The Punk

Chapter 1

The Punk

It was late - it had been a long day and she was beginning to wish she hadn't agreed to the evening out. But it had been months since the four of them had met up and it had been great to spend time together again - they had all been such good friends at school - which now seemed such a long time ago.

There was still no sign of the train -'Stations are such depressing places, especially late at night.' she thought.

Friday would have been better, she would have had a sleep-in to look forward to, but trying to find an evening when everyone was free had been difficult and the others of course had heavy dates for Fridays. Just like her flat-mate, away on business until next week, they all seemed to have such busy lives. She felt quite envious, listening to them talk of their careers, ambitions, men. Where had she gone wrong, she wondered.

Footsteps echoed hollowly as another late homegoer walked along the platform. She glanced up - and quickly looked away again. Rough! A 'punk'! Not one of the very extreme ones, at least his hair wasn't cox-combed, still the orange and green stripes in it, the raggedy clothes and the paraphernalia he was wearing were enough to label him immediately. She could hear the faint clinking sound of bits of metal as he walked slowly past. She kept her eyes lowered, the carefully ripped jeans, studded - almost obscenely and the grotesque boots were all she could see - and that was more than she wanted to, there, alone, at that time of night.

An irrational fear - but there were so many reports in the papers of women being attacked for no reason. The lucky ones merely robbed - she unconsciously tightened her grip on her bag - many, far worse!

Her mind flicked back over all she had read. Was it better to fight, or did that simply increase the risk of greater injury? Go for the eyes? The balls - that was the most vulnerable point! Scream a lot! Would she - could she?

The steady, echoing steps stopped. She risked a quick, sideways glance - and wished she hadn't. He was standing, twenty or thirty paces away - looking back at her!

'God - why didn't I go to Joan's place, as she suggested when she found out I was going back to an empty flat?' she thought despairingly. Joan - always practical, always sensible.

'Why doesn't the train come? Why aren't there more people around? Why don't I just get up and walk out of the station?'

'Because it's late, the streets are as bad, if not worse. I haven't got enough cash on me for a cab fare all the way home. Because I'm just being silly!'

She took another furtive glance.'Damn!' He was still staring straight at her.

She felt suddenly cold and started to shiver involuntarily.

'Don't panic! Just don't panic.'

She looked back along the platform - there was absolutely nobody else in sight.'Perhaps there are people - sitting down in one of the alcoves.' she thought.'Of course there would be - everyone else would be too tired at this time to stand around waiting. Everyone but him of course.'

'Should I walk back down there?'

'What if he follows me - and there isn't anyone there after all?'

She tried to remember coming along the platform earlier. Had she seen anyone? Had she heard any other footsteps since?

A blank! She had been too busy thinking about the evening, thinking over all the things the others had to talk about. Feeling left out, nothing significant to contribute.

He hadn't moved, he was just standing there. Was he still staring at her? She daren't look up to check, in case he was.

'Is he working himself up to do it? Or planning just how he's going to go about it?'

'If I take off my shoes I can run faster. But remember to keep one, as a weapon!'

She remembered having read that somewhere. Could she really do it - fight? Or would she simply faint from shock?

'What if I just go up to him and give him my bag?'

'What if it isn't money he's after? It's the junkies that need cash - punks do it just for kicks, the thrill.'

He hadn't looked like a junkie, a strong walk, too well built, he looked fit - tough!

'What chance would I really have?'

The shivering became almost uncontrollable.

Then, a sound!

'Thank God - the train!'

'Even if there's nobody else on the platform, there must be people on the train.'

Her legs felt as though they had turned to jelly and it was as much as she could do to stay calm. She risked another glance up - he was still staring at her!

The whoosh of air, the deafening sound of the train leaving the tunnel, gave her strength and the feeling of sheer relief was incredible. As it slowed she scanned the carriages for people, they seem mainly empty but here and there she could make out the blurred outlines of heads and shoulders. 'So long as there is someone in the carriage that stops nearest it will be all right!'

Thankfully there was, she couldn't make out the details through the grimy windows - but she could see two figures. The train stopped, the doors opened, she was in - and collapsed into the nearest seat and, seeing the punk getting into the far end of the same carriage, she was happy to know that there were at least the two people just behind her.

