Blondie's Humiliation Stories

For Age 18+ Only.
Chapter 1: Robbed on the Subway末Of Everything, Part 1
Tue Jan 8, 2019 12:59pm
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Over a period of almost six months there was a gang of seven young females (ages ranging from 19 to 24) who preyed on innocent victims on the subway. They were involved in a total of five documented cases that came to my attention during that time. Three involved men and two were women. One of cases is described in this chapter.

The culprits were eventually apprehended, which gave me the opportunity to question each of them extensively. I had already heard the accounts of their crimes from their unfortunate victims, so the details of their confessions corroborated the victims' accounts. It also gave me another perspective, which helped greatly in formulating the story below, which happens to be the first of their five reported crimes. I can tell you that they really enjoyed themselves in the process of committing their depravities. In spite of their pending fate, a couple of them were actually smiling and giggling as they described their crimes.

I have changed the name of the victim to protect his innocence.


On the day of the crime Harold Stevens was four days beyond his twenty-first birthday. He was average height, slim and didn't look a day over seventeen. High of intelligence, he had skipped two grades during his school years and had graduated from college by the age of nineteen. Amazingly, he was already a successful business man at his young age.

One early fall morning, as per usual, he waited on the crowded platform for his subway train to take him to work. At one point he noticed a group of attractive young ladies talking and collectively smiling at him. He smiled back but immediately averted his gaze, as a sense of uneasiness swept upon him. As he would soon discover, that sense of uneasiness was well-founded.

The train arrived and as Harold boarded he noticed more than the usual pushing and shoving in the very crowded car. That's because, as Harold would soon discover, that the seven smiling young ladies had surrounded him and had managed to steer him into a favorable place末favorable for them, that is. Two of the ladies had taken two recently vacated seats that faced towards the middle of the car. Harold had been jostled into a position directly facing them. The other five had formed a semi-circle around the two seats and behind the ill-fated Harold, effectively shielding him from the view of the other passengers. The leader of the group, a tall, well-dressed brunette by the name of Amanda Nelson had taken a position directly behind him. Amanda had in her possession a razor-sharp switchblade, which she held hidden in her right hand. The weapon would serve her well in her humiliation of Harold Stevens, who had no idea of the magnitude of dishonor that was about to be bestowed upon him.

Harold had appraised his situation and figured he best try to relocate, as difficult as that might be in a highly congested subway train. His efforts would prove to be fruitless, as the ladies on either side completely thwarted his movement. When he tried to turn around he felt a very sharp object pushed against his back. He then heard the husky but feminine voice from the tall lady behind him.

"If you try to get away this will go straight into your balls. Trust me, I will cut you." For emphasis, as she uttered the word "balls" she slipped her free hand between his legs and clutched his testicles through his pants, using a firm grip.

The shaken Harold stood petrified. He was defenseless and he had no reason to believe that the aggressor behind him would hesitate to use her weapon if she didn't get his compliance. Plus she had six of her friends surrounding him and he had nowhere to go.

Amanda, with one hand still holding the knife against his back, reached into Harold's back pocket and removed his wallet. There was no resistance from her victim, which satisfied Amanda that she had him under her control.

"I'm going to put my knife away," she said in his ear. "Don't give me any reason to pull it out, because if you do I will use it. Do you understand?" Harold nodded. "Good boy," replied Amanda while patting him on the spot where his wallet used to be.

She took out the $73 in cash from the wallet, along with a few credit cards and stuffed them in her pocket. She looked at the name and address on the driver's license.

"Nice to meet you, Harold," she said.

Amanda shoved the wallet back into Harold's pocket, then reached forward and fished into his front pocket, pulling out his phone. She recognized it as one of the new iPhones and held it up to Harold's face. Sure enough the facial recognition feature kicked in and the phone lit up. Amanda scanned the apps and found what she was hoping for. She tapped the PayPal icon and the Face ID request displayed. Again she reached around and held it in front of Harold's miserable expression. Amanda's eyes widened when she saw the PayPal balance figure of $66,000.

"Holy shit, Harold. You're just my little cash cow today, aren't you," she said delightedly. She tapped the Send icon and entered her email address, followed by a series of numbers. She then tapped another Send button followed by a confirmation, and her deed was done.

"I did you a big favor, Harold. I left $1000 in your account. You can thank me later." Amanda giggled to herself, then was deep in thought for a spell. Finally she came up with a plan.

"You have my contact information now, Harold. You wouldn't report that to anyone, would you?"

"N-No. No I wouldn't. I promise," he said nervously.

"I trust you, Harold," replied Amanda. "But I need to make sure." She looked Harold up and down from behind. He was wearing a dark suit. "Take off your coat."

Harold was already out over sixty-five thousand dollars plus change and probably an iPhone. It appeared now that she might be after his new three thousand dollar suit. He did not want to turn that over, especially on a crowded subway train.

"Please," he pleaded. "I'm begging you. I promise I won't pursue this."

"The only thing you'll pursue is taking off your coat. Don't make me pull out my switchblade."

