Train by Dark Cloud

The train rattled along its tracks making a rhythmic click-clack noise that you would have thought would have induced sleep in the three occupants of the carriage. It was 3:50 in the morning, everything was dark outside but all three girls were wide awake and alert and strangely silent. You could cut the atmosphere with a knife (but a knife right then wouldn’t have been a good thing for them to have). Anna reflected that she couldn’t wait to get off at the next stop, it had been an uncomfortable ride home for all of them and she was desperate to escape it. Thing is the journey down, all those hours earlier, had been so good. There were six off them, just a year out of finishing their University course and meeting up again for the first time for a girl’s night out in the city. They had got dolled up and had all joined the train on it’s way down at various stops until they were all together and enjoying a great laugh and having a few drinks on the train. From there they had gone to a posh restaurant and then to pubs and clubs, getting progressively more drunk and raucous. And then it had gone so spectacularly wrong.

They were all in their early twenties, a good mix of personalities really and had been good friends at Uni but it was apparent that some of them had changed considerably since starting the rest of their lives. Kate really was the one who seemed to have changed most, and not, in the eyes of the others, for the better. She had been the shy one at first that the others had adopted into their group and watched her come out of her shell and become a confident, beautiful woman. But as she had developed she had got a little big headed and “up herself” and by the time it came to leave education behind quite a few were near to falling out with her. Kate wasted little time telling everyone on the train how successful she had been, what a great job she had snagged and basically how much better she was then them. Fine to begin with, all the girls had stories to relate of various successes but before long (actually during the meal in town) everyone was heartily sick of the spoilt brat that Kate seemed to have become. And with more alcohol it only got worse.

She had really blossomed into stunning young woman, tall, with long blonde hair and a beautiful smile, but it was apparent that her attitude had changed for the worse. She seemed to have developed a mean, nasty streak that saw her mock others openly, laugh at people’s misfortune, not show much consideration for feelings and generally be a selfish bitch. The other five girls tried to ignore it, not wanting to ruin the night out but once they hit a nightclub they could no longer do that.

Perhaps it was the drink that was changing Kate and making her so unpleasant, but the others didn’t really think so. Especially of that opinion was Asma. Asma was the oldest of the group and had always felt like an outsider before meeting the girls at University. She was of Asian descent and her father was a successful businessman who had put all his resources in making his only daughter a success. And she was a success, doing well in education she had gone on to get a good job and even snagged a part-time deal as a model. She deserved that modelling contract, for sure, she was tall and leggy and carried herself supremely gracefully, her light brown skin radiated warmth and subtlety and she had the most winning smile that you had seen. Her long, dark hair that cascaded over her shoulders was her best feature though and she had even gained a few shampoo TV commercials. She really was that pretty. But she was very grounded and down to earth and could get on with just about anybody.
At the club all the girls ended up splitting up and some headed to the toilets, some to the dance floor and some to the bar area. Asma felt like a dance and before long was strutting her stuff on the dance floor and really enjoying herself. So were the guys, her outfit was trendy and chic but still showed plenty of her beautiful flesh as she danced with great class and energy. One hunk in particular took a shine to her and managed to grab a couple of dances with her and they hit it off enough for her to join him for a drink on the sofas later on. But as they sat down Kate appeared at their side and made a painfully obvious play for him, seemingly not bothered that he was chatting with Asma.

Asma smiled as Kate sat herself down beside them, trying to convey with her eyes that she should leave them alone. Kate recognised this but just smiled back and settled into the sofa. She started speaking to the guy, almost as if Asma wasn’t there, very obviously coming on to him and flirting outrageously with him. He gave her little encouragement.

The guy was obviously smitten with Asma and made it pretty clear he wasn’t too interested in Kate, which only served to anger her further. Taking this brush off in her stride, Kate downed the rest of her glass of wine, smiled sweetly and then spoke clearly and loudly.

“Well if you’re into ‘her kind’ good fucking luck to you loser.”

The comment stung Asma.

“What do you mean my kind Kate, eh?”

Kate could have backed down and the guy was already inching away, not wanting to get involved in something that looked like getting pretty nasty. Fortunately just as Kate was about to spell out exactly what she meant (and the word Paki was ion the tip of her tongue) the other girls realised there was an issue and managed to separate them. But since that point neither had spoken or even looked at each other and now as Anna, the last of the others got off the train and wished them both goodnight, she was both glad to be off but worried about the two of them alone in the carriage. Kate’s stop was next but it was at least fifty minutes up the line.

AS the train door slid shut and the train slowly picked up speed kate swivelled her head to stare at Asma with her ice cold, blue eyes.

