tagNonConsent/ReluctanceThe Incentive List Ch. 07

The Incentive List Ch. 07


Somewhere between Surrey and London

August 30, 1998

Sarah loosened a button on her cream silk blouse and fanned her hand across her neck to try to circulate some air around her. God it was hot on this bloody train!

Summers were all well and good, and the warm weather was to be embraced, such was its scarcity sometimes in Britain, but commuting in this humidity was no fun at all. Even though the afternoon was coming to a close, this carriage had still somehow managed to harness the midday heat and kept it locked within its confines. Sarah didn't suffer from overt perspiration, but even she could feel droplets of sweat coalescing around her temples.

Ever since she had taken this new job at a 'language for business' centre in London, she had dreaded the hotter weekdays, knowing her long commute home would be uncomfortable. Why couldn't James have met her for a drink in town tonight? They both could have headed home in the later, cooler hours - tipsy and randy!

Sarah huffed to herself before deciding to amuse herself by teasing the young man sat opposite her instead. The train wasn't particularly busy, and she had this handsome young fellow all to herself. It hadn't escaped her attention that when she fanned herself just a moment ago, his eyes darted to her chest, no doubt in an attempt to catch a glimpse of her cleavage.

You don't get through twenty-odd years of having a prominent bust without becoming adept at realising when your assets are being admired, and this man had thrown a fair few glances their way. Sarah hated the gawkers that just stared and drooled - seemingly uninterested that their ogling was so obvious and apparent. But she loved the shy ones that desperately wanted to look but were terrified of being caught. Despite how their relationship had evolved over the years, she still thought of James that way too.

Sarah sighed and looked out the window, seemingly at the scenery rushing by, but actually at the very subtle reflection of the young man sat opposite her. She reached up to scratch below her collar bone, pulling half of her blouse to one side as she did so, exposing the very top of her left breast and the white lacy trim of one of her bra cups. The young man, barely out of his teens, took the bait, directing his gaze at her subtly exposed chest. Oh, she loved doing this. In the reflection she could see his eyes flicking back and forth from her chest to the floor in front of him, back to her chest, then the floor, before taking a long, lingering look at her teasing exposure. How long would he stare?

She sighed loudly, taking in a deep breath and causing her chest to rise and fall. His eyes remained transfixed on her heaving bosom.

Sarah then quickly whipped her head around to address the poor boy who tried to disguise his social crime by shifting his gaze ever so slightly sideways and looking through Sarah rather than at her. His reddening cheeks, however, belied his opportunistic voyeurism.

"It's so hot, isn't it?" Sarah offered with a friendly beam, smoothing the lapel of her blouse back into place.

"Yeah," the flustered boy replied. "Really muggy."

Sarah looked around the carriage while repeatedly pulling at her blouse, ostensibly to circulate more air around her, but actually to give her fellow passenger more quick flashes of white lace. She was wearing one of her favoured balcony bras, and was well aware that her ample boobs tended to form pleasing circles of flesh above the fabric, and a small but pronounced cleavage where they met in the middle. She was giving her new friend every opportunity to see for himself.

Out of the corner if her eye she could see him squirm in his seat slightly as he re-adjusted himself. Was he getting an erection just at this little show?! How adorable!

Now Sarah was feeling a little frisky, excited by how her actions were affecting this hopelessly mesmerised youth. She considered her surroundings and her possessions and wondered if she could push this a little further? Her handbag, a newspaper and an almost finished bottle of Diet Coke were piled on the seat beside her. Perhaps she and James had been at these sexual machinations for too long, because at least a half dozen ways of further teasing this man came to mind instantly. She unscrewed the cap of the Coke bottle and took a tiny swig, leaving only a little left. With the cap on only very loosely, she placed the bottle by her feet. As she leaned forward to do so, she tested the gape of her top. The loosening of a button earlier was helping, but she could feel that her blouse was currently too tight to afford the kind of viewing experience she wanted, so as she straightened herself back up, she dispensed with another button.

The temperature just about excused her action with innocent intent, and besides, when her back was straight there was very little on display; the soft silk of her top clinging to her curves and protecting her modesty. But she knew that the next time she leaned forward, that modesty would fall away quite spectacularly.

