The Subway Series

[Blondie]

The following is applicable to all chapters of “The Subway Series:”

© December 2018 by Blondie.

This is a work of fiction and is fantasy only. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author's imagination and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

For ages 18 and older only.

Introduction
Chapter 1: Robbed on the Subway—Of Everything
Chapter 2: First Female Victim (ENF)



Introduction

Sorry, you baseball fans out there. This is not a piece about the rivalry games between the New York Yankees and New York Mets. Hopefully for most of you it will be far more interesting—or, better yet, stimulating—than that.

You see, for over thirty years I was the head of security for the entire subway system of a large city. I was very conscientious about my job, and I insisted that every case involving criminal activity come through me, regardless of its level of severity. As you can probably imagine, during my tenure I came across some very interesting and unusual cases.

In the following accounts I will not be describing the more commonly reported crimes, such as pickpocketing, purse-snatching, and most other various forms of petty theft. To be sure, those types of crimes kept me busy, but the types of crimes I will be describing here involve occurrences that are a little more, shall I say, on the provocative side. Most often they involved the nonconsensual removal of some of the victim's clothing (and in some cases, all of their clothing!), always leading to considerable embarrassment, and at times to downright humiliation. I can't tell you why these types of events piqued my prurient interests. I can tell you under no uncertain terms that they absolutely did just that.

If you happen to be of the same ilk, I'm pretty sure you will have some interest in the following accounts. For the benefit of the reader, I've decided to relay the details of the events in story-like fashion. This was made possible because in each case I performed a thorough investigation, thus procuring extensive details from the victim, witnesses, and in many cases the perpetrator(s) in the event that they were identified and arrested.

* * * * *

Over a period of almost six months there was a gang of seven young females (ages ranging from 19 to 24) who preyed on innocent victims on the subway. They were involved in several cases that came to my attention during that time. As you will see, robbery was not the overriding stimulus for their acts.

In case you are wondering how these culprits managed to skirt the law for so long, there are a couple of factors involved. First of all, due to budget constraints, a surveillance system was for the most part non-existent during that time (the actions of the gang of seven finally led to the implementation of cameras). Also, because of the nature of the crimes, the victims were quite hesitant to divulge some of the important but embarrassing details, if they were willing to come forward at all.

The young ladies were eventually apprehended, which gave me the opportunity to question each of them extensively. I had already heard some of the accounts of their crimes from their unfortunate victims and/or from witnesses, so the details of their confessions corroborated their accounts. It also gave me another perspective, which helped greatly in formulating the stories below.

I can tell you that they really enjoyed themselves in the process of committing their depravities. Despite their pending fate, a couple of them were actually smiling and giggling as they recounted their crimes to me.

In the following accounts, I have changed the names of the victims to protect their innocence.

* * * * *

Author's note: So far I only have two chapters written for this series. The first one is an ENM piece, while the second one depicts an ENF. I do plan on continuing this series at some point. I enjoyed writing it up, and the premise lends itself to various juicy possibilities.

[Blondie]

Chapter 1: Robbed on the Subway—Of Everything

On the day of the crime Harold Stevens was four days beyond his twenty-first birthday. He was average height, slim and didn't look a day over seventeen. Blessed with extremely high intelligence, he had skipped two grades during his school years and had graduated from college by the age of nineteen. Amazingly, he was already a successful businessman at his ripe young age.

One early fall morning, as per usual, he waited on the crowded platform for his subway train to take him to work. At one point he noticed a group of mostly attractive young ladies talking and collectively smiling at him. He smiled back but immediately averted his gaze, as a sense of uneasiness swept upon him. Much to Harold's misfortune, that sense of uneasiness would prove to be well-founded.

The train arrived, and as Harold boarded he experienced more than the usual pushing and shoving in the very crowded car. That's because, as Harold would soon discover, the seven smiling young ladies had surrounded him and had managed to steer him into a favorable place—favorable for them, that is.

Two of the ladies had taken two recently vacated seats that faced toward the middle of the car. Harold had been jostled into a position directly facing them. The other five had formed a semi-circle around the two seats and behind the ill-fated Harold, effectively shielding him from the view of the other passengers.

The leader of the group, a tall, well-dressed brunette by the name of Amanda Nelson had taken a position directly behind him. Amanda had in her possession a razor-sharp switchblade, which she held hidden in her right hand. The weapon would serve her well in her humiliation of Harold Stevens, who had no idea of the magnitude of dishonor that was about to be bestowed upon him.

Harold had appraised his situation and figured he best try to relocate, as difficult as that might be in the highly congested subway train. His efforts would prove to be fruitless, as the ladies on either side completely thwarted his movement. When he tried to turn around he felt a very sharp object pushed against his back. He then heard the husky but feminine voice from the tall lady behind him. "If you try to get away this will go straight into your balls. Trust me, I will cut you." For emphasis, as she uttered the word "balls" she slipped her free hand between his legs and clutched his testicles through his pants, using a firm grip.

The shaken Harold stood petrified. He was defenseless and he had no reason to believe that the aggressor behind him would hesitate to use her weapon if he didn't comply. Plus, she had six of her friends surrounding him and he had nowhere to go.

Amanda, with one hand still holding the knife against his back, reached into Harold's back pocket and removed his wallet. There was no resistance from her victim, which satisfied Amanda that she had him under her control. "I'm going to put my knife away," she said in his ear. "Don't give me any reason to pull it out, because if you do I will use it. Do you understand?" Harold nodded. "Good boy," replied Amanda while patting him on the spot where his wallet used to be.

She took out the $73 in cash from the wallet, along with a few credit cards and stuffed them in her pocket. She looked at the name and address on the driver's license. "Nice to meet you, Harold," she said.

Amanda shoved the wallet back into Harold's pocket, then reached forward and fished into his front pocket, pulled out his iPhone and held it up to Harold's face. Sure enough, the facial recognition feature kicked in and the phone lit up. Amanda scanned the apps and found what she was hoping for. She tapped the PayPal icon and the Face ID request displayed. Again she reached around and held it in front of Harold's miserable expression. Amanda's eyes widened when she saw the PayPal balance figure of $46,000.