“I’ll tell you what I meant bitch” she spat, unbelievable venom and hate in her voice and contorting her face, “I meant you’re a fucking Paki, you’re not from here, you swan around like you’re something fucking special but you’re not. You should be working in a little corner shop newsagents, that’s all your sort are good for.”

This verbal assault brought back all kinds of horrible memories for Asma, bullied and racially abused at school she had thought that she was past that and instinctively she lashed out, blinded by her own anger at the unacceptable slur. The gangway between then was thin and her hadn lashed out and slapped a surprised Kate right across her cheek. Kate sat stunned unsure what she should do but it was Asma that moved first. She was not a woman of violence and was upset by what her old friend had said and by her reaction, with tears forming she got up and made to head to the toilety cubicle at the end of the carriage, thinking she could calm down a bit in there.

But she only made it a few seats down the carriage before Kate had snapped out of her stunned self and she raced behind the Asian girl and fastened her long fingernails into Asma’s beautiful long hair. Kate pulled back hard, tearing some strand of that perfect hair from the scalp but that also saw kate’s hand slip from the hair and when she reached again to grab Asma she missed the hair and hooked her fingers into the tied back silver top that Asma was wearing. And the strength to pull hair out was more than enough to rip the tiny strap across her neck and back that held the revealing top on and Asma suddenly felt the top fall off her leaving her topless and nearly jammed in the tight gangway as kate again hooked her hair and tugged sharply.

“Put your hands on me you fucking darkie, I’ll fucking kill you!”

But as Kate went to deliver another hair pulling jerk the train shuddered around a corner, sending both women sprawling to their left and into the seats next to them. Panicking Asma made it to her feet and her brain was still operating under the thought of reaching the sanctuary of the toilets so she made down the corridor again. She had created a distance between her and her mad, blonde attacker but it wasn’t enough as Kate literally launched herself at Asma’s back and landed on it, hooking her arm under her chin. The force of her landing was too much for the tall Asian and she fell forward hard onto the floor of the carriage (which was wet and slippery and had scatterings of the days debris all over it). The gap they were in now was just before the toilet section of the traina dn had widened to allow standing and luggage during busier times so there was a fair bit more space and manoeuvrability for the girls.

But Asma wasn’t moving anywhere, the fall had driven the wind from her and splatted her boobs hard on the unforgiving floor. Kate meanwhile, had been relatively protected in the fall and seemed intent on putting real hurting on Asma. She viciously pulled more strand of Asma’s luscious hair out and laughed maniacally as she tossed it up in the air before her. Asma was always so proud of her hair so Kate was determined to ruin it. But Asma not really reacting to this was annoying Kate and she made it to her feet and delivered two kicks with her high heeled shoes right into Asma’s exposed ribcage, gleaning a satisfaction of Asma grimacing and crying out in pain at each blow. As Asma tried to cover up she rolled over and at the sight of Asma’s large nipples her blue eyes widened as she saw a new target for her pent up rage. She dropped atop of Asma’s chest, difficult in the tiny black miniskirt she wore but once she was down she got Asma’s arms under her thighs and taunted her.

“Well, Well what nice tits you have…….for a Paki” , at this insult she dug her long nails into the breast flesh around Asma’s nipple and pincered her nails into it viciously. Asma cried out for aid but there was no one around and as Kate increased the pressure it dawned on Asma that unless she fought back herself then Kate was intent on really hurting her. Realising this and realising that because of the way Kate was sat upon her her fingers were actually unencumbered, Asma moved them and found that they were actually under Kate’s skirt and that they were brushing Kate’s inner thighs. She could nip there but then she brushed Kate’s pussy lips, she wasn’t wearing panties (no shock as Kate had been acting like a slut all night). Tightening her eyes against the increasing pain in her tits as Kate squeezed harder she levered her fingers up to catch Kate’s clit hood and with all the strength she could muster nipped it with her thumb and index finger nails and held on.

The effect was instant as Kate squealed and tried to leap off her victim, her hands immediately left Asma’s breast and tried to move to her injured pussy but just at that moment the train shuddered violently again and she was thrown to the floor of the carriage while Asma somehow mad it on top of her and kept her vice like grip on Kate’s pussy. She kept it up for twenty seconds or so until kate was writhing on the floor in agony. Asma was not after more than seperation form her attacker and released her hold, thinking Kate defeated and unsteadily headed for the toilet dor, all the time gently feeling her damaged tits. She looked down at the still writhing Kate as she pressed the button and waited for the metallic door to slide open. As the door slid round and she stepped in she didn’t realise that kate was being driven by an unquenchable anger and had forced herself up and was just in time to deliver a hard shove to Asma’s back and send her careering forward and smack her pretty face right into the dirty mirror on the wall, opening up a small cut at the side of her right eye.

