Work Text:
As the train is about to arrive, you can feel it push all the air in, compressing around you. You stay back from the yellow line, whipped by the sudden wind. It's hot, and your hand in your girlfriend's hand is sweating. You let go, wipe it off on your skirt. She looks a little hurt, so you laugh a bit.
"I'm not going anywhere," you promise. "I'm just gross." The back of your neck, too, is sweaty enough that your shirt collar feels cold and moist. Is it always this hot underground? You don't usually ride the subway. Today was a special occasion. You and your girlfriend just left her favorite bookstore. It was near her old house, a couple towns over, so the train ride was over half an hour long. The entire thing was underground, which you thought was a waste. Surely there were some scenic views of the lake you could have passed.
As you step onto the train for the second time today, you realize it's a lot more packed than last time. People are packed in like those photos of fishing boats, piled high with silver and blue. Your girlfriend grabs your hand again, sweat be damned, as you're suddenly crowded by people. If you weren't hot before, you're definitely sweating now, as elbows and ankles narrowly avoid bruising you.
It's dense. You don't see any seats available, at least not in pairs. "I can stand," you offer, and your girlfriend sits with a sigh.
"Thanks, hon." She sets her bag of books in her lap - maybe you should have asked to share the seat with her - while you hang on to the pole beside her seat. This will have to do. You're right next to the door, with your shoulder pressed to the small glass window. It's a little anxiety-inducing. You can't help but imagine the swell of people building up pressure until the door bursts, sending you-
You shake your head, banishing the gruesome thought. You have a long train ride ahead of you. You can't spend it imagining those sorts of things. "What are you reading first?" You coax a conversation from your girlfriend, to fill the time.
"Yawn. I dunno. Maybe this one." She digs out a book, and you grimace. Junji Ito. You haven't read much of his work, but what you did read left an impression. A very unsettling one. You regularly get reminded of his writing, and it's always a little unpleasant. "But I'm kinda sleepy..." she yawns again. Your date must have taken a lot out of her.
You don't want to spend the train ride alone, but... "I can wake you up if you want a nap." You lean over the little divider to pat her on the head.
"Mmm, maybe." Another yawn. You're kinda feeling sleepy too, now, but the noise of the crowded train is enough to keep you up. You watch your girlfriend close her eyes and slowly nod off, rocked to sleep by the shaking of the train car. She's so cute. You want to kiss her right now, but you'd disturb her.
Besides, there's people all around you. They'd probably think you're some kind of lesbian train molester. Is that a real thing? You read about train molesters all the time online, but it still seems pretty far-fetched. Surely it's just a porn trope. If someone actually tried that in public, everyone would see. Most subway stations have security, if not literal police. How would they get away with it?
It's those very thoughts that make your spine tingle as something bumps up against your rear. You know it's not actually a molester, but it felt just like a hand on your ass, stifled only by your pleated skirt. Your breath catches, and you have to close your eyes to calm yourself. Relax. It's just someone who lost balance thanks to the train.
But it comes again, and you draw a breath in quick. "Hhh?" This time the hand is on your hip, perfectly threading the needle between your blouse and your waistband. It touches skin on your side, makes you flinch. It's just an accident, you tell yourself. But the hand doesn't move. Thumb and two fingers tighten, half pinch, half massage. You stifle a squeak. It tickles, a terrible feeling you hate.
You suddenly feel very cold, blood trembling. You've read the words "her heart sank" in books before, but only really envisioned a feeling like something pushing down your abdomen. Now you understand. It's so much more than that. Your entire body feel simultaneously heavy and paper-thin. Your insides tingle, and a head-spinning sense of vertigo hits you. You're sinking.
The hand on your hip slides forward, feeling your stomach under your blouse. You push your elbow back, feel it hit their arm. A low voice is suddenly directly beside your left ear. Another hand on your right shoulder. "Shhh, baby. Don't cause a scene." It's a man's voice, you realize with disgust. Of course it is. He wraps his arms around you, hugs you tight to his body, and your thighs are pressed against the waist-high divider.
"Hah- Stop that!" You whisper, not sure why. Maybe because he was being quiet too. Maybe because you don't want to wake your girlfriend up.
His right hand slips down the front of your blouse, rough fingers skirting the edge of your bra. His left leaves your stomach and instead starts to massage the inside of your thigh. You can't believe this is happening! Your eyes dart through the train car, but not a single person is looking.
No, wait, one is. Another man, the one sitting right beside your sleeping girlfriend. Her head has drooped, leaning on his shoulder, and the man has one hand on her knee. He makes eye contact with you, shakes his head. He puts a finger to his lips.
The man behind you whispers again. "Just stay quiet and we'll leave your friend alone."
Anger boils inside you impotently. "D-don't touch her," you try to growl, but it comes out as a mewl. You're so small against the man's body.
"Don't worry. Nobody wants to interrupt her nap." The man brushes his lips against the side of your jaw, under the ear. You shiver, and he mistakes it for arousal. It's not arousal. It's not. "Cute. You obviously want this."
You shake your head, but you can't stop him. Your girlfriend is so vulnerable right now, totally unaware of the horrors surrounding her. The man beside her lets go of her knee, but before you can sigh relief, he puts his arm around her shoulder, cuddles her up close. You seeth. "I'm being quiet," you hiss. "Let go of her, or I'll yell."