"Holy shit, Harold. You're just my little cash cow today, aren't you," she said delightedly. She tapped the Send button and entered her email address, followed by a series of numbers. She then tapped another Send button followed by a confirmation, and her deed was done.

"I did you a big favor, Harold. I left $1000 in your account. You can thank me later." Amanda giggled to herself, then was deep in thought for a spell. Finally, she came up with a plan.

"You have my contact information now, Harold. You wouldn't report that to anyone, would you?"

"N-No. No, I wouldn't. I promise," he said nervously.

"I believe you, Harold," replied Amanda. "But I need to make sure." She looked Harold up and down from behind. He was wearing a dark suit. "Take off your coat."

Harold was already out over forty-five thousand dollars, and probably an iPhone. It appeared now that she might be after his new two-thousand-dollar suit. He did not want to turn that over, especially on a crowded subway train. "Please," he pleaded. "I'm begging you. I promise I won't pursue this."

"The only thing you'll pursue is taking off your coat. Don't make me pull out my blade."

"Oh, God," said Harold as he slowly peeled off his coat.

"Now hand it to the girl sitting in front of you with the big shopping bag."

The girl was, of course, part of the band of seven. She was the youngest of the bunch, having turned nineteen during the previous month. Grinning, she reached out and pulled the coat from Harold's loose grasp. The coat then disappeared into the bottom of her shopping bag.

"That's a good boy, Harold," said Amanda.

She then addressed the two young ladies in the seat. She spoke just softly enough for them to hear, but not quite loudly enough for the other passengers to hear over the clatter of the train. "Girls, I'd like Harold to be barefoot, but I don't think he will have enough room to bend down. Would you be kind enough to lean over and remove his shoes and socks for him?" The two grinning young ladies were all too eager to participate in Harold's pending humiliation, and they had his newly-polished shoes and his silk socks in the shopping bag in short order.

Without missing a beat Amanda reached around Harold with both hands and began deftly loosening his tie. Within seconds she had it completely undone, and without prompting the young girl in the seat reached up and pulled it from the confines of Harold's collar.

When Harold felt Amanda's hand fiddling with his top button he was panic-stricken, made obvious by his trembling torso and sweaty brow. "Don't be afraid, Harold," said Amanda in his ear with a soothing voice. "If you cooperate with me you will not be harmed."

Of course, there is physical harm and there is psychological harm. At that moment the latter is what concerned Harold the most. "Please," Harold begged, his voice quivering. Amanda had finished off the last button and pulled the shirt tail from his trousers. Quite conscious of Amanda's threat, he showed no physical resistance. "You can have my money. Just—please, don't do this."

"Finish taking your shirt off for me and hand it over," was her response.

"Oh, God," whimpered Harold as he unbuttoned his sleeves and pulled off his shirt. The woman in front of him dutifully pulled it from his grasp and added the garment to her growing collection. A white V-neck tee shirt remained on Harold's upper body.

"This too," ordered Amanda with a slight tug upward of the tee shirt.

Harold remained motionless, momentarily unwilling—or unable—to do her bidding. Ultimately he tried appealing to Amanda one more time. "I promise....I promise on my grandmother's grave that I will keep this to myself," he implored. "Please, don't take this any further, and all is forgotten."

"You say that now, Harold, but after I'm gone I need assurance that you will keep that promise. Besides, I must tell you that I'm rather enjoying this. Now hand over your tee shirt, and if I get any more resistance from you there will be consequences."

Harold did not need to be reminded of the sharp consequences Amanda was referring to. Eliciting smiles from all seven of his aggressors, Harold pulled the tee shirt over his head and meekly handed it to the outstretched hand in front of him. Harold noticed the grins of the two seated girls grow wider as they stared at Harold's bare, hairless chest. Now blushing profusely, he self-consciously crossed his arms over his chest and took a furtive look at his surroundings. It appeared to him that Amanda and her six cohorts had formed enough of a shield around him so that no one else had yet taken notice of his condition.

That minor sense of relief was hardly consolation for him when he felt Amanda reach around his waist and undo his belt. When she undid the clasp of his pants Harold couldn't help himself and instinctively tried to push her hands away. Amanda decided to give Harold one last pass. "This is your last chance," she promptly said. She looked up. "Grab the safety bar above your head." Harold obediently reached up and held onto the bar with his left hand. "Both hands," Amanda commanded. He did so and was now fully stretched out and feeling ever so vulnerable. "Don't even think about letting go until I get off the train," she said.

Amanda, who had already vocalized her enjoyment of her victim's humiliation, slowly, teasingly started pulling down the zipper of Harold's pants. She leaned her face forward and stopped when her lips were about an inch from his ear. "I need to embarrass you, Harold," she said. "Really embarrass you." The zipper was all the way down and Amanda pulled the material away from his waist, then let go. With the path downward unencumbered, much to the delight of Amanda and her cohorts, the weight of the belt was enough to cause the pants to slide swiftly down his slender legs, coming to rest in a pool at his ankles. Harold, whose glowing face nearly matched the color of his red boxer briefs, continued to hold onto the bar while writhing in mortification. "Step out of your pants now, Harold," said the giggling Amanda. Harold did so and they were immediately scooped up and stuffed in the shopping bag containing the rest of his precious clothes. "Are you quite embarrassed now, Harold?"

"Yes! Please! That's enough!" he said breathlessly, being careful to speak softly enough so as not to attract attention from the other so-far clueless passengers.

"Oh, but Harold," replied the sadistic Amanda. "You have such a cute little body. It would be a shame to stop now." As she spoke she stroked the backs of his thighs, which were sparsely populated with hair. "My friends would be deeply disappointed if they didn't get to see what you're sporting inside those briefs, big boy."

"Please! I'm begging you!" pleaded the frantic Harold.

"Besides," she teased as she slipped her hands inside the back of his waist band and gently caressed his buttocks. "Like I said, I need to really embarrass you. Can you imagine what it would be like being completely naked in public on a crowded subway?"

At that point Harold certainly could imagine that very concept, and it absolutely terrified him.

"Are you ready, big boy? It's time for your coming out party," said Amanda, giggling at her attempt at humor. Amanda, her hands still inside the briefs of the beleaguered commuter, pushed the briefs slowly but resolutely down to Harold's knees. She watched the reaction of her two seated friends, and she wasn't disappointed. Of course, both were staring at Harold's newly exposed genitals. One of them had her hand covering her fully opened, grinning mouth, while the other was simply laughing hysterically. The giggling emanating from her other four friends was music to her ears.

