Corrupting Katie Ch 01

Dear diary,

My name is Katie. I just got this diary for my eighteenth birthday. It was a wonderful day. I got to wear a new party dress, all my family was there, and my parents gave me a pass to take the subway train anywhere in the city. This is a big deal for me. My parents have always been super over protective of me. With this train pass I, I can go visit other parts of the city and see my friends from my private Catholic school. I can't wait to take the train home from school tomorrow. I feel like the world has just opened up to me. I have to be careful not to complain about the train. If my parents think I'm in danger, I'll never be allowed to leave the house again! I know there can be dangerous people on the subway, but I have a good head on my shoulders. I just have to watch out for myself.

Dear diary,

I rode the train today. I went from Catholic school to my friend's house. Then from the friend's house back home. It seemed ordinary enough. I sat in an empty seat by the window my first ride. Then a man sat next to me. Ugh...he was fat and smelly and gross...and probably old enough to be my grandfather.

Every time I happened to look at him, he was staring at me. It made me feel very uncomfortable. Also, his hand kept brushing against my leg. It must have happened five or six times. My school skirt is almost knee length, so there wasn't a lot of skin exposed, but each time he would brush by the skin on my knee with the outside of his hand. I could barely stand the musty smell of him! The last thing I wanted was for him to touch me.

When it finally came to my stop, I couldn't wait to get off the train. After spending the afternoon with my friend, I decided to take the train back. I was happy, because I thought there was no chance of running into the fat, smelly, old man. But I was wrong. He came and sat next to me again. I made it a point to not look at him. But this time he put his hand on my knee! At first, I thought it might be a mistake, but after a few seconds I pushed it off. A few seconds later, he put his hand back on my knee. I looked at him and said "Excuse me sir, your hand is on my knee." And I pushed it off again. He didn't reply, and instead put the hand back on my knee. It was so gross! Then I said "Sir, it's just that I don't like your hand on my knee." I pushed the hand off again, but he put it on my knee again.

The whole ride I kept trying to push the hand off, but every time I did it found it's way back to my knee. So, the whole ride I had to endure a hand on my knee from an old many who smelled like sweat, cigarettes, and booze. I wanted to throw up. It finally got to a point where I just ignored the hand and looked out the window. I couldn't believe it, but I had to let this disgusting man put his hand on my knee.

When it was coming up to my stop, he asked me what I name was. I looked at him, and mumbled that my name was Katie. He told me that Katie was a beautiful name. I thanked him under my breath. Then he asked me how old I was and I told him my eighteenth birthday was yesterday. He patted my knee and told me happy birthday. Then he thanked me for letting him rest his hand on my soft beautiful knees, and that he couldn't wait to see me tomorrow. With that, he gave my knee another pat and got off the train. I couldn't believe it!

Dear diary,

I ran into the fat old man again on my way to school. He walked right up to where I was sitting and said "Good morning, Katie. You look lovely today. That braid in your hair looks beautiful." He sat down beside me and put his hand on my knee. I knew there was no way to stop him, so I simply looked out the window while his hand was on my knee. After a while his hand began to traipse over my leg a little bit. I hated it. It felt so gross. But then his hand touched my thigh under my skirt! I gasped and looked at him and told him that it was very inappropriate for his hand to go under the skirt of a young lady.

He chuckled and said "You're right, of course. Here. There's an easy fix for that." Then he used two hands to ease the hem of my skirt higher up my leg!

I demanded that he tell me what he was doing.

He replied that now he could rest his hand on my soft creamy thigh without his hand being inside my skirt. Then he put his hand on my thigh about halfway between my knee and my hip, stroking my leg gently for the rest of the ride. I kept my hands on the hem of my skirt to keep him from touching any higher. I just wanted it to stop.

When it came to his stop, he took his hand off of my thigh and told me that this was his stop and thanked me for letting him touch my soft beautiful legs.

I mumbled a quick 'you're welcome' and then he had the audacity to kiss me on the cheek before telling me he would see me after school! I couldn't believe it, after touching my leg for twenty minutes he gave me a kiss on my cheek! I immediately tugged the hem of my skirt back down to my knees and sighed sadly. I certainly couldn't report it, or I wouldn't be allowed to take the train to see my friends anymore.

After school he found me once again and sat beside me. This time I didn't acknowledge him and kept a hand on the hem of my skirt. He took my hand by the wrist and put it on his thigh while he hiked up my skirt like before. I recoiled and he laughed jovially while he began stroking my thigh again.

I looked at him and told him that I really didn't think it was appropriate for him to be touching my legs. I told him that I was a devout Catholic and I really prioritized my purity as a lady.

He told me that it really didn't bother him, and that I shouldn't worry about his erection because he would take care of it when he got home. Then I looked down and realized that he had an erection under his pants! Then he had the audacity to tell me that it would be more convenient for both of us if I would hike my skirt up when I sat down on the train. That way I wouldn't get embarrassed from him pulling up my skirt, and he could touch my soft little thigh as he pleased. I couldn't believe my ears!

Then he told me that if I was the one who hiked up my skirt, there was also less of a chance that he would accidently see my adorable little panties. The nerve! I don't want some old man talking about my underwear! He made a good point, though. I definitely don't want him to see my underwear when he pulls up my skirt. He stroked my thigh for the entirety of the train ride while I kept my hands on the hem of my skirt so he couldn't push it any higher. When it was time to him to get off, he pushed my hair out of my face and kissed my cheek. Then he thanked me for letting him touch my beautiful legs and told me he'd see me tomorrow. I really hate that! I don't like it when he touches my legs and I certainly don't want it to keep happening. Oh diary...what do I do?

