Hand Off Guard

Madhavi Roy

February 9, 2021

Fiction

gropingpublichumiliation

Hand Off Guard's feature image

As a girl from the townside, I knew that the first few days in the city would really be challenging. The busy city life, the bustling streets, crowd and the crime rates, I had heard them all from my uncle, who had shifted there about a decade ago. But, when I topped my town in the boards, he was adamant to get me taught in the Delhi University. Truth be told, I also had my aspirations to pursue a career in commerce. So, after a long discussion with my uncle and with some persistence from my side, my parents finally agreed.

Staying with my uncle could mean a burden to my aunt, whom my mom did not always get along with. Even though I had my uncle as my local guardian, I decided to take a room in the hostel. To pay the bills of my fooding and lodging, the money from home was never quite enough and I had to look around for some part time jobs. After a bit of searching around I finally got a job as a waitress in a restaurant. It was a decent job, with flexible working conditions and payroll. The only small issue was my uniform. It was formal, with a white cotton shirt with a single-breasted ball collar coat that over accentuated my 32-26-36 body, and black miniskirt that barely reached my knees. Honestly, I could not find a better option so, I happily accepted it.

The first few days went really good both in college and at job. I was trying to adjust my time so I could carry on with both my work and studies, and I thought I was doing fine with my work. Until after a few days, the restaurant had a really big party coming up and all the staffs were to be there prim and proper. As soon as my class ended, I dashed into the washroom, changed to my uniform, adjusted my hair and ignoring the curious eyes around, I reached the metro station. The metro was just about to leave. I hurried into the last compartment before the door slid shut.

The compartment was packed with passengers, not an inch of space free and most of them were males from teens to middle aged. I had never even imagined myself getting suffocated in such small spaces. The heat from the crowd, the atmosphere filled with sweat and the rhythmic oscillations of the metro was making me uncomfortable, but I had no choice. I got hold of a steel rod to keep myself steady, praying to get out as soon as I could.

With all this going on, I suddenly felt a soft pressure on my buttocks.

At first I tried to ignore it, but soon, I felt the pressure shifting. It was a hand exploring my buttocks over the fabric. I was shocked. This is not right! I tried to step away to a location, but with this large crowd I had no chance of moving even a single step.

I tried to squirm ahead to get rid of the touch. But the fingers groped into my flesh, and pulled my back! I bit onto my lip, not knowing what to do. In the meantime, the hand had started to lift the hem of my skirt. I tried to pull it down with my own hands, much to the disapproval of the owner of the hand. For I felt a sharp pain on my butt just a moment later for my cockiness. I whimpered, and my grip loosened. The assailant was happy it seemed. My skirt was lifted to my waist, uncovering my bare buttcheeks and my red panties in public. I gasped in horror and looked around. But no one seemed to be paying attention. Everyone was busy hunched in their phones or pondering on their thoughts. While I stood helplessly, feeling the rough palm groping the pads of my arse and squeezing them in appreciation.

I had started to feel weak in my legs. My knees had started to shake a little. I stuck my chin down, covering my mouth as two fingers slid down the grommet of my panties. The strokes came soft, slow but he sure was digging his way into my vulnerable nudity. And to my horror, my body was reacting just at his signals. That I realised when he slid my panties aside and pushed a finger in. I buckled in pain and yelped. I could have collapsed right there unless another hand grabbed me and yanked me straight. My moans kept getting drowned in the noise of the train and of the chitchats of the crowd, as the hand kept assaulting my poor virginity. The surge was building up high and my knees were shaking like crazy. My fists were clenching and my mind had started to cloud.. and then it happened. The drops of ecstasy started to squirt out in thick jets out of my slit. My body staggered from the impact of orgasm and I fell limp against a broad muscular chest…

As I was adjusting my attire and my hair in the metro washroom, rummaging my brain to think of excuses for being late in the restaurant, I felt my finger hitting a chit of paper. I had not even realised that it was sticking between the lips of my fanny!

I quickly pulled it out. It was still moist from my own fluid and its white had slightly dulled, but its contents were intact. There was a phone number written in blue with a "Call me" written.

Did the guy know I would go back to him?


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