Part 2: THEM
Prerna woke up, realizing that she needed to go to the washroom, and looked at her watch in the dim light coming from the other side of the curtain. It was 3 AM by her watch. Not wanting to disturb her husband, she quietly got up and groped for her sandals in the dark. He was sleeping soundly. Stepping into the aisle without any noise, she headed straight to the lavatories to her right, as they were nearer.
Everyone was fast asleep; it seemed there was no movement in the whole carriage, except for a lovely married lady heading to answer nature’s call. Reaching the well-lit vestibule, she opened the door to the Indian style toilet (she preferred them in public places as there was no contact with the seat) and relieved herself. Damn, she thought, as she let out a gush of urine! She should have taken a pee before going to sleep.
Annoyed at the break in her sleep, but now well relieved, she headed back to the vestibule to go back to her berth. But to her surprise, the well-lit vestibule moments ago, was now dark. Stumbling, and aided by a flicker of light coming from inside the carriage, she took a couple of tentative steps, before she was almost knocked off her feet!
At first it seemed to be a crash, she thought that the train had met with an accident and that she had been jolted backwards by its force. But then, she became aware of a tight grip around her waist and also a rough palm over her mouth. Now inside the Western style lavatory on the other side of the vestibule which was well-lit, she became fully aware of her situation.
It wasn’t a train crash! A man had appeared out of the Western style lavatory as she was heading back. She had been grabbed from behind; a strong palm put over her mouth, and pulled into the Western style lavatory. It was a small space, as most of it was occupied by the toilet seat. She was being held in such a manner that her back was towards the mirror, and she couldn’t see his face.
In reflex, she was began to scream into the palm of her captor, making a muffled noise; at the same wriggling her body, trying to free herself from his grip.
He loved it when women struggled, even more so when they had no chance of escaping what was in store for them. He turned her left by ninety degrees almost effortlessly and pinned her to the wall. Then he let go of the grip around her waist, knowing perfectly well that his weight was more than enough to prevent her from moving. He fumbled in his pocket and took out a small pocket knife, which he held against his captive’s neck.
Make one noise and I’ll cut your neck and throw you out of this moving train, he snarled. He was happy that it had the desired effect on her. He had scared her to death.
Just do as I say and you wouldn’t get hurt, he said, still pushing her against the wall.
He took out a piece of cloth from his pocket and tied it around her mouth, threatening her as he let go of his palm grip. Without even a try of scream from her, he had managed to replace her gag from his palm to the piece of cloth. Now, he released the hold on her body and made her turn around, forcing her to sit on the open Western style toilet seat. In seconds, he grabbed hold of her dupatta and used it to tie her hands to the water pipe behind the toilet seat. Tying the dupatta tightly around one wrist, he flung it around the water pipe, to bring it back in front and tied it around her other wrist. He had managed to complete the most precarious part of his task, the capture of his victim, within a couple of minutes.
He then stepped back as far as the small lavatory would allow him, to admire his handiwork.
The moment he had seen her step onto the carriage, he had known that he wanted her, very very badly. He saw her as a typical newlywed woman on her way to the hill station, to get fucked by her husband. He noticed the mehendi, still fresh on her hands (right upto her elbows); her traditional pink salwar suit along with a dupatta (not many women wore them these days!); a streak of red vermillion on her forehead just where her hair parted; her new mangalsutra which dangled proudly in front of her breasts; her hands almost full with designer bangles; and most importantly, the most natural ornament on her face – the mole near her upper lip.
He had her now, at his disposal, ready for his moment with this newlywed beautiful sophisticated lady, some other man’s wife.
The past couple of minutes had been a blur for Prerna. Pulled into the toilet, gagged, held against the wall, gagged, and then tied, everything happened so fast that she didn’t have time to register it. She became acutely aware of her situation when her captor stepped back, and looked her up and down, an evil smile forming on his face. Her hands were painfully tied to the water pipe behind her, in a very uncomfortable position.
