Station Master Jeff Exilimar (Jeff_Exilimar@yahoo.com)
It was a Thursday when it happened. The old bum went up to Karen and started hitting on her. He was about ten years older than I am, about fifty, and hadn't washed in weeks it seemed, and here he was hitting on a twenty three year old girl. I tried to get over to them and make the guy move away, but the train was kinda full, even for a Chicago afternoon. As we pulled into the station, he must have gotten bolder, because Karen let out a startled yelp. A flash of silver marked a small blade's passage and the wino jumped back with a bleeding hand and Karen darted out the door of the train. I ran through the door after her, using my radio to report the asshole on the train and make sure that a replacement for me would be placed on the line.
I'm Don Savoy, transit monitor for the City of Chicago. Not exactly a cop, more than a guard, I'm a conductor in most sense, except for the driving the train part. It's not a high paying job or glamorous, but I usually like the people on the train, especially regulars who behaved, like Karen. She probably never noticed me, we're like furniture, but I saw in her someone who was obviously trying to overcome something bad in her life, and a little anonymous help, well, I'm sure St. Peter will thank me when I get there.
Y'see, when I first saw Karen, oh, about six years ago, she was Eric. Eric was a foul-mouthed ill-tempered lout who was confused about his life and took it out on all around him. But somehow, someway, someone told him he had an odd problem, and solved it with the finest hormonal treatments America's devised yet apparently. One, one and a half years later Eric had shed one hundred pounds off his five foot eight frame placing him at about one twenty. Over the next year his body started developing a girl's figure, his demeanor became more subdued and civil, and unbeknownst to him, I was directing the more unaccepting people to other cars. Soon afterward Eric disappeared and Karen was there, trying to be a quiet shy nice girl as her body kept changing. Now after all this time, nobody would guess about her past, and obviously now had to deal with girl problems like the unwanted attention of a stranger.
I bolted down the stairs of the El station, and ran down the most likely way I thought Karen would run. A flash of her long auburn hair I saw up ahead, ducking into a local coffeehouse. I slowed down, collected myself, and entered the cafe. I didn't see Karen, so I walked up to the counter and asked if they'd seen her. She'd (obviously) ducked into the women's bathroom. It was a small place, so it had just the single locking door for the one facility inside. I explained a little of the situation to the clerk, and asked her for the emergency key to the bathroom.
I knocked on the door gently and called out her name. I tried to talk to her through the door, but it was a fairly thick wooden door, and, let's face it, after her experience just now it was doubtful she was trusting anyone... even herself. So I used the key. The minute the tumblers started falling I heard a panicked scrabbling from behind the door. I stood back and pushed the door open, trying to be ready for anything.
She was huddled in the corner, her knife out in front of her. Her eyes were a little red, but as her transformation became more and more complete, she could use less and less make-up, so there were few smudges on that worried auburn hair framed face due to the circumstances. I explained to her who I was, that I'd seen the whole thing, that she was going to be ok. She kept waving that small pocketknife in front of the rather nice breasts that modern chemicals had given her. I just stood there, talking softly to her to calm and reassure her. We were a touch startled when my radio squawked with a police lieutenant informing up that the boozehound had been hauled off to the pokey and I could, if I'd found her yet, let Karen go.
I told her that she had nothing to worry about now, and with that the knife clattered to the tile floor and she threw her arms around me and with her head against my chest, began to cry. I just held her like that until she regained her composure, then left her in the bathroom to let her pull together.
While waiting, I ordered a pair of coffees, a decaf for her as I thought her nerves were already shot. Apparently she'd stopped here before, as they made hers a vanilla latte and didn't charge me for them. She came out of the bathroom, and as I handed her the drink I noticed that she'd just had bloodshot eyes and a nervous expression to show the trauma of the days events. I used my radio to check in and go off duty for the day, promising to return all the equipment on the next day. Then I offered to walk Karen back to her place. She smiled and said she'd really like that after all that'd gone down, she felt safer that way if I was around until she got home. Thanking the coffeehouse clerk, we started off to her place.
