rhiannon?" I nod my head slowly that I do, I close friend. She probably heard that I was coming out tonight and was looking for some details.

[pantyhosethief]

You make various noises behind your gag but at this moment I'm not that interested in hearing you talk. Quickly I kick off my shoes, drop my trousers and shorts, remove my shirt. I leave my white socks on, I can't be bothered to take them off. Taking my time, I ogle you, deciding what to try next. I think I'll

What's that noise?

From your glance down I realise it's your phone, bend down and fish it out of my trouser pocket, check it. "Do you know a Rhiannon?", I ask you. You hesitate; here's a possible chance to get help but... do you want your friends to find out about this? Once they know it'll never be private, you'll never be able to forget about it. But you can't miss this chance! Reluctantly, you nod. I switch it to speakerphone and put it down on the sink.

"Hello," I say.

"Hello... er, sorry, isn't this S-----'s number?". Such a nice, lilting voice. Puzzled.

"Yes."

"Oh, is she there? Can I speak to her?". No question about who I am - I suppose she thinks I'm your boyfriend.

"She's a little tied up right now," I tell her.

You are moaning frantically, mmmmmmmmhhhhh MMMMMMMMMMMMMhhhhh mmmmmmmmmmhhhh, but to no avail.

"Can't I just have a quick word? Only, I was hoping to go out with her later, just wanted to check..."

"I'll see, just a minute," I tell Rhiannon. I put the phone on stand-by, tug down your bandana gag, pull your sopping thong from your mouth. You immediately start to gabble, swearing and pleading at me in equal measure. "Be quiet," I tell you pleasantly, and twist your torn left earlobe until you comply. With my other hand I detach your bra straps from the hook - keeping your wrists bound - then grasping your hair, I step backwards and pull you towards me and down to a kneeling position, scraping your knees on the floor, your ankles on either side of the toilet bowl. "Talk to her. Say what you will, but if I think for a moment that your friend is going to do something silly like go to the police with our location, I'll be very unhappy, and once we reach the end of the line (in only a few minutes, you know) I'll take you to a little place I know and prove it to you. And maybe I'll go and fetch Rhiannon and prove it to her as well. In front of you. So watch your mouth, understand?" You nod. "Very well. You can speak to Rhiannon then... but you will suck me off while you're doing it."

I switch the phone back to live. "Rhiannon? I've told S-----." Looking down at your shocked face, I put myself to your mouth and holding your hair with both hands, push at your lips. You try and turn your head away and your teeth are clenched. Oh well. "Looks like she can't come to the phone, well, I'll -" I say.

Ahhhhh. Reluctantly, you unclench your jaw, and grudgingly take a couple of inches of me into your mouth. So warm and moist, but that's nowhere near enough - I brace your head and thrust hard, until I hit the back of your throat. Out - in - out - in - ignoring the gagging noises you are making. "Oh hang on, she'll just be a sec," I say. "I'm just fucking her face for a moment."

"- what - what did you say? Who is this?" exclaims Rhiannon.

After thirty seconds I pull out, I'll let you speak a few sentences before entering your mouth again.

[stupid_girl]

It is difficult but I can just hear Rhiannon's voice over my own gagging and the wet clicking sound that my throat makes as you cock pops it open and the end of each thrust. I can hear the shock in her voice as you tell her that I'll be a moment as you are fucking my face at the moment. You lie, you're not face fucking me, you're raping my face. A difference evidenced by the tears that have begun again to roll down my face as you violate me. There is silence on the phone, as though she can't believe what you have just told her an is stunned into silence.

You pull out of my mouth and leave the tip of your cock just inches from my face, a thick strand of my saliva hangs from my lips to the end of your cock for a moment before breaking and hanging from my chin instead. I take deep breaths, seeming to gasp for air. I look up at you with the humiliation vivid in my eyes, as though I am waiting for your permission to speak, terrified that there is some catch you are going to punish me on. You simply nod to the phone and I get the point that I am infact actually allowed to speak to her.

"Hi...Rhi. I'm...still not home right now...and I am not really sure I when I am going to be. I'm...not really...giving head right now though...that's, that's just a friend being stupid. I'll..."

My sentence is cut off by your cock forcing back into my mouth, through my lips. My eyes open wide and I gag. The hint of a muffled word escaped before I am completely gagged by your cock. You thrust hard into my mouth, pummeling the back of my throat without and ounce of mercy.

"Hello? Hello...where'd you go?" Rhiannon asks.

"She wasn't lying, she isn't giving head right now. That would imply she had some control. She is getting face fucked...and she doing rather well." You respond.

"Who the hell am I talking to?" she asks with her attitude very clear in her voice.

With that you pull out of my mouth again. The strand of saliva now mixed with precum is thicker and heavier, it is drooled past my lips, down my chin and drop to my breasts. I cough heavily as I try to catch my breath.

"Tell her the truth sweetheart...tell her just how slutty you are." you say just loud enough for Rhiannon to hear.

I look at you at you with pure hatred in my eyes. "I...it's..." I can't bring myself to tell her, I am far too humiliated.

You shake your head and your cock back into my mouth. This time you pull my face over to beside the phone as you rape my mouth. Every gag, moan and gurgle clearly audible for Rhiannon to hear. You thrust into my throat with a force beyond what you had used before, making sure I really felt this. You watched as my stomach wretched, looking like I was going to vomit, my mouth open wide in reflex but your cock acted like a plug and kept it in my throat.

"Oh...my...God...Sherri?" her voice sounding almost excited. "You are a dirty, dirty little girl!"

You laugh a little at her reaction, "You have no...idea...how filthy she really is."

You pull your cock back, but not out of my mouth, just the head is still past my lips, you turn my head to the side and press forward, stretching my cheek to the shape of your cock. The excess saliva in my mouth again running down my chin to my tits and trickling further.

"Say goodbye to Rhiannon now, you have a job to finish." you toy with me, making me talk to her with my mouth full of your cock.

I hesitate, but you grab my earlobe again and make me scream. I am not so silenced by your cock now. I relent and do as I am told.

"ood ye iannon" I mumble through your cock.

Rhiannon laughs out loud at my pathetis response without any idea of what is actually happening to me.

"Wow, call me when you're done being a little slut and we''ll hook up!"