From her handbag she retrieved a pen, and opened the paper at the puzzle page, folding it into a neat, manageable size that she then rested on her knee. Normally she would adjust her skirt upon crossing her legs - doing so tended to cause the hem of her short pencil skirt to ride upwards - but she decided to afford her oblivious victim the sight of pretty much all of her thigh.

Staring at the crossword, apparently deep in thought, Sarah started to gently kick her foot back and forth, causing her skirt to rise even further up her leg. She then pushed her butt deep into her seat, and leaned over to examine the clues more closely. As she did she felt her blouse fall open, a subtle look downwards confirming that her lacy bust was now being directly presented to the lucky guy in front of her.

She registered another squirm, her peripheral vision suggested that a complete readjustment of his trouser area was being attempted. Sarah pretended not to notice. Instead she moved her pen to the page and filled in one of the easier answers. However, in doing so she conspired to squeeze the top of her arm against the side of her chest, causing the cup of her bra to ever so slightly disengage from its contents. If the young man was looking carefully, and she had a hunch he was, he might have sneaked a peek at her hardening nipple.

The next act of her performance required a little subterfuge. In as subtle manner as she could muster, she uncrossed her legs and "accidentally" knocked the Coke bottle over with her foot. As she had hoped, the loose cap fell off, and the dregs of her drink escaped onto the carriage floor.

"Oh I'm so sorry," she exclaimed with faux surprise, rushing to her handbag to fetch the paper napkins she knew were inside.

"It's ok, don't worry about it," said the young man, moving his feet out the way of the growing puddle of fizz underneath him.

Sarah insisted on cleaning up though, bending over as fully as she could while perched on the edge of her seat to mop up the mess she had made.

She could feel the extent of her exposure, the warm air on her dangling tits. As she vigorously rubbed the napkins into the floor, she allowed her breasts to sway and jiggle as much as she dared without making it obvious she was putting on a show. She looked up to check she had his full attention - his red cheeks and guilty expression suggested she had.

"Best mop it up. It's horrible when this stuff dries on the floor. Gets really sticky doesn't it?"

A perfectly innocent remark, but Sarah loaded it with as much innuendo as she could, before looking back down so that he could continue enjoying the view. She leaned right over to catch a trail of pop that was heading under her seat and felt a shiver of delight run through her as she realised that her exertions were causing her tits to edge their way slowly but surely out of their cups. Balcony bras were pretty, but didn't offer the firmest of supports, especially when gravity was pulling in a different direction. As she placed the final napkins on the floor she gave her tits one more pronounced jiggle, and felt her left breast pop out almost entirely. She enjoyed feeling the sensation of her hardened nipples on the silk of her blouse. The trap had been laid - time to catch her mark.

She whipped her head up quickly, too fast for the young man to recalibrate his gaze. His eyes darted from the delights framed by Sarah's gaping top, to her eyes, to out the window. His face was burning with crimson, and he swallowed hard.

Sarah looked down at her loose top with simulated surprise before readjusting her bra underneath the modesty of her blouse.

"Oh I'm so sorry," she cooed sweetly. "I didn't mean to give you an eyeful."

He turned and acknowledged her with an embarrassed smile, seemingly relieved that he was being pardoned for his completely understandable transgression. 'How adorable' thought Sarah.

Before she could concoct any more opportunities to excite her new friend, their cosy seating area was interrupted by an interloper.

The train was still moving, so this particular passenger had obviously been traversing the carriages. He was looking around at the various passengers and seemingly only settled on a seat when he clocked Sarah, sitting next to the shy boy and opposite her. There were plenty of free seats. She didn't know whether to be flattered or perturbed.

Good-looking, for sure, and rugged in appearance, he was tall, well-built and oozing confidence. This wasn't the kind of man she would play her naughty games with, and she instinctively fastened a button on her blouse as a result - her fun was over for the day.

The three sat in silence, as was the social law in commuter Britain, but Sarah could feel his eyes on her. Several stations came and went but it was only when the shy boy eventually reached his destination and disembarked that the rugged man said something. But the thing he said caused Sarah's heart to almost skip a beat.