Dear diary,

I thought I had figured out a way to avoid the old man. I decided to stand up for the entirety of the train ride. It was a disaster. I decided to stand in the center of the car. The train car didn't seem to be very crowded when I first got on, but after I had been on for a few moments it seemed to be wall to wall people! I was squished in a sea of people and someone's brief case kept hitting against my butt. I kept trying to push the brief case away, but then a familiar voice seemed to whisper in my ear "Don't worry Katie, I'll keep the brief case off your ass." Then he pushed the briefcase away and rested his hand on my butt.

I told him he didn't need to rest his hand there.

He said it would protect me from briefcases bumping into it, and further said that it was no trouble and he liked having his hand on a firm taut ass like mine. I groaned. I couldn't believe he was touching my legs yesterday and now his hand was on my butt. When it was time for me to get off, he gave my butt a squeeze and kissed me on the cheek again before telling me he was looking forward to sitting next to be after school.

When it was time to go home from school, I knew I didn't want him putting his hands on my bottom, so I sat in my usual seat by the window. When he sat beside me, I told him to hang on a second and pulled my skirt up my thighs.

He smiled at me and told me I was a good girl. I grimaced at him. I wasn't doing it because I liked him touching my thighs. I really did want him to stop, but I had no choice. He spent the train ride stroking my thigh (as usual), but this time he spent the train ride telling me how beautiful I was.

He asked me if I had a boyfriend.

I told him I didn't while I nervously watched him touch my legs. His questions got more personal then.

He asked me if I'd ever kissed someone.

I told him I was eighteen, of course I had.

Then he asked me if any of those guys had ever put their tongues in my mouth!

I told him that was disgusting!

He then asked me if anyone had touched my sweet little titties.

I told him that I don't let boys touch my breasts, that I'm waiting for my wedding night.

He then pointed out that I let him touch my legs as much as he likes. I hung my head in shame. He told me I should let guys touch my titties. Maybe it will help them grow. He asked me how big they were.

I told him I was a B cup and that they don't need any help. He took his hand off my thigh and gave a sigh of relief...until he began unbuttoning my uniform blazer! I shrieked and asked him what he thought he was doing!

He stated simply that he wanted a better look at my...my titties before he got off the train.

I told him he wasn't to touch me or my blouse. He agreed and opened up the blazer. The whole rest of the ride he touched my thighs and told me how cute my little titties looked. I wanted to die of embarrassment!

Dear diary

Oh...things are getting out of hand. The fat old man came and sat next to me on my way to school today. I obediently tugged my skirt up my legs and he began touching my thighs. He told me I was such a good girl for pulling my skirt up, and how it really made touching my soft silky legs much easier. He said he wished all girls were just like me. Then he looked again and told me I had forgotten to unbutton my blazer.

I started to tell him that I didn't want to unbutton my blazer, but before I could get a word in, his fingers had it unbuttoned and opened! I groaned, wondering how my day could get any worse. He began stroking my thigh.

He told me I was such a beautiful woman, with slender athletic legs and beautiful little titties. I wanted to die. Here was a fat gross old man, who sat next to me every day and touched my legs as much as he wanted, and commented about how pretty I was and how much he liked my legs, all while smelling like gin and cigarettes. Then he kissed my neck! I pushed him off me and demanded he tell me what he was doing.

He looked as though I had done something wrong, all the time stroking my thigh. He explained that he thought it was okay if I kissed her because he kissed my cheek every day. Then he resumed kissing me. I tried to squirm away, but it was no use. He kissed my neck and nibbled on my ear lobe. My skin was crawling as I tried to get away from him. Then he took it even further. He put his hand under my skirt again! I opened my mouth to object, but then I remembered that the last time I complained about a hand under my skirt he simply made me pull my skirt up my thighs.

All I could do was sit and endure it. When it came time for him to get off the train, he patted my thigh lovingly and said he couldn't wait to see me after school. Then he gave me a kiss on my forehead and left. I felt so dirty as I buttoned my blazer and tugged my skirt down.

After school, I sat down next to the window again. I tried not to cry as the fat old man sat beside me. He smiled brightly and told me I looked beautiful today. I nodded and unbuttoned my blazer, then tugged up my skirt. He told me he noticed how uncomfortable I was when his hand 'accidentally' went up my skirt this morning. I looked at him hopefully, wondering if that meant he was going to stop.

The he used his hand to tug my skirt up even higher. I gasped. The hem of my skirt was now just below the crotch of my underwear. I objected, of course.

He then stated that this would ensure he didn't accidentally put his hand under my skirt and therefor was more respectful of me as a lady.

I interjected that I was a little worried his hand my brush up against my underwear, but he laughed the whole thing off. At that moment he began stroking my thigh, now even higher, and nibbling my earlobe.

After ten or so minutes of this and me looking out the window pretending I was somewhere else, he brought a hand across my body and placed it on the window. The hand brushed against my breast. He cleaned a smudge off the window, announced it was cleaning the smudge than made him do it, then placed his hand back on my thigh...after brushing it across my breast again.

This was too much! I opened my mouth to object, but then he placed his lips on mine and kissed me! He then said that we were at his stop and abruptly left.

Oh diary, this gross old man is touching my legs! He felt my breast! He nibbles my ears and kisses me! I don't know what to do!