Using her foot, Amanda pushed the briefs to the floor of the train. "Kick those off for me, Harold. You need to be completely naked for me." Harold, who was practically numb from humiliation, complied by stepping out of his briefs and pushing them toward the awaiting grasp, and watched hopelessly as they disappeared into the shopping bag. His hands still held the bar above, and he was fully exposed, indeed completely naked in public on a crowded subway.

Amanda addressed her good-looking companion, the one who had her hand over her mouth. Her name was Joanie, but Amanda was careful not to say the name out loud. "Sweetie, we need some nice pictures of our naked friend." Joanie, who already had snapped a few photos at various stages of the stripping, was all too eager to assist.

"Do you and....and our friends want to turn away while I take these?" asked Joan.

"No, that won't be necessary. I don't think Harold is going to want these pictures to get out, but if he does break his promise we can always blur out our faces. Click away."

"I should probably take some of these with the zoom if we want to see his little pecker," joked Joanie, drawing considerable laughter from her friends. In truth, Harold's penis was a fairly normal size, but the remark and certainly the ensuing laughter served to intensify his already extreme humiliation.

After Joanie had snapped a bundle of pictures Amanda put both hands around Harold's waist and gently turned him. "Turn around and face me," she coaxed. As he turned he started to drop his hands. "Uh uh uh," she reprimanded. "Hands on the bar."

While Joanie added pictures of Harold's backside to her collection, Amanda was busy checking out her subject. Smiling, she looked up from Harold's midsection to his now scarlet face. "You're kind of a pretty boy, aren't you, Harold? I could have some fun with you," she said as she caressed his chest. "I should take you home and make you my little sissy slave. Would you like that, Harold?" She cupped her hand around his burning cheek. "Ah, now you are really embarrassed. Are you really embarrassed, Harold?" The wretched Harold managed to slightly nod his head. "Good, Harold. Good. That's what I was striving for. And I'm going to have some wonderful pictures of you all embarrassed in your naked glory. And I have all your contacts in case you don't keep your promise of keeping quiet about our encounter here today.

"Oh, speaking of that, I'm going to keep your phone. Don't try any funny business like locking your phone remotely. You'll have to get a new phone and a new number because this one belongs to me now." Amanda stopped and considered her options for a moment, then looked up at Harold with a twinkle in her eyes. "I have your email address now. I might have to get in touch with you down the road and maybe we can meet up again for some more fun and games." The miserable expression on Harold's face spoke volumes, as he must have realized that his whole world was now turned upside down.

"I'm almost done with you for today, Harold. Turn back around for me. I'd just like to get a few more pictures." When Harold was facing the other way Amanda slid both hands around and to the front of his waist, then lowered them. "We have some nice pictures of little Harold. Maybe we can get some of big Harold," she said as she began by strumming his pubic hair with one hand and tickling his balls with the other. Despite his dire circumstances it didn't take long for Harold's involuntary reaction. While Joanie snapped away with her camera phone, Amanda continued to toy with Harold's sensitivities. When she expertly stroked the frenulum of his penis it stood at full attention. Amanda wrapped her hand around the enlarged organ and was quite surprised. "Wow, Harold, you really are a big boy when you're in your happy zone." She stroked her hand up and down, and about a minute later Harold was getting ever so close to ejaculation. The train was slowly coming to a stop and Amanda let go of her prize.

"Here's where we get off. If you want to "get off" you'll have to finish it yourself," she giggled.

"Here's the deal, Harold. I don't want you following us out. You are to continue holding on to the safety bar until we get off the train. If you don't I will send a nice picture to a random contact on your phone." Amanda reached around Harold and picked up the bag of clothes. "As long as you comply I will leave this sitting by the exit so you can retrieve your clothes." Harold's breathing became heavier as he realized that in the next few moments there would be many more witnesses to his naked condition.

"Thank you, Harold, you are such a sweetie," said Amanda. "I really think we should get together again." She gave him a peck on the cheek and turned away, followed by her six entertained friends.

The nearly hysterical Harold somehow managed to hold on to the bar while some of the other incredulous passengers took in the scene as they disembarked. A few of them captured the moment with their cell phone cameras. Harold watched anxiously toward the exit, and sure enough, Amanda was true to her word. She set down the bag, looked back at Harold, blew him a playful kiss, then was gone.

Harold wasted no time. He dropped his hands, covered his groin and made a move toward his clothes.

But Harold had one more most regrettable incident in store for him. A kind soul who was leaving the train shortly after Amanda had noticed her setting down the bag. The kind soul grabbed the bag, jumped off the train and set off in chase.

"No! That's mine!" screamed Harold in exasperation.

But it was too late.

"Yoo-hoo, young lady!" Harold could hear her yell just as the door closed in front of him. As the train moved along the platform Harold looked out and saw the grinning Amanda thanking the lady for her efforts.

Before the train passed her by, Amanda looked up and while making eye contact with the embattled Harold, she grinned and shrugged her shoulders while holding his bag of clothes.

The tomato-faced Harold turned around and took in the sight of dozens of very amused passengers peering at him from every angle.

* * * * *

I met with the ill-fated Harold Stevens during the late morning on the day of the crime. After the last stop a passenger reported a naked young man cowering under a seat. One of my deputies had wrapped a brown blanket around him and he was seated across my desk.

I interviewed him, but he fudged quite a bit on the details. He told me he was robbed by a gang of men, and they took his clothes so he wouldn't follow them.

Months later, after Amanda Nelson and her gang were arrested, I got the full story from him, and from the seven ladies. I also saw the pictures on the confiscated phone. I have to say that if I was in Mr. Stevens' shoes I would have been very hesitant to report the women criminals with the looming threat of the pictures going out to my contacts.

As for Amanda Nelson, I think the Harold Stevens case opened new doors for her. This was the first of several crimes committed on the subway by Ms. Nelson and her gang. It was quite apparent that she enjoyed herself along the way. I'm pretty sure that after her experience with Harold Stevens, the robberies took a back seat to her penchant for meting out humiliation on her victims.

