Pic Line Pervert

The tube rattled along; packed as usual. A mass of bodies squashed together, trying their best to ignore each other, while virtually joined like a hundred Siamese twins in one small space.
She was listening to the I-pod, that dad had bought her for Christmas. Bob Dylan was singing some of his old stuff; some of the stuff that was dad’s but that she found she liked. Weird, she never thought that herself and dad would have music in common but he was right; Dylan was class!

She didn’t know what it was but something made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. A quick glance around – casual, like she wasn’t really looking – found nothing unusual. It was hard to turn anymore than your head in the throng of bodies. Still the feeling persisted.
God she would be glad when her Work Experience course was over and she didn’t have to travel on this bloody train every day. She was looking forward to going back to school and starting her A-level year, then hopefully college, then….who knew; it was a big world.

The tube pulled into Knightsbridge and the swell of bodies, eased for about five seconds then, with the ratio of people getting on to those getting off about four to one; got worse.
‘Mind the doors please, mind the doors’, she could hear the L.T. official call above the din.
With a swish of closing doors, a jolt and an increasing whine, they were off again.

It was then ‘it’ happened! She felt a warm hand slip urgently between her legs - spread widely to maintain balance against the rocking of the carriage. A finger rammed painfully, through her flimsy panty material, into her vaginal area; partly entering her and forcing the thin cotton painfully into that most intimate moist place.

She screamed!

Those in the immediate vicinity jumped, a little shocked at the unexpected expression, glanced at her and then looked quickly away; looking anywhere but at her.
She managed to turn, shaking; anger and fear fighting for domination in the sentiment stakes.
Directly behind was a middle-aged man in a grey rain Mac. At that moment a younger man – somewhere in his late teens she guessed – was grabbing the older man by the lapels of his coat and shouting…

‘You dirty bastard – I saw that, I saw what you did, you fucking pervert, you dirty rotten fucking perv; I’ll kill you, you bastard!

She was crying now; at least tears were coursing her cheeks – she was oblivious to them as she stood there, fists clenched, panting; grunting like an animal, unable to speak!

Grey Mac had his hands up in defensive mode ready to stave off any potential attack; he was shouting back…

‘I don’t know what you are talking about. Let go of me you maniac; get your hands off me….HELP! SOMEBODY, HELP ME, I’M BEING ATTACKED…HELP!

‘Are you OK?’ the young man asked her, struggling with his grip on his animated captive ‘No…of course your not…but I’ve got him, you can have him arrested at the next station; the dirty bastard!’

He had tears on his cheeks too, she noticed; tears of anger, shame? She couldn’t tell but was so glad for them; they were so precious to her then, that she would have paid for them. She just kept looking at him as he struggled to dodge the now flailing fists of the older man.

In the overcrowded space, those nearest did their best to move away from the fracas; no one interfered, no onechallenged the motive or cause; it was not their concern, not their problem!

The journey from Knightsbridge to Gloucester Road is short; only a matter of minutes. To her it had seemed like hours. The train whooshed into the station.

The young man, looked at her, as the doors opened, he shouted at her to come with him..
‘Let’s get this bastard arrested’ he proposed.
Then as he took his eye off the accused, Grey Mac swung a punch that landed high on the side of the young man’s head. He let go his grip and fell to the floor of the carriage, stunned; while the captive became a free man and ran – pushing his way through the alighting crowd – and in seconds was lost from view.

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She came to life! The stupor; caused by a mixture of shock, anger, embarrassment and helplessness, lifted from her as if it were a veil. She bent to the young man, lashing out at the shins and legs surrounding him, while screaming warnings to ‘GET BACK!’
The crowd took one look at this obviously demented girl and took the warnings seriously.

‘Oh my God, oh my God…are you OK? Are you hurt? Talk to me!

He shook his head as if to clear it.

‘I’m sorry’, he said. ‘I just took my eye off him, he got away, I’m sorry!’

He dropped his chin despondently onto his chest.

‘Sorry? Sorry? You were the only one who did anything; the only one who helped. If it weren’t for you I don’t know what I would have done; you were so brave. Thank you so much, thank you!’ She started sobbing now, the tension leaving her in waves; ebbing rather than dissipating.

When she looked up she noticed the station sign for Hammersmith. They had gone through Barons Court without even noticing. This whole episode was surreal and it was as if she were emerging from a bad dream; only the sleep hadn’t quite left her yet.

