The Train

You're standing on the crowded train, tired after a long day in a long week in a long year. You're counting down the exits until the train drops you off a few blocks from home. The number is large and falling very slowly.

The motion of the train jostles you back and forth, as does the movement of people behind you. You just want to get home and relax.

You feel a man move behind you and stop. You don't know how, but you can feel his body almost but not quite touching yours. He towers over you, his broad shoulders even with the top of your head. Somehow you know this.

He touches your shoulder as if he is trying to squeeze by you, but after a pause of a few seconds, his hand slides down your back and over to your hip.

You're frozen with what you tell yourself is fear. "Is this your stop?" he whispers in your ear. You only barely manage to shake your head no.

"It is now," he says in a cold, casual voice as the train sheds speed, approaching its next stop, still several dozen from the one you had thought was yours.

You get off the train, and he follows close behind you. When the train continues its journey down the tracks, he grabs your arm.

He isn't hurting you, but the strength of his grip makes it clear to you that he very easily could. He could crush your forearm with ease if he wishes to, and you think that he would if provoked.

You are walking in front of him, but he is leading you. Every block or so, an article of your clothing finds itself on the sidewalk behind you.

First your shirt. Then your pants. How did he get you out of them? You don't know. You can't remember how any of it happened.

Then your bra. Then your panties. You know there are people around you, but you can't manage to perceive anything but your body and the much bigger and stronger one behind you.

Then your shoes and socks. Last of all your jewelry, even the very precious one you'd have run into a burning building to save. You leave it behind you without a thought.

The two of you arrive at his home. He opens the door and pushes you inside. After a few stumbling steps, you fall into your hands and knees.

You lift your head to look forward. Most of the lights are burned out, making everything look even dirtier than it is. The carpet is sticky and matted where it isn't threadbare. Your eyes water from the smell of rotting food and dirty clothes.

Before you have time to acclimate to your surroundings, you see his large shadow move to in front of you. A moment later, he is standing there, his knees directly in front of your face.

You hear the sound of a belt... a zipper... of pants sliding down legs. And then he is on his knees, his half-erect cock dangling in your face.

You know what you're supposed to do, even though you don't at all know how to do it.

You really want to please him, but you know you're doing a bad job of it. Finally, after a few minutes, he pulls his cock out of your mouth.

You instinctively lean forward to keep him in your mouth, but he slaps you hard on the face. After the moment it takes for you to process what happened, you hang your head, ashamed of your failure.

He grabs your hair and impales your face on his dick, letting out a contentious grunt. His arms are stronger than your arms, stronger than your gag reflex, stronger than your will.

He pushes your head back until the head of his cock is only barely past your lips. Then he pulls it forward until it hits the back of your throat then forces it's way deeper.

Over and over again, he pushes and pulls, forcing his cock in and out of your throat and ripping tufts of hair out of your head. You don't need to know how to suck dick when he's doing all the work and your mouth is nothing but a warm, wet hole.

You'll learn to do it without choking, gagging, or crying. Or you won't, that's your problem. You're just a set of warm, wet holes, and he's going to shovel you out until they can hold what he wants to bury.

You have no idea how much time has passed when he pushes your head off his cock, torques your neck up so you're looking at each others' faces, and sprays his cum all over your face and hair.

But he isn't done with you. Before you can even react to the mess he made of your face, he moves on to your next hole.

That your pussy is already dripping is all that makee the pain manageable as he fucks you like he's trying to split you down the middle. As your senses drift off, you hear the rhythm of hard wet slaps and unending orgasmic cries in your own voice.

"I'm not gonna breed you yet, slut," he says as he pulls his cock out of you and sprays ejaculate up and down your back.

You know what's next. He touches his dick against your asshole, the first gentle thing he had done to you, and your body opens for him.

He grabs his belt and, looping it in his hand, whips you up and down your back as his cock pushes deeper into your formerly virgin ass with each thrust.

Once he's forced his whole cock inside you, he loops the belt around your neck and started choking you, tighter with each thrust, until you're on the edge of passing out and he fills your final hole with his third orgasm.

You collapse on the floor, exhausted and aching. When you begin to stir again, he is sitting on the sofa, watching TV, and drinking a can of beer. He sees you trying to sit up and says "Don't bother cleaning yourself; my friends will be here in a few minutes."

When you hear the knock on the door, you answer it as if you were a posh housewife greeting an honored guest instead of a naked, disheveled slut covered in sweat and cum.

They don't say anything. The man on the sofa nods to them, and they set upon you like wolves devouring an elk.

For the next hour you have two cocks inside you most of the time, and for a lot of the rest, a third

They fill your throat, pussy, and ass with cum more times than you can count as they turn you into a gibbering, catatonic ragdoll.

When they are finally done with you, they leave you in an unresponsive heap on the floor. You hear one of them say "Hey, Ronnie, what do we owe you?"

You hear a deep laugh in reply. "C'mon, man, you know my sluts are always free for you."

After a few minutes, Ronnie grabs your hair and lifts your face off the floor. He laughs and says, "Girl, I'm gonna make so much money off you before you're used up.

His voice turns cold again as he continues, "Don't clean yourself, slut. You sleep like this right here on the floor. Maybe you'll learn something."

You quickly fall asleep on the floor of the room that has become your home and your world... until he throws you away.