It wasn't a long walk at all and when she unlocked her door, I said my goodbyes and turned to leave. She asked me however if she couldn't thank me by having me over for dinner. I told her that it wasn't necessary, but Karen was rather insistent, so I caved. Her apartment was maybe a touch too girly, done in pinks and soft reds and a tremendous amount of white lace, but seemed to fit what little I knew of Karen's private life from the train. I sat down on the couch and waited while Karen started dinner. The clatter coming from the kitchen made me wonder if maybe she was making too big of a deal over this, but I frankly was committed by then to a dinner with this young girl.
Soon Karen emerged from her small kitchen and let me know dinner would be ready in twenty minutes. She sat next to me on the couch, turned on the TV to the Powerpuff Girls, and (much to my surprise) curled up next to me. For the next ten minutes my mind warred with several different concepts. She was cute, young and fairly attractive. I was old, I certainly didn't see myself as attractive and Damnit, she used to be and in some ways probably still is a boy. I didn't have to worry about anyone else's feelings except Karen's. She'd just been through all that and my marriage (my last relationship) had ended seven years ago in divorce. So as Karen began to calm down and feel at ease, it was I who became more tense and panicky.
Ding went the timer and Karen went into the kitchen to lay out dinner, and I felt like I was saved by the bell. She returned with a pair of plates, each with a chicken breast, some rice, and a small pile of mixed vegetables. I ate, listening to her describe her classes at the junior college, her family that was ashamed of her, her fascination with science fiction and fantasy. I provided some small chat of my own on the last subject, telling her of my admiration of great writers such as Asimov, Bradbury, and Clarke. I feigned horror when she claimed not to know who they were, then giggled as she showed me a signed copy of Fahrenheit 451.
Finally I felt the night was ending and I got up to take my leave of Karen's company. I thanked her for the evening and made my way to the door when she asked me to wait a second. I turned around and was surprised as Karen had rushed to me suddenly, threw her hands around my neck and kissed me with a lot of passion. Surprised by her I moved my own arms around her and returned this kiss to the best of my abilities. Finally we moved apart. She started apologizing as I was telling her that it was too quick after the days events and we had a giggle over our talking over one another. There was an awkward silence as we stood there in the doorway, both of us uncertain and immobile in our indecision. Finally I began to turn, just a twitch of my side muscles to rotate out the door when she said, "I wouldn't mind taking one chance."
I continued moving around, my head spinning in its way, trying to sort out its feelings on this matter. But my heart or soul or something must have wanted to stay to find out what would happen because I shut the door. Rationalizing that I'd stay until I was freaked out, I turned back to Karen who was looking at me very demurely, and she slowly reached out and took my hand and led me into the back of her apartment.
Once inside she unbuttoned my shirt and pulled it and the undershirt off. She ran her hands over my chest, moving the tips through the hair and over the nipples. Giggling, she began to give me little kisses on my abdomen while she unbuckled my belt. Almost as soon as the clasp came undone, my pants plummeted to the ground, propelled by all the equipment strapped to the Sam Browne. She knelt before me and pulled down my underwear. She was surprised when she found herself too close as my nine-inch penis plopped forward and rested on her cheek. Looking down as I stepped out of my pile of clothes, she was stroking my shaft with one hand, and playing with my balls with the other.
She stood up and led me to the shower in her small bathroom. I ran some water and jumped in to wash up. I heard some rustling from behind the curtain, then in stepped Karen. She was very close to me and leaning forward into me, so I couldn't see all the way down her body, but I was taken aback at how pretty she looked. Her skin was flawless, her body curved very attractively, and her breasts were firm round mounds riding high and proud on her chest. From this angle, she was every man's fantasy. She started soaping me up, scrubbing me from head to toe. Karen said she just wanted us to be real clean tonight. She got a bar of real delicate soap and lathered up my penis and scrotum then did something I didn't expect, she started shaving me down there. I'd never thought of it in my life and kinda nervously asked her what she was doing. She asked me to trust her, and looking back she did a real nice job. I mean she didn't nick me or nothing. It took her a couple of minutes, but soon she rinsed me off and stood up.
She exited the shower and I stayed in a touch longer to wash my hair, the hair on my head at least, and stepped out and toweled off. I walked into the room wearing the towel to see Karen lying on her side on the bed. She'd hidden her lower equipment, it seemed to me, so far as I could see she just a pretty girl waiting for of all people me. She had me sit against the headboard and lay my legs around her body. She rolled over onto her front and began to lick the head of my penis.
