Train 887
Copyright© 2026 by Virael de la Fer
Chapter 5
Drama Sex Story: Chapter 5 - Twin bet: scariest/tragic AI story. Hers — WoW; mine — dark chikan erotica, inspired by the very real groping problem on crowded trains (which I've personally encountered and witnessed during my trip to Seoul) + a famous JAV film. This is pure fiction, expanded into bleak non-con with psychological depth and tragic end. Non-native English + AI polish. Spot grammar errors, awkward phrasing or typos? Please comment — I'll fix them! Thanks!
Caution: This Drama Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Coercion NonConsensual Reluctant Heterosexual Fiction Crime School Tear Jerker Humiliation Rough Gang Bang Cream Pie Exhibitionism Facial Masturbation Oral Sex Public Sex Caution ENF Violence
Day 3. Wednesday. Evening
Takashi stepped out of the toilet first. I followed him obediently, not even trying to cover my naked body with my hands like I would have done before. I was already getting used to this new role I had chosen. And what was worse — I didn’t regret it.
We returned to the same office. The door was slightly ajar. Takashi entered first, and I followed right behind him, head lowered, eyes fixed on the floor. Inside the room, everything was still going on.
I could only see six male legs around the table and a pile of women’s clothes scattered on the floor. Minami was lying face down on the table, her body jerking violently with every thrust. I heard her muffled, hoarse moans mixed with quiet, broken sobs.
Takashi’s three friends were using her to the fullest — all three holes at once. Two of them stood in front, taking turns fucking her mouth, while the third switched between her ass and pussy, pounding her relentlessly. They moved in rhythm, breathing heavily, occasionally exchanging short phrases and low laughter.
I stood beside Takashi — beside my owner — and waited quietly for his command. Hands at my sides, head down, face blank and detached.
Takashi glanced around the room and said calmly:
“I’m leaving. Finish up without me.”
He turned to me and ordered shortly:
“Get dressed, Thing.”
I nodded silently and walked over to my clothes, which lay in a messy pile in the middle of the room. I bent down, picked up my blouse, skirt, and bra. While I was getting dressed, Takashi stood by the window, talking on the phone in a low, businesslike voice about family matters. His tone was completely calm, as if nothing unusual was happening.
I pulled on my skirt first. My panties had never been returned to me, and I didn’t dare ask for them. I slipped the blouse on without bothering with the bra, stuffing it into my bag instead. I buttoned it up quickly, smoothed the fabric with my hands, and once I was somewhat presentable, I walked back to Takashi.
As I passed the table where Minami was being fucked, I couldn’t help but glance up for a few seconds.
Ken — the one with the biggest and thickest cock — stood behind her, steadily driving his massive shaft into her ass and then switching to her pussy. His hands gripped her breasts hard, fingers digging deep into her soft flesh. A thin stream of blood ran from her broken nose down her face, mixing with tears and turning her expression into a grotesque, ruined mask. Her eyes were wide open, glassy and unfocused, black mascara smeared everywhere. She let out a hoarse, broken sob with every brutal thrust.
I watched her for a few long seconds ... and felt nothing. No pity. No sympathy for my former friend.
“She brought this on herself,” I thought coldly. “She decided she was above the rules. She wanted to be here. Now she’s paying for it.”
Takashi finished his call, put the phone back in his pocket, and looked at me. His gaze slid down to my chest. My hard nipples were clearly visible through the thin fabric of the blouse. He let out an approving hum.
“Good girl, Thing.”
He reached out and gently patted my cheek, like a well-behaved pet.
“Let’s go. I’ll drive you home.”
I nodded without raising my eyes and followed him obediently toward the door. Behind us, Minami’s heavy, wet moans and the rhythmic slapping of flesh against flesh continued.
We left the building and walked toward the parking lot. It was already late. The sun had almost disappeared, and the campus was nearly empty. I followed Takashi a few steps behind, head bowed, arms hanging limply at my sides.
The short skirt fluttered with every gust of wind, constantly brushing against my bare, exposed pussy. Each time the cool air touched my wet folds, I shivered. The thin blouse rubbed against my hard nipples, reminding me with every step that I wasn’t wearing a bra. Even though I had clothes on, I felt completely naked.
Takashi’s car was waiting — a sleek black Japanese roadster with the top down. Low, expensive, and intimidating. He got in, started the engine, and nodded toward the passenger seat without looking at me.
“Get in.”
I obeyed silently, walking around the car and lowering myself onto the cool leather seat. The moment I sat down, the short skirt rode up, leaving my ass and pussy almost completely exposed on the seat.
“Address,” he said curtly.