"Oh, God," said Harold as he slowly peeled off his coat.

"Now hand it to the pretty girl sitting in front of you with the big shopping bag."

The pretty girl was, of course part of the band of seven. She was the youngest of the bunch, having turned nineteen during the previous month. Grinning, she reached out and pulled the coat from Harold's loose grasp. The coat then disappeared into the bottom of her shopping bag.

"That's a good boy, Harold," said Amanda. She then addressed the two young ladies in the seat. She spoke just softly enough for them to hear, but not quite loudly enough for the other passengers to hear over the clatter of the train.

"Girls, I don't think Harold will have enough room to bend down. Would you be kind enough to lean over and remove his shoes and socks for him?"

The two grinning young ladies were all too eager to participate in Harold's pending humiliation, and they had his newly-polished shoes and his socks in the shopping bag in short order.

Without missing a beat Amanda reaches around Harold with both hands and began deftly loosening his tie. Within seconds she had it completely undone, and without prompting the young girl in the seat reached up and pulled it from the confines of Harold's collar.

When Harold felt her hand fiddling with his top button he was panic-stricken, made obvious by his trembling torso and sweaty brow. "Don't be afraid, Harold," said Amanda in his ear with a soothing voice. "If you cooperate with me you will not be harmed."

Of course there is physical harm and there is psychological harm. At the moment the latter is what concerned Harold the most.

"Please," Harold begged, his voice quivering. Amanda had finished off the last button and pulled the shirt tail from his trousers. Quite conscious of Amanda's threat, he showed no physical resistance. "You can have my money. Just末please, don't do this."

"Finish taking you shirt off for me and hand it over," was her response.

"Oh, God," whimpered Harold as he unbuttoned his sleeves and pulled off his shirt. The woman in front of him dutifully pulled it from his grasp and added the garment to her growing collection. A white v-neck tee shirt remained above his belt.

"This too," ordered Amanda with a slight tug upward of the tee shirt. Harold remained motionless, momentarily unwilling末or unable末to do her bidding. Ultimately he tried appealing to Amanda one more time

"I promise....I promise on my grandmother's grave that I will keep this to myself," he implored. "Please, don't take this any further, and all is forgotten."

"You say that now, Harold, but after I'm gone I need assurance that you will keep that promise. Besides, I have to tell you that I'm rather enjoying this. Now hand over your tee shirt, and if I get any more non-cooperation from you there will be consequences."

Harold did not need to be reminded of the sharp consequences Amanda was referring to. Eliciting smiles from all seven of his aggressors, Harold pulled the tee shirt over his head and meekly handed it to the outstretched hand in front of him. Harold noticed the grins of the two seated girls grow wider as they stared at Harold's bare, hairless chest. Now blushing profusely he self-consciously crossed his arms over his chest and took a furtive look at his surroundings. It appeared to him that Amanda and her six cohorts had formed enough of a shield around him so that no one else had yet taken notice of his condition.

That minor sense of relief was no consolation for him when he felt Amanda reach around his waist and undo his belt. When she undid the clasp of his pants Harold couldn't help himself and instinctively tried to push her hands away. Amanda decided to give Harold one last pass.

"This is your last chance," she promptly said. She looked up. "Grab the safety bar above your head." Harold obediently reached up and held onto the bar with his left hand. "Both hands," Amanda commanded. He did so, and was now fully stretched out and feeling ever so vulnerable. "Don't even think about letting go until I get off the train," she said.

Amanda, who had already vocalized her enjoyment of her victim's humiliation, slowly, teasingly started pulling down the zipper of Harold's pants. She leaned her face forward and stopped when her lips were about an inch from his ear. "I need to embarrass you, Harold," she said. "Really embarrass you." The zipper was all the way down and Amanda pulled the material away from his waist, then let go. With the path downward unencumbered, much to the delight of Amanda and her cohorts the weight of the belt was enough to cause the pants to slide swiftly down his slender legs, coming to rest in a pool at his ankles.

Harold, whose glowing face nearly matched the color of his red boxer briefs, continued to hold onto the bar while writhing in mortification. "Step out of your pants now, Harold," said the giggling Amanda. Harold did so and they were immediately scooped up and stuffed in the shopping bag containing the rest of his precious clothes. "Are you quite embarrassed now, Harold?"

"Yes! Please! That's enough!" he said breathlessly, being careful to speak softly enough so as not to attract attention from the other so-far clueless passengers.

"Oh, but Harold," replied the sadistic Amanda. "You have such a cute little body. It would be a shame to stop now." As she spoke she stroked the backs of his thighs, which were sparsely populated with hair. "My friends would be deeply disappointed if they didn't get to see what you're sporting inside those briefs, big boy."

"Please! I'm begging you!" pleaded the frantic Harold.

"Besides," she teased as she slipped her hands inside the back of his waist band and gently caressed his buttocks. "Like I said, I need to really embarrass you. Can you imagine what it would be like being completely naked in public on a crowded subway?"

At that point Harold certainly could imagine that very concept, and it absolutely terrified him.

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