It was my first visit to Japan. I was excited and relieved to be assisted by my employers in finding a suitable hotel and transport to my various meetings. I had a hotel in the centre of town around five minutes drive from the main train station. From here the bullet trains made their almost silent ascent to Sapporo, Osaka, and other destinations.

A guide from the embassy was on hand to assist with English translation for my meetings. I had very little Japanese in my armour and what I did have was often poorly delivered. I decided to let the consul speak for me.

Being a woman was also a slight disadvantage in the meeting scenarios. Grey hair and male genitals were what gave respect in the boardroom here. So I was extremely respectful, bowed to everyone older than me, and was not my usual vocal self in these meetings, in order to fit the local custom.

It was hard to read the reactions but as my visits were mainly fact-finding, I found my hosts very warm and generous. In fact, everyone I met in a business surrounding was more than courteous. I just wasn’t sure they found what I had to say very interesting.

I had many days free and used these to wander around the city, taking in sashimi and sushi bars, trying out various other local foods and visiting temples and the famous zebra crossings!

A beautiful, if extremely busy city.

I called home and spoke to family and friends and an older friend of mine brought something rather unusual to my attention.

“How have you found travelling on the trains?” he asked.

“They’re crazy busy and it’s hard to make out the signs in English, so I figure out how many stops and take my chance that way. No problems so far, fortunately,” I replied.

“Watch out for the train gropers, they’re well known for it,” my friend Christian advised.

“Oh, they’re very well-behaved and well-mannered people over here. I can’t imagine being groped on a train by these guys, Christian,” I responded, somewhat surprised at his suggestion.

“Honestly, it’s “a thing” trust me,” he insisted, “There is a famous line where it’s rife, I’ll find out the name for you. Men grope women and expose themselves. The women are too scared to speak out and it’s not in their culture to embarrass someone in public, so they tend to just let them do it and hope it doesn’t go too far. When they report it to the police, they don’t do anything either, so it’s kind of accepted. Just watch out. Although knowing you, you’ll probably enjoy it,” he half-joked, but also warned me.

“I’ve never heard of that, you’re making it up. Anyway, I’ll be careful,” I replied, closing the conversation.

“Well, be very careful. Google it, they call it Chikan. See you when you get home and enjoy your trip.”

Christian hung up and we ended our call.

I finished some work and started to unwind. I took a shower and lay in bed with my underwear on. I went online and played a little on lush.

I got a little horny and decided to Google that word. I struggled to find it then remembered it. “Chikan.”

To my surprise, it certainly was “a thing.”

And Christian was right about it being almost accepted, or certainly, people were putting up with it. I was surprised, a little intrigued.

I did some more research. The police were certainly trying to clamp down on it, but the culture of the people meant it was a difficult thing to eradicate. There were warning signs in the stations and single women were discouraged from using certain train lines and to travel at certain times where and when it was known to be rife. There was a whole genre of pornography dedicated to it, I found countless videos on pornhub when I searched the term. It was quite erotic.

I woke up on Thursday morning with a free day ahead of me and feeling quite horny. A couple of hours on lush and I found myself exposing myself in a private room. I had cum explosively from the exposure and was now feeling like pushing my boundaries.

I dressed in a black skirt and white blouse. I wore a light blazer over my blouse as it was quite warm. I dispensed with underwear.

I made my way to the train station and bought a ticket and decided to ride the famous bullet train.

I boarded a train with the intention of making a central stop, walking around, eating lunch, and having a glass of wine for courage before getting a train back to central Tokyo. My trip here had been event free.

Emboldened by the wine, I boarded an afternoon train which was very busy. Lots of men were crowded at one end of the train. I made my way down to that end and with all seats taken, I stood holding on to a rail. I placed my back to five or six guys all wearing suits and looking fairly innocent. Another woman was also in the carriage but she was seated. Otherwise, it was all men. I did feel a little vulnerable.

As the train moved swiftly through the stations it got busier and I felt the odd body move against me, but nothing that wasn’t due to the movement of the train as I could detect. The lady sitting in front of me was looking at me with a concerned look on her face. She was young, around twenty-two to twenty-four maybe, and was grabbing her bag ready to alight at the next station. As the train slowed to a stop she stood and walked past me, saying something in Japanese, unfortunately, I couldn’t understand her. She looked at me as she walked past the window in the train platform, she smiled and I smiled back. It was a little strange.

The train started again and the movements against me also continued. This time a little more frequently and I heard voices behind me. It seemed many of the men were talking to each other now, this didn’t seem to be happening before.

The train slowed to the next station and some people got off. It meant there were some seats, so I decided to sit down. As the train left I could see two men staring at me, they were also looking down at my top. My blazer was undone and my white blouse was slightly see-through, my nipples were visible and I think they were both looking at them. I did my blazer up and tried to remove myself from their attentions. One seemed to be moving closer to me and it was clear that he was placing his groin area next to me. It also looked like he had an erection, or there was certainly one forming!