* * * * *

A follow-up note: Amanda Nelson did indeed contact Harold Stevens not long after the initial crime. On more than one occasion she coerced him to meet her and her gang at different locations. During those times Ms. Nelson took advantage of the most unfortunate Mr. Stevens to satisfy her seemingly insatiable appetite for inflicting humiliation.

[Britguy]

Always one of my favourite Blondie stories. I hope you do write more someday.

[Blondie]

Chapter 2: First Female Victim (ENF)

A little less than a month after the Harold Stevens episode, a distraught, teary-eyed young lady was led into my office by my assistant. She was steadfastly holding her wrinkled blouse closed, as the buttons were missing. Like Mr. Stevens, she had been robbed in a subway car. Her attackers did not stop there. As in Mr. Stevens' case, she was subsequently subjected to indignities, much to her humiliation and, I should add, much to the enjoyment of the perpetrators.

In this case the victim was somewhat more forthcoming with some of the details of the robbery than was Mr. Stevens. But, for reasons which you will see reading forward, she left out a fair amount of what would have been useful information for me at the time.

I was able to ascertain that her attackers were a group of seven females, all somewhere around the age of twenty years old. As I found out later, the victim had access to the identity of the ringleader, one Amanda Nelson. But again, the reason for her reluctance to divulge such critical information will be apparent as you read on.

I was able to draw a few conclusions after speaking with the victim. One, the culprits in this case were the same offenders that violated Harold Stevens. Their M.O was quite similar in both cases, that of robbing and humiliating their victim. I figured that Harold Stevens was probably lying when he told me that he was attacked by several men. The female victim was quite believable and had no reason to fib about the genders of the perpetrators. Mr. Stevens, on the other hand, was likely too ashamed to admit that he had been robbed and humiliated by a group of young ladies.

Also, it had become apparent that neither gender was safe from being victimized by the fiendish female gang.

Lastly, it was quite evident that their motivation for their attacks went beyond financial gain, as they undeniably gained pleasure in humiliating their victims. Moreover, I will go so far as to say that between the two motives—robbery and humiliation—that the former took a back seat to the latter. Indeed, as their reign of terror progressed, there were several occasions (which I may touch on in a later chapter) when they carried out humiliating acts on their victims while no robbery took place.

To put it another way, while there were several acts of humiliation executed without a robbery, there were no robberies committed that did not include humiliation.

When I questioned Amanda Nelson and her gang after their arrest a few months following this incident, several of them were quite open to discussing the details of their crimes. Ms. Nelson in particular was quite accommodating. Truth be told, it was quite evident to me that she rather enjoyed retelling the specifics of her misdeeds, as if she was reliving what for her were pleasurable experiences.

Their accounts of this case, along with what I obtained from the victim, were descriptive enough to enable me to relate the events to you in story-like fashion.

As before, I have changed the name of the victim to protect her innocence.

* * * * *

Kimberly Bradford set out for a shopping spree in the big city on a late Saturday morning. Little did she know that a life-changing—at least for the short term—event awaited her.

Amanda Nelson and six of her companions stood on the platform of the 42nd Street station. They surveyed the various subway patrons, in search of a potential target. At one point Amanda thought she might have spotted her mark in a thirty-something man with an expensive knapsack slung across his shoulder. But then she spotted a young, attractive well-dressed woman carrying a designer handbag.

"That's the one," Amanda said out loud. Her companions agreed—not that they would ever question their leader's judgment on such matters.

When the subway train arrived, Kimberly entered a car, and was followed closely behind by the group of seven women who would have a huge impact on her shopping plans.

As is the norm, the train was considerably less congested than it would be on a weekday. Kimberly contentedly picked a window seat on the right side of the car. There was no one else within three rows of seats, in front or behind her. That would soon change.

When Amanda plopped down into the seat right next to her, Kimberly was slightly annoyed, as her solitude was abruptly and unnecessarily denied.

What the hell? Go find an empty row.

When the two seats in front of her became occupied, followed by the two seats behind her, then followed by the two seats directly across the aisle, Kimberly momentarily thought that the train was inexplicably filling up. But when she availed herself to a quick glance around the car, she could see that wasn't the case.

Something's not right here.

"I like your purse," complimented Amanda.

"Um...thanks," answered Kimberly as she fidgeted a bit nervously.

"It looks very expensive," continued Amanda. Kimberly clutched her purse a little tighter, as she looked out her window without responding. "May I see what's inside?" asked Amanda.

Kimberly, now more than a little uncomfortable with her unwelcome seatmate, made a move to get up. That is, until she was suddenly confronted with a large, sharp blade that had just sprung from its slot. "Have a seat," directed the switchblade's owner.

Kimberly, now more frightened than she could ever remember, slumped back in her seat. "Please," she pleaded. "Please don't hurt me."

"I won't hurt you," answered Amanda, who was still brandishing the knife. "As long as you just sit back and do as I say."

Amanda took the handbag from Kimberly, who relented without resistance. Amanda reached in and extracted a billfold. Upon opening, a driver's license appeared in the front compartment. "Kimberly Bradford, 26 years old," said Amanda as she scanned the I.D. "Nice to meet you, Kimberly. May I call you Kimmy?" Kimberly, now trembling, didn't respond. Amanda continued to inspect the contents of the billfold, and eventually pulled out several plastic cards. She showed one of the cards—a debit card—to her anxious seatmate. "What's the security code?" asked Amanda.

Kimberly hesitated, then answered. "7433," she said.

"So, if I have one of my friends here," said Amanda as she motioned around her, "get off at the next stop and attempt a transaction at the ATM, she won't call me and tell me the code didn't work?"

Kimberly's eyes widened. She was not expecting Amanda's sly maneuver. Indeed, she had lied about the number. "Wait....that number was for something else. This one would be 8283."

"I believe you now, Kimmy. But I'm not happy that you tried to deceive me."

Amanda continued to explore the purse until she found what she was looking for. She pulled out an iPhone and turned it on. "What's the passcode?" asked Amanda.

"828382," replied Kimberly miserably.