"I wonder what the weather's like in Edinburgh?"

Now to anyone eavesdropping, this would have sounded a banal, if fairly odd piece of small talk. But it's significance for Sarah was huge. It was a sign. A code. A signal that one of the more controversial entries on her fantasy list was potentially at hand. And it was a failsafe that allowed her to back out if it didn't feel right or if she didn't feel ready. James had insisted on such an approach before he even entertained the notion of orchestrating this scenario.

Sarah took a deep breath and stared at the emotionless face of the man addressing her. Her response would either set the wheels in motion, or abort the entire thing. It was up to her. Perhaps buoyed by the friskiness of her earlier teasing, she opted to go for it.

"Every time I go there it snows," she said.

The man nodded, stood from his seat, and walked away, leaving the carriage from the same door he entered.

Sarah's heart was racing. She knew what she had just instigated and was nervous and excited in equal measure. Because that answer meant something. It meant that at some point during the coming week, she was going to be raped.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

The seven day window was a way of preserving the shock and surprise of the attack when it came. Sarah had suggested that James could achieve this better by arranging it without any forewarning whatsoever. James refused, pointing out that there was always the risk, however unlikely, of a real sexual assault being mistaken for the orchestrated one, and also that anyone partaking in this fantasy would need convincing that this was something Sarah actually wanted. Indeed, James went as far as making a video of Sarah outlining her desire to fulfill the fantasy, together with the instructions and codes and what they meant. It prevented the would-be attacker from fearing an arrest after the act, and ensured that they were confident that Sarah knew what her responses meant. She remembered the recording explicitly, and the strangeness of muttering the immortal line: "And if I say it always snows when I go there, that means I've given you permission to rape me."

James had trouble understanding the fantasy, having quite rightly believed rape to be one of the worst things that could possibly happen to a woman. Sarah explained that in 'real life' it would be, but that in the context of her fantasies, being unexpextedly and forcefully fucked, with no control over proceedings as they happened, was a powerful turn-on.

James wanted to recreate her fantasy as faithfully as he could, robbing Sarah of as much control as possible, but was insistent that all parties realised that, in his words, it was a 'consentual rape'. And, of course, there would be a 'safe word' to end the attack at any time.

Sarah didn't intend to use it. She wanted to live the fantasy and make it feel as authentic as possible. She would struggle and scream and beg him to stop, and she would do everything in her power to stop him violating her - so that when he did, it would feel all the sweeter.

It was hard to think of anything else that week, although Sarah tried to put it out of her mind, throwing herself into her work and staying out late with friends. She hadn't any idea when it would happen, but could only imagine it would take place in a quiet, dark secluded place. By arriving at her local station late at night, and leaving her car at home, she tried to give her assailant every opportunity, walking home along her empty road in the dark. But for four days, nothing happened. James' conspirator was biding his time.

So convinced had Sarah made herself regarding the likely time of day and location of the event, that when it actually happened, she was caught completely unaware.

She was at a cash machine after having had a few drinks after work. It was in the evening but still light, and while there weren't that many people in her immediate vicinity, she was on a main road in a major city. The hand over her mouth and the ease with which she was lifted off of the pavement therefore came as genuine shocks. It took her a few seconds to process what was going on, and her first few muffled screams were natural reactions rather than fuel for her fantasy. By the time she had been thrown into the back of the van, she had managed to comprehend what was happening but the unexpected way in which it was unfolding was eliciting confusion and bewilderment as much as thrill. She had worried that this whole thing would be too tame. 5 seconds in and she was already exhilarated and, more importantly, anxious - she had no idea how this was going to play out. The man who had bundled her into the van slammed the back doors shut and the vehicle sped off. She was trapped in the back with him and one other man sat nearer the front of the van whose face, like his partner-in-crime, was covered by a balaclava, although his was red rather than blue. With a theatrical flourish, she played the role as she had fantasised:

"Let me go!" she screamed, launching herself towards the back doors. "What do you want?! Let me go!!"

