Getting Caught

It took a moment for my mind to grasp it. These were not pictures taken by Jason or Frank. These were shots taken by someone else -- another hidden stalker. My life had suddenly, irreversibly gotten way out of control!

With a sense of dread, I went inside and sat down on my couch. I had to read the letter twice before the words there sunk in.

For the next few weeks, I'll be sending you letters. You will obey my instructions exactly. Screw up once, and some neighbors will see these pictures. Screw up twice, and I'll pass them around at your school. I don't know what you're going to do if your mother happens to see them!

I'll be in touch later this week.

I sat there on the sofa, letting my brain lapse into a fog. I'd become a whore. I'd put my life in danger. I had yet another stranger who could do whatever he wished to me. My life was coming unraveled.

For the next week, I was deeply depressed. I went through the motions of living. I went to my classes each day. One day, Frank came by and fucked me. Another night, Jason came knocking. He got me out of my bed and made me suck his cock until he came. I lay awake for the rest of that night. My thoughts just kept swirling around the mysterious letter and the phantom who had sent it. Somehow it seemed worse than what Frank and Jason were doing. Somehow, it seemed more evil.

On Thursday, I got home to find a package at my door. It was a box, wrapped in brown paper with only my name written on it. I knew immediately who it was from. I went inside to open it, fearing its contents but badly needing to know.

How lucky can you get? You get to skip your classes tomorrow! Instead, you'll be going to New York City.

Tonight, put on only the clothes in this box -- no underwear. I'll allow you to wear your long coat over the clothes. Take the other things in this box, put them in your coat pockets, and go to the bus station. You'll be taking the 1:30am bus to New York. Don't miss the bus or I'll start mailing out the pictures.

You'll get to the Port Authority Bus Terminal at 5:45 in the morning. When you get there, go outside onto Eighth Avenue and wait for my call.

I looked through the box, and found a cell phone, round trip bus tickets, a bus schedule, some subway tokens, and $100 in cash. Still in a daze, I pulled out the clothes.

There wasn't much in the way of clothing. I closed my window shades, and began trying things on. The first item was a simple halter top. It was made of a shear silk material with spaghetti straps over the shoulders. The material wasn't transparent, but it was so fine that it clearly showed the outline of my breasts. It wasn't tight underneath my breasts, but hung loosely down from my nipples. As I stood looking in my mirror, I knew this top would spell trouble. It was so short that when I lifted my arms, most of my breasts were on view.

The second item was a short black skirt. It was very short! I put it on, and it came to only about two inches below my ass. And to make matters worse, it had a split going up one side. I couldn't even imagine where someone would buy a skirt like this!

The third and last item was a pair of red stiletto "fuck-me" heels. They had open toes and open heels and a leather strap that went around the ankle. I looked at them and wondered how on earth I would ever manage to walk in those five inch heels. I hadn't worn anything but sneakers for most of my life.

Somehow, the stranger had gotten all my sizes right. I pondered that for a moment. I took off the clothes, and lay down in my bed for an hour. Then I made dinner and lay down in my bed some more. I was nearly sick with dread. I set my alarm clock for later that night, and I tried to sleep, but I couldn't stop thinking about the day that was to come. I wondered if the guy would have me go to some hotel downtown where he would make me service him and his friends. Or if he would have me walk the streets like a common whore. I tried to stop imagining things. I knew it was doing no good. There was no way I could disobey this guy, no matter what he decided to do. I just couldn't take the risk of having my mother learn of my slutty behavior. But I couldn't stop thinking about it either. Finally I took some antacids and pain pills. It was the only way I could think of to cope.

As my departure time approached, I got into my outfit and left for the station. Terrified of missing the bus, I got there nearly an hour prior to it boarding. With my coat on, people seemed to take little notice of me. When the bus boarded, thankfully, no one sat near me. About a half-hour into the trip, I leaned my head against the window and fell into a deep and troubled sleep. When I awoke, someone was shaking my shoulder. We had arrived at the Port Authority Bus Terminal in New York.

Out on the street it was cold, but I didn't have long to wait. The phone in my pocket was ringing less than five minutes after I got there. The voice on the other end sounded tinny, like it was being electronically altered.

