Chasing the Train by Erotikinks
Embark on an exhilarating journey with ‘Chasing the Train’ by Erotikinks, where passion and desire collide in an unexpected encounter. Dive into a world of steamy encounters and thrilling surprises that will leave you breathless. Discover the ultimate escape and ignite your fantasies!
Leah’s friends convince her that the latest viral trend is to get raped.
This story is copyright of Tori Hamlin and erotikinks. For more stories and ebooks, visit erotikinks.com. All characters portrayed are 18+. These stories are fantasy, not instructions. Please practice safe, positive, enthusiastic consent.
Leah’s friends were not actually friends. In fact, they considered eighteen-year-old Leah to be kind of a cunt. What her friends liked about Leah was that she drove a nice car and was often generous with spending her daddy’s money on matching outfits, makeup, and other useless baubles.
Leah was the kind of girl that liked to chase the latest trends. She wore the newest styles, had her hair done in the latest celebrity fashion, and participated in all the viral social media nonsense. These things were like validation for Leah, who was actually quite an airhead and otherwise performed little in the way of any helpful service to the rest of humanity.
Things came to a head when, during the TikTok trend “Go Big or Go Home,” Leah made an appointment for Maximizer injections and increased her tit size to that of a cock-crazed bimbo. Leah’s friends could not afford a procedure like this and were also jealous of Leah’s new, large, fake tits. Leah’s new udders took most of the attention away from them when they went out, and her new bimbo jugs had boys slobbering on themselves to ask her out or lavish her with unnecessary gifts. It was at this point that they informed Leah of the latest trend, one that they were already participating in and far outpacing Leah in.
Candice and Melanie sat around the lunch table the three of them shared, Candice’s phone muted and a video playing, when Leah took her seat. The two of them cooed and giggled.
“What are you watching?” Leah asked.
“Oh, Candice got raped yesterday,” Melanie said.
“Twice,” Candice added. “The second one was too busy raping me to take a video. I’m just lucky the first time there were two of them.”
“Oh my God!” Leah exclaimed. “Are you alright?”
“Uh, yeah,” Candice said. “It was, like, the hottest thing ever!”
“Yeah,” Melanie chimed in. “Everyone’s doing it. I mean, it’s, like, the highest compliment a guy can pay you. If you’re so hot that he can’t even be bothered to ask if you want it, that’s like… super-hot!”
Leah looked at the two of them in utter shock, unaware that the video had actually been made by Candice’s boyfriend and his friend.
“That’s horrible,” Leah said. “Are you serious?”
Melanie nodded and added, “I hope I can get raped tonight.”
“Try the back alleys down on 7th Street. That’s where I got raped the second time. The first was by two of Chet’s friends,” Candice explained.
“Your boyfriend’s friends raped you?” Leah exclaimed.
“Yeah. Chet said they could,” Candice said.
“That’s sick! Why would he do that?” Leah asked.
Candice just shrugged and said, “I guess they think I’m hot.”
Leah was quiet through the rest of lunch, listening to her friends talk about getting raped, and how much they couldn’t wait to have it happen again.
***
The following day, Candice and Melanie were again watching videos of themselves being held down and fucked against their will. These were further fabrications, but they continued to make Leah wonder if this was, in fact, a trend she needed to be in on.
“Look at him go,” Candice said. “Isn’t a good raping just the best?”
On Melanie’s screen, a masked man had her shoved against the wall as she struggled and cried, forcing his cock into her and mashing her tits against the brick wall.
“Really scary,” Melanie said, “but I’m up to two now. You?”
“Four,” Candice said.
“Did you get raped?” Melanie asked Leah.
“No!” Leah spat.
The two of them shrugged and continued to watch the video.
***
The following day, Candice proclaimed that she’d been raped six times now, while Leah boasted that she was up to four. When Leah admitted that she, still, had not made any effort to get raped, the two of them laughed at her and she blushed.
“I figured you would have put those melons to work by now and outdone us both,” Candice said.
“Hey, do you want to go over to Karen’s tonight?” Melanie asked Candice. “I hear she’d up to twelve rapings. Maybe she has some tips.”
“Hell yeah,” Candice agreed. “Sorry Leah, she probably won’t let you come, since you’re not on the Rape Train.”
“The Rape Train?” Leah asked.
“Yeah. We’re all riding it. Except you, I guess,” Melanie said.
Leah picked at her food for the rest of lunch, sitting alone, as her two friends joined Karen and another group of girls. She listened to them jabber on excitedly about their rapings, feeling like a loser.
***
Leah felt certain that she did not want to be raped, but she also did not want to be a loser and an outcast. That night, after school, she drove down to 7th Street and, nervously, stepped out of her car. With her heart pounding, she walked down one alley and then another, but the only accostment she received was a panhandler asking for money. She lost her nerve and ran back to the car.
At school the next day, she sat alone again as the other girls laughed and talked, cracking jokes about all the unraped losers. After lunch, she found Candice and Melanie.
“Hey, Leah,” Candice said. “Did you board the Rape Train?”
Leah shook her head and said, “I tried but… I couldn’t do it.”
Melanie took in Leah’s clothes, which were cute, but not that provocative and said, “Well, you don’t exactly scream rape bait. Your new tits look great, but you’re not showing them off enough to entice men to want to overpower you.”
Candice agreed, adding, “Yeah. If you want to stop over after school, we can show you how to dress right.”
“Really?” Leah asked, frightened and relieved.
“Sure. Just meet me at my house after school.”
***
When school ended, Leah drove over to Candice’s home, where her friends took her upstairs.
“If you want to get on the train, you need to actually look like you’re inviting unwanted attention,” Candice said. “Here, put this on. I just got it and haven’t had a chance to wear it yet.”
She handed Leah a shirt, which read, “Fuck Handles,” across the front. Leah held it up, horrified.
“I can’t wear this!” she protested.
“You mean you don’t want to wear it,” Melanie corrected. “If you aren’t advertising yourself as a sex object, how do you expect people to know that you’re a good rape victim?”
“Nobody is making you do this, Leah,” Candice said, rolling her eyes. “If you don’t want to get on the train, and you don’t want help, you can leave. I never expected you to be such a sissy. It’s disappointing.”
Leah blushed, feeling like a loser. She dithered, but finally pulled her shirt over her head.
“Bra, too,” Melanie said. “What kind of rape bait wears a bra?”
Leah took off the bra, baring her big, slutty udders. She tugged the top over her head, struggling to fit it over her large melons. After some work, she managed to get it on. The shirt was grotesque, stretching lewdly over her tits, calling attention to her cleavage, and showing off so much underboob that nearly felt topless.