Ashley's Commute

This is a short interlude before the next installment of the Chloe story. It's a bit darker, hence the category, but includes similar themes. I might write a series of shorts like this if people like it.

Ashley fidg¬eted on the train platform. She could feel eyes crawling over her leaving slimy trails of goosebumps over her skin. It was a week into her job an she definitely did not feel like things were going well.

She had been hired up as an intern at an advertising firm. This meant she brought the secretary coffee at minimum wage. Not great by a long shot but work was work and jobs were scarce.

Things had looked brighter when she heard about the clothing allowance. Mrs. West, her boss, Mr. Chin's secretary, had explained that the company traded in good taste and because it traded in good taste, it ensured all employees adhered to a particular look by requiring them to shop at a particular store.

Dutifully, Ashley had spent her clothing allowance at the store's website. She had gotten a huge surprise when she got her order as the clothes she got looked completely different from the ones she ordered. When she spoke with Mrs. West about it, Mrs. West had pulled up her order confirmation to show her that there had been no mistake.

She held tightly to the bar above her in the subway working her calves to keep her balance on her tall, white stiletto heels, strappy white minimalist sandals suitable for the summer weather but for the six inch heels forcing even the toes of her little feet to rest at a steep angle to the floor. They were definitely not what she had expected.

A man's coarse trousers pressed into the lower slope of her bare butt and she felt her hips push forward towards a man sitting in front of her. Ashley forced her gaze upward to avoid eye contact with whoever was looking up at her, knowing he had a clear view of her bald pussy.

Among her surprises upon opening the packages of clothes from the company's clothing store was finding no underwear. Again, Mrs. West had checked the order and confirmed that no, Ashley had not in fact selected any. Just stockings. The ones she had on were sheer white with big frilly tops that tickled the bottom of her vulva.

The stranger's hand rested on the tan skin just above those frilly tops and pressed in under her five inch skirt.

Any long stride exposed her completely with the nerve wracking garment. Just standing was enough to show her goods to anyone near eye level to her crotch. Fortunately this little skirt had stiff elastic stays that kept it tight on her body and prevented the material from riding up. She didn't want to think about how she would manage with the even shorter ones she'd be wearing later in the week.

Making matters worse. Mrs. West had relayed to her Mr. Chin's complements on her wardrobe choices and his decision that her current look worked great for promoting the company's current image. With one exception that led to a painful memory Ashley knew would stick with her.

Mr. Chin didn't like that "mess down there" and had requested a "consistently clean, smooth look". Ever the efficient secretary, Mrs. West had booked her for an appointment the very same afternoon and had even checked in to make sure the laser had thoroughly depilated her from anus to navel.

What recourse did she have? They were well within their rights under the employment agreement to govern her appearance and there were zero other jobs. Even if there were, the displeasure of Mr. Chin would surely go a long way in keeping her unemployed and destitute.

The man behind her tired of rubbing her thigh and started sliding his hand forward under the tight black material. With a hand above her and her other holding her purse, Ashley couldn't do anything more than press her thighs together. She pressed her eyes closed to block out the looks and think herself away from being felt up by the pervert. The feel of her short hair brushing her ear brought another distraction, also unpleasant.

Ashley had grown out her hair for as long as she could remember. Blonde and straight, it was her most cherished inheritance from her deceased mother. Mrs. West had suggested, and Mr. Chin had agreed, that it would look magnificent cut short and dyed to promote a client's brand at an upcoming conference.

A tear made its way down her cheek as she thought about losing her long blond hair to a short purple bob cut to trace the slope of her jaw to her chin.

Ashley pressed her purse down onto the hand now pushing two digits into her vagina to have it brought up to her bare belly by the stranger's left arm snaking its way around her. The man, filthier than most commuters and burly, especially compared to her small frame, 100 even and just clearing five feet, was doing a good job pulling her out of her revery into his own nasty reality.

Emboldened by his move, the stranger curled into her, pushing his left hand up onto her right breast, the top openly inviting his attention.

She wore a halter made of a stiff wire that curled around the back of her neck and draped between and around each breast, holding them up and pushing them apart slightly, leaving a patch of bare skin between and making her E cups that much more pronounced. Frilly material matching her stocking tops sprouted between her tits and followed the wire up to form a high, frilly collar that brushed up against the edge of her hair at the base of her skull. An open line of tanned naked skin stretched from her neck to the low low top of her stretchy microskirt.

A thin lace covered the bottom half of each cup and her small pert nipples, pink naturally but now dyed purple to match her hair, were only partially obscured by the pattern, with quarter moons of her areolae cresting over the top.

The man's shirt rubbing over her back was one more reminder of her exposure. There was no part of her top going behind her back. The minimal garment ended after wrapping her breasts.

The man slipped a hand up to her half covered right tit and gave her a slow squeeze. He slid two fingers under the lace to pinch her purple nub. Ashley squealed. She reached up reflexively and dropped her purse, the contents spilling out across the dirty floor of the subway train.

Ashley stared down feeling more helpless now. If she got down to gather everything she'd stain her white stockings, and Mrs. West had made it abundantly clear that it was imperative for her to look immaculately crisp and clean.

"I got that for you."