"Shhh... She'll hear you." The man holding her doesn't move, but at least he isn't groping her. Not like the man behind you, who's forcing his fingers under your bra. It hurts, makes it dig into your skin, but you hold back your whining. He'd just assume it was arousal again. You're completely silent as he sinks his fingers into your flesh, even as his nails bite at you. His other hand between your legs gets more adventurous, pulls your skirt up so his partner-in-crime can see your underwear. Your face is burning hot, but you still resist the urge to scream.
The man behind you has a big dick, you realize, through the scattered thoughts in your head. You hadn't realized what it was until now, but it's pressing against your spine, hot and swollen. The bulge starts above your ass, and reaches partway up your back. It must be eight or nine inches. You've never considered whether someone's dick would fit inside you before, but it's clear his won't.
Wait, there's no way he would try on a train, so why are you worried about that? You arch your back, trying to separate yourself from him as much as possible, but once again, infuriatingly, he reads it as your pleasure. You're not enjoying this. You're not. "Heh, look at you. Slutty little thing."
You bite your lip to hold back your rage. It's unbearable. Your thighs clench. With rage, of course. You're not turned on. You're not. You're not you're not you're so horny right now fuck- no! No you're not! You shudder, a whimper escapes your lips, as the man pushes you forward, leans over you as you're bent over the divider. Your hair touches your girlfriend's shoulder, and your breath makes her lips twitch.
You're going to wake her up if you keep whining. The man behind you rubs his dick up and down, grinding against your ass. You can feel its shape so clearly. Is it even inside his pants? The thought of his raw, fleshy cock touching you is sickening. It's not hot. It's not. You lift a hand to your mouth and cover it, muffle your voice just in time for him to pinch your nipple. "Mmnh!" Your eyes are tearing up.
"Good, just like that," he growls. You don't know what he's even talking about, but you must be doing something he likes. The hand between your legs slips under your clothing - finally. Thick, rough fingers drag through your bush, searching. He finds your clit easily, draws two fingers on either side of it back and forth, an infuriating V that puts you on edge nearly instantly.
"Hahhh..." You almost say "please," betray yourself. How does it feel so much better than anything else? Your girlfriend's tongue, your bullet vibe, your own hands. It's always effort to get you to cum, so how come you're already so close from just a single touch?
Your hand on your mouth is wet with sweat - no, your own drool. Saliva coats your palm and your chin. Your heavy breathing is interrupted with regular grunts and moans as the man teases the area around your clit - only ever brushing the sides, never rubbing it properly. He's holding you on the edge, making you beg with your body. You beg. You grind your hips back, push your ass up against his shaft. You bow your head above your girlfriend's sleeping body, unable to hold back for even her sake.
The man loves the show you're putting on, and his friend does too. He pulled his dick out, at some point, started stroking it, inches away from your girlfriend. You watch her face, head resting on his shoulder, twitch. Her cheeks are red. Is it the heat? Or is she having a dirty dream? He jerks himself off with his right hand, while his left is still wrapped around your girlfriend. If he cums right now, will it reach her face? You swear he's pointing it that way as he goes.
You watch the other man's cock, hypnotized. It drools precum, slicks his knuckles as he pumps it. The first man's cock is drooling too, sticky pre leaving a shiny trail on the back of your blouse. How will you hide it? You didn't bring a jacket, it's too hot. "M-my clothes," you whisper. You're so close to your girlfriend, you worry she'll hear you.
The man chuckles behind you - too loud! Someone will hear! But nobody looks. "If you want me to do it inside, I can take you home with me."
You shake your head swiftly. Obviously that's not what you meant! You watch the second man's cock throb, a creeping fear building up inside you. He's going to cum! He's going to do it on your girlfriend! "D-don't..."
The man behind you squeezes you tighter, and you cling to the pole for support. "Jealous?" He ruts against you more roughly, making the divider creak from the strain. You whimper pathetically as he goes, beyond shame. He knows. He knows you want it. You can't pretend you don't any more.
You nod. Then shake your head. Yes you are. "Nn...o... Don't do it. She'll know." If you could only reach, you would happily let him do it in your mouth. Both men can tell. You're so disgusting.
The man behind you finally slips his fingers inside you, lets his palm grind over your clit. You cum instantly. So disgusting. You're helpless, overwhelmed by pleasure, as you watch the second man cum. He tilts his head back, pulls your girlfriend even closer, as he pumps fast. Twitch. Rope. Throb. Splurt. Pump. Hot.
Your girlfriend's chest is coated in crooked diagonal lines. Hot white trails of disgusting, smelly cum. You clench around the first man's fingers and whine. They were never going to keep their promise. You only listened because you wanted this, deep down. Your body aches for a man to take advantage of it. That's the only explanation.
Your girlfriend's eyes flutter open as the man kisses her. You gasp, close your eyes, but you saw it. You saw the way his rough lips met hers, the way she opened her mouth to protest, and his tongue slipped inside. You can still hear it, the slimy sound of their tongues fighting, the way she grunts into his mouth. She isn't going to make a scene either.
You wonder, suddenly... Your girlfriend rides the train all the time. Is this really the first time this has happened to her? Did she know this was a possibility when she invited you on this date? Has she ever... met these men before? Did she want this to happen?
You're afraid of what you'll see when you open your eyes. You keep them shut.