Primary: I’m weak
I vaguely remember it was that spring in the second semester of the third grade, I still rode the bus home, the only difference was that when I got off the bus, I found a short man with his hand firmly clasped in my pussy, his fingers almost poking through my pants. And I had been giggling with my classmates moments before, feeling nothing. Popped out of the car and didn’t seem sad, depressed or bothered at the time, just puzzled… what was this man doing? Why touch me? Not very happy, seems not good.
Thinking about it, I was already 145 tall and my breasts were already developing, full buds. As far back as I can remember, a man’s hand had to be on my breasts, even though it was winter and I was wearing a faux-fur coat. The car was so crowded that I hated the annoying feeling of suffocation. I hate the memory of that man’s hand.
Another time, coincidentally, I saw a group of boys getting on the bus, and one of them, who seemed to be in the same kindergarten as me, actually squeezed in front of me and faced me, apparently having forgotten about me. To my surprise, he put his fingers between my legs. I felt it even though it was through thick cotton pants. I tried to get rid of his hand, but he blocked my retreat with his leg. Even as he was groping me, he was talking loudly to his buddies. I kept my head down, feeling more angry humiliated and helpless than ever. The boy even grabbed my bottom hard before getting off ……
I have a deeper memory of a middle-aged man in his forties, which I thought was my grandfather when I was a child. The “old man” always put his hand on my hand to hold the handrail, and I dodged and dodged, but still could not escape. Finally, I went to the door of the car, grabbed the vertical handrail, but was still pressed by a nasty hand. I angrily searched for the owner of this hand, and sure enough, it was that dead old man. He was wearing a Chinese mountain suit, wearing glasses, courteous, very gentlemanly. After getting off the bus, I put all my strength and breath into spitting a mouthful of phlegm. Of course, I’m not spitting, but spit in his body, feel much more balanced, happy mood a little. That old man had a great influence on my life.
First, I realized the hypocrisy of men;
Second, I finally realized that you can’t hide from bus perverts because you can’t hide from them;
Thirdly, I finally realized that: if people don’t offend me, I won’t offend them; if people offend me, I will offend them!
Middle School: I Resist
At this point, my attitude towards bus perverts has completely transformed from suspicion to hatred. Spitting, stomping hard, and kicking backward were things I did on a regular basis.
There aren’t really many that I remember, just one white pants that has stayed somewhere in my memory. That time I felt someone pressing against my ass, and I scooted forward and
He was still pressed up against me, and I glanced down to see where his feet were heeding a kick, but was surprised to find those white pants, snowy and white, clinging to my behind.
So I kicked the white pants as hard as I could with the bottom of my dirty shoe. Immediately, the white pants disappeared. I was really proud of myself, imagining the shoe prints on the white pants and his unlucky dead look, very happy, AQ in general.
In my second year of junior high, I was already 162 tall, and it was as if my guts were getting bigger. But what’s more important is that none of the bus perverts that I spat on, kicked, or even cursed at ever came back at me, the
Why are these men afraid of me? Because they are weak-minded, and this has fueled my arrogance, and even developed a habit – in the bus as if someone accidentally touched me, I will move, if the pervert followed me, repeat the above action, I will turn my head, dead stare at him – like Sakuragi Hanamichi “kill you with your eyes”, and when I am not in a good mood, I have to add a vicious sentence: “You want to die, you motherfucker! Like Sakuragi Hanamichi’s “kill you with my eyes”, and when I’m in a bad mood, I’ll add “You want to die, you fucking asshole? I’ll give you a ride!” This is a tried-and-true threat, and the pervert often abandons me in search of another target.
When I was nearing the end of middle school, I no longer had any hatred for bus perverts, I had nothing but disdain. Why would a man want to have fun here?
Because he was not capable of earning big money, not capable of looking for a lady, looking for a little honey (at that time it was not yet popular to have a second wife); because he was not capable of becoming a big hooligan, he could only play a small hooligan in the bus; because he was timid, or else why was he scolded by me, and then he ran away in ashes; at that time, I even suspected that all of these people were afraid of their wives, or couldn’t find a daughter-in-law of the commission of the trivial man… …
High school: I’m silent, I explode
In high school, it would be more apt to say that I saw bus perverts rather than encountered them.
After a few years of honing my skills, I have learned to protect myself. Riding the bus at least 2 times a day is when I am most mentally focused, and when I get on the bus I spend the shortest amount of time observing the gender, age, orientation, and eyes of the people around me to find what I think is the safest place to stand. Living this way has improved my ability to read people’s eyes and caused me to feel distrustful and insecure about men to this day.
Many times are very strange – the wolf with a “gun” against the MM’s buttocks, from my car on that, I have been squinting, that MM is not moving, and even the car is very few people, she still does not move place, let it harassment. I would guess that she must be too tired to work today, do not love and the wolf in general; sometimes feel sorry for her, think she should be the same as me to scold the wolf; in short, is not quite understand.
There was another time that shouldn’t be considered harassment, it was an accident. When getting off the bus, people tend to crowd the door area, and