I originally thought of this as a premise for a short story series involving a political 'cu' where train stations all across the east coast are taken over by a revolutionary group. There is the threat of bombs in every station, and all of the hundreds of thousands of people are held hostage until such a moment when all government buildings are vacated, and then frequented with the revolution's new officials. Ltt me know how y'all like the concept/writing.
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It was just another, uninteresting, and unnumbered day. I was riding the subway to work, sipping my morning oil-like-black coffee, and reading the morning journal's business new section. I wasn't paying attention the figures though, as I seemed to scan over the nasdaq, Boeing, bank of Ireland, Lockheed martin- no my real attention was on a few suspicious looking men and women frequenting the compartment. Cheap round slowing (could not say they were "bullet-proof") vests sat subtly beneath their otherwise regular attire. No need to raise the alarm now, I thought; it was inevitably going to happen.
A deep voice crackled over the loudspeaker, "This train has been taken over by a group which does not intend to harm any of you. However," there was a pause, and a barely audible sigh, "there is a bomb on this train. If you do not do exactly as I say, the detonator will be activated." Some women began to sob lightly into their hands. I knew what would come next somehow. I could do little without notice from others, but I slipped my sharp apartment key into my pant waistline, against my spine. "The men and women wearing light armor will be passing a roll of tape, and two zip-ties to every other one of you. Use them to tie and gag the person setting next to you. If any of my comrades feel you are unfit to secure you neighbor well enough, you will also be secured and silenced."
A young, skinny woman with glasses, likely a secretary fresh out of college sat next to me shivering. We looked at each other, in an effort for comfort in such a hapless situation. I moved my glance to the masked woman standing front of me. She said, "take it, you seem like you'd know how to keep this slut quiet!" With that she handed, (kinda pushed into my hands) a big roll of silver duct tape, a hander kerchief, and the two issued zip-ties. Before passing the two of us, she ripped open the poor little woman's dress shirt, exposing her push-up bra, and large, reserved bust. I felt like I identified with the cruel woman at that moment. It was strange, I was ready to do the bidding of this unknown authority, and possibly enjoy it.
My empathy for the abused young secretary wasn't non-existent though. I looked into her eyes once again, trying to comfort her silently, while cable-tying her wrists and ankles. My sadism-identifications though, were expressed, as I popped the cloth into the girl's mouth mid-sentence, "ple-please, can you protect me, can I tru-smmmeppmmph!"
I shushed her, and whispered, "I promise you that I will do everything possible, but now I must seem altogether abusive towards you, I must appear to enjoy doing this to you. Do you understand?" As I smoothed a large strip across her lips, she nodded hesitantly, and nervously mmphed lightly into her gag. I finished up with another two large strips, one from her chin to her mouth, and the other all across her entire upper lip, leaving her nostrils almost touching the tape.
I then man-handled her a little, taunting her with my hand holding her tapped chin, pretending to tighten her wrist ties. Just then one of the men working for the terrorists, or freedom-fighters, or revolutionaries- whatever they preferred to call themselves, approached me, handed me another roll of tape, and spoke agreeably, "I think you've earned this, haha, your gonna need it soon."
Just then the train pulled into the station, and the voice early heard on the loudspeaker enunciated, "Final stop, tiers, get out, we got some more work for you. "Tyees" , you just stay where your at, because well, hahahaha, you can't do much else."
The bound and gagged train passengers didn't seem to share his sense of humor, many grumbled loudly into their gags.
The train doors withdrew, and I stepped into quite a scene, members of the rebel group had already sealed off this tunnel, hundreds of business men, shop girls, and families lay face down against the pavement, ready to be tied I thought, now unsure of weather I was pretending to have sympathies for the terrorist group, or if I was actually trying to join their ranks.