It was then that she had her first look at that man, her captor. She saw him as an old man (50-55 years, she guessed), medium built, and a bit short. His belly was very large, out of proportion to the rest of his body (in a better state of mind, Prerna would have attributed that to chronic alcoholism!); it was almost spilling out of his shirt, which was unbuttoned all the way down to where his tummy bulge started. She saw his rough chest skin, covered with dense grey hair. She looked up to his face, which was wrinkled in a crude manner. His teeth, which she saw through that evil grin, were dirty, misaligned and eroded by constant chewing of tobacco. He was definitely not a man who belonged to an AC 2 tier compartment.
She saw him extend his evil smile; it was almost ear to ear now, making him look like an ugly goblin. Her mind was in a daze, unable to comprehend her position. But it was thrown into frenzy, with panic and despair filling her entire skull, as she heard, even over the loud rumbling sound of the train, the sound of a zipper being undone. Her eyes dropped to where her captor’s hands were. After undoing his zipper, she saw him unbuckle his trousers. Her eyes, instead of following the trousers as they fell down to the ground in a flash, remain glued to where his hands were. He was not wearing anything underneath; his semi-erect penis had sprung out the moment he had undone his trousers, which his right hand was now stroking.
The moment of reality struck her. Her captor was going to turn into her rapist.
Prerna screamed the loudest cry for help of her entire life. However, the perfect mouth gag and the loud rumble of the train, made sure that none of the passengers sleeping soundly in the AC carriage, heard it.
He saw her scream into the mouth gag. It made his semi-erect penis twitch with excitement. His mouth was wet with saliva, the tip of his penis with pre-cum. She gulped in desperation. He realized that the time window for his ‘suhaag raat’ was limited; he didn’t have the luxury of time.
As his hands reached the knot of her salwar, she began to wriggle, like a fish does when taken out of water. He couldn’t undo it as she was moving too much. With the back of his right hand, he slapped her right cheek violently. SMACK! And again, SMACK! Her body lumped at the ferocious attack, giving him time to undo her salwar with ease. He pulled it all the way down her smooth milky legs and removed it completely, absent-mindedly putting it on a rack above the mirror, which Prerna hadn’t noticed before. Before she could recover from the double blow to her face, he hooked his rough fingers at the waistband of her new pink panty (part of set of sexy lingerie she had bought for her wedding and honeymoon), and pulled it swiftly down; consciously making sure to pocket it (in his front chest pocket).
He expected her to be shaved down there, as were most of the newlywed women. What he didn’t expect was the feminine pinkness of her vulval lips, so beautiful and well, lady like; it was one of the smoothest vulva’s he had ever seen. His now almost-erect penis gave a bigger twitch of excitement.
He noticed her vulva was completely dry, which was a surprise to him. Normally, these newlyweds thought about sex 24x7, especially on the way to their honeymoons, fantasising about the sexual pleasures awaiting them; which made their vaginas ooze out sexuality, in anticipation for their imminent fucking. But that was not the case with her; maybe she wasn’t turned on by her husband.
Hurriedly, he caught hold of the lower edge of her kurta and pushed it upwards, over her breasts, bundling it around her neck. He took his hands to her back, unhooking her pink bra, and immediately bringing them back to the front, in order to squeeze her just exposed heavenly breasts. He let out a moan of pleasure as he felt the smoothness of her young breasts, the taut milky white skin and perky pink nipples. Without much ado, he took the right one in his dirty mouth and started to suck with all his might; mauling and pinching the left one with his right hand.
The sensation of something wet brought Prerna to her senses, which she hadn’t completely regained since the slaps. She realized that that ‘something wet’ on her breast was the saliva of his captor, pouring out copiously from his dirty mouth. She tried to wriggle again, to free her breasts from the painful assault, but couldn’t move an inch due to the grip which his captor had around her waist with his left hand.
Unable to move, she started shouting again into her gag. Hearing her muffled attempt at shouting for help, her captor let out a groan of self-accomplishment, a ‘huh’!
Although he would have loved to play with such perfect breasts all night long, all nights for his entire lifetime, he didn’t have much time at his disposal.
