BDSM Library - Valley Train

Valley Train

Provided By: BDSM Library

Synopsis: he story of a young girl on a train full of drunks after a night out boozing.

I was on the last train back from the city centre after yet another crap girls' night out.    Sophie and Zoe were happy enough.   Sophie's boyfriend had met up with us, kissing her goodnight at the Central Station in a really soppy way.  While Zoe wasn't even on the train back with us;  she had been picked up by a gorgeous boy and stayed on to go clubbing with him,  not caring how,  or whether,  she would get home.

The last train was filled with the usual revolting collection of drunks, some sleeping others rowdy and trying to grope us while making lewd comments.  I sadly reflected that was probably the closest I would ever get to being picked up or asked on a date!   But they made me feel sick.

Yes really sick.   The sight of those sweaty, ugly fat morons, combined with all the drinks from earlier in the evening, made the bile rise in my throat.   Yet they stood between me and the toilet.

I got to my feet.  "Where're you going?" asked Sophie in a worried voice.

"Toilet"  I replied  "I'm going to be sick!"

"I'm coming with you."  she hastily replied.  Not out of concern for me but because she didn't want to be left alone with those leering yobs

They did eventually let us through, but not without pressing their bodies against ours.   As I watched one reach out a thick ugly hand to grope Sophie's left breast another pressed himself up behind me,  rubbing his fat belly into the small of my back.   Was that his erect penis brushing between my buttocks? 

Even as Sophie tearfully slammed the toilet door shut behind us I threw up.  Only half the stinking vomit made it into the pan,  the rest splashed across the floor.

"You filthy little bitch!" screamed Sophie.

I hated her.   Of course little Miss Perfect would never be sick on the train after drinking too much!   I even resented the fact that the drunk had chosen to feel up her tits not mine.   No doubt mine were too small.  

I expect she only asked me along so she wouldn't be alone on this last train.  It was always a slightly frightening experience, I wasn't sure if it was always the same drunks or not.   They always stayed aboard when we got off,  but I tried not to look at them, hoping to remain inconspicuous.

"Christ,  look at the state of you!"  Sophie didn't need to tell me.   "You've puked down the front of your jeans and that cheap black mascara has run all down your stupid face.   No wonder you never have any friends!"

And I had thought Sophie was my friend.   But she just had to go on.   "Why don't you spend a bit of time putting your makeup on, and wear something nice for a night out instead of the same old jeans and t-shirt?"

I had spent three hours getting my makeup just right and had bought a new top especially for that evening.   Sophie was only wearing jeans and t-shirt too.   Yet looked stunning.

I spat at her.

"Oh grow up Alice" she said as she opened the door and pulled me along to the far end of the next carriage,  away from that group of drunks.

It was our station next.   We stood and moved to the nearest door.   "I hope they don't get off here" she said.

"They never do."  I replied.

The train stopped with a lurch so I lost my balance and grabbed Sophie for support.   Then the doors slid open and she stepped out onto the dimly lit platform.  I stood still,  staring at her.

"Hurry up!" she pleaded.   I just looked at her.  Beautiful, elegant Sophie,  soft highlighted blonde hair,  statuesque body.   Every boy's dream?

The doors slid shut, separating us.  As the train moved on I saw her stood open mouthed on the windswept platform watching the train carry me on up the valley.   She only had a couple of hundred yards walk to the comfort and safety of her home.

I sat back down in the carriage.   Alone.   The drunks soon spotted that.

Not subtle, that lot.   They charged down the length of the carriage towards me laughing and singing.

"Where's your friend gone?"

"When you see her tell her we want to fuck her!"

"Whoa!  That other bitch was some smart pussy!"

One of them who had still been drinking reached above me holding his can of lager.  "Wanna drink missy?"  He slowly poured what was left of it over my head and down my front.

"Hey Ianto, you've made the bitch wet!"  Someone behind grabbed me, one hand on my breasts,  one on my belly, and pulled me tight against him.   The train was already slowing again.  

I was bundled out onto the platform in the middle of the crowd, so no-one watching would even have seen me.  

There are no houses near this small unstaffed station so there wasn't any need for caution as they bustled me down the narrow gritty path.   Disorientated, I stumbled and fell.  I immediately felt my ankles grabbed and lifted up.   Within seconds my shoes had been roughly pulled off and I was rolled onto my back.

