Different transportation, same public

(This is a smut chapter.)

As you expected, this ferry is really cramped. There are handles hanging from the roof, but they’re placed carelessly with no pattern, so everyone’s standing shoulder to shoulder in a chaotic crowd. At least there are only safety rails on the sides of the boat, instead of walls, so it’s not too stuffy. You’d even be able to look out at the water, if your vision wasn’t blocked on all sides by strangers…

You’ve barely even set sail when you feel a hand slip into the enormous gap in the side of your sweater from behind. Tch, a groper already. Unfortunately for him, you know exactly how to deal with gropers. You’ll just grab his wrist, then turn around and catch him tit-handed! But, when you look down to grab his hand, a thought crosses your mind. Getting onto this crowded public transportation in nothing but this revealing sweater that’s so easy to reach into… Was this really a good idea?

Your momentary hesitation gives him the opening he needs to starts squeezing and rubbing your bare boob, making you lightly gasp. Your free hand darts to your mouth to avoid letting out any more noises, giving the groper full access to your body. He digs his fingers into your supple breast immediately, squeezing you with nothing but greed. Troublingly, your nipples are hard in an instant, and your pussy is already wet. Why is your body so slutty and ready for sex? Well, either way, this guy doesn’t have permission to touch you like that. You better explain things quickly, or he’ll misunderstand and things will get out of hand.

You move your hand from your mouth long enough to whisper, “I-I’m not that kind of girl. Please stop…” Th-That was a little more meek than you intended, but it should be easy enough for him to understand.

The man leans in and mumbles, “You walk into this crowd wearing only this slutty sweater and you expect me to keep my hands off you? Face it, little lady: You’re asking for it.”

Your face goes pale as you begin to find his words more believable than your own. It’s exactly as you feared. From everyone else’s perspective, you look like exactly that kind of girl! “Really, please, I-I’m not asking for it-”

*SMACK*

The man smacks the bottom of your ass, a simple task thanks to your skimpy sweater failing to adequately cover your butt. You can’t even stop yourself from squeaking out loud. His hand then slips into the back of your panties and finds the entrance to your pussy. Before you can get a word out, his fingers are already inside. Your hand goes right back to your mouth, muting moans from the sudden, unsolicited stimulation. Ugh, why’s that feel so good? The anxious arousal of getting fingered in public is one thing, but on top of that, this guy really seems to know what he’s doing. He’s probably molested plenty of girls before you. All of them were asking for it, no doubt. B-But you’re different! Ohh, of all the days for you to wear this thing!

“Not asking for it?” the molester asks. “Not even you believe that. There’s only one possible outcome if you walk around dressed like such a skank, and your dripping wet pussy already knows what it is.”

He’s wrong! But you can’t deny, that’s exactly what it looks like. If it were any other girl, you’d be thinking the same thing about her! And you’d be right! So… is it possible for a girl to be asking for it without meaning to? Because, if so, you’re seriously accidentally asking for it!

You briefly let go of the handle above you, making a **** attempt to stifle your moans with one hand and swat away the groper with the other. This will prove you’re not asking for it. Yet, at that precise moment, the ferry hits a wave head-on, shoving everyone on board backwards. With nothing to hold onto, you collide into the molester behind you. The space you were occupying is quickly taken up by other people looking for more elbow room. Somehow, so quickly, you’ve ended up boxed in on all sides without an inch to separate you from this malicious stranger. Sweat starts to roll down your face as you say, “Please be a gentleman.”

He responds, “I can’t promise the ‘gentle’ part.”

The molester reaches around to the front of your panties, having easier access than ever to your soaked nethers. You grab his wrist with both hands, but the rapid thrusting of his fingers immediately erodes your strength. You can only stand there, pinned between his arm and his body as he fingers your defenseless, leaky quim. With your eyes clenched shut and your mouth locked in an open O-shape, all of your focus is on the skillful fingerfucking you have to endure without making a sound. His fingers are long, filling up most of your tunnel as he slides them back and forth, stirring up your honeypot so badly that you splash pussy juices all over your crotch and thighs. H-How did things get to this point? You were a split second away from exposing this man as a groper, but now, you can’t draw any attention to yourself without exposing your soaking wet crotch. Nobody would believe this man is forcing himself onto you. With such slutty clothes and an even sluttier pussy, they’d think you were asking for it! This situation is too much for your pent-up pussy to handle! You’re gonna…

“*Cum!*” you squeak, using every last bit of strength to lower your volume. Girlcum squirts onto the floor of the ferry as your lower lips utterly fail to quiet their response the way your upper lips did. In fact, even the molester’s constant fingering is noisy as he refuses to give your soaked, spasming pussy a break. Your ears are filled with the wet sounds of your love juices being **** out of you with total ease. “Please, a break! Give my *huff* pussy a break!” you whisper desperately, growing winded from getting fingered mid-climax.