More people got off and now there were only about five people left at this end of the carriage. I had two more stops before mine and I expected the train to get busier rather than quieter, but it was still before rush hour.

Then it happened.

The man I previously mentioned rubbed his groin against my arm. It was clear.

I looked up at him and he was staring at me. He did it again.

Another man standing close to him then stood in front of me and started looking at me.

I got up to walk down the carriage but they both blocked my way and turned their backs to me. I said “excuse me,” but they ignored me.

As I looked around the train, people simply looked away.

“Well, Beth,” I said to myself. “Are you here to do this or not?”

I sat back down and the two men turned back around. The groin rubbing on my arm happened again and the staring from the other man down my top also started.

Very slowly the first man’s arm started to rub my shoulder. It actually felt quite nice.

I looked ahead and ignored them but made no attempt to stop them.

The second man boldly lifted my blazer to look down, he held it open and showed the other man who continued to rub my shoulder.

The next stop came and as it approached they stopped and turned away from me.

A couple more men got on but sat away from us.

The train pulled away and the rubbing continued. The other man was no longer man-handling my blazer but was staring at me up and down.

Without looking at either of them, I casually undid my blazer and slowly opened it. My braless blouse was now in full view of both of them, and they were clearly looking down at it.

However, at the next stop, they both got off. So much for my bravery.

That night I researched this term “chikan” again, to find out a little more.

The station where it was a problem was called Saitama on the Saikyo line.

I decided to pay it a visit late morning the next day and see what was going on.

I decided to dress for the occasion. Thigh-length office-style navy blue skirt with a white thin cotton jumper. It seemed to be ideal for the business look. Again I never wore a bra or panties, but the white jumper was both tight and see-through. My breasts were very visible.

I caught the train as the rush hour ended. Arriving on to the Saikyo line around ten thirty am. Although it was quiet there were men in all the carriages. The area definitely seemed a little more run down.

I followed the line all the way to Saitama. A couple of stops before the station it was noticeable how many more men were on the train.

I strayed down to the seedier-looking bottom carriage of the train where at least twelve men sat. I removed my jacket and stood amongst them all. My skirt shaped against my thighs and bottom, my jumper hiding nothing beneath it. Suddenly two or three men stood and hovered around me.

What happened next made me realise how all of this was happening. I went through a series of five or six tunnels. Each tunnel a few minutes in length. The next tunnel was never far away so there wasn’t much time to regain sight before you were in a tunnel again.

In the first tunnel, my ass was squeezed and so were my breasts. As I came out everyone was minding their own business. These guys were groping pros!

In the next tunnel, I lifted my skirt. A hand soon appeared and without much teasing, a finger was pushed inside me. I gasped and pushed away from it instinctively, but it was relentless and I was being fingered quite quickly in no time.

My breasts were fondled and my hands were being moved on to two different cocks. It was difficult to feel safe or erotic with this lack of control from the tunnels.

As we came out of the fifth or sixth one, I was pushed down to my knees. Without giving any resistance I let an elderly Japanese men force his fat cock into my mouth.

I started to suck it, it actually felt lovely.

As I tried to get my hands around it and reach to touch his balls another cock pushed into my mouth. I let them do their thing and felt two cocks slipping in and out of my mouth as I gently sucked them both. I looked up and a woman looked at me in disgust from one of the table seat. I ignored her and carried on sucking these two cocks as more hands worked their way into my skirt and over my pussy and breasts.

Two hands grabbed my head and my mouth was being forced on to one of the cocks. My head was moving fast as his cock was being shoved into my throat. In and out at speed.

It then started to slow and a familiar feeling of warm cum covered my tongue and filled my mouth. I enjoyed the slower pace and sucked and swallowed the cum down, delighted at being able to enjoy the moment.

Another pair of hands then grabbed my head and a new cock forced its way into my mouth. A similar pattern again resulting in a slowing just before a release of cum filled my mouth and throat.

The finger that was inside me had clearly been replaced by a cock. And this was now thrusting quickly in and out of me. The sensation was making me horny and welcoming these occasional cum releases into my mouth. The fucking slowed and I was met with a warm discharge running down my thigh as the stranger had emptied his cum inside me.

“Fuck, he wasn’t using a condom,” I thought to myself, I hadn’t even seen what he looked like!

I was fucked twice more and received another cum load into my mouth before the train left Saitama and made its way back to central Tokyo.

I straightened up and smiled at the miserable woman who had given me a filthy look as I enjoyed my abuse.

I’m guessing she had suffered a similar fate at some point. I just happened to have enjoyed mine.