Even as the train started to slowly move she felt her heart still pounding, her hands still trembling in her lap. She fought to regain control of herself, taking slow, deep breaths, trying to relax the tension that had gripped her.

By the time the train pulled into the next, equally deserted station she was a little calmer and even though the punk, at the far end of the carriage now seemed to be dozing, the sound of the people behind her, whispering together was almost comforting. The train finally ground to a halt paused for a while and with the adrenaline flow lessening she felt herself relaxing and as the train started to leave the station she slumped a little lower in the seat and let her eyes close.

Chapter 2

The Attack

It seemed only a second or two later that she suddenly became aware of a rough voice.

'All alone then are yer love?' It's followed by a suppressed giggle from behind her.

She opened her eyes with a start as the voice continued -

'Didn't get any tonight, didn't yer? Walk out on yer did 'e? That's a shame - girls need it too, don't they!'

She's confused, still not fully aware - but the face of the youth now sitting opposite her comes into focus. Young, acne strewn over greasy skin, hair slicked back, watery, muddy coloured eyes. He took a puff of the cigarette that he held between nicotine stained fingers. Unblinking, he continued.

'Saw yer get on - nice legs. I bet the rest of yer is good too. Big tits I'd say. Like big tits I do. But then I bet yer know what a bloke likes - like it too, don't yer!'

The leer on his face widened as his free hand reached out and gripped her leg, tight, just above the knee. She froze, suddenly fully alert as a rush of renewed fear hit her.

'Like I said, nice legs. I bet you'd like to show us more of 'em, wouldn't yer?'

'Stop it!' She heard the words come out as just a hoarse croak which simply caused louder giggles from behind and a grimmer look and tighter grip of her leg by the young tough.

Then, taking another puff from the cigarette before dropping it to the floor, he leered again and reaching forward with his other hand, forced it up under her skirt as he continued.

'Me old man always told me - 'Don't forget Mick, when a piece says 'No', that's 'er way of saying 'Please', don't forget that!' - I reckon me old man knew a lot about the way birds think - and what they really want.'

She clamped her legs together as hard as she could and tried to take a feeble swing at him - only to feel herself grabbed from behind by the shoulders and yanked hard back against the seat. He chuckled - his thumbs digging painfully into the sides of her knees and though she grunted with the effort to stop him, his strength slowly forced her legs apart.

'I like a piece with a bit of fight - makes the fuck better, I reckon.'

The word and the cruel tone in his voice focused the fear and speared it up her spine like an ice-cold blade - the response from the one behind was an even tighter grip of her shoulders and another nervous snigger.

He looked over her head - 'Don't worry Billy, I'll make sure there's a bit of fight left in 'er for you. Just a little bit!' He added meaningfully as his eyes returned to hers. Now they contained no hint of amusement or fun - their coldness and the set of his face showed exactly what his plans were for her and the pressure that was slowly spreading her legs apart made all too clear the way he was prepared to achieve them.

She felt the angry strength draining from her body as growing panic took its place. His coarse hands shifted their grip, forcing her legs wider apart and she saw his eyes widen and the tip of his tongue appear at the corner of his mouth as he concentrated. Calling on her last reserves she clenched her eyes tightly and tried to do the same with her legs.

He grunted at the unexpected action and for a moment she thought she has a chance - then the sheer strength of his arms defeated her and she heard herself sob as her body gave in. She felt her legs forced wider apart, herself fully exposed to his leering, hungry eyes.

'Yer should see this Billy - I can see 'er 'airs poking out of the sides of 'er panties. Looks nice it does. We'll 'ave them off in a jiff, get a proper look at 'er cunt then - before we give 'er what she wants. But you'll want a look at her titties if I know you Billy, enjoy that meself too. Hold 'er steady, I'll just have a bit of a feel of 'em, then we'll 'ave a look, see what she's actually got for us.'

Just then she felt the train slowing, another station -'There must be someone getting on, please God let there be someone getting on!'

