Groping and Girl Talk

Vicki moaned as a strong, feminine hand groped her ass roughly, booty-meat squishing and deforming under the pressure of its powerful grip and little prickling sensations shooting up her spine as long, perfectly-manicured nails lightly scraped against her skin. She pressed her ass back against the pressure plate built into the wall of the carriage, wiggling her safety plug even deeper up her asshole, but the phantom hand continued to squeeze and tease her. Heat began to build in the core of each asscheek as the hand moved back and forth, slowly growing through her body until Vicki was panting and gasping.

Beads of sweat sprang up all over Vicki's body as the ghostly hand continued its ****, some running down the curves of her cleavage or ass as if trying to draw some unseen gaze after them. Even the lungfuls of warm air she was gulping down, saturated with the scent of dripping, needy pussies and hot, virile femme cocks, were like ice compared to the heat radiating out from her ass. With a breathy moan of effort, the reporter pulled herself away from the wall and then clapped her ass back against the pressure plate, her addled mind trying to crush the mysterious molesting presence between her booty and the wall of the carriage.

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The hand squeezed her extra possessively in response, asserting its control over Vicki's ass.

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Vicki's cheeks rippled with each impact of her ass.

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The reporter's asshole stretched around the widest part of the safety plug over and over, even as the metal bulb expanded to suit her ASS.

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Vicki's bright red thong, which had been pulled to one side to allow the safety plug to enter her, snapped into so many pieces of floss - totally unable to withstand the sheer, delicious size of her ASS.

"Goddess," Vicki moaned dazedly as the phantom fingers gave one last squeeze and disappeared, feeling like she had just finished a marathon workout at The Squat Rack, "gotta get some new outfits, gotta show off my ASS!" The Canadian's new concrete-crushing caboose cushioned her as she leaned back in her 'seat', utterly drained and able to do nothing but stare at the swirling patterns and clothing advertisements flashing rapidly across the wall mounted television screen opposite her.

With the last passenger secure, Renee Montoya was snatched out of her jealous ASS-centric daydreams by the harsh tug of her own safety plug. The Transit Authority cop was dragged ass-first through the air down the length of the carriage and slammed into the pressure plate at the end with booty-clapping ****. The impact stunned her with a hit of masochistic pleasure for long enough that she didn't notice her wrist and ankle manacles being magnetised to the carriage wall, holding her spread-eagle and helpless as the train set off.

As Officer Montoya tried - in vain, as always - to ignore the vibrations rumbling up from the train and through her tight cheeks, the door opposite her opened and a woman strutted into the carriage like she owned the place. Mostly, it was because she basically did; Kate Kane was one of Mayor Kyle's most prolific and devoted donors, using her family's fortune to keep the wheels of civic government turning and the pistons of local industry pumping, and Selina had rewarded her loyalty with free reign of the Gotham City public transit network.

Kate was entitled to do whatever she wanted with the bodies of the passengers and staff, a power signified by the special gold-flecked purple buttplug and matching lipstick that she wore. With her most frequent target - and on-again, off-again girlfriend - now helplessly magnetized to the wall, she sashayed down the length of the carriage towards her. Spinning on the spot before Officer Montoya, Kate planted her hands on the floor and rose into a handstand before slamming her ballet-booted feet into the wall on either side of the cop's head.

The redhead's ASS, honed by years of military and gymnastic training to go with the more mundane Squat Rack workouts that all of Gotham's high society partook in, clapped and jiggled as she began to twerk in her lover's face. Black latex wrapped in red fishnets rippled and shimmered under the swirling light of the television screens. Kate thrust her ass back whenever Officer Montoya opened her mouth to speak, smothering her words between her asscheeks or under her juicy latex-wrapped pussy.

"Mmmm... Fuck, Renee," she moaned, grinding her glossy cameltoe against Officer Montoya's face, "I know we said we were off again, but... Goddess, I've just gotta take you home tonight!" She bit her lip in embarrassment and lifted her hips from her girlfriend's face. "I talked with Selina, and she reminded me what I was missing," she continued, unconsciously smothering Renee's mouth again before she could speak up, "so I'm going to make things right! I'm gonna eat that pretty little ass of yours all night long!"

If she'd been able to, Renee might have rolled her eyes and reminded Kate that a lack of ass-worship from the redhead had never been a problem in their relationship, or sardonically asked her if she planned on working on balancing her 'work'-to-life situation better. But here - helplessly bound, smothered by Kinky Kate's pussy, her own pussy throbbing endlessly in time with the train's engines - all she could do was moan and lick latex as she decided that yeah, maybe it was time to give their relationship another go.