"You really should try to mix up your passwords," said Amanda. "If your phone ever got into the wrong hands, you might live to regret it." Amanda scanned the home screen and found an icon for a bank. She pressed on it, and a request for facial recognition appeared. She held it in front of the distraught Kimberly, and it opened. "Bingo," said Amanda as numbers for a checking account appeared. "A little over $16,000." Amanda then found an icon for Venmo, a mobile payment service. "Is your checking account linked to Venmo? You better not lie to me," said Amanda as she showed Kimberly the sharp end of her blade.

"Y-yes," she responded.

Amanda knew that Venmo had a daily limit for person-to-person payments. With a few presses she expertly initiated a transfer of $5,000 from the account of Kimberly Bradford to an account under the name of Amanda Nelson. "FYI you just sent me five thousand dollars. Thank you for that. Tomorrow we're going to do the same thing. And the day after that. You wouldn't do anything to stop that process, would you now, Kimmy?" Kimberly shook her head vigorously. "I know you are saying that now," said Amanda. "But after I let you go, how can I know you won't change your mind?"

"I won't," answered Kimberly. "Please, let me go. I promise."

"Well, the way I see it," said Amanda, "we have an issue here. For one thing, you can easily get my information now that you have transferred money to me. On top of that, you've already lied to me. Why should I think I can trust you, Kimmy?"

"P-please, I promise. I won't say anything. Please, you have my purse, and my cards. You have everything," said Kimberly desperately.

"Not everything," said Amanda with a sly smile as she looked Kimberly up and down. Kimberly's jaw dropped. She had a pretty good idea what Amanda meant, and it terrified her to her core. "That's right, sweetie," said Amanda, recognizing the look of terror in the eyes of her prey. "I need a guarantee that you won't rat me out. And I know just how to get it." Again Amanda smiled while regarding Kimberly Bradford from head to toe, causing Kimberly to shudder and cross her arms over her chest. "I need to humiliate you," said Amanda. "Really humiliate you, so you never talk to anyone about our.....our new relationship."

"Please....I won't....I won't talk!"

"Yes, when I'm through with you I'm sure you won't. Would you be humiliated if I made you strip to your underwear, right here, right now?" asked Amanda calmly.

"Oh God, please....no!"

"Oh, you wouldn't be humiliated? Okay, how about if I made you take off your underwear, too, and get naked for me?"

"No! Yes, I'd be humil—embarrassed to....to be in my underwear. Please, I promise I won't say anything. Just....just take my purse. And you have my money."

Just then, two faces appeared from the tops of the two seats in front of the engaged twosome. They were both looking Kimberly over, and both grinning lasciviously, causing Kimberly to shudder once again.

"Take your top off," ordered Amanda as she gently tugged on Kimberly's long-sleeved, maroon-colored blouse, pulling it partway out of her starched black pants.

"No! Please!" begged Kimberly.

Kimberly made no motion to do her bidding, so Amanda motioned to one of her friends that was sitting directly behind them. The next thing Kimberly felt was her long, straight black hair being grasped. Her head was forced backward against her seat back and a large portion of her hair was held above her head. A pair of scissors then appeared in front of her eyes. "You have really nice hair, Kimmy," said Amanda. "It would be a shame if we had to cut it off." The scissors then opened and closed in front of her face. The threat was all too real, from Kimberly's perspective. "And when all is said and done," continued Amanda, "you will be stripped to your underwear. It's up to you whether your hair comes off with your clothes or not." Without a word, Kimberly, now sniffling, reached for the top button of her blouse. "Good girl, Kimmy," encouraged Amanda.

But, probably realizing that once she started to comply with her antagonist's request that there would be no turning back, Kimberly dropped her hands to her lap. "I can't do this," she stated. "Please, I'm begging you."

Without a word, Amanda took the top button of Kimberly's blouse between her forefinger and thumb, then used her blade to effortlessly snip it off. She tossed the button to the floor, then proceeded to execute the same procedure with the remaining four buttons. Kimberly offered no resistance, likely feeling quite intimidated by the menacing blade's close proximity to her torso.

While the twosome in front of them looked on with toothy grins, Amanda pulled the blouse from the confines of Kimberly's pants and spread it open, revealing a flat, white tummy and a black bra. "Take it off," ordered Amanda, while tugging on the blouse with one hand and pressing the tip of her blade to Kimberly's belly button with the other.

The embattled Kimberly received the message, loudly and clearly. Sniveling a bit louder, she slowly leaned forward and pulled the blouse from her body. Amanda, now confident that her subject was driven to submission, closed the blade and shoved it into her pocket.

"You can hand that to Joanie," said Amanda while pointing to her friend, who was leaning over the seat directly in front of Kimberly. The grinning Joanie reached out her hand, and Kimberly reluctantly handed over her damaged garment, which quickly disappeared from her sight. "Very nice," cooed Amanda while looking at Kimberly's exposed torso and strumming her fingers up and down Kimberly's bicep. Kimberly recoiled her upper body, visibly uneasy over the physical contact. "Oh, don't be scared, Kimmy," said Amanda. "I'm not going to hurt you, as long as you obey me. I'm only going to humiliate you."

Amanda looked Kimberly up and down. "You're a very attractive lady, Kimmy, and I'm really looking forward to seeing you in your underwear." Amanda looked at the blushing Kimberly and grinned salaciously. "So, tell me what you're going to do next," said Amanda. There was no response from Kimberly, who was perceptibly trembling. "Tell me what you're going to do next, Kimmy," repeated Amanda.

"P-please....don't do this to me." Amanda nodded to her friend behind her, who swiftly grabbed the back of Kimberly's hair and cut off about one inch from the bottom. "No!" shrieked Kimberly, but the deed was already done. Amanda accepted the clipped hair from her friend and displayed it for the frightened Kimberly before letting the strands flutter to the floor. "That was a warning," said Amanda. "Now, Kimmy, tell me what you are going to do next."

"I-I'm going to....to take off my pants."

