Written by city_executives
30 May 2014
Emma’s journey to work…
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10 minute read
My name is Emma. It’s Tuesday morning. I am one of the many thousands of people who commute to London every day by train. Every day is the same. Every day you see the same faces on the platform. You get on the same carriage with the same people. No one talks, you might get the occasional nod of acknowledgement.
My husband says I look like Louis Litt's girlfriend from Suits. Today I am wearing a white blouse, pencil skirt and killer heels. Today it’s raining so I am wearing a rain coat. Boy is it raining. The trains are always busier when it rains. There is a station announcement saying today due to technical problems there is a reduced service and fewer carriages. There is a groan like a Mexican wave down the platform.
The train arrives and I get on with the usual suspects quickly removing my coat. 5 older man always stand next to me or around me. They don’t talk they don’t know each other. They are pervs. They take very opportunity to jostle me, rub up against me and look down my top. I am certain that phone man pretends to text and takes pictures of my cleavage. Today it’s packed I am squashed between them and can’t move. I can’t even read my book there is no room. Newspaper man gets out his paper. You have to be kidding me. He is a master in newspaper origami. Folding it this way and that so he can read sections at a time in a small space. That said it’s now in my face. His origami sometimes involves accidentally catching my nipples with his paper or staring at my breasts hiding behind his paper.
Sometimes the men get really brave and pretend they have no choice but to push up hard against me. My defence strategy is to accidently stand on their foot with my high heeled shoes. Once I even think one of them (I call him lurch) had a hard on while looking down my top from behind and tried to rub it discreetly on my bottom. I accidentally rammed my briefcase into his groin when I got off. I apologised profusely but think he got the message. I also share the tube with them as well. I’ve told my husband and he thinks it’s amusing. He calls it my daily gauntlet.
He is away on business, he’s always.
When he’s away we play a game. He texts me an erotic story and stops and I have to say what happens next and text it back and so it goes on. We started one last night. It’s about my 5 pervs on the train.
5 minutes pass. I can’t read my book. I am bored. I try to squeeze down between them to get my blackberry from briefcase propped between my legs. They don’t move. My hand is now fishing in my briefcase and newspaperman’s crutch is in my face. I’ve got it. I slither back up between them.
I discreetly read last night’s text on my blackberry. I am squashed so it is close to my face. As I start to read it I feel like a naughty school girl. I start to get lost in the story. The story so far starts similar to today but in the story each day they have got braver, it’s now Friday and they have surrounded me on the crowded train and are feeling my bottom, they are putting their hands up my skirt and trying to get into my knickers. I am helpless. Lurch has just slipper a finger into my pussy. My pussy is soaking wet. More passengers get on I an jostled around and now its the turn of newspaper man. The others flank me and look on. I am enjoying the excitement. Now it’s my turn to write what happens next. I am in another world. Thinking of the possibilities……
Back to here and now. More passengers get on. Lurch pushes against me hard. Fuck! He has a massive erection. I move my foot and try to stand on his toe. He moves his foot just in time. I can see his face in the glass reflection on my blackberry. SHIT! SHIT! He was reading my text story over my shoulder. SHIT!
He slowly starts to rub his erection against my bottom as the train moves from side to side. I try to shuffle away but newspaper man won’t budge. He’s looking down my chest under his newspaper. Lurch is fumbling in his trouser pocket. He starts to feel my bottom through his pocket. I am sure phone man is smirking. Yes I think it’s his hand. He is now trying to run his hand between my bottom checks. What can I do? Do I make scene. Frozen I do nothing. I think he thinks I am ok with this. I haven’t said anything. Hand out of his pocket now he is feeling my bottom. I clench my bottom together. The two men either side close in as the train jostles. Phone man is texting. The light is flashing on the front of his phone. I am surrounded by them like in the story. I have to do something. He is now lifting the hem of my short skirt. The train jerks and his hand goes straight between my legs. He’s feeling my wet knickers. They are really wet. I haven’t moved. He is now trying to slip a finger in my pussy. I am now confused between the story and reality. This is real! I have to do something. I put my hand behind me to push his hand away but catch his erection instead. He takes this as a sign and forces a finger into my pussy. I jump.