Then 'Blue' gave Sarah her second unexpected surprise by pulling her away from the doors and striking her across the face. Hard. She fell to the floor of the van and froze momentarily with shock, her cheek stinging. Before she could gather her thoughts she felt her hair being pulled and her head was jerked back roughly so she was facing her attacker.

"Do anything like that again," he growled over the van's engines, "And you'll get more than a slap."

Still gripping Sarah's hair he reached behind him and pulled what looked like a box-cutting knife from his back pocket. He held the blade close to Sarah's cheek.

"Understand?" he hissed.

Sarah was genuinely unnerved, unsure as to whether the adrenaline pumping through her body was being caused by terror or exhilaration. One thing was for sure, this had already gone far beyond what she had anticipated - on her knees in the back of a vehicle; a deadly weapon being held against her face.

As she felt the taste of blood in her mouth from the strike of her assailant, she considered using the 'safe' word - the simple utterance that would bring this whole ordeal to an end.

In the lead-up to this experience she had worried that the whole thing would feel too staged; too safe. She certainly didn't feel safe at the moment. The revelation that these men were prepared to use violence had put her decidedly on edge, and thrown her preconceptions out the window - this was going to be rough. But it was still in her control. She could end it now, or ride the wave of terror and anxiety, and willingly put herself at the mercy of these violent men who were going to forcefully have their way with her. She mentally reassured herself, and kept the safe word from her lips.

"What do you want?" she gasped pathetically, surprising herself as real tears welled in her eyes.

'Blue', his grip still painful and tight behind her head, moved the blade down from close to her cheek, past the pulsating vein in her neck and towards the collar of her blouse. He sliced at the area around her top button, ripping it away from the clothing. As it landed on the floor of the van with a tinkle, her blouse parted slightly, revealing the smallest hint of cleavage.

"Just a bit of fun," her assailant continued, with a menacing drawl. "Do what we say, and you won't get hurt."

He leaned in close to her, the wooly fabric of his mask brushing against her cheek.

"You might even like it."

Through the mouth hole of his balaclava, he extended his tongue and flicked it at Sarah's ear, before letting go of her hair and letting her sink to the floor of the van on her elbows and knees. Sarah instinctively pulled her gaping blouse together to protect the sight of her cleavage from the two men surrounding her. She knelt, her head bowed, for what seemed like ages as the van hurriedly took bends and zoomed down straights. She didn't dare look at either of her assailants through fear of another slap. Eventually she heard the more vocal of the two make a suggestion to his colleague.

"Let's get some in-car entertainment. Shall I make her suck your cock?"

Sarah subtly lifted her head to be greeted by the sight of 'Red' wrestling with his fly. Before he had a chance to reveal himself, her hair was grabbed again by Blue and her body was forcefully guided towards the front of the van. Dragged on her knees like a naughty child across the dirty metal surface, Blue positioned her face just inches from Red's crotch as his tiny erection was released through a gap in his trousers.

"Suck it," growled Blue. "And if you bite him, I'll fucking cut you."

Sarah felt his blade again, this time against her neck. As Red's modest cock twitched with anticipation in front of her, her head was roughly forced towards it. Instinctively, she kept her mouth shut tight, causing his shaft to press flat against her face, the oozing tip leaving a trail of precum across her side of her nose.

"Put it in your mouth," came the menacing response from the man with her hair in his painful grip. To signal the seriousness of his request, he pressed his blade firmly against her neck.

Sarah was genuinely concerned that the metal would pierce her skin unless she did something, and she opened wide with an exaggerated drop of her jaw to signal her compliance before any harm befell her. Red took the opportunity and guided his stiff penis into her mouth, smearing his glans over the base of her tongue.

As she tasted the warm salty flesh, Sarah leaned in towards her groaning captor, creating a little distance between her neck and Blue's blade. He still held her hair roughly in his hand though, and he encouraged her movement with a firm push towards his accomplice's crotch. She gagged slightly as the cock hit the back of her throat, and the fact her nose was squashed into the fabric of Red's trousers was making it hard for her to breathe. But she dared not withdraw too abruptly through fear of another reprisal. Instead, she put all her sexual experience to good use and began delivering a hard, slurping blow-job.

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