"Better get that wet shirt  off you,  little slut!  As I felt the beer soaked cotton tear I cried,  I'd only bought it two days before and it wasn't cheap.  They didn't hang about,  those boys.   As one was unfastening my jeans another was tugging hard at my padded bra, I tried to call out that there was a clip at the back but he just kept tugging painfully at it until something snapped.  By then both my jeans and panties had been pulled down together as far as my knees.

Within seconds I was stark naked, but then they turned away from me and cheered as one of them set fire to a plastic litter bin at the bottom of the station path.   Once it was well alight they seemed to be stuffing more rubbish into it.   My clothes, I suddenly realised!  I screamed angrily at them.  I didn't know if my phone and purse were still in my pockets as my jeans were added to the conflagration.

"You won't be  needing them again!" I heard as a fat ugly brute grabbed my hair and pulled my head up so that I was facing his flabby belly.   In seconds he had dropped his trousers and was forcing his erect cock into my mouth.  His stinking hairy belly pressed against my forehead as his cock was thrust into the back of my mouth,  down my throat.  Again and again.

For the next half hour it seemed that my head was just something to be pulled around forcing my mouth onto each of their cocks in turn,  with hardly any chance for me to cough out the vile semen which was choking me.

The one called Ianto muttered "Never mind fucking her face,  let me at her cunt boys."

"Don't be stupid!   You'll only catch something nasty off the little slut."  The speaker kicked me hard,  first in the crotch, then in the belly.

Another one joined in kicking me in the back while a heavy booted foot pushed my head down into the dirt.   They kicked me from side to side,  stamping on my arms if I tried to protect myself.  Someone's warm piss splashed over me.  I rolled face down to protect my chest from being stamped on by a muddy shoe, only for someone to grab my heels and drag me along the gritty path on my belly, sharp little stones tearing at my breasts and nipples.

I don't know how far I was dragged,  I vaguely recall being lifted up by my arms and legs and flung over a low hedge into someone's garden as the headlights of a car approached,  then I think I lost consciousness.

I awoke cold,  shivering and so sore I didn't even try to move.  In any case my arms were tightly bound to my ankles behind my back and a rag tasting of oil and grease had been stuffed into my mouth and bound tightly in place by strips of cloth.

The cold,  hard concrete floor chilled me to the bone and I was relieved when the steel garage door was finally opened.  An unwashed, unshaven slob ambled in and contemptuously stared down at me, naked, bleeding and helpless.   "So it wasn't just a bad dream" he mumbled and left, though I had tried calling out for water through the gag.

Hours later I had two more visitors.  One stared facing me,  then removed the gag.  I coughed trying to get the stinging oily taste from my mouth.

"It's your friend we really want to fuck."  the other blurted out.   "We've seen her on the train loads of times and I can't get her out of my head now!  If you can get her to come here we'll let you go!"

"She's not my friend" I croaked.

"What's her address then?"  the other one asked.   I stayed silent.

He took a length of dirty frayed rope, tied a loop in it and passed it over one of the beams in the roof, tying off the other end.   He effortlessly lifted me,  still trussed up, and passed my head through the loop.   He again asked me for Sophie's address when I didn't answer he gently lowered me until I hung by my neck,  unable to breathe.  He let go completely so I just hung there,  choking,  as he searched around the untidy garage.

Finding a garden spade he turned back to me,  grinning.   Without warning he swung the top of the handle into my belly.   I couldn't scream because I couldn't breathe.   Yet the pain was agonizing;  all I could do was release my bladder and bowels.  They laughed.

I was lifted up so the pressure of the rope on my throat was relieved.  "What's your friend's address?" he repeated.   I could only cough and wheeze.   "Right,  you stubborn little bitch,  this time it'll be the blade of the spade in your belly!"

I desperately struggled to speak.   Even as the  rope again threatened to crush my windpipe I managed to painfully rasp out Sophie's address.

As the noose was lifted off and I was allowed to fall to the floor I was warned. "If that's not her real address you're dead!"

But I guessed they'd never let me live after what they'd done to me anyway.   I wondered what they'd do to Sophie.   I felt ashamed that the thought didn't upset me at all.  Would I live to see what they did to her?

