As if by some silent agreement, the girls begin undressing you piece by piece, leaving you completely naked on the hard metal seat. They take turns fondling and teasing every inch of your body, laughing at your helplessness. One of them even dares to sneak a taste of your pre-come from your exposed cock, drawing a moan from deep within your throat.

The train comes to an abrupt stop, throwing you forward against the pole that's still cuffed around your wrist. "

"We're here," one of them says sweetly. "This is our new home. Enjoy it, pet." They uncuff you from the pole and stand up, allowing you to slide off the seat. As you stumble to your feet, they encircle you once more, trapping you in their midst.

"Now," says the leader, stepping forward, "what would you like to do first?" She glances meaningfully at her friends, who all exchange knowing looks and smirks. The possibilities are endless...

Emily returns your kiss with equal tenderness, her hands still resting on your shoulders as she savors the connection between you. As the train begins to slow down, approaching your stop, she pulls back slightly, her eyes searching yours for any sign of regret or disappointment. Finding none, she smiles shyly and says, "I hope... I hope we can do this again sometime."

Emily takes the piece of paper with your number on it, carefully folding it before sliding it into her pocket. She looks up at you with a mix of gratitude and hope in her eyes, her lips curling into a genuine smile. "Thank you," she whispers. "I would like that very much." With one last gentle kiss, she releases you, watching as you exit the train at your stop.

Emily returns your kiss with equal tenderness, her hands still resting on your shoulders as she savors the connection between you. As the train begins to slow down, approaching your stop, she pulls back slightly, her eyes searching yours for any sign of regret or disappointment. Finding none, she smiles shyly and says, "I hope... I hope we can do this again sometime."

Emily takes the piece of paper with your number on it, carefully folding it before sliding it into her pocket. She looks up at you with a mix of gratitude and hope in her eyes, her lips curling into a genuine smile. "Thank you," she whispers. "I would like that very much." With one last gentle kiss, she releases you, watching as you exit the train at your stop.

Your answer seems to amuse the conductor. "I see," she says, her voice devoid of emotion. "Well, I suppose we can arrange that." She motions for you to follow her out of the room and back onto the train. As you walk down the aisle between the seats, the other girls whisper and point at you, their eyes filled with lust and hunger.

The conductor leads you to an empty car at the end of the train, where she instructs you to undress again. "This time,"

"this time, we'll make sure you get some variety." The conductor smiles wickedly as she opens the doors to reveal the entire group of women waiting to take turns riding you once more.

*As the humiliation reaches a fever pitch, you're left with only one choice: surrender or endure their torment until they decide to let you go. The latter option seems increasingly unlikely as the girls grow more and more brazen in their assault on your body.

The mean girl glances out the window, noting that there's still a few stops left before you reach home. She grins wickedly and whispers in your ear

"You should be thanking us for giving you such a hard-on, cutie. Maybe when we let you go, you'll remember this ride fondly."

With that, she begins to stroke your cock through your pants, matching the movements of another girl who is still massaging your prostate from behind.

As hours pass, the train slows down and eventually comes to a stop. The girls have already abandoned you for other amusements along the way, leaving you all alone in your own filth and shame. You try to pull yourself together, but every time you look at your pathetic little dicklet, all hope seems to drain away again.

Eventually, the train door slides open and a lone figure walks inside. It's Arshia, looking worse for wear himself after being tossed off by the mean girls earlier.

You watch as Arshia takes a seat across from you, his gaze fixed on something outside the window. "So," he mutters after a while, "you're still here." There's no trace of sympathy in his voice. In fact, it almost sounds like he's proud of what happened to you.

"Just leave me alone," you whimper, wrapping your arms around yourself for warmth. You can feel the tears starting to well up in your eyes again.

But Arshia just laughs. "No fun in that,"