“Hmm?”

A voice comes from your side, apparently having taken notice of your deplorable situation. Oh no, you’ve been caught! Your heart catches in your chest, and the shame of being seen in this state has you halfway to cumming again already. But wait, if you can explain the situation properly, maybe he’ll help you.

“I-It was *huff* an accident. I made a *huff* poor wardrobe choice. And then *huff* this guy made me cum, and-”

“This one’s asking for it,” your molester interrupts.

“I see that,” the spectator answers.

Not even an innocent bystander is taking your side!? Apparently this sweater is worse than you thought. If both men agree so quickly, then you must have been asking for it… Before you’ve even caught your breath, the molester lifts you into the air, still facing away from him, and places your asshole on the head of his dick. It’s only when you feel your bare backdoor, threatened with a stiff cock, that you realize your panties were slid down to your ankles while you were distracted. In the time it takes you to blink, the bystander lines himself up with your pussy, giving you little choice but to accept double penetration as punishment for dressing like a whore.

“Grab on,” the molester instructs.

You look up and notice the handle that he’s no longer holding, on account of lifting you instead. You gulp and grab the handle with both hands. “O-Okay, but this isn’t why I’m dressed like *THIIIIS!*”

The molester fills you up with a single stroke, turning your elegant backside into a simple hole to pass the time during his commute. The second man stuffs your cunt just as easily, making you clench down with all your weary pussy muscles, still tired from getting fingered to orgasm. With both your hands occupied, the only way to stifle your moans is with raw willpower, something that you’re running short on. If not for the sound of the waves, everyone around you would hear your sweet song notes as your holes get impaled with the rock-hard cocks of total strangers. It’s so shameful to let them get away with this, but there’s no way you could bear to draw attention to yourself now. You’d die of embarrassment! With your dignity held hostage, you’ve lost all control over the situation, all because you hesitated at the start.

Just when you thought that getting your pussy stuffed was your only concern, hands reach into your sweater from either side, roughly groping your pale melons. Two more bystanders? And they’re all taking the molester’s side!? As four strangers help themselves to your body, your heart loses the courage to blame them for their actions. Every time a stranger’s cock bottoms out in your easily accessible pussy, or grinds against your anal sweet spot, you feel personally responsible for giving them the opportunity. Every time you feel electric pleasure welling up in the fat tits you’re flaunting around, you know you could’ve stopped it by not stepping outside dressed like a total slut.

“She’s clamping down on my cock. Obviously wanted this from the start.”

“It’s what she gets for teasing red-blooded men with such a fuckable body.”

“We’re practically victims here. Apologize for dragging us into your perversions!”

The men all speed up, plowing your guilty pussy, publicly buttfucking your clueless ass, and mauling your offensively lewd tits way harder than you can endure. With repentant lust flooding your mind, you whisper, “I’m sorryyyy! I didn’t mean to ask for iiiiiit!” Climax hits you like a truck, coaxing an absolutely humiliating amount of girlcum from your contemptible cunt. You compulsively wrap your legs around the man in front of you as the passengers run rampant inside your spasming holes, teaching you an orgasmic and embarrassing lesson. While the men continue molesting your body like a free buffet, you offer degrading apologies in between whorish moans that are much louder than you’d prefer. It’s not until you’re in your sensitive afterglow that the molesters finally finish, painting the innermost walls of your sacredmost holes with the hot seed of strangers whose names you never learned. And the only one to blame for it is you, with your own poor decisions and lack of personal accountability.

Just as you’ve finished apologizing for the last spurt of cum being stored in your slutty sphincter, the ferry comes to a stop. Ah! You’re at Cinnabar Island! “Put me down! Please!” you whisper urgently.

Graciously, the molester sets you down on your own two shaky feet. “Get on out, then. And don’t forget what happens when you ask for it. Letting your tits and ass practically hang out in the open and thinking nobody will do anything about it… I swear, kids these days…”

“Y-Yes sir. Sorry sir,” you mumble.

Knock-kneed to keep the cum from dripping any further down your thighs, you stumble off the ferry with your panties still hanging from one ankle. As the rest of the passengers exit the ferry, seemingly everyone takes the opportunity to squeeze your tits or your asscheeks. It may have been a ferry, but it was just as stressful and exhausting as your usual bus rides. Looks like the public transportation around here is just as bad as it is in Rifure Town…

You’d better get to the Pokemon Center so you can clean yourself up.