It had just got dark when the steel up and over garage door was opened and a battered hand painted black Ford Fiesta backed up to it.  The doors opened and a hooded girl with bound wrists was pulled out from the back seat.  It had to be Sophie.

She stood shaking with fear as the car drove off and the garage door was closed behind her.  The bag was removed from over her head  "Very nice!"  exclaimed one of the yobs in between sips of lager from the can in his hand.   Sophie looked around confused and terrified.

Then she spotted me.   Bound and naked on the floor,  my bruised body covered in streaks of blood and dirt.  She stared open mouthed.

Yes,  I thought to myself,  this is what's going to happen to you too.  I deliberately started to piss myself,  so I now lay in a puddle of my own urine.  

Sophie put both hands up to her face.  "Alice!   What have they done to you?   How did you get... "  she stopped, staring straight into my eyes.

"You fucking bitch!   Did you tell them where I lived?"  She tried to shake off the smiling youths holding her.  "Why?   Alice,  what the fuck have you done?"   She was crying now.   I was trying not to smile.   I was actually glad I'd given them her address.

"Shut up you stick up bitch and get those clothes  off.   Everything."

I could tell that the stupid cow was going to resist.

Moments later Sophie was having her clothes manhandled off her.   But I was most upset to notice that once removed her clothes were being placed somewhat carefully on a shelf; mine had been torn from me and set light to in a litter bin.

As usual that bitch Sophie was being treated like some sort of fucking goddess, whereas I had just been kicked in the dirt and treated like something unpleasant someone had trod in!   I hated her.  I hated her more than the filthy morons who were abusing us.

They even put a matresss on the concrete floor to lay her on.   OK it was stained,  damp and smelly but it was still better treatment than I'd received.  

And they fucked her cunt not her face!  Well to start with anyway.   To think they hadn't raped me in case I caught something!   Sophie'd had lots of boyfriends, if they were going to catch anything it would be from her,  not me.   Even as she was being raped by the fifth or sixth uncouth stinking yob I realised I was still envious of her.   She hadn't been kicked, beaten up and pissed on like I had!   Though she had been punched in the face a few times,  but that was her own fault because she wouldn't stop screaming hysterically.

It soon escalated into quite a party.   A case of beer,  a portable hi-fi and, I suspected,  various illegal substances led to uninhibited enjoyment of Sophie's body.   After a couple of hours she had not only given up screaming but no longer even whimpered as her limp body was almost  reverently passed on from one enthusiastic yet revolting yob to the next.   I couldn't help but noticing how her perfect tanned  body remained unblemished apart from a few grubby hand prints and splashes of semen;  and, long after midnight, by a small but unceasing trickle of blood from her vagina.  By then Sophie's eyes,  when they were open,  were dull and unfocused.

Ianto sat on the floor by me, untied my ankles and helped me into a sitting position, my arms still tied behind my back.  "Lasting well, isn't she?" he said.

"So, was she a good fuck then?"  I questioned him in return.   He didn't answer, but handed me a can of beer then, realizing my hands were still bound behind my back,  proceeded to try pouring the contents down my throat,  even though quite a lot ended up being poured over my breasts and down the front of my body.

I'm ashamed to say I fell asleep soon afterwards even though the 'party' was still in full swing.  When I awoke I could see daylight through the crack round the edge of the door.   Sophie was hanging by her left ankle from the same rope as I had been hung by.   She no longer looked such a pretty sight with her right leg stuck out to one side, her head just about resting on the concrete floor; and an empty WKD bottle, its neck embedded in her vagina, which was still trickling blood  - which ran in glistening little rivulets down her belly, across her chest,  to drip into her now matted hair,  no longer shiny and blonde.

She coughed then vomited,  the foul sticky mess ran across her cheek into her left eye before it too started soaking into her hair.  The noise of her retching and coughing woke up an ugly long nosed brute with long greasy hair who got to his feet and ambled,  trouserless,  over to her.   He stood facing her, grasped his cock and started slowly massaging it while chuckling childishly to himself.   He dragged her round so that she was facing towards him then stared,  confused, at the bottle embedded in her.   He instead bent down and lifted her head up towards his growing erection.