Her wide-staring eyes desperately searched the platform for signs of a boarding passenger and from somewhere she found the strength to struggle once more - but his grip was too strong and as the train slowed and finally stopped he growls.

'Don't be silly now - I don't want to have to really 'urt yer.'

But the threat is meaningless, there was no sign of anyone anywhere on the station, the doors opened, then all too soon, closed again and even before the train lurched forward he shifted himself forward and shoved his knees between her legs, keeping them spread wide apart while freeing his hands, which moved up to start to clumsily squeeze her breasts.

'Now, let's 'ave a feel of what you've got.'

'No, no - stop, please stop!' she screamed, almost involuntarily as the fear again surges up inside.

The protest produced more giggles from the one behind her but though the mauling stopped for a moment the angry threat in his voice is somehow even more intimidating than his physical assault.

'Shut-up - unless yer wants a belting as well. 'Old her Billy, while I get these fuckin buttons undone, we can both 'ave a good look then.'

His fingers fumbled with the front of her blouse and the one he calls Billy leaned forward, peering down over her shoulder. The stink of him made her stomach heave and her skin crawled from the feel of the other's rough fingers as, in frustration he finally ripped open her blouse and his coarse hands started to roughly squeeze her breasts.

'Nice tits.' he growled, tugging her bra down and fully exposing them. Then, looking up and giving her and evil grin, he added. 'I bet yer like having them played with like this. Makes yer horny don't it. And I bet you want to see what I've got for yer?'

With that, while one hand continued to squeeze, he dropped the other to his fly, unzipped it and pushed himself awkwardly up off the seat as he fumbled to get his cock out. In spite of her growing fear, the bruising pain of his rough handling and the dread of what she was going to see, she found she couldn't tear her eyes away from his crotch.

Then, out of the corner of her eye she caught a movement and turning her head saw the punk approaching from the far end of the carriage, her cry had obviously alerted him to something going on.'He'll join in with them of course!'she realised. Her mind tries to blank out the images that immediately flash before her eyes - of their filthy cocks, all three using her in succession, using her as just a receptacle for their cum.'What other horrors would they think of?' 'What will they do with me when they've finished?'

She prayed that her mind would just shut-down, black out whatever is about to happen to her.

The two toughs had been so intent on getting her blouse open and then trying to get her breasts out of her bra so they could get at them properly that they hadn't noticed the punk approaching. That was until he grabbed the back of the jacket of the one who called himself Mick - and jerked him violently to his feet.

'Leave the girl alone - unless you fancy a good kicking!'

The punk's voice was deep, authoritative and his expression of cold determination suggested he would enjoy the excuse to carry out the threat.

As Mick was seized there was a squeal of fright from the one behind her and his painful grip of her shoulders relaxed.

For a few seconds nothing seemed to happen, the pimply youth looked as though he was prepared to fight for what he wanted. Sensing that, the punk swung him around, changed his grip to grab the front of his shirt and suddenly brought his forehead down sharply on the bridge of the prominent nose.

Having originally branded the punk as a potential attacker, when she saw him coming through the carriage towards her she'd convinced herself that the assault and rape was going to be carried out by all three of them - so momentarily she found it hard to understand what was actually going on.

The instant cry of pain was followed by a sudden gush of blood, the mere sight of which had almost as much effect as the blow itself. He yelled again, grabbed at his bleeding nose and took off down the carriage, quickly followed by the other one too. They stopped by the far doors, the blooded one whimpering as he tried to both zip up his trousers and hold a grubby handkerchief to his face while the other cast frightened glances back over his shoulder at the punk.

She took the opportunity to pull her skirt down and adjust her bra, covering herself as much as her torn blouse would allow, hearing herself sobbing with a mixture of delayed shock and still uncertain relief. She looked up at the punk and saw that the hands, clenched at his sides, were trembling. He turned and looked down at her briefly, a grim, determined expression on his face, nervous tension showing in his eyes.

As she felt the train begin to slow again he turned back to the two still cowering near the door and, taking a step or two towards them, shouted menacingly -

'Off, off you creeps - unless you want more of the same - and a kicking to go with it.'