Prerna woke up, realizing that she needed to go to the washroom, and looked at her watch in the dim light coming from the other side of the curtain. It was 3 AM by her watch. Not wanting to disturb her husband, she quietly got up and groped for her sandals in the dark. He was sleeping soundly. Stepping into the aisle without any noise, she headed straight to the lavatories to her right, as they were nearer.
Everyone was fast asleep; it seemed there was no movement in the whole carriage, except for a lovely married lady heading to answer nature’s call. Reaching the well-lit vestibule, she opened the door to the Indian style toilet (she preferred them in public places as there was no contact with the seat) and relieved herself. Damn, she thought, as she let out a gush of urine! She should have taken a pee before going to sleep.
Annoyed at the break in her sleep, but now well relieved, she headed back to the vestibule to go back to her berth. But to her surprise, the well-lit vestibule moments ago, was now dark. Stumbling, and aided by a flicker of light coming from inside the carriage, she took a couple of tentative steps, before she was almost knocked off her feet!
At first it seemed to be a crash, she thought that the train had met with an accident and that she had been jolted backwards by its force. But then, she became aware of a tight grip around her waist and also a rough palm over her mouth. Now inside the Western style lavatory on the other side of the vestibule which was well-lit, she became fully aware of her situation.
It wasn’t a train crash! A man had appeared out of the Western style lavatory as she was heading back. She had been grabbed from behind; a strong palm put over her mouth, and pulled into the Western style lavatory. It was a small space, as most of it was occupied by the toilet seat. She was being held in such a manner that her back was towards the mirror, and she couldn’t see his face.
In reflex, she was began to scream into the palm of her captor, making a muffled noise; at the same wriggling her body, trying to free herself from his grip.
He loved it when women struggled, even more so when they had no chance of escaping what was in store for them. He turned her left by ninety degrees almost effortlessly and pinned her to the wall. Then he let go of the grip around her waist, knowing perfectly well that his weight was more than enough to prevent her from moving. He fumbled in his pocket and took out a small pocket knife, which he held against his captive’s neck.
Make one noise and I’ll cut your neck and throw you out of this moving train, he snarled. He was happy that it had the desired effect on her. He had scared her to death.
Just do as I say and you wouldn’t get hurt, he said, still pushing her against the wall.
He took out a piece of cloth from his pocket and tied it around her mouth, threatening her as he let go of his palm grip. Without even a try of scream from her, he had managed to replace her gag from his palm to the piece of cloth. Now, he released the hold on her body and made her turn around, forcing her to sit on the open Western style toilet seat. In seconds, he grabbed hold of her dupatta and used it to tie her hands to the water pipe behind the toilet seat. Tying the dupatta tightly around one wrist, he flung it around the water pipe, to bring it back in front and tied it around her other wrist. He had managed to complete the most precarious part of his task, the capture of his victim, within a couple of minutes.
He then stepped back as far as the small lavatory would allow him, to admire his handiwork.
The moment he had seen her step onto the carriage, he had known that he wanted her, very very badly. He saw her as a typical newlywed woman on her way to the hill station, to get fucked by her husband. He noticed the mehendi, still fresh on her hands (right upto her elbows); her traditional pink salwar suit along with a dupatta (not many women wore them these days!); a streak of red vermillion on her forehead just where her hair parted; her new mangalsutra which dangled proudly in front of her breasts; her hands almost full with designer bangles; and most importantly, the most natural ornament on her face – the mole near her upper lip.
He had her now, at his disposal, ready for his moment with this newlywed beautiful sophisticated lady, some other man’s wife.
The past couple of minutes had been a blur for Prerna. Pulled into the toilet, gagged, held against the wall, gagged, and then tied, everything happened so fast that she didn’t have time to register it. She became acutely aware of her situation when her captor stepped back, and looked her up and down, an evil smile forming on his face. Her hands were painfully tied to the water pipe behind her, in a very uncomfortable position.