He starts roughly twirling it around. This is all wrong but my body is excited. My nipples are hard. Why haven’t I stopped him? I could turn around a slap him. Newspaper man rubs my hard nipples with the corner of his newspaper. He is smirking. All five men are now looking at me. Lurch bends down a little pretending to try and reach his briefcase on the floor and takes out his finger out. I catch my breath. He then rams three fingers into me. I let out loud noise somewhere between a shriek and a moan. Someone sitting down across from me looks up from his newspaper. He roughly fucks me with his fingers. I can hear my pussy making slurping noises. We are coming into the London platform. He stops. All 5 men are composed as if nothing has happened. I am a wreck. I am shaking. Why didn’t I stop him?
The doors open and I rush for the exit. Forcing my way through. I walk as fast as I can trough the ticket barrier to the tube. My heart is beating so hard I think my head is going to explode.
I stand on the platform waiting, I have 7 minutes to the next one.
I see the men come down onto the platform. I walk further down. They are in a huddle talking. They never talk, they don’t know each other. Lurch is laughing. Phone man gets out his phone from his pocket. He is showing them something. FUCK! He took pictures. His phone was flashing on the train. FUCK! He filmed it. I almost pass out.
My heart racing. Did I lead them on? I should have tried harder to stop it. Did I actually enjoy it? It that why I didn’t stop it. I suddenly feel a gush of warmth between my legs. FUCK! FUCK! I enjoyed it. I am ashamed.
I get to work all of a fluster. Straight into a meeting. Out of that and into the next. Before I know it it’s time to leave. This morning seems so long ago and the incident almost a dream. I leave for the tube almost forgetting about what had happened.
I spy phone man going down the steps to the underground. Suddenly everything is real again. I keep well back. I get to the ticket barrier. He is nowhere to be seen. At the barrier I turn around, he is directly behind me. My hands are shaking as I put in my ticket. It comes out again. He bumps into me. I try again. It works. I almost run to the tube.
I go way down the platform, not my normal spot. I get to Paddington and decide to get a coffee and take a later train. I return home to an empty house. Bag, keys on the side and start making something to eat. Anything to distract me. I need to confront this. I am eating at the breakfast bar and my blackberry buzzes. Its hubby calling from his hotel. I am about to answer it when I see something tucked in the top of my bag. It’s an envelope. I don’t answer my phone. I sit there staring at it. Now the house phone rings. I ignore it. With shaking hands I open it. Its photographs. Its screen captures of me on the train. No faces except mine. My face looks wanton. Pictures of hand’s on my bottom, up my skirt. FUCK! The next one of wet fingers. I am shaking uncontrollably. The last one shocks me. It’s a picture of me going into my office building. On the back of the photo is says…
“YOU LOVED IT” “ YOU COULD HAVE STOPPED IT AT ANY TIME BUT YOU DIDN’T” “TOMORROW WE ALL WANT A GO” “WE’LL PASS YOU AROUND BETWEEN US” “MAYBE YOU FANCY GETTING FUCKED IN THE DISBALE LOO” “SEE YOU TOMORROW”
I read it again in disbelief. My lawyer’s brain kicks in. This is blackmail. What happened on the train was assault. Numb I sit there.
20 minutes pass. I can’t prove assault. My husband must never know he will kill them all. Work can never see these pictures I will lose my job. Secretly I think I enjoyed it. I start to get wet knickers. Oh what have I done? I must deal with this. I collect myself and call my husband back as if nothing has happened. Relieved the call is over I go for a soak in the bath. My legal brain kick’s in. I have a plan. I get out of the bath a get my laptop.
The plan isn’t a good one and they may never agree to it but the alternative is worse. They sign my first document saying that they assaulted me on the train. They have to provide evidence of where they live and sign and date it. I start the second document. It’s simple. In exchanged for signing this document they can have me for one night and one night only. After which they will never touch me again. If they do I will take them to court using the first document and they my face a prison sentence.
It’s now late. I print out both documents and go to sleep.
I wake. Go to the station as normal. I thrust both documents to phone man as he stands on the platform as if I’m issuing a summons. He looks shocked and startled.
I get on the train on a different carriage. I can see them in the next carriage reading my document and passing it around. They look shocked.
We get off at Paddington and get to the tube platform. They huddle again and they are talking with raised voices. Phone man approaches me. “4 out of 5 of us agree one doesn’t” I say to him “all or nothing”.
He goes back to the other men. One man throws his hands in the air. They huddle. He nods. Phone man comes back to me. We agree. This Thursday we pick the pace. I say “OK”. I feel triumphant, but what have I just agreed to? My husband’s away until the end of the week and he will never know. I can protect him from this. My knickers are really wet. I think I am secretly looking forward to it.
Would anyone like to suggest what they might have planned for me before I write the next chapter?