Listen carefully, because I'm only going to tell you this once. Take off your coat right now.

The guy must have been watching me, because when I took my coat off, he resumed his instructions.

From here on out, you will just carry the coat on your arm. Go back in the station and head downstairs to the A-Train. You'll take only the local trains. Take the A-Train downtown for starters. When you get to Fulton Street, switch to the 4-Train uptown. You'll be riding on the 4-Train from now until 9 this morning. You will ride uptown to 59th Street, and then downtown to Wall Street, and you will keep going back and forth. On the train, you will stand at all times. You will allow anyone to touch you in any way they wish. You will take no action to pull away from people or to shield your body from their touch. You never know when I'll be watching, so don't disappoint me. Remember -- the 4-Train between 59th and Wall Street. I'll call you again at nine.

The guy hung up without letting me say a word. I was totally freaked. By now I knew what he was doing. He was putting me onto the city's most crowded subway cars during the height of the morning rush hour. Dressed like I was, I could only guess what the result would be.

I was embarrassed as hell and felt like a freak, but I did as I'd been told. I headed down the stairs to the subway. I wanted to find somewhere to hide, but instead I forced myself to look at men, thinking that one of them had to be my blackmailer. And the men were looking right back of course, enjoying the sight of so much exposed skin. I went to the subway, and merged into the crush of people onto the first A-Train that stopped. As soon as I got on, I knew I was in trouble.

The car was packed with people. I had hoped to get to one of the poles in the center of the car. At least that way, I could hold onto something without having to raise my arm. Instead, the train jolted forward, and instinctively I grabbed one of the overhead grips. As I pulled myself off of the guy I'd been pushing, I knew in an instant that my tit was exposed. I reached up to cover it, but stopped, remembering the words of my blackmailer. I glanced around, and saw that some of the men were looking. An instant later, I felt a hand brushing against my thigh. When I had reached up, my skirt had ridden up as well. Now, the hand, which had started at my split, was moving sideways around towards my ass.

I forced myself to do as I'd been told. I held on to the handle, and reacted not at all. I didn't even try to see who it was that was touching me. Whoever it was, they must have been emboldened by my lack of response. They began boldly feeling my ass-cheek, and then ran a finger up the crack of my ass, raising my skirt as they went. A shiver went up my spine. The hand moved on around the side of my hips. When it reached my stomach, it began moving down towards my pussy. I wanted desperately to stop it, but I was too afraid. What if my stalker was watching? What if I started a fight? I was surrounded by people and frozen in place. I just didn't know what to do.

My whole body trembled as I glanced at the people around me. Most seemed to be unaware that I was being used right in front of their eyes. They were reading their papers, or studiously avoiding looking at other people.

The hand at my pussy was prompting me to spread my legs. As I did so, a man in front of me pushed closer. He had his briefcase held high like a notebook, and the back of his hand touched my breast. It was a very slick move. No one had seen except the few other guys who were watching.

By the time we reached the next station, my pussy was soaked. The guy in front of me kept brushing his hand across my nipple. Each time I looked at him, he acted as if he didn't know what he was doing. The guy behind me was boldly stroking my clit, making me fight hard to keep from moaning. When the train braked for the second station, he used the swaying motion of the car to drive his finger up into my pussy. I think I may have moaned slightly then. By now, the guy in front of me knew he would meet no resistance. He lowered his briefcase and switched it to his other hand. Then he put his arm around me, lifting my skirt in the back. People near me seemed to be catching on. We were so tightly packed in there that most of them couldn't see, but they could probably smell the scent of my pussy rising up in the air. I saw a girl watching me from a short distance away as another hand began to grope me. The finger inside me was pumping in and out of me now. I felt an orgasm rapidly rising. I was being pressed in on from all sides. Hands were touching me everywhere. The train braked, and I remembered to look at the station sign. I had no idea where I was, or how many stops I had missed, but I saw that the sign said 'Fulton Street'.

"My stop," I gasped, trying to push my way towards the door. The finger slipped from my cunt. I'd been so close to cumming, I almost felt sorry. Part of me wanted to stay there, but most of me wanted to run like hell. My face was red with embarrassment, and I could still smell the scent of my sex in the air. People were looking at me, and hands were groping me on my way out the door. I made it onto the platform and walked as fast as I could on those five inch heels, trying to put distance between myself and those men.

