Down by the station, early in the morning;
See the little sexy girls all in a row...

Along the length of the platform, passengers stand waiting for the train that will take them to the daily grind. They read their newspapers and clutch cups of coffee. Today the platform is not as busy as usual, perhaps due to the industrial action that has led many to strike. Also waiting are a few dozen school kids, bunched together in small groups. I like to stand in position for the middle carriage. There's a group of year sevens from St Katherine's that I find particularly appealing. My favourite is Ricki (I've heard her friends use her name), but I'm now becoming very fond of one of the other girls. She has wavy brown shoulder length hair and a unique face; maybe it's her button nose that makes her look so cute.

The third friend in this group is not on the platform today. Ricki and her friend are sitting on the ground, drawing little or no attention from the surrounding passengers. This is surprising, given what they are doing. Ricki is sitting cross legged against the fence with her hands above her head. At first glance, it just looks like she's stretching, but I look closer. Her crossed wrists are bound together behind the fence with a pair of stockings. This fence is designed to stop people from climbing over; it's essentially a row of vertical posts. Ricki's hands are not tied to anything, but because they are behind the post, she can't lower her arms. If she were to relax and let her arms fall backwards, it would put too much pressure on her shoulders, so she must exert some energy to keep comfortable. She can't even grab the post and hold on, as her fingers have been taped into a fist with gaffer tape.

I run my eyes down her body and imagine her skin under the light summer school dress which goes down to her knees. Just below its hem, I see that her crossed legs are also bound, this time loosely tied with a knee-high sock.

What makes it really remarkable that no one appears to be paying any attention to these girls, is what they are doing. Ricki has a vague look on her face and appears to be concentrating on something. I quickly see that it is pleasure causing the look. Her young friend has reached under her blue check school dress and I can see her hand moving around under the material. I imagine her rubbing Ricki's genitals through the pink boxer shorts I have seen her wear, presumably to stop people from seeing her underwear. (Gotta love the short length of these dresses.)

I try to appear disinterested and turn away slightly, still watching them out of the corner of my eye. Ricki's friend is working a little faster now. I imagine her pulling aside the bound girl's panties and slipping a finger into her moist, warm vagina.

Ricki's breathing is becoming ragged and under her breath she mutters "Sophie... oh... mmm". The girl who I assume is named Sophie places the index finger of her free hand on Ricki's lips; an unspoken command, reminding her that she must be silent. She then moves Ricki's dress up so that it is gathered around her waist. No boxer shorts! Today she wears only simple cotton panties; white, with a mauve and green floral print. Why has Sophie exposed her friend like this? Easier access? I wonder if she has realised that I am watching out of the corner of my eye and has decided to put on a show.

Regardless of the reason, Sophie continues the stimulation of her friend, rubbing her thumb up and down over the material. A damp patch is visible; combined with the look on Ricki's face, I can see that this young girl is well on her way to orgasm. Above her head, her arms are flailing around and her bound hands are banging the fence post behind her. It appears she is trying to lift her hips from the ground so that she can thrust herself up to meet Sophie's probing thumb. But since her ankles are bound and she can't grab hold of the fence, she has no way to raise herself and simply wriggles around in frustration.

"Oh please... oh... now... oh please... hmphh," she pleads under her breath. Sophie takes this as a signal that Ricki is about to come and she removes her hand completely. Ricki rolls her head around and is clearly disappointed that her friend has denied her the greatest of pleasures.

I had almost forgotten where I was. An announcement brings me back to reality. "The next train to depart from platform one, will be the 8:01 city train, departing in two minutes." Amazingly, the other passengers still appear to be totally oblivious to the ministrations of two year sevens sitting against the fence.

Sophie hasn't totally abandoned her bound schoolmate. She has retrieved a small pair of scissors from her backpack and reached over to Ricki's left hip. She cuts her underwear from the waistband to the leg and does the same on the right hand side. The now loose front flap falls to the ground, revealing her vulva, it glistens from the small beads of her own lubrication. Being twelve, it is not surprising that she has some pubic hair, although I'm pleased to see that it is still very sparse. Presumably, she has only just entered puberty.

Sophie wastes no time in returning to the task at hand, She starts working two fingers around the moist genitalia of her captive, who responds instantly and again seems to be on the brink of a climax. This time, Sophie doesn't let her down. She lightly pinches her engorged clitoris, rubs it briefly, then slips both fingers into her vagina, moving in, out and around. Watching Ricki screw up her face with desperate concentration, she moves her fingers back to her clit and rubs quickly and firmly. The orgasm hits Ricki hard; she bites her lip in an effort to stay quiet. Still, I can hear her moaning and whimpering in pleasure as her bondage lover pushes her even higher.

The sound of a whistle signals the approach of the train. It looks like they had forgotten where they where, and Sophie quickly snaps back to reality, scuttling to untie her friend. The sock is easily removed from Ricki's ankles, but the stocking around her wrist proves more difficult. It must have tightened while she was desperately beating her hands against the fence. While her friend works at the knot, Ricki whispers with a satisfied grin "that was incredible; your turn tomorrow!". Finally she is freed and they both collect their bags and jump into the carriage with seconds to spare before the doors close. Before the train departs, I see Sophie hold her fingers up to Ricki's nose, offering her a whiff of the intoxicating results of the drawn out sexual pleasure she had just experienced.

Now, I would normally board this train and find a seat facing these delectable young beauties. I would then position my backpack on my lap in such a way that I could surreptitiously rub it against my penis, while I watch them through my mirror-surfaced sunglasses. Given the right circumstances, I can make myself come before the train reaches their stop and (hopefully) without anyone knowing.

Today, however, something stopped me. In her rush to get to the train, Ricki must have forgotten about her underwear. The cut piece of white cotton material fell from her nubile body as she stood up, and is now lying on the ground. As the train heads out of sight, I quickly grab the panties and retreat to the toilets. Not the best setting, but the graffiti clad cubicle gives me some privacy and I examine my treasure. They are quite damp, particularly around the crotch area.

Even before I bring them to by nose, I can smell the delightful odour of pre-teen sex. Holding them closer, I inhale deeply and my senses are almost overwhelmed, as I recall what caused the smell in the first place.

Erect and desperately in need of release, I reach into my bag and get some more underwear; a pair I snared from my niece's room while visiting my older brother. To avoid a mess, I prefer to masturbate into clothes that remind me of the girls I desire. It doesn't take long before the thought of my niece being tied and teased like Ricki was brings me close to orgasm. I imagine being the one to control whether she comes, and when. Finally, I visualise inserting a small vibrator into her vagina and letting her wriggle around without direct clitoral stimulation, until the vibrations tip her over the edge. This, along with the smell of my newly acquired souvenir, helps me reach my own climax.

After packing up, I return to the platform. That's when I see her. One of the most fuckable girls I have seen for a while. "I should miss the 8:01 more often!" The young beauty, wearing her long red hair in a simple plait, looks to be about eleven. Unlike the secondary school girls I watched earlier, this girl is still in primary school and is wearing her sports uniform; a yellow polo top and navy blue shorts. She wears white sneakers with ankle socks, showing off her thin, pale white legs.

The next train approaches and I wonder if I am up for another orgasm so soon after the last. As the new object of my desire takes a seat, dumps her bag on the ground and rests her hand between her parted legs, I think "looks like I haven't missed out on my on-board masturbation fun after all"...