It was then that she had her first look at that man, her captor. She saw him as an old man (50-55 years, she guessed), medium built, and a bit short. His belly was very large, out of proportion to the rest of his body (in a better state of mind, Prerna would have attributed that to chronic alcoholism!); it was almost spilling out of his shirt, which was unbuttoned all the way down to where his tummy bulge started. She saw his rough chest skin, covered with dense grey hair. She looked up to his face, which was wrinkled in a crude manner. His teeth, which she saw through that evil grin, were dirty, misaligned and eroded by constant chewing of tobacco. He was definitely not a man who belonged to an AC 2 tier compartment.
She saw him extend his evil smile; it was almost ear to ear now, making him look like an ugly goblin. Her mind was in a daze, unable to comprehend her position. But it was thrown into frenzy, with panic and despair filling her entire skull, as she heard, even over the loud rumbling sound of the train, the sound of a zipper being undone. Her eyes dropped to where her captor’s hands were. After undoing his zipper, she saw him unbuckle his trousers. Her eyes, instead of following the trousers as they fell down to the ground in a flash, remain glued to where his hands were. He was not wearing anything underneath; his semi-erect penis had sprung out the moment he had undone his trousers, which his right hand was now stroking.
The moment of reality struck her. Her captor was going to turn into her rapist.
Prerna screamed the loudest cry for help of her entire life. However, the perfect mouth gag and the loud rumble of the train, made sure that none of the passengers sleeping soundly in the AC carriage, heard it.
He saw her scream into the mouth gag. It made his semi-erect penis twitch with excitement. His mouth was wet with saliva, the tip of his penis with pre-cum. She gulped in desperation. He realized that the time window for his ‘suhaag raat’ was limited; he didn’t have the luxury of time.
As his hands reached the knot of her salwar, she began to wriggle, like a fish does when taken out of water. He couldn’t undo it as she was moving too much. With the back of his right hand, he slapped her right cheek violently. SMACK! And again, SMACK! Her body lumped at the ferocious attack, giving him time to undo her salwar with ease. He pulled it all the way down her smooth milky legs and removed it completely, absent-mindedly putting it on a rack above the mirror, which Prerna hadn’t noticed before. Before she could recover from the double blow to her face, he hooked his rough fingers at the waistband of her new pink panty (part of set of sexy lingerie she had bought for her wedding and honeymoon), and pulled it swiftly down; consciously making sure to pocket it (in his front chest pocket).
He expected her to be shaved down there, as were most of the newlywed women. What he didn’t expect was the feminine pinkness of her vulval lips, so beautiful and well, lady like; it was one of the smoothest vulva’s he had ever seen. His now almost-erect penis gave a bigger twitch of excitement.
He noticed her vulva was completely dry, which was a surprise to him. Normally, these newlyweds thought about sex 24x7, especially on the way to their honeymoons, fantasising about the sexual pleasures awaiting them; which made their vaginas ooze out sexuality, in anticipation for their imminent fucking. But that was not the case with her; maybe she wasn’t turned on by her husband.
Hurriedly, he caught hold of the lower edge of her kurta and pushed it upwards, over her breasts, bundling it around her neck. He took his hands to her back, unhooking her pink bra, and immediately bringing them back to the front, in order to squeeze her just exposed heavenly breasts. He let out a moan of pleasure as he felt the smoothness of her young breasts, the taut milky white skin and perky pink nipples. Without much ado, he took the right one in his dirty mouth and started to suck with all his might; mauling and pinching the left one with his right hand.
The sensation of something wet brought Prerna to her senses, which she hadn’t completely regained since the slaps. She realized that that ‘something wet’ on her breast was the saliva of his captor, pouring out copiously from his dirty mouth. She tried to wriggle again, to free her breasts from the painful assault, but couldn’t move an inch due to the grip which his captor had around her waist with his left hand.
Unable to move, she started shouting again into her gag. Hearing her muffled attempt at shouting for help, her captor let out a groan of self-accomplishment, a ‘huh’!
Although he would have loved to play with such perfect breasts all night long, all nights for his entire lifetime, he didn’t have much time at his disposal.