‘I have to get out at Acton’, she said. ‘I have to go to Hounslow and this is an Uxbridge train.’

‘I’m going to Harrow but I am getting off too; I need some air and we should report this…thing to the police. You can’t let that animal away with this!’

The train swept into Acton Town and he made to stand up, stumbled and held a rail to steady himself. She rushed to him and grabbed his arm…he inadvertently squeezed her breast, while seeking something to grip on to. She gritted her teeth against the unexpected pain. He didn’t seem to notice as he drew his hand back and put it to his forehead and gave his head a quick shake to clear it.

‘Oh God, are you still hurt; maybe we should get you to a doctor?

‘No, no, I’m fine; I just need some air, I’ll sit out on the platform bench for a minute. I am such an ass; I should have seen it coming.’

He sat heavily, she sat beside him; studying him closely.

‘Look …err…Miss, I’ll….’

‘The name’s Caroline. You saved my life basically and we don’t even know each other’s names’, she smiled ironically.

‘Well, that’s a lovely name; mine’s Tim…and I didn’t save your life Caroline; I grabbed some old perv and then let him deck me and get away!’

‘Regardless, what you say, I am just grateful that you were there…I don’t know what I would have done otherwise.’

‘Well anyway, what do we do now?’ he sighed.

‘I just want to go home, I just want to….think, I don’t know; I can’t think straight. If you weren’t here, I would be wondering if it really happened. I just feel….I don’t know what or how I feel right now. I think I’d like to soak for a while, in a nice hot bath. I feel soiled; dirty in some way. Sorry, I’m not making any sense, am I?’

‘Yes you are; lots! Do you work up the city…you seem young to working, to be honest?’

‘Just temporarily; I was doing some work experience in an investment bank. I have been travelling up and down for the summer. I go back to school in September and take my A-levels next year. What about you?’

‘I left school two years ago; my brother had a business up around Covent Garden before he was killed in a car crash last year. His flat is up for sale now; I spent a lot of time doing it up and tying up some loose ends.’

‘Oh God, I’m so sorry…that’s just awful; I don’t know what to say…I’m …I’m sorry!’

‘Things happen I suppose. It’s hard to make any sense of it but….what can you do?’

‘Tim, I need to go; dad will be meeting me at Hounslow and he’ll worry if I’m too late.’

‘I’ll come with you, we can tell him about what happened and…..’

‘NO! No, sorry…sorry, I just don’t think that I can tell him yet…’

‘But you have to tell him…I mean, you should tell him. You’ve had a bad experience; someone should know.’

‘I know and I will tell him and mum…but not just now, not today, OK?’

‘It’s your choice of course but I would advise you too. Do you have to go to work tomorrow?’

‘Yes, unfortunately...’ The thought scared her; she dreaded it.

‘Well, I have to go up tomorrow too. If you’d like I can meet you here and we can go together…if it makes you feel any better. Mind you, after the mess I made of it today, you probably wouldn’t feel much safer, than if you were on your own…’

‘Oh but I would, most definitely…but I don’t want to put you too any trouble…’

‘It would make me feel better; honestly! I could meet you here about 8.15’

‘That would be brilliant. I can’t thank you enough for what you did; it was very brave!’

‘It was nothing. Here is your train, are you sure that you don’t want me to come with you to Hounslow…I don’t mind!’

‘No, honestly; I’ll be fine…thank you Tim…you are so nice.’

She got on the train and he stood by the door till it closed and the train pulled off. She raised a hand and waved too him until he was out of sight.
She still felt weird but knowing that Tim would be with her tomorrow made her feel so much better; he was such a lovely guy.

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He went up and over the bridge and jumped in the Cockfosters train that was standing in the platform for the changeover crew.
He sat in the seat and smiled at his reflection in the mirror.

She really was very, very nice. He would have a very early start in the morning…but it would be worth it! He felt like he already knew her intimately…then of course he did in a way.
He took off his reversible jacket and turned the inside out, making it red instead of blue. He took the baseball cap out of his pocket and pulled it low over his eyes. He knew that the chances of running into Grey Mac were better than slim but…you had to be careful!

He had hurt her when he had squeezed her small firm tit; he had enjoyed that almost as much as forcing his finger through her panties – at least a little way – into her tight little cunt. The fear on her face had nearly made him cum; she'd know a lot more fear and whole lot more pain too.

The ‘Underground’; it was the only way to travel!