Eventually I saw signs for the 4-Train. I could feel the cold wetness between my legs. I was getting looks from every man I passed and from most of the women as well. But I thanked God I hadn't missed my stop. It occurred to me that I should try to slow down now. By rushing, I was only drawing attention to myself, and I was in no hurry to get onto the next packed train.

When I got on the 4-Train, I kept pushing until I forced my way to a center pole. Once again the car was packed, but this time at least, I didn't have my tit hanging out. As we pulled out of the station, I felt a hand "accidentally" brush my leg. By the time we reached the second station, I could feel it brushing my ass as well. It seemed I had found another guy emboldened by my lack of response. By the time we reached the third station he was blatantly groping my ass, and by the fourth he was trying to reach around to my pussy. I guess some others must have noticed what was happening, because one guy pushed through a few people until he was standing right in front of me.

"I've been looking all over for you," he said to me as the guy behind me beat a hasty retreat. "I thought we'd lost each other in the crowd."

He was a good looking guy, black, in his early twenties I'd guess. I'd never laid eyes on him in my life. He wore a white dress shirt and a tie -- headed for work I guessed. He put his arm around me like we were lovers and pulled me close.

"I guess I'll have to be late for work this morning," he told me, slipping his free hand under my halter. I gasped; surprised both by his audacity and by the fact that he now stood there holding my breast. But I said nothing. Briefly I thought that he could be my blackmailer.

"How far are we going?" he whispered into my ear.

I ignored his implied double meaning. "I have to get off at 59th Street," I told him.

"That doesn't give us much time," he whispered back as his hand moved down to my crotch.

As his hand found my pussy, a thought formed in my mind. "Listen," I whispered back. "I'm being forced to ride on this train like this. I'm actually being blackmailed. I have to take the 4-Train back and forth all morning. But you could help me. You could protect me from the other guys."

He smiled, leaned back and looked at me for a moment. "And what would I get if I did?" he asked grinning.

I thought about that for a moment. I had $100 dollars in my pocket, but I didn't know if I'd need that for later. "What if I try to get you off before I leave?" I asked him trying to sound sexy.

"I don't think so," he told me. "I think you're going to let me fuck you before you leave."

"Okay -- it's a deal," I said, trying to hold back my moan. I didn't really think about what I had agreed to. His finger had slipped inside me, and I was in no position to argue.

We did no talking after that. Instead he fingered me until I reached an orgasm. He must have known when I was cumming because I nearly fell to the floor. He was holding me up by my pussy. The waves rushed through me, and my juices dripped down my legs, but I did manage to keep my mouth shut. When I opened my eyes, some people were staring at me. I realized they could probably smell the sex in the air. I certainly could.

"Here's our stop," the guy told me, escorting me towards the door. He had a devilish grin, and for the first time since I got there, I stopped being embarrassed and nearly laughed out loud.

"I have to ride back to Wall Street," I told him out on the platform. "Then I have to take the train back here."

"Then let's go," he told me, "This time you can stroke my dick."

I glanced at him, slightly shocked by his crudeness, but I didn't say a word. When we got on the downtown train, he held on to an overhead grip while I held onto him. Then, with one arm around him, I began to do as he wished. I cautiously pulled down his fly. Then I reached inside and took hold of his cock. It was big, and very hard! I didn't look down to see it, but when I felt it, I certainly wanted to. I began stroking his cock, pressing up against him so that no one could see. I'm sure a few people guessed what I was doing. They could probably tell from the way my arm was moving. Once again someone started touching my ass. I have to admit, I was beginning to enjoy it -- not just the ass groping, but the whole scene around me. It was just so nasty and dirty, like only New York can be. Among the people watching, I noticed some Wall Street types. I found myself almost wishing I could get fucked right there in front of them.

My guy grabbed my hand and stopped me before we reached Wall Street. I didn't ask him why. We didn't say much as we changed trains to head back uptown. As we reached the next train, he held me back a bit. Then he pushed us on just as the doors were starting to close. He turned sideways, with his back against the railing, then turned me around so I was laying back in his arms. When I felt him reach for his zipper, I knew what he was up to.