The voice of the old man in front of her snapped her to the realization that there were others in the subway car with her. He looked up at her with kindly wrinkled eyes as he steadied herself with his hand on her silk clad knee to fumble around for the contents of her matching lacy purse.

Ashley bent over reflexively, embarrassed about causing an old man to strain himself for her and felt pressure increase inside her bum. The man behind her was quick to take the opportunity to shift his hands to her fully exposed ass and press his fingers up towards her asshole. He was momentarily surprised by the large, clear plug jammed into her colon but didn't hesitate to press his thumbs against it.

On her meager pay and faced with a hefty debt from college, Ashley had found it difficult to find a room in or even near her job. She had ultimately resigned herself to searching among the "special arrangements" listed on craigslist.

The one she found seemed the best at the time. A man in his 40's had lost his family in an accident and was offering the nursery in his small apartment at a quarter of the usual rate, mainly to regain some companionship. The place was in a seedy part of town but it was a short ride from work, so she took it.

Immediately she started having second thoughts.

The nursery she had rented was a pink room 4 feet deep and 7 wide, with no window or door. It was actually an alcove opening to the hallway adapted from a walk-in closet. Her belongings all had to go in her landlord's room.

A few days in, after seeing how she dressed for work (and due to pressure from Mrs. West, increasingly outside of work), he made certain assumptions about her that pushed him to certain expectations.

He made it clear that he expected a certain amount of skin on show around the house, too. It creeped Ashely out that he blatantly wanted to look at her like an old lecher, but she didn't want to make a fuss. She was barely paying anything for a place to sleep in the city, she couldn't afford anything else, and she told herself she could live with being looked at a little.

Then the touching had started. One day he had patted her thong covered ass when she was on her way to the living room to exercise to her aerobics tape, and it had grown from there. He would slide a hand under a crop top or put his hand high up on her bare thigh when they were watching TV. Each time he took it further and it hadn't taken him long to openly stroke her pussy, slipping fingers inside her casually on the couch.

"If you don't like it you can leave."

Work had gotten busy quickly and she was always drained by the time she came home. She remembered the day she'd caught him jerking off to porn on the couch. He'd leered up at her and kept right on at it. When he had shown up by her bed with his sticky fingers, he'd shoved them right up to her face. Ashley had turned away and tried to lose herself in her headphones but he'd pressed on with a big smile plastered to his face.

"Do it or you can pack your bags now!"

Tears had rolled down her cheeks as she turned back up to him and reluctantly opened her mouth, letting him shove his jizzed up fingers into her mouth while his right hand groped her naked pussy left uncovered by a tiny diaphanous babydoll he made her wear to bed. She had almost wretched.

"Keep sucking it clean...."

That morning she'd been wearing a small pinafore as she made him pancakes. Her back was naked to the room and he had walked right up behind her and pushed her up against the stove.

"Shh... keep cooking"

He had mauled her tits, his right hand down below at the juncture of her legs. He dragged to fingers up, wet with some warm, sticky substance, and started teasing her asshole. Slowly, he wiggled his way in, making Ashley squirm against the warm surface, trying to keep her focus on the pancakes sizzling on the big skillet in front of her.

He reached up for a second, putting his fingers to her lips. Ashley knew better than to argue and parted her full lips to suck him in. She fought back a gag. Mixed with the sweet taste of syrup was the bitter flavor of her own ass.

He grabbed something from the table behind him and pressed it up against her rear opening. Fuck it was wide, wider than his fingers. He kept pushing. It felt endless and just kept expanding. Ashley let go of the skillet to keep it from rattling and gripped the sides of the stove tightly. The plug got wider and then popped in, trapping itself inside her.

"That's a good girl. We're going to widen that tight little opening of yours, so you go ahead and keep that in there for the rest of the day. But right now just go ahead and finish up those pancakes for me."

He had watched her getting dressed in his room, as usual, and as usual he had picked out her clothes. Ashley could feel the wet cum on the inside of her skirt, right over her pussy, from when he had jerked off into them in front of her. The wet spot was visible from the front. He had asked her to kiss him good luck for the day and had practically devoured her mouth, shoving his tongue inside and getting a good grope on her ass. He had made sure to give her a good goose right on the plug as she made her way out on her excessively high heels.

The man behind her on the subway was now working the plug, pushing up and forcing her to stand with her legs straight as Ashley struggled bent over to hold onto the pole next to the old man and keep her balance. The old man focused on stooping beneath her to grab up her belongings.

The train started pulling to a stop, making her stagger sideway into the arm of the pervert holding her. People started pressing out in the tightly packed car, pushing her towards the exit. Away from her purse!

She looked desperately at the old man as people started pushing in between them. The old man looked up at her with a shy smile and reached out to give her something. her purse remaining on his lap. Ashley's hand met his at the very last moment.

"I'll see you tonight, Kimmi."

Ashley stumbled her way onto the subway platform and put the lanyard around her neck. When she'd moved to the city, Chin Branding had registered her for a work visa and filled out all the employment and immigration papers she would need. The short lanyard carried a laminated 3" x 5" card just beneath her collarbone with a picture of her standing naked in black heels and purple hair, shoulders back and hands to her sides. Above the picture, big black letters spelled out, "KIMMI CHIN".

Copyright 2010 by mchucha / mamachucha