The Pink Express : The Satin Feel - 2

       30-year-old Ankush, always took the last Metro home. The route was such that, all the seats will always be filled. So even if he found a seat, that said only for ladies empty, he would occupy it and even if a woman passenger would request him to vacate the seat, he would always refuse. He would say that I haven’t ever seen any woman vacating a seat for a man in need of it. All the fellow passengers would look at him in disgust, but it did not have any impact on Ankush ever. Ankush always boarded the cabin next to the ladies. Even when his routine fellow female passengers requested him, Ankush would take his eyes away. This was happening quite regularly. So the women decided to teach him a lesson. The next day, when Ankush boarded the same Metro from the same station, there was a group of women waiting for him in the metro. The moment Ankush was about to get down at the last station, he realized that the doors had not opened at all. Thinking that there might be a fault in the line he kept waiting for the doors to open. But soon he found that the women who were there in the ladies' cable were now standing behind him. Confused, he turned around and just smiled. But his expression suddenly changed to worry, when he saw that the women were giving him an evil grin. Soon he was dragged to one of the seats that said: “only for ladies”. 



Ankush tried to escape, but realized the doors were still closed. His eyes were full of lots of questions. So one of the women spoke up. “You have had your sweet time, darling. Now it’s our turn.” One by one, all of the women took out something or the other, from their bags. Someone took out a lipstick, while someone took out a vial of nail paint. One woman took out her scarf and another took off a few glass bangles from her hand. One woman took out a packet of bindis, while another took out a headband. Now one woman transferred the contents of her purse into her backpack, and gave Ankush her empty purse to keep his new presents. The same woman now spoke up again. “Tomorrow, you will board this Metro from the same station and you are expected to have used each and every item in your new purse when you enter. In case you don’t show up, the cops will definitely show up at your door very next morning. And don’t worry about the charges, they will be many to put you behind bars for a long time. For example, breaking the Metro rules, abusing fellow female passengers, occupying the seat reserved for females, attempting molestation, and ill behaviour. But since you like the female seat so much, we will make sure that you are sent to the female prison only. And since it will be all of us women filing charges against you, rest assured that the judge on the case will also be a woman. So either you can accept your punishment with a smile or you can go home and prepare for the trial.” Ankush was stunned to hear all of this and he did not move an inch. “One more thing. You will enter the station through the female frisking gate. And don’t worry, we will have the female frisking cops informed. Now go home and come back tomorrow like a good girl.” The moment the woman completed her sentence, the doors of the Metro opened.

          Next evening, Ankush entered the station in his usual get-up, thinking that everything was over with the night. He made his way to the platform through the frisking gate for men. But the moment he boarded the train, he realised that he was in for a trouble. The women looked angry and as soon as the metro reached Ankush’s stop (last on the route), he saw that the only passengers left in the train were women and that the doors had yet again not opened. The women just gathered around Ankush. Without saying a word, two of them held his hands tightly and the rest got down to work on feminizing him. They made him sit back in one of the seats reserved for women. By the time they were done with him, Ankush was wearing a pink satin shirt dress, that barely reached his mid thighs. The dress was paired with black fishnet stockings and satin pink pumps. In his right hand, was a fake pink pearl bracelet matching with his pearl necklace that was adorning his neck and clip-on pearl earrings. His left wrist was loaded with pink glass bangles. He was now also wearing a wig, that was shaped in bob cut. The wig was decorated with a pink knot bow satin headband. His face was fully made-up. Smokey eyes with long strokes of liner, luscious pink lips, and cheeks beaming pink like a new bride. The moment they were done, the doors opened to his surprise. And as he was about to leave, the same woman spoke. “Now we expect to see you tomorrow evening, in the same outfit at the same time. A light make-up would do. We will take care of the rest. And this time, you disappoint us, remember you will also be charged for posing as a girl just to enter the women’s cabin. Also, you will be spending at least 7 years of your life in female prison as a female and by the time you are out, rest assured when I say that you won’t be willing to go back to being a male again. Be my good girl, go home and come back tomorrow as suggested.”

          Next evening, Ankush climbed the stairs of the station and went straight to the loo. When he came out, he was wearing the same outfit as last evening, along with the wig, the other accessories and some decent attempt of make-up too. He dragged his feet towards the frisking gate for women and was several times pushed aside by other women in line. When finally, his turn came, he was encountered by a tall and strong female cop inside the cubicle. She frisked Ankush from head to toe, but her touch was of a man, trying to molest a woman. Her hands grabbed and pressed him everywhere possible. She even made him bend on a table, pulled the hem of his dress to ensure he was wearing the panties. She grabbed the flesh on his butts, then rubbed her palm vigorously and slapped before allowing Ankush to straighten up. She then ordered him to take off the dress. He complied. She asked him to take off the bra as well and when he did, she handed him a new one. The moment he wore it and she clasped the hooks behind him, Ankush knew why that was done. It was a size smaller and which is why its straps kept digging into his skin causing his shoulders to pain. She gestured him to put the dress back on. Ankush followed her orders and as soon as he was ready, she pushed him inside towards the platform. The train arrived. The doors opened. And he saw the women smiling as well as laughing. He looked around and all women again. One of them got up and offered her seat to Ankush. The moment he sat, she teased. “And you said we women don’t offer our seat to those in need.” Everyone laughed at this. Then they redid his make-up and asked him to do some pole dance for all the women. Soon, everyone of them had videos of Ankush, twerking and wrapping around the pole, on their phones. Lots of pictures were taken too, with Ankush kissing the pole, bending and revealing his panties, opening a few buttons of his shirt dress, to show-off his lacy bra clad cleavage. He was then handed another packet that read “for tomorrow”. He opened and his jaw dropped to the floor. It was a saree inside. A purple-colored heavily embroidered bridal chiffon saree, with a golden satin deep neck and deep back blouse. There was also a pair of golden sandals, jewelry, and make-up to go with. Before the doors opened at his stop, one by one every woman hugged him goodbye, while touching him everywhere just like that female cop. As he was leaving, one of the women shouted. “Don’t forget your bra. I repeat, don’t forget your bra. Or we will give you two reasons to wear one for the rest of your life.”

          Ankush entered the female frisking zone the next evening, only to find the same woman who gave him the saree, waiting to frisk him up. She dropped his pallu from his shoulders and Ankush closed his eyes.

© Christi James


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