Then looking at her face he realised that her mouth was filled with vomit.   "Christ!   Where am I supposed to fuck this piece of shit?"   He turned his attention back to her crotch,  pulling out the bottle with a noticeable 'plop'.  With a contented sigh he eased his still growing erection into the sore,  bloodied hole then grasped her pale buttocks to excitedly thrust her up and down his cock.  As he staggered unsteadily to keep his balance Sophie's head and shoulders were callously dragged about the cold hard floor, her hair leaving a damp stain on the dry concrete.

"Poor cow!" muttered Ianto, waking up next to me.   With a sense of shame I realised he was showing more sympathy for her than I.   I just worried that it would be my turn again soon.

For three days they amused themselves with Sophie.   Only once or twice were we given any water, and that was from one of the bucketfuls brought in to throw over Sophie when her body became too disgustingly soiled and sticky for even those uncouth animals.   Several times I assumed she was dead,  only to notice her feebly lift her head or weakly shift her position slightly.

Then no-one came to the garage for a whole day.  To my surprise Sophie suddenly struggled to speak to me.  Turning her face towards me I saw hatred in her eyes.   She hissed a string of obscenities at me then paused,  gasping for breath.  "How long now?" she hoarsely whispered.

"Does it matter?"  I replied.  We were both as good as dead anyway.  I felt apathetic as to whether they killed us or just left us to starve to death.  

It had decided that we had been abandoned to die of thirst,  or hunger, when the bastards came back.  "Anyone want a last go at her?" one called out.   A steel capped boot kicked Sophie in the belly, she moaned and tried to roll away.

Ianto turned to me  "You can go in a few minutes, we've kept your friends clothes for you to wear home."

I wasn't sure that I understood him correctly.

"We need to make sure you don't tell anyone what we've done to you,  and your friend."  he carried on.  "Fat Tom here will film you while you slit the other cow's throat;  so if you ever tell you'll be the one up for murder!"

I just stared at him in disbelief for a few seconds before looking back at Sophie.   I stared at her throat.  If I killed her it would be on my conscience for ever.   It would surely be something I would never ever forget.   Yet I was also afraid lest I might indeed forget it in time.

I made up my mind.   I wouldn't kill her ... Not unless they also promised me a copy of Fat Tom's video which I could keep to look back on.

Someone passed me a large kitchen knife.  I said nothing,  but took it and walked across to Sophie.  I lifted her head up by her hair.   It could do with a good wash.   I looked into her eyes at her bewildered expression as I lifted her upper body up off the ground by her head.   Her hands weakly fluttered against my painfully empty belly,  I looked across at the phone Fat Tom was pointing at me and smiled.   I noticed a couple more of the repulsive yobs also pointing their phones at me.   I hugged Sophie's head against my breasts then snarled "Die you fucking bitch!" at her as I drew the blade across the front of her throat.

Her warm blood spurted onto my arm and across my chest as a I repeatedly cut deeper and deeper across her neck until the blade grated against her spine.   She no longer even twitched as I pulled her torso round to face me and hugged her warm, wet carcass tightly for several seconds before letting it go, to drop to the floor with a hollow thud.

My legs were shaking,  my right hand moved between my legs and started working on my pussy.  I knew I was still being filmed,  yet I eased my fingers between my labia and started working myself into a frenzy while I massaged Sophie's wet blood across my breasts,  ribs and tummy with my left hand.   I was vaguely conscious of cheering and clapping - everything seemed to spin around me and I collapsed exhausted on top of Sophie's corpse.

I felt that everyone must be staring at me as I sat in the train heading back down the valley.   I had just pulled Sophie's clothes on over my blood soaked body so her shirt was sticking to me uncomfortably and I was aware that there were still bloodstains on my hands.  

But I might as well have been invisible.

Although I felt like shit I went into college the next day.   I had lain awake most of the night wondering how to explain my absence, rehearsing my excuses.   I needn't have bothered,  no one had even noticed that I was missing.   They were of course all concerned about Sophie's absence.   Her boyfriend said she wasn't home and no one could get through on her phone.

Wendy Tyler kept on and on about Sophie so incessantly  I began to think I should leave a note with her address behind on my seat on the last train up the valley when I got off it next Saturday night ...

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