Message-ID: <54779asstr$1161738601@assm.asstr.org>
From: white Rino <whiterino_uk@hotmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} Train Journey to Hell - part 1 and 2
Lines: 360
Date: Tue, 24 Oct 2006 21:10:01 -0400
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<1st attachment, "lon.doc" begin>

This is a true story of an event that happened on a train journey
from London to Brentwood.

Part 1

It all started after I left a party at Canary Wharf where I had a
little (lot) too much to drink and my friends thought I was with
someone.  Alas I was not or else I would not have been subjected
to the humiliation of what followed.

Around 11pm I left Canary Wharf, for those of you not familiar
with this area it is a big office block with a number of pubs and
restaurants in the area, it is beside the river Thames and very
mush on the up.  During the night I had drunk a whole bottle of
very nice champagne and some tequila during party games.  As a
relative low level drinker normally, I felt very light headed.


After leaving the pub I went on the Docklands Light Railway to
Stratford Station to pick up the main train home, however on the
way there my appearance and condition attracted the attention of
a number of people, in particular one man.  Even in my drunken
haze I could tell that he was paying me particular attention,
walking very close to me and always trying to get out of my line
of vision when I glanced around.  He was quite tall and I
particularly remember his haircut as it was shaved into a circle
around the top of his head. I must admit my clothing on this
particular night did not help the situation.  Normally on a work
day I would be in a skirt suit (my employers don't allow
trousers), stockings and a white blouse, standard office attire.
However, today, I changed before leaving the office and was
wearing a little too short micro mini in a vivid blue with the
tops of my black stockings constantly peeping out despite my
constant tugging at the hemline.  Even when I was sitting in the
bar I wished I had just taken them off and gone bare legged as
watching other women try to pull down a too short skirt annoys
me.  Luckily at least they wear hold ups and the suspenders would
not show through my skirt.  So with my blue skirt I had a white T
shirt.  The heat of the bar had meant that I had got very hot and
a little moist, now that I was walking to the train this and the
presence of Mr Circlehead had made me shiver.


I chose not to sit on the benches to try and prevent my skirt
riding up but as I looked at the notice board the next train was
not expected for 10 minutes.  My feet were killing me as I had
been in my 4 inch heels all day and night so I decided a seat to
save my feet was more important that saving my vanity. 
Remembering the words of my old finishing school teacher about
keeping your knees together I sat down on the wooden bench trying
to ignore the stares of other travellers and especially Mr
Circlehead.  Whether it was the fresh air or the drink beginning
to take effect but I could feel my head swimming and finally I
could not resist to lean back and rest my head and close my
eyes.


I woke up with a start as I heard the noise of sliding metal only
to see to my horror the doors of the train closing, I had missed
the train. Oh god is all I could think, looking at the notice
board the next train was due in 5 minutes so at least I didn't
have to wait long.  The platform was now empty and it felt
colder, first I thought it was imagination but then Goosebumps
appeared on my arms and my nipples began to stiffen as a breeze
blew past.  Crossing my arms I tried to get warm, with little
effect.  Determined not to miss the next train I stood up and
paced the platform, as the clock ticked by the 5 minutes seemed
an eternity, but eventually the greeting whoosh sound of the
train pulling into the station came.  Perhaps because the last
train had only just left, the platform was quite empty, a few
people stood at the far end and a group of 5 lads were larking
about at the other.  I got on the train and sat down, relieved to
find it much warmer than the platform.  My relief however was
short lived when I saw board the train behind me Mr Circlehead. 
What should I do? I thought, change carriage, but would he just
follow?, why didn't he catch the previous train?  All these
questions but no answers.  I decided to stay put, as at least
there were three or four normal looking people in the carriage
too.


By the time I changed trains and got to Stratford it was
approaching midnight, the humming giant clock ticked past 0001
and that is when the announcer gave the good news!
"Owing to a train breakdown the 0015 service to Brentwood is
delayed, we expect the train to arrive at 0030, sorry for any
inconvenience."


Great! No waiting room, it was locked, it was getting colder and
my nipples were like bullets, my feet were killing me and the
only seats that looked remotely clean were next to Mr weirdo
Circlehead.


I am sure my old teacher would turn in her grave but I decided my
feet could not stand anymore, so I took off my shoes and stood on
the platform holding my stilettos.  If ever an advertisement for
an Essex Girl that was it, micro mini, pissed, standing in
stockings on a train platform holding stilettos!


With half an hour to wait I started to feel really miserable but
more importantly more and more sick.  As I squinted at the clock
the numbers started to get hazy and blurred around the edges,
they seemed to take an eternity to turn from one number to the
next.  If I didn't get home to bed soon I just knew I was going
to be ill.  Somehow the next 30 minutes past and the train pulled
into the platform, relieved I stumbled onto the train fell into a
seat and just laid across a seat.  By doing so I was revealing
bare thigh and stocking top, but I was past caring, I just wanted
to get home, I felt sick.