"Good, Kimmy! Now you're getting it!" said Amanda. All eyes were on the distressed Kimberly Bradford as she despairingly leaned over and removed her three-inch high heels. "I'll take those," said Amanda. Everyone watched curiously as Amanda placed the heels under her seat. Kimberly then unfastened her skinny, patent-leather black belt and unbuttoned her pants, revealing her black panties. As her captors looked on wide-eyed and grinning, Kimberly, after wavering for a long spell, slid her pants down her long, shapely legs. One of the girls let out a soft whistle. Kimberly, now more frightened—and embarrassed—than she had ever been in her entire life, left her pants scrunched at her ankles while leaning over with her head in her arms at her knees. "Off they go," prodded Amanda as she patted Kimberly on her bare back. Kimberly mustered up enough effort to pull her pants free from her feet. Joanie snapped her fingers while reaching her hand out. Within moments, Kimberly's pants disappeared by way of her blouse.

The mortified Kimberly was now on a public subway train, clad only in a pair of panties and a bra.

"Sit up straight, Kimmy," said Amanda as she pulled on her shoulder. Kimberly did so, with her knees squeezed tightly together and her arms crossed over her chest. Amanda caressed the top of Kimberly's naked thigh. "Very nice," said Amanda. She paused before continuing. "What size bra do you wear, Kimmy?"

"36C," said Kimberly despondently.

"Oh, that's perfect," said Amanda. "You have a beautiful body. Have you ever done any modeling?" The teary-eyed Kimberly didn't respond vocally but shook her head. "Well, today is your lucky day," said Amanda, while pointing to Joanie, who was perched on her seat, poised with her phone camera. "Now is your chance. Joanie is a very good photographer."

Wasting no time, Joanie snapped a couple of pictures of the horrified Kimberly. Amanda took hold of Kimberly's wrist and forcefully pulled it toward her. "Let's get those hands on the armrests. We should get a nice shot of your lovely chest."

"Say cheese!" said Joanie after she lowered her arms. Kimberly didn't say much of anything, but that didn't stop Joanie from snapping two more photos.

"Great!" said Amanda. "Let's get one more shot of you in the underwear." She took Kimberly's wrist and lifted it up. "Put your hands behind your head, elbows out." Amanda reached down with two hands and pulled Kimberly's knees apart. "Perfect. Now you're looking really hot."

"Say cheese!" said the grinning Joanie as she took several pictures of the miserable unfortunate.

"Excellent!" exclaimed Amanda. "You make a lovely model." She put her hand on Kimberly's thigh and spoke to her. "I'll bet you'd make a really good nude model. Don't you think so, Kimmy?"

"Oh, God, please, no!" begged Kimberly while shaking her head aggressively.

"Well, maybe I'm wrong. It's fair to get other opinions. What do you think?" she asked the two girls in front of her. "Wouldn't Kimmy be just a darling naked model?"

"Oh, absolutely!" said the girl directly in front of her, later identified as Haley.

"Oh, yes, she'd be adorable, sitting there all naked. I'd love to get some pictures of naked Kimmy," said Joanie.

"Ah, isn't that nice, Kimmy dear?" teased Amanda. "You have a new fan club, and your fans really want you to be naked."

"Oh! Please no! You can have my money. And my phone. I'm begging you! " implored Kimberly desperately.

"Tell me what you're going to do next, Kimmy."

"Please.....I just can't." Amanda looked behind her, nodded, and within ten seconds Amanda had another inch or so of Kimberly's pretty hair in her hand. "No!" Kimberly had protested, but again it had been too late.

"Tell me what you're going to do next, Kimmy," repeated Amanda.

"I'm...I'm going to take off my bra. Oh, shit!" cried out Kimberly as she reached behind her and unclasped her bra strap. Kimberly paused, then continued with the inevitable, slipping her bra down her arms and off. Crossing her arms across her now naked chest, she let the bra slip to her lap, while still clutching it with her fingers. Joanie stood on her seat, leaned over and snatched the bra from Kimberly's grasp. Then, instead of putting it away, she tied it to the handrail above her head, where it dangled for all to see. Considerable giggling broke out among the ranks of the gang of seven.

Meanwhile, Kimberly, now in the throes of wretchedness, sat squeezing her arms tightly against her chest. Of course, Amanda would soon rectify her defensive posture. "You can put your arms on the armrests, Kimmy," she said. "We'd all like to see your naked C-cups." For Kimberly it felt like she was pulling her arms down against an invisible force, but she managed to do Amanda's bidding, much to the entertainment of Amanda and her cohorts.

Kimberly looked around nervously and was chagrined to see that the two women that were behind her were now standing in the aisle, looking on intently. Also, the two that were sitting across the aisle were craning their necks, monitoring her closely. Counting Amanda and the two faces looking on from the tops of the seats in front of her, there were seven sets of eyes focusing on her bared breasts.

"You have really nice tits, Kimmy," complimented Amanda. Amanda reached for one of the exposed breasts, prompting Kimberly to spontaneously grab Amanda by the wrist, inducing a strong admonition from Amanda. She stared Kimberly down as she spoke. "If you dare touch me again, Kimmy, all of your clothes are going out the window, along with the rest of your hair. And if you don't believe me, go ahead and try me." Considering what she had experienced so far, Kimberly had no reason to doubt the veracity of what she had just heard. She let go of Amanda's wrist and compliantly lowered her arm to the armrest. "You really do have nice tits, Kimmy," repeated Amanda, this time while fondling her left breast. Kimberly squeezed her eyes tightly shut as she endured her latest humiliation. Amanda continued to explore the breast as she spoke. "I gave you a nice compliment, Kimmy. Aren't you going to thank me?" she said as she delicately toyed with Kimberly's nipple with the tip of her forefinger, causing it to harden and point straight out.

"Oh....please.......th-thank you." Her eyes remained squeezed shut and she had a death grip on her armrests.

"I mean, they're perfect, don't you think so, Joanie?" she said while looking up at her friend.

"They're exquisite," answered Joanie. "They're such a nice size, and I love how they don't sag. I must get a picture."

"Yes, definitely," said Amanda as she pulled away, discontinuing the molestation of her victim.

"You need to open your eyes, Kimmy," said Joanie as she readied the camera. "Open your eyes and say cheese." Kimberly managed to open her eyes but did not speak as she listened to the clicks of the phone. "Excellent!" said Joanie. "I got some marvelous shots of your lovely breasts. You really are a nice subject. Thank you, Kimmy."

Amanda nudged Kimberly in the side with her elbow. "Joanie thanked you, Kimmy. What do you say?"

"You're welcome," said Kimberly cheerlessly.