Kate stood in the entrance to the small cubicle and took in the sights and smells of the desperate little room. Again it had not been cleaned since much earlier that day and the floor was a wet mess of what could only be piss. The sink was stuffed with toilet roll and the pan itself was apparently blocked as it was in danger of overflowing it’s vile load of heavy yellow fluid with bits of toilet paper floating in it. Asma groaned and raised her hurt head, she was dazed and knelt on the floor. In that position she was ripe for Kate to once again grip her hair from behind and with a crazed smile across her face she shoved Asma’s head as far into the toiler bowl as she could get it!

Through some desperate instinct she managed to keep her mouth closed and tried to hold her breath but the smell and sensations were thick and cloying and she wanted to vomit. After some thirty seconds or so Kate pulled Asma’s face from the toilet and watched some of the fluid splashed out and over the floor as she did so she saw that Asma had managed to keep her mouth closed and got down behind her, felt for her panties, wriggled her fingers in and dished out a clit nip of her own. Asma opened her mouth to cry out and at that very moment Kate once again dipped her face into the piss. She swallowed a whole mouthful of the stuff and when Kate relented her hold again she came up coughing and spluttering like a fish out of water and knelt in a mess on the floor of the vestibule.

Kate hooked her fingers in Asma’s saturated hair in preparation for another dunking, god she was starting to enjoy herself now after a pretty dull night. But those long heels let her down as with another slight judder and a little resistance from Asma’s head, Kate’s heel snapped and she went right over her ankle and in trying to stay up she fell backwards and cracked her head on on of the luggage holders outside the toilet cubicle. The glancing blow was enough to knock Kate out and she was stunned and on her back as Asma somehow made it to her unsteady feet. She was topless and soaking and feeling nauseous but more than anything else she was fucking angry. Her own shoes were lost somewhere in here but she ignored that fact and padded out to the downed blonde and wasted no time in tearing off Kate’s strappy little top and flung it down the carriage. If she was going to be exposed so was the racist bitch! In fact Asma went further and pulled off Kate’s skirt and her remaining shoe leaving her naked on the floor.

In the mood for revenge she pulled at Kate’s long blonde hair and heaved her up off the floor and targeted the toilet door, determined to see how she liked getting it the piss. But as Asma guided Kate through the doorway Kate suddenly came to and seeing where she was being led and guessing what Asma planned, Kate hooked her hands on the doorframe and used her feet to stop their progress. Asma pushed and pulled but couldn’t move her and she feared Kate might recover too soon so she dropped to her knees sharply and delivered a fierce uppercut right into Kate’s exposed pussy. Spread like that a dull, low pain exuded from the pit of Kate’s stomach and she instinctively reached for her injured pussy, somehow rolling to the side of the door.

Enjoying the pain etched on Kate’s face Asma continued by pulling Kate’s legs apart and stamping her bare foot right down onto Kate’s cunt. As Kate squealed again Asma poured on the pain by dropping her knee down oto the injured area and now the tears were forming in the stuck up blonde’s eyes. Asma had never been in a catfight in her life but was starting to enjoy this, all the pent up anger from her childhood and from the insults of earlier that night were fueling her and she looked around and found a discarded umbrella and decided she could use that too.

It was a colourful golf umbrella with a pointed metal tip. Asma stood over the cowering kate and smacked it down on her head repeatedly. Some of the blows connected, others didn’t but she shouted with each swing.

“You. Fucking. Dumb. Blonde. Racist. Bitch. I. Fucking Hate. You!”

The last shot scrapped across Kate’s forehead and brought a thin red line across much of the length of Kate’s head. The blood seemed to further fire Asma’s temper and she grabbed the umbrella down by the tip and poked the tip into the cut and scrapped it back and forwards with little concern. Kate tried to block the attack with her hands but with little success and when Asma finally stood back she was gratified to see she had increased to trickled of claret coloured stuff that dripped from Kate’s forehead. Kate put her hand to the wound and was horrified to find the hand red when she pulled it away.

Asma straddled Kate and brought the umbrella down horizontally across kate’s throat and tried to choke her with it. And she succeeded as well, Kate was tired and wounded and could barely fight back as the handle pushed into her throat and she felt the blood pound in her head and the trickle down her face of the blood from her cut.

Spittle flew from Asma’s mouth as she shouted down at her opponent struggling below her.

“Not so fucking tough now are we Miss High and Mighty!”