My ex had rarely done this for me, usually followed by a request for the credit card to buy some stupid trinket or something, but Karen seemed to take to the task enthusiastically. She ran her tongue all over my hardened shaft, then sucked on the head while licking the tip of my rod. Then she slid her lips down the entire length of myself, and sucked as powerfully as she could. When she came up she looked up at me and ran her tongue down my shaft and suddenly the reason for the shower became clear as she began to lick and nuzzle my bare scrotum. This was completely outside my experience and the pleasure of her oral ministrations was indescribably powerful.
After a few minutes of this, she pulled back and asked me how it felt. Rather than resort to words, I pulled her up, her breasts rubbing against my chest, and proceeded to kiss her. The unexpectedness of the move provided Karen with no time to, well, adjust herself so with that kiss I first felt her penis dangling against my own.
She looked a little panicked, and asked me if I was alright with it. I rolled her over so I was pressing down on her and kissed her. My tongue moved in her mouth as my chest hair tickled her nipples and my penis poked around her own. Frankly, it was the most erotic kiss I'd ever even dreamed of experiencing. I broke the kiss and let my tongue trail down her neck, over her shoulders, and up upon one of her breasts so I could suckle on the erect nipple there. She arched her back whenever my tongue flicked the little nub that crowned her chest, pressing her small penis into my stomach. I bathed one, then the other of her beautiful orbs with my mouth, then moved lower to satisfy my curiosity.
Between the hairlessness of her and the hormones Karen had to dose herself with, her penis and scrotum were quite tiny. Her balls appeared to be the size of butterscotch discs and her penis was thin, soft, and no more than four inches long. I surprised myself once again by starting playing with her genitals, touching and fondling and exploring their novelty with my hands. Karen started squirming and moaning in response to my manual manipulation of her and by now, with all inhibitions destroyed I took the next step... and took her shaft into my mouth. She let go a loud gasp as I engulfed her inside my mouth. She was so soft and small I was able to suck on Karen's balls while having her shaft inside my mouth. This caused her to absolutely writhe in ecstasy. She was so soft and small that it surprised me when her head flared in my mouth and a small bit of semen trickled into my throat as she came.
She apologized, obviously as surprised as I had been at her discharge, but I felt good that I'd been able to make her feel good. Karen kissed me and handed me a tube of gel, then rolled over onto her stomach and told me it was my turn for 'good feelings'. I covered one of my fingers in the lubricant and slowly inserted it into her rear. She groaned as the digit worked its way into her very tight orifice, her now lubed ring grabbing at the skin of my finger as it slid deep into her. When I thought the time was right I withdrew that finger and lubed up my shaft. I placed my head at her opening and slowly pushed into Karen. The tip popped in with a gasp from her, and she asked for a moment to get used to its much larger size. I slowly moved in and out, moving a little farther into her with each stroke. Before she knew it, I was pressed against her back, my arms around her, my hands cupping her breasts, and my rod completely inside of her. I moved back out of her almost completely, then dropped into her with a powerful thrust of my hips causing her to cry out in pleasure. Soon she was bucking back up into me as I pistoned my shaft in and out of her rear. Her pants, groans, sighs, and cries of sexual bliss as I made love to her turned me on more than I'd ever been in my entire life. This was the most exciting girl I'd ever known. Finally I proved that when at last my penis swelled inside of her and I began to squirt what seemed to be gallons of my liquid deep into Karen. I pulled out and she rolled over and cuddled up next to me and we kissed and held each other until we fell asleep.
Two years later I changed the train route I monitored, even with all the memories and regulars I'd known. I mean, the change of scenery was neat and a lot of the people are just as nice as my old regulars. But after graduation Karen got a job at a bank in the central district and took a different train home. And what kind of a husband to her would I be of I didn't give her a ride home from her long day at work?
This story is unaffiliated with the City Of Chicago. Hell, I don't even know if they have train monitors. So if they don't, they should. Inspired by an idea by a friend of mine, so if she says it goes, it goes.
As always, please email me with thoughts, comments, and general conversation. Comments and kudos are appreciated, criticism is accepted and acknowledged, flames are circular filed and listed in St. Peter's Book Of Divine Retribution.
-- Jeff Exilimar