"Joanie's right, you really are a nice subject. You have a beautiful body and are quite photogenic. I'm so glad we were able to link up today and uncover your hidden talent." There was giggling all around, but there was no sound from the hapless Kimberly. "Speaking of 'uncovering,' I believe your fans still want to see you naked." Kimberly flinched, pressing her knees together. "Tell me what you're going to do next, Kimmy."

Kimberly, beaten and resigned to her ignominious fate, didn't hesitate for long. "Take off my panties," she said quietly and submissively.

"That's my girl, Kimmy," said Amanda with a smile as she brushed her hand across Kimberly's hair.

Without further ado, Kimberly lifted her bum and slid her panties down her legs, off her feet and handed them over to the grinning Joanie, who promptly tied them to the bottom of the hanging bra. Kimberly's intimates and last vestiges of her clothing were exhibited on full display, as if they were a form of a trophy for Amanda and her gang.

Kimberly Bradford sat naked in her seat, nearly numb from humiliation and from the unfathomable circumstance she found herself in. But the satanic Amanda was not yet done with her.

Kimberly had both hands covering her sex. That would be short-lived. "Arms on the armrests, Kimmy," directed Amanda. When she did so, Amanda used both hands to pry Kimberly's knees apart. She unabashedly stared at the newly uncovered area. "I like your pussy," said Amanda, eliciting a couple of giggles from her spectators. "That was a compliment, Kimmy," said the unrelenting Amanda.

"Thank you," said Kimberly with a quivery voice.

Amanda brushed her hand across Kimberly's pubic hair, causing her to jerk her torso demonstrably. "You do a really nice job of trimming your kitty," stated Amanda. "It looks fresh. Did you do that this morning?" The teary-eyed Kimberly nodded her head. "Oh, you look just....just ravishing. I could do you if we weren't in a public place." Amanda looked her prey up and down and licked her lips. "We need to get some naked pictures," declared Amanda.

"I'm on it!" said Joanie as she readied her camera. Joanie snapped two quick pictures, then looked to Amanda for guidance.

"Good, Kimmy," said Amanda. "Now let's get you on your knees, facing the camera." It took considerable resolve, but Kimberly did manage to force herself onto her knees in her seat. The expression on her face was one of absolute wretchedness. "That a girl, Kimmy. Now put your hands behind your head." She did so, and Joanie took a set of pictures, none of which, even in her worst nightmares, would Kimberly want anyone to see. Of course, that is exactly what Amanda had in mind.

"Excellent!" exclaimed Amanda. "Now let's get another set, this time from behind. Stay on your knees but turn around and face your seat." When she did so, Amanda yelled out, "Ooh, bootylicious!," while giving her ass cheek a playful slap, eliciting hearty laughs from the highly entertained group. Kimberly listened to the clicks from the camera as she took in the faces of a few of the passengers seated toward the back of the car. They did not know exactly what Kimberly was going through, but a couple of them had inquisitive looks on their faces. Of course, the bra and panty set dangling behind her certainly added to their curiosity, and probably their imaginations. They may well have had an inkling that a woman was under duress, but ultimately, as is common—especially with people from a big city—they had no desire to get involved.

"Great, we're almost done with the photo shoot. One more good pose oughtta do it. Let's get you on your hands and knees, facing me," said Amanda as she rose from her chair and stood in the aisle. "Joanie, why don't you get a shot of Kimmy from where you are, then come get one from this perspective."

"Good idea!" said Joanie, as she watched the beleaguered Kimberly acquiescently drop to her hands and knees. Joanie snapped two more photos, then moved in front of Kimberly. "Hold your head up, Kimmy, so I can see your tits," said Amanda. Kimberly, teary-eyed and miserable, lifted her head and Joanie took two more pictures.

"Very nice," said Amanda. "Now let's get you turned around. Stay on your hands and knees but facing the window." Kimberly forced herself to turn around. A single tear dripped from her cheek onto her seat, forming a tiny puddle. "Good girl, Kimmy," said Amanda. "Let's get those knees spread out a little.....a little more.....good, now drop down to your elbows for me.....all the way.....excellent, we can really see all your charms now."

"Say cheese!" said Joanie as she snapped two more pictures. "Oh, never mind, you're already smiling," she said, to the tune of considerable hilarity from her mates.

"Perfect! I think we're all set," declared Amanda as she reclaimed her seat next to the distraught Kimberly. "Okay, here's how it's going to work, Kimmy," she continued. "You're going to have to get a new phone, because I'm keeping this one. You'll have to get a new number because I'd like to keep this one active.

"Don't take any money out of your checking account for a couple of days, because I'll be sending myself $5000 tomorrow and another $5000 the next day. Let's see, what else....we'll keep your purse—it's such a nice one—and your credit cards. I know that sounds a little greedy, but look at it from my perspective. I have to split your money seven ways, so it really isn't that much—only a little over $2000 apiece. So we'll make up for it by splitting up your cards and going on a nice shopping binge today. I'm not a monster, so we won't be using them after today. Tomorrow, feel free to report your cards as lost or stolen.

"Now—and this is important—don't even think about pursuing me through our Venmo transactions."

Amanda looked up at Joanie. "Joanie, can I borrow your phone for a sec?" Joanie handed over her phone, and Amanda pulled up the recent photos. She showed Kimberly the picture of her naked, on her knees, then the one from behind, when she was facing the window. "I'm pretty sure you wouldn't want these pictures to go out to any of your contacts, right, Kimmy?" Kimberly shook her head dejectedly, while Amanda leafed through the contacts on Kimberly's phone. "Yes, I'm sure Mom and Dad would be appalled to see that their little girl has turned into such a hussy.

"So, do we have an agreement, Kimmy?" Kimberly somberly nodded her head. "Okay, you can go now," said Amanda while turning her knees to the left to help facilitate her exit.

Kimberly, though relieved to be done with the monster who claimed she wasn't a monster, still had a concern. "My clothes....may I have my clothes?" she said while looking up at Joanie.

"Oh, I forgot to mention," said Amanda. "While you were busy with your photo session, Haley transferred your clothes to another car. You'll find them on the handrail. Haley, are Kimmy's clothes in the next car?"

"No, the one after. There were more people on that one," answered Haley cheerily.