Asma was possessed and with the fight fading from Kate she shifted her weight further up Kate’s body so her knees were across the handle of the umbrella and she enjoyed herself slapping Kate’s struggling face. Kate knew she was fading and was suddenly terrified. How could this Paki bitch be beating her? The fear seemed to bring a small burst of energy and she used it along with Asma’s new position to heave her up and off her and rolled to the side. At least it had created a gap and somehow Kate ignored the pain that wracked her body and got to her knees. Asma got to her knees as well and for a split second the two hellcats looked at each other, paused, then each lashed out with a slap to the other’s face. Asma’s had the more power and it stunned Kate but Kate’s was nasty as she had led with her fingernails and they each dug four nasty furrows right down Asma’s model looks face.

Suddenly Asma’s cheek stung like hell and she reached up to cover it and clutch it. Still desperate Kate launched herself from her knees at her foe and the pair of them crashed to the floor. Each hooked their hands into the other’s hair and pulled at it as the rolled on the dirty floor trying to get an edge. When haywire’s pulling at hair the were scratching and biting at each other and they were brawling like two alley cats rather than two well educated girls with great jobs. Kate got an opening and raked her nails across Asma’s pert breasts viciously, then hooked them into the flesh and dug deep with her shar p nails and relished the squeals that came from the Asian.

Asma rolled to her front trying to shake Kate’s claw off and suddenly Kate saw a flash of white to her right hand side. She realised it was a plastic shopping bag and an evil plan hit her. She reached out, grabbed the bag and then suddenly released the tit hold, Asma sighed at the release but that was a false dawn as Kate opened the bag and pulled it down over Asma’s head.

Suddenly Asma was plunged into an opaque hell. Kate wrapped her hands around the handles and pulled tight, allowing no air to enter and her hands were useless as they were trapped under her front. Panicking she realised she was trapped. She closed her eyes and preyed to her god for salvation but none was to come and seconds later she passed out and her head slumped forward. So evil was kate that she seriously considered keeping up the pressure and snuffing her out but where was the fun in that? She released her hold and pulled the bag from the unconscious Asma and formulated her next move.

Asma came to some time later, her head throbbed and she felt sore all over her body. The events of earlier came back to her and she tried to move but quickly discovered that wasn’t possible. As soon as Kate had recovered she had wasted no time in stripping Asma of her skirt and stockings, she then tide the stockings around Asma’s wrists and wound them tightly over the overhead metal bag carriers, so she stood stark naked in the middle of the gangway, her arms held high above her. There was no sign of Kate and Asma groaned as another wave of pain hit her head.

At the sound Kate got up. She was sitting with her back to the bitch waiting for her to come around, in the time Asma had been away Kate had managed to find her clothes and get dressed again and it was a fully dressed and cocky Kate that strutted down the gangway to the tied up girl.

Asma opened her mouth to attempt to plead or reason with Kate, aware of her precarious position, but as she opened it Kate shoved something inside, it was Asma’s own red silk panties Kate sneered as she came right up to Asma and told her what they were and mocked her.

“Looks like you lost Asma, just like your people to lose and…..”

She never got any further as Asma managed to pull her head back and mustered all the strength and power she could and head butted the smug blonde right on the bridge of her nose. Kate reeled back, her hands held to her face, she squealed as she felt the blood drip down from her broken nose and knelt in agony. Asma doubled her efforts to escape her bonds. Finally, she got some movement in the tight knot above her and she tried to shrink her wrist but as she closed her eyes in intense concentration she missed the livid blonde rise up, storm forward and aim a kick (and her shoes were back on by now) squarely between the Asian girls legs. Her attempts at freedom were forgotten as Kate launched a frenzied attack with slaps, punches and scratches to Asma’s unprotected face. Finally, she grabbed Asma by her ears and delivered a head butt back in kind, revelling in the crack that came from the solid contact. She felt her own facial injuries and smiled at the mess that Asma’s cover girls looks were now.

Asma was pretty much out of it and hung there limply as Kate retreated to her handbag and took out her red lipstick.

“You look kinda down Asma, let me give you a makeover.”

That makeover consisted of writing the word “SLUT” on her forehead, and “PAKI BITCH” on her stomach and “ASS FOR RENT” on her lower back with a an arrow leading to her asshole. Proud of her work Kate stood in front of Asma and took a hold of a tuft of her dark, curly pubic hair and tore it out to wake her up again as the train stopped.

“My stop bitch, see you around, enjoy the rest of the trip.”

Kate got off at her stop with a smile on her damaged face, it only got wider as she passed a gang of baseball cap wearing and skinhead youths getting on the train and entering the carriage she had left Asma in. Perfect!