The journey should take about 30 mins but I awoke with a jolt as
I felt bile rising in my throat, I was going to be sick.  Panic
overcome me and for some strange reason I just needed to get off
the train and be sick.  "I can't be sick here" was all I could
think.  I managed to resist the urge to vomit but as soon as the
next station stop came close it rose again.  As the train pulled
into Romford, I just knew I could not hold it any more.  As the
doors opened I sprinted out of the carriage across to a bin on
the platform and emptied my stomach.  Sick splashed into the
black sack lining the bin, the smell causing me to heave again
and again until it seeped out of my nose.  I dropped to my knees
as they gave way and I tried to wipe excess spit and sick from my
mouth.  As I was thinking the situation could not be any worse I
struck me.  The train had gone, the last train and with it my
handbag.  It was at this point my crying became uncontrollerable.
 I must have looked a complete wreck, kneeling by a waste bin
with my skirt hiked up revealing the tops of torn stocking bare
feet wet with dirt and muck and a T shirt stained with vomit and
spit.  My face, god only know how that looked, I just wanted to
die, let the ground swallow me up and disappear.  If I only knew
what was going to happen over the next 24 hours dying would have
been a preferred option.



Part 2


At some point following my throwing up on the platform I passed
out as the next thing I remember is being prodded.  I opened my
eyes but couldn't see anything; blackness was all I could see. 
Confused I tried to get up, but realised I couldn't, something
was holding me down.  Panicking I tried harder, but no matter how
much I tried I couldn't get me body off the ground, my hands were
tied behind me and I couldn't get up. I started to sweat and tug
at the tethers but it was no use.  I screamed but nothing came
out except a gurgle and hum.  I was gagged too.


I thrashed about like a caged lion for several minutes until I
was both exhausted and bruised from bumping into the walls around
me.  Finally, breathing heavily I heard the first sounds from my
captors. "Girlie, you will do yourself some harm like that, just
stay still".
I felt fingers around my neck and tried to pull away but then
realised they were untying my gag so I remained still.
"Who are you and want do you want", I cried
"Never mind that, what's your name girlie?"
"Let me go, I won't tell anyone", I pleaded
All I heard was a laugh, "name girlie, what is it".  This time it
was more insistent.  Not wanting to upset him I answered.
"Jen, Jennifer", I said
"Well Jennifer, if you do as you are told like a good little
girlie than you won't get hurt too much.  If you keep being a
little bitch you will regret it.  Understand", he snarled.
"Yes , yes, but what do you want with me?"
That laugh came again
"You're a pretty little thing, what do you think I want with
you".

It was at that moment it stuck me, bizarre as it may sound it was
not until he virtually spelt it out I realised what was going to
happen to me, I was going to be raped but this man.  They say
people either fight or flight in these situations.  I couldn't
run as I was tied, I was not strong so fighting was unlikely to
work, so my only two options seemed to disappear immediately.
Before I could think about my next move I felt fingers touching
my face,
"Get off, you fucker" I screamed
Slap! 
I was knocked sideway with the force of a hard slap across my
face
"Don't talk to me like that you little slut"
I was pulled back up into a seating position again, "don't you
dare talk like that to me."
As a result of the movement I could see out of the bottom of my
blindfold a little light revealed a pair of feet in dirty boots
and dark jeans
"As they say in the movies, we can do this the hard way or the
easy way"
"I will make nothing easy for you, fuck off"
Slap!

Ending up on my side again with my face stinging, again.
This time I was not pulled back up, but pushed down on to my
stomach with a knee in my back.  Hands then rubbed over my thighs
and up my skirt,
"Little slut" I heard whispered in my ear.
I tried to get up, but his weight kept me pinned down
I could feel his hands over my legs yanking my skirt up to reveal
my panties
"Nice little arse Jennifer"
The use of my name made it even worse, how could this be
happening to me.  A couple of hours ago I was in a high class bar
drinking champagne with city bankers, now I was on my stomach
with my skirt hitched up over my arse with some sicko mauling
me.

"I am surprised you even bother with these little things, slut,
they hardly cover anything.  You girlies wonder why this happens
to you, you are all sluts with ya short skirts and little panty
thongs."
He laughed and slapped my arse cheeks, one then the other,
getting harder and harder, his laughing got louder.  The slapping
then stopped and his fingers traced the edge of my thong down and
towards my private parts.  I wriggled and tried to get away, but
it was useless, he must have weighed 20 stone or something I just
couldn't move.


