(This story is a companion piece to others on this site. The character of Trish has appeared before in "Her Hottest Halloween", and "The Hills Are Alive". Her sexcapades continue once more.)
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Always on the lookout for inspiration for her sexual adventures Trish Stark was seeking a new way to push her inner boundaries. Something risky, risqué, and an adventure that would push her hard up against the wall of her Self Control.
It was a rare day that Trish ever saw television, it simply wasn't part of her life in any meaningful way, but on one of the rare occasions when she was near a T.V. she saw an amazing video for a wonderful song; Madness by the British band Muse.
It was sexy in a strange way and she filed it away knowing at some point the idea of public sex on a train platform might be possible.
What she didn't know was that within months of seeing the video she would re-create it even closer than she could imagine.
Trish was getting horny, her body itching for some hard use, her mind clawing for a way to test her will-power and push her spiritual limits. She needed an adventure. It had been weeks since she's had sex and this self-imposed celibacy was growing dull.
Incidentally Trish also absorbed the idea that a big protest was brewing in her town. It was to protest the human rights abuses going on in Russia against LGBT people. The big G20 summit was happening in Russia and the world was gearing up to make a lot of noise and try to get world leaders to discuss the abuses while in the very country doing the abusing.
Trish was in no way a political person, but even she felt what was going on in Russia was horrible and the idea of the protest garnered her attention.
Then the penny dropped.
There was going to be some heated protesting going on. People were going to be on both sides of the debate and there was bound to be some anger, and perhaps even some violence.
The video she had watched showed a couple kissing and groping during a riot and it was that visceral, human sexual response to violence that had gotten her excited about the video. Could she find a way to recreate that experience for herself?
Did she dare try and seduce a protesting man in the midst of a potentially violent encounter, with police all around.
She was Trish Stark. Of course she dared.
This challenge to her Self Control and the mastery of fear wouldn't take much planning, just a few simple props, but the event itself would be as challenging and as dangerous as anything she had yet tried. Just thinking about it made her as horny as anything she had done before.
The day of the protest, September 3, the day before the summit in Russia, finally arrived and Trish had booked the day off work, and skipped school, as had many of her colleagues.
Dressed as much like the woman from the video as she could Trish wore a black two button blazer, no shirt or bra under it, her small firm breasts peeking out from beneath the lapels as she moved. Beneath she wore a tiny, stretchy, black skirt that was shorter in the hem than the blazer. From any distance other than immediately next to her she looked nude under the jacket, and looking at herself in the mirror before she left had made her feel sexy and slippery between the legs.
On her feet she wore utterly impractical high heeled shoes. They added three inches to her five foot five height and without her years of dance training, and proficiency in martial arts she would have toppled over trying to walk in three inch heels.
To hide her identity, thus separating her regular life from the sexual adventurer she was in her spare time, she wore a long brown wig over her light blonde hair. The wig was loose and natural looking. Trish spent money on her disguises, her anonymity precious to her.
To cover her face she painted her skin to look like a little girl's doll, giving her a creepy, hyper-sexualized dolly look that was actually pretty disturbing. Trish was very good with make-up and the porcelain kewpie doll make-up was very well done, but still somewhat off-putting none-the less.
Thusly attired she made her way to the afternoon protest.
She drove there, parking a few blocks from the protest, near a subway station in case she needed a quick escape. She rode the train the two stops to the protest location outside the Russian consulate.
The train was full. Many of the other passengers were clearly headed to the protest as well, as indicated by their choice of clothes. There were a lot of men dressed in camouflage, and heavier, thicker clothes than this time of year would necessitate, and there were a plethora of backpacks with Peace signs.
The looks she got were amusing to say the least. She could see that most people were immediately drawn to her exposed skin. Her bare legs looked great, as they should, given how much work she put into looking her best physically, but her bare chest peeking from beneath the lapels of her blazer drew the most attention. Her slim build meant that any movement exposed at least one pink nipple to the eyes of someone on the train.