"So you'll find them hanging on the handrail, two cars up," said Amanda with a grin.

"Oh God," said Kimberly as she started to rise from her chair.

"Wait, I'd like you to put these on," said Amanda as she reached under her chair for Kimberly's high heels. Kimberly, hoping to just separate herself from the environment as quickly as humanly possible, hurriedly slipped on the heels and made her way to the aisle.

"Sexy mama!" cried out Amanda.

The hyper-anxious Kimberly reached the aisle, took one quick look at her underwear and thought better of it, as it looked like they were tied securely to the rail, and time was of the essence. "Oh, shit!" she said softly to herself as she began her dash in search of her clothes. Kimberly had her arms in the classic "embarrassed to be naked" position, with one over her chest and the other over her sex. She was slightly hunched over and was whimpering softly as she scurried up the aisle. Seven young ladies followed closely behind, strictly for their own amusement and entertainment.

When Kimberly pried open the door to the next car, she could see the tops of the heads of over a dozen people. She took a deep breath and forged ahead.

"Hey look, she's naked!" she heard Amanda bellow from behind her.

"Oh, shit!" she said again, and attempted to run faster, heels be damned. She tried to ignore the uproar from within the cabin, which gradually grew louder as more and more people realized that they had a frantic, naked woman in their midst.

When Kimberly reached the entrance to the next car, she was relieved to spot her clothes, which were hanging from the rail at about the halfway point of the car. That sense of relief was mitigated by several factors.

For one, she could see that the car was at least twice as crowded as the previous one. Also, to her consternation, as she drew closer it had become apparent that her clothes weren't simply hanging from the rail. No, that would have been too easy. In fact, her pants were tied tightly by the pant legs over her blouse, with several knots to boot.

On top of that, they were strategically placed right above where four young teenage boys were sitting, occupying two seats that were facing each other. They each had skateboards sitting on their laps.

"Oh! Oh God! Oh shit!" she said out loud as she furiously worked on the knots. Of course, this endeavor required her to reach up with both hands, affording her now enthralled audience a vision they would quite likely never forget. It's fair to say that the four teens were awestruck, looking on in total wonder, wide-eyed and open-mouthed. Naturally the spectacle was being captured by both video and still shots, and by more than one patron. "OH, NOOOOO!" shouted Kimberly, who could barely be heard over the din.

At one point a Good Samaritan got up to help the most unfortunate Kimberly, but her progress was immediately impeded when she found herself staring down the angry end of a switchblade. "I wouldn't do that if I were you," said Amanda, and the woman quickly reversed course.

At long last Kimberly untied the final knot and gathered her pants and blouse from the handrail. She took a few steps away from the spellbound teenagers and hastily put on her clothes. The train had conveniently come to a stop, and Kimberly made a mad dash for the exit, holding her blouse closed with one hand and carrying her heels in the other. Amanda could hear her blubbering as she passed her by.

"Thanks, Kimmy!" called out Amanda as she watched her exit the train and sprint away on the platform.

A few minutes later, the train reached the end of the line. It was the stop that Kimberly had originally planned on using before her unplanned, ill-fated rendezvous with humiliation.

Amanda Nelson and her crew, fresh off their planned rendezvous with humiliation, prepared to disembark. Amanda sifted through several credit cards, all bearing the name of one Kimberly Bradford.

"Let's go, girls. We have some shopping to do," she said.

* * * * *

Kimberly Bradford was sitting on her couch the next afternoon, still physically and emotionally shaken from the previous day's events. She opened her laptop, her objective being to research the latest iPhones. She first made a detour to her email account. Her eyes opened wide, and she felt a twinge in her gut when she saw an email from Amanda Nelson, with the heading "Thanks, Kimmy!" Kimberly took a deep breath and opened the email, which read:

Hi Kimmy, I just wanted to touch base and thank you for yesterday. It was awfully generous of you to agree to send us all that money. And thank you so much for the use of your credit cards. The girls and I had a productive shopping expedition, and we couldn't have done it without you.

But mostly, I wanted to thank you for providing us with such delicious entertainment. Stripping down to your underwear for us would have been enough of a treat. But then when you got naked for us—on the subway, with all those people around us—well, that was way above and beyond anything we could have hoped for. And seeing how embarrassed you were—"humiliated" is probably a better word—really added to the moment. You seemed rather timid about exposing yourself so intimately, but you really shouldn't have been so bashful. You have a beautiful body, Kimmy, and I consider myself fortunate that I was able to admire every inch of it, and in such a public setting. I know how hard that must have been for you, but you really pulled it off. You were amazing!

I've attached a few pictures from your photo shoot that I'd love for you to check out. They are rather personal, so I think it would be best to keep them between you and me. But that is entirely up to you, if you know what I mean, and I think you do. My fave is the one where you're on your knees facing the camera, with your hands behind your head. I was looking at that when I woke up this morning, and the next thing I knew I was diddling myself. Then I started imagining that it was your luscious lips and tongue servicing me. You were naked except for a collar around your neck that I made you wear, and you were looking hot! The orgasm I had, thanks to you, was off the charts. I'm pretty sure I woke up my upstairs neighbors with my screams of ecstasy.

Though I have a great imagination, I think it would be even more fun if we could make that scene a reality someday. I'm so glad we met. Our new relationship has the potential to turn into something really special.

Anyway, thanks again, Kimmy. You're the best!

Love,

Mandy

Kimberly felt a knot in her stomach as she read over the email. She couldn't bring herself to open the attachments. Maybe some other day.

She was just about to close her laptop when another email from Amanda popped up on her screen. The heading read, "One More Pic." When she instinctively opened it, it made her feel naked and violated all over again. Instead of loading as an attachment, a picture was embedded into the email. It was a picture of Amanda, who was smiling coquettishly. She was dressed only in a pair of panties and a bra. Both were black and looked very familiar. Under the picture was this message:

I forgot to thank you for the beautiful bra and panties that you left for me. I love your scent, and they feel so delightful against my skin, especially knowing that you wore them just yesterday before getting naked for me. We're the same size! Can you believe it? When we meet up again, maybe you can give me whatever you happen to be wearing at the time. Make sure it's nice and sexy, like you.

Love,

Mandy