I felt his fingers reach my pussy, all that was between his
fingers and my most intimate parts was a narrow band of thong
material.  I closed my eyes and wept.
What happened over the next hour or so still remains a bit of a
blur but the pain and memory of it will always stay with me.
He slid his fingers inside the thong and over my pussy lips,
stroking them like a lover might, but he had no lover touch.  His
hands were rough and his rubbing hard and unloving.  It is
strange that in these circumstances your body is unable to react
as you want.  I felt disgusted by what was happening to me, sick
and humiliated, yet my pussy was getting wet at his touch, how
can this be happening I was asking myself.
It was not long until he realised this too.
"Well well, you dirty little whore, you just love it don't you? 
Your cunt is dripping."
With that he thrust his fingers deeper into my pussy, invading me
harder and harder it felt like two fingers, then three, he then
withdrew completely.

"Need these panties off slut", and with one yank they were down
to my knees and despite resistance they were torn from my body
and discarded.
Without the little barrier his probing of my body became more
intense, I felt one hand spreading my legs whilst the other
probed my pussy.  This time more fingers were inside me at least
four as I could feel a ring on his finger catching my lip each
time it pushed inside me.
"Juicy slut, nice" and gurgles of delight were all I could hear.
My wet pussy at least was as far as my body allowed, there was no
way I was going to enjoy this event and certainly not orgasm.
After several minutes of this humiliation my captor was clearly
ready to move to the next level as I heard the zipper of his
jeans.
"Get on your knees slut, I'm gonna fuck that juicy cunt"
At this point I needed to decide whether to resist or comply and
try and get the whole thing over with
With great reluctance I drew my knees up to reveal my arse
sticking it up in the air for him to enter me.
"Good girlie"


His fingers entered me again, this time to spread my lips wider
then I felt for the first time his hard cock, even before it
entered me tears streamed down my face.  I closed my eyes as he
made his first thrust, he showed no mercy or compassion as his
cock penetrated me, with a single motion his whole cock thrust
deep into me.  It felt large as it hit my cervix causing me to
jump forward, as soon as I did he pulled me back to impale me
deeper on to his shaft.  His thrusts became shorter as he stabbed
deeper into me.  I could hear his breathing quicken and sweat
begin to drip onto my arse.
"Emm, you're a good tight fuck Jennifer", he snarled, "but I want
to see your face".
Before I had the chance to answer he flipped me over to face him,
his hard cock still inside me.  He pulled my blindfold off and
for the first time I could see my captor.  Blinking in the half
light I could see his sweating face, unshaven and grubby, his
body covered with dirty clothing, I was being raped by a tramp.
My revulsion was now even greater, somehow being raped by him was
even worst than by a 'normal' person.  All I could think about is
the disease and infections I was going to get from this dirty
bastard.

"That's better, girlie, can see you enjoying it now".  He grabbed
my thighs tighter and pulled and pushed me faster as he thrust
his cock in and out of my swollen pussy.  As I closed my eyes,
tormented by what was happening, he screamed at me to open my
eyes, "I want to see your eyes bitch."
How long could this continue I thought, but then I did not want
to think of the ending, to feel his semen inside me, oh god is
all I could think, please let this end, let it be a dream.

A dream it was not and the thrusting continued.  After what
seemed an eternity of having my pussy fucked roughly he finally
seemed to be climaxing.  A loud grunt and extra hard thrust
brought him to come, I felt the hot semen pump into my pussy, he
continued to pump into as he thrust more, wave after wave of
semen emptied into me.  Finally the abuse stopped and he withdrew
his softening cock, it was then I saw it for the first time, and
know why it hurt so much, it was huge, bigger than anything I had
seen for real, the size of those you see on the Intenet.  It was
long, maybe 8 or 9 inches but so thick, it was like my wrist.  As
he pulled out of me he completed my humiliation by squeezing the
last remaining drops of semen on to my skirt , wiping his cock on
the material.
"You are a good fuck girlie, thanks, that pussy of yours was all
wet and ready, you sluts love it don't you?"
He said it like I had a choice, like I wanted it, my body had
reacted to his touches, without my control.
"You are disgusting and vile, I will see you pay for this you
fucker, you dirty lowlife scum".

My hands still tied I was unable to strike him so I kicked out
hitting him in the groin, causing him to double over and roll in
pain.  I kicked out again, hitting a leg then again striking his
head, feeling my toes crack I yelped.  I wanted to take this
chance to try and escape, climbing to my knees and then to my
feet I got up, at first unsteady but then able to look around my
surroundings.  He continued to rol about holding his head and
groin shouting at me, fucking bitch, "fucking bitch", he screamed
over and over.
I ran to a door way and pushed the door put couldn't open it. I
turned to use my bound hand but the door would not budge.  I
needed to act quickly of I would be caught, so I searched around
for alternatives, but this was the only door.
Before I had the chance to consider my next move he was getting
up, his cock still hanging out of his jeans he staggered towards
me.
"Fucking whore, you will pay dear for that."

I saw his hand coming towards me but could not avoid it and felt
the full force of his 20 stone behind it. I fell to the floor and
passed out.

Part 3 coming soon



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