However as soon as they noticed her odd face, the heavy cutsie make-up obscuring her features they began to look confused.
Before anyone could approach and ask what she was doing the train arrived at the proper stop. Excited people disembarked and in the press of bodies Trish felt a few hands brush her legs and bum as men used the close quarters to press against her unnecessarily.
It got her excited having all these men touching her and looking down her jacket to see her breasts.
Everything was going perfectly.
As the crowd climbed the stairs and began to leave the subway station Trish found more space around her, and she took a good look around the street where the protest was happening.
The crowd was big, but not huge. Perhaps two thousand people, mostly young, wearing things ranging from Anonymous Masks, Ski Hats with face-masks, and gas masks, to simple t-shirts and jeans. Some protesters clearly thought things were going to get violent, yet most seemed calm and peaceful hippies.
Trish was also not the only person dressed in a costume. There were many painted faces, some Styrofoam statues of Lady Liberty, and angels and even a Gumby.
There were brightly painted signs both for and against homosexuality and freedom to marry and all the hot button topics around LGBT groups. The atmosphere was loud and excited. Everywhere she looked there were policemen dressed in riot gear.
No matter what, this was going to be an interesting day.
For the next half an hour Trish wandered amid the crowd looking at the various men there appreciatively. And they in return ogled her back.
All the political tension was building between a group of anti-gay bigots and some trouble-making young men dressed for war. They yelled back and forth and the speeches planned for today were being drowned out by the name-calling and slogans being chanted.
Relishing the challenge of distracting some of these polarized people Trish moved in and out of the milling mob getting herself seen.
There were a few men in the Warriors group that seemed very interested in her. There was more than one man in a gas mask, or balaclava who broke off chanting, or waving signs to stare at her as she strolled by.
All Trish was trying to do is get into their heads. She didn't know how she would do it, but she needed to separate a few of these guys from the herd in order to get properly fucked by them out in public. Her plan only covered being seen and then luring a few guys away and having a blast. She wanted risky public sex, not a certain arrest.
The situation, however, took a turn when some of the anit-gay bigots began to howl curses at her, calling her a slut, a Jezebel, a harlot and generally targeting her for hatred given how much she excited their poor little animal brains.
Trish was momentarily confused. She hadn't been paying any attention to the other line of protesters and now that they were targeting her she was the centre of attention.
The militant protesters began to defend her and scream back.
Then objects began getting thrown and in moments a physical altercation took place between a small group of sign waving zealots on both sides.
Trish was almost overrun as the crowds of opposing sides drew together to hurl insults, fruit, rocks and even themselves at each other. A young man of the Religious Right grabbed her arm tightly, as if he were going to make a citizen's arrest.
Instinct kicked in and Trish immediately twisted his hold into a hold of her own, and applied enough pressure that she brought him to his knees in an arm bar as she neatly stepped behind him. He howled in pain and fear drawing the attention of his friends.
Suddenly Trish was surrounded by screaming people, some of whom tried to grab her. Letting go of the first assailant Trish ducked and weaved attempting to escape the ring of people trying to contain her. Hands reached for her and tried to restrain her and she used her martial art training to bat away their attempts.
Just as she pushed past the last ineffectual clutch at her jacket, a collection of gas-mask wearing men arrived and began punching the religious protesters and driving them back and down.
One gas mask wearer stood apart, his body rigid with tension, but clearly he wanted to be involved somehow.
Trish reached for and took his hand seeing the first opportunity to cull from the herd.
Even as her heart raced, and her body heated with fear, she still held firm to her plan of getting fucked by at least one anonymous man during this protest.
Leading him away she glanced at him trying to determine as many detail about him as she could.
He was young, judging by his dress, and the little of his face she could see through the mask was all eyes, wide with fear and surprise. His skin was all covered so she assumed he had planned on getting into some kind of fight, but he hadn't, so maybe he was new to this level of militant protest.