They didn't stop to argue, as the doors opened they almost fell over each other in their haste to get off. The punk moved to the door and looked out after them, making sure they didn't get back on again and called out after the sound of their running footsteps -

'And if I catch sight of either of you two again I'll give you a proper kicking, one you'll never forget!'

After the doors closed and the train jerked forwards again he made his way back and sat down opposite her. She saw that he was shaking all over and breathing hard but he managed a nervous smile.

'Th - Thank you!' she stammered. 'I ca - can't thank you enough for that.'

'It's O.K.' he replied with a widening grin.

'I can't bear to think what would have happened if you hadn't been here.' she said, then helplessly burst into tears. As she fumbled in her bag for a tissue he moved across to sit beside her and tentatively put his arm around her shoulder.

'It's all right now. They've gone. You're O.K., no real harm done.'

She tried to control her crying and, between intermittent sobs, managed to say - 'It's so silly! First I thought you were going to attack me - back there, while we were waiting for the train. Then I thought you were going to join in with them - the other two. But instead you come to my rescue like that.'

'Why would you have thought all that?' he asked with a look of amazement.

She blew her nose and felt the choking sensation inside her gradually subsiding. 'Well - I thought - I mean, you're - you're a punk! Everyone knows - you know, punks are into violence and all that!'

There was a long pause then an even bigger smile spread across his face and lit up his deep blue eyes, then he couldn't help himself and he started to laugh. 'You too! Of course! I fooled them, I was bound to have fooled you too!'

It was her turn to look amazed, until he explained - 'I'm not a punk, I've been to a party. One of those 'punks or pro's' parties.'

'But, but the way you handled that one - hitting him with your head like that.'

'The king-hit. I don't know what made me think of that - I saw it done in a movie once, the scene suddenly came back to me. Let me tell you, I was even more surprised than he was!'

He began to laugh again and, as the impact of what he had said sank in and in reaction to a growing sense of relief, she joined in with him, feeling the secure strength of his arm around her shoulders pulling her closer.

Chapter 3

Robert and Kerry

As the tension gradually subsided they exchange names - Robert and Kerry - and talk. She told him why she was out alone, how she had been meeting up with her old school friends for the evening. He told her that the party had been a celebration marking the end of their exams, that he was in his last year at university, soon to be an electrical engineer. As their conversation widened she found that he lived in a street not too far away from hers - and, although at first she protested, just a little - he insisted on getting off the train with her and seeing her safely home. 'Home? The empty flat.' she thought to herself as she remembered her flat-mate's business trip.

As they continued to talk she became conscious that the direction of his eyes was dropping every now and then and remembered that her attempts to cover herself hadn't been very successful and realised that, understandably, he was being attracted by the sight of her half-exposed breasts. Suddenly he realised that she had caught him looking.

'I'm sorry.' he said and she saw a faint flush starting to spread across his face as she tugged at the edges of her ripped blouse and smiled.

'It's all right, can't be helped can it.'

'It's just that - well, you're a very attractive girl and - I mean, I didn't mean to stare - but, well, you know...'

She nodded and gave him a grin. 'Yes, I know. Don't be embarrassed. I don't mind really. After all, you'd see a lot more of me if we were at the beach together, wouldn't you?'

He relaxed a little, smiled again and his arm briefly tightened around her shoulder. 'True.' He paused, then continued uncertainly. 'I'd like that one week-end, some time together at the beach I mean. Would you?'

'Yes, why not.'

There was a rising note of excitement in his voice as he said. 'What about this week-end, are you free at all?'

'Am I free at all?' she thought with a sad, inner laugh. 'I always seem to be free!' But simply answered 'I could make it Saturday, after lunch?'

'Yes, great. And maybe we could go dancing later. But you've probably got a date.' he added with a questioning look.

'Not this Saturday - I had planned to do some things around the flat - but - well, O.K.'

She felt herself being pulled closer as his arm tightened again - and liked the feeling - but just then, they saw that the train was finally approaching their station and she began to make a more determined effort to cover herself. He suddenly remembered what he was wearing and from among the various bits of metal attached to his clothes found a safety pin and, with his trembling fingers brushing against her skin, managed to pin the edges of her blouse more firmly together with it.