My friend did all the work (I still didn't know his name). He slumped down a little, with his legs between mine. Then he stood up, guiding his cock into my pussy.

It was all I could do not to groan out loud. His cock felt massive as he pushed it inside me. And he just pushed it in and then left it there! From the way we were standing, I'm sure some people knew what we were doing. My friend was leaning back, and I was standing with my back arched. No doubt my skirt was pulled up in the back. The guy in front of me clearly knew what we were up to. He just looked at me and smiled. I know my face must have given us away. It felt very flushed. When we pulled into the next station, more people crammed their way onto the train. The guy in front of me just pushed against me, trying to let them get by. Conveniently, his hand also found its way between my legs as the train doors began to close. Looking away and acting nonchalant, he began playing with my clit.

I started moving some then. I couldn't help myself. I had to bite my lips just to keep from screaming. I could feel that big, thick cock move around inside me. The fingers on my clit were driving me crazy. Within minutes, I started cumming, feeling my pussy juice up and pulse around the stranger's cock. At about the same time, we reached the next stop and the doors slid open. As people tried to board, the guy behind thrust into me, holding tightly on to my hips. I felt his cum spurting as the doors began to close. I let out a whimper, and a woman there looked at me strangely. She had just gotten on, and was standing right next to my shoulder. She saw the flush on my face, then looked down to see the hand between my legs. I'm sure she noted the guy behind me whose legs were stretched out between mine. She took a brief look around, and then casually lifted my skirt. The guy in front of me moved his hand so she could see my inflamed wet cunt with the cock still inside it. "Very nice," she said to me, smiling.

The guy behind me slipped from my pussy and put his man-meat away. I felt so embarrassed by the woman's boldness! Somehow it was different from what the men had done. As the juices dripped down my legs, I tried not to look at anyone. And I was particularly grateful that nothing more happened for the next two stops. As the train approach Grand Central, the woman in front of me reached up under my top. She grabbed hold of my nipple and used it to pull me forward. "The things I would do to you if only you were mine!" she whispered in my ear. Then, as the train doors opened, she gave my nipple a hard squeeze and stepped off the train, disappearing into the crowd.

I was so flustered I could barely keep standing. At 59th Street, I got off the train once again. I looked at my watch, astonished to see that it was nearly nine o'clock.

My friend was saying his goodbyes. "I have to get to work," he told me, kissing me on the lips. "Thank you so much for the sex!" And with one last gorgeous grin, he sauntered off into the crowd. I stood there looking after him, feeling terribly shattered that I hadn't gotten his name. Then I remembered what time it was, and I tried to regain my senses. I headed up to the street, figuring it might help to be above the ground if I wanted my cell phone to work.

I hadn't been on the street for more than 5 minutes before my phone began ringing. Since it wasn't even nine yet, I was surer than ever that my blackmailer had to be watching. I looked around to try and find him as I listened to what he said.

You did an excellent job! I'm quite proud of you. I think you're now ready to make the move from amateur to professional. Get back on the train. Take it downtown to 42nd Street. Then walk west on 42nd until you get to a place called ShowWorld. Go inside and ask for Steve. He'll get you started.

I'd seen countless people speaking on their phones, but I wasn't able to single anyone out as my blackmailer. Exhausted and in despair, I followed his instructions. I got back on the train, keeping my back to the door and my coat pressed tightly to my chest. People still looked at me, but this time no one tried to feel me up. I got off at 42nd Street and headed west. I got a few comments from guys on the street -- some of the come-ons you'd expect. When I got to ShowWorld, I walked in with trepidation and asked for Steve at the counter.

The place was a sleazy porn shop. Shelves were lined with magazines, movies and sex toys. Some of the guys in there looked at me with interest. I was relieved when Steve finally arrived. He was a middle-aged man who introduced himself in a warm and professional way. He shook my hand, and told me to follow him and he'd help get me started. "Get me started doing what?" I wondered as he led me up a staircase to the second floor. On the way, I saw that the business was quite a bit larger than I'd originally thought. On the second floor, he led me through a door into an 'employee only' section. To the left was a bathroom, and he held open the door for me.