I whispered my address — a cheap, run-down apartment block on the very edge of the city. Takashi gave a quiet grunt, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly. He clearly found it amusing how far below him I lived. He entered the address into the navigation and pulled out of the parking lot without another word.
The car accelerated smoothly. With the top fully down, the evening wind immediately whipped through my hair and under my skirt. The cool air rushed between my spread thighs, stroking my bare pussy and making the dark hairs flutter. It felt strangely intimate ... and humiliating.
Takashi drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting lazily on the gear shift. For several minutes he said nothing. Then, in a calm, almost bored voice:
“Blowjobs while driving are dangerous. So you’ll entertain me another way. Unbutton your blouse.”
I didn’t hesitate. My fingers moved to the buttons and opened the blouse one by one, revealing my bare breasts to the rushing wind. My nipples instantly hardened even more from the cold air.
Without being told, I slipped off my shoes and placed them neatly on the floor. I leaned back in the seat, lifted my legs slightly, and spread them as wide as the cramped space allowed. The skirt bunched up around my waist, completely exposing me. My wet pussy was now fully on display, dark pubic hair gently moving in the wind.
I slid my right hand between my thighs and began to touch myself.
My clit was swollen and hypersensitive after everything that had happened today. I was soaking wet — my fingers glided easily over my slick folds, circling the sensitive nub, occasionally dipping inside to gather more of my juices. Every stroke sent warm pulses of unwanted pleasure through my belly. The wind kept teasing my exposed pussy, making the sensation even stronger.
“Good girl, Mika...” I thought bitterly. “You’ve already become his Thing. He hasn’t even touched you, and here you are — legs spread in his expensive car, fingering yourself like an obedient little slut. But it’s better this way. Better to be his private Thing than a toy for the whole group ... Right?”
Takashi glanced sideways at me. A faint, satisfied smirk touched his lips as he watched my fingers move between my legs.
“Good, Thing. Don’t stop. Keep playing with that sloppy cunt until we get there.”
I nodded obediently, biting my lower lip. My fingers moved faster, more desperately. Wet, obscene sounds mixed with the roar of the wind. My hips began to rock slightly against my own hand. The leather seat was slowly getting damp beneath me, but I no longer cared.
The streetlights flashed past, illuminating my exposed body in brief, flickering bursts. My blouse hung open, breasts bouncing lightly with the movement of the car. My skirt was nothing more than a useless strip of fabric around my waist.
Inside my head there was no shame left — only a heavy, quiet emptiness ... and a dark, growing arousal at how low I had already fallen.
I already knew my place.
The car glided smoothly through the evening streets. The cool wind danced across my exposed breasts, making my nipples ache. My skirt was bunched uselessly around my waist, legs spread wide in the passenger seat, while my right hand moved steadily between my thighs. My fingers slid easily over my swollen, dripping clit — I was soaked, my juices already coating my fingers and slowly dripping onto the expensive leather.
I stared at the road ahead ... and suddenly a dangerous thought slipped into my mind.
I ... liked it.
I liked sitting here like this — completely exposed, on full display for anyone who drove past. I liked the way strangers in the next lane stared at my naked tits and spread legs. I liked their shocked, hungry eyes. I liked how some mothers quickly covered their children’s faces, while horny teenagers kept staring with open lust and envy.
But most of all ... I liked that I wasn’t theirs.
I was his.
His Thing. Takashi’s personal, private possession.
As long as I obeyed him, as long as I sat here with my legs open, fingering my wet cunt in public like an obedient slut, everything felt ... strangely right. The chaos was over. There was now a Master. There were rules. There was someone who owned me.
“My master...” I repeated silently, tasting the words. “My ... Master...”
I waited for the shame to hit me. For the disgust. For the voice inside my head to scream that this was wrong.
But nothing came.
Instead, a warm, dark wave of arousal spread through my body. For the first time since these nightmare days filled with horror and violence, a small, genuine smile crept across my lips.
I turned my head and looked at Takashi. He drove calmly, one hand on the wheel. At a red light, without stopping the slow circles on my clit, I reached over with my left hand and gently pressed my palm against his crotch. Through the fabric I felt his thick, rock-hard cock. It twitched under my touch. I squeezed it slowly, stroking the length, feeling it throb and grow even bigger.
A sweet, shameful thought floated through my mind:
“What a pity ... I can’t kneel right now and take him deep into my throat. I want to thank my Owner properly ... like a good little Thing should...”
My right hand moved faster between my legs. Wet, obscene sounds mixed with the noise of the wind. My left hand kept rhythmically massaging his cock through his pants.
“Admit it to yourself, Mika,” I thought bitterly, yet with strange excitement. “You’re happy this happened. You’re happy you became a Thing. His Thing. Takashi’s Thing.”
I knew it was sick. I knew it was perverted and broken.