She closes her legs. (Dignity +1)

Lila's heart pounded in her chest as the man's fingers continued their slow, invasive crawl up her thigh. Her skin crawled beneath his touch, revulsion warring with a perverse thrill that sent shivers down her spine. She bit her lip, stifling a whimper that threatened to escape.

With exquisite slowness, Lila began to shift her position. Her movements were subtle, calculated to appear natural rather than defensive. She crossed her ankles, the silk of her stockings whispering against itself. Then, millimeter by agonizing millimeter, she drew her knees together.

The man's hand was trapped between her thighs now, his fingers wedged uncomfortably against the taut muscles. Lila held her breath, praying he would take the hint. For a moment, his grip tightened, thick digits digging into her soft flesh. She could feel the heat of his palm through the thin fabric of her skirt, a brand of masculine entitlement searing her skin.

Minutes crawled by, each second stretching into eternity. The train's rhythmic swaying became a torturous dance, alternately pressing Lila against the man's bulk and offering fleeting moments of relief. The air in the car grew thick and oppressive, heavy with the mingled scents of sweat, perfume, and desperation.

Lila's gaze remained fixed on the floor, studying the intricate pattern of grime and wear etched into the metal. She counted the scuff marks, the discarded wrappers, anything to distract herself from the violation occurring mere inches away. In her peripheral vision, she caught glimpses of polished shoes and bare ankles, a stark reminder of the social hierarchy that now defined their world.

The ambient noise of the train - the screech of metal on metal, the low murmur of conversation, the occasional cough or rustle of fabric - faded into a dull roar in Lila's ears. Her entire being was focused on the point of contact between her thigh and the man's grasping fingers.

Just when Lila thought she could bear it no longer, the pressure eased. The man's hand retreated, leaving behind a phantom sensation that made her skin crawl. She risked a glance at his face, seeing a mixture of frustration and cruel amusement in his piggy eyes. He huffed, the sound somewhere between a laugh and a snort, before shifting his bulk away from her.

Relief washed over Lila like a cool wave, leaving her weak and trembling in its wake. She remained perfectly still, afraid that any movement might reignite the man's interest. The final minutes of the journey passed in a haze of residual fear and nauseating gratitude.

When the train finally screeched to a halt at her station, Lila's legs nearly buckled as she stood. She **** herself to move with measured grace, hyper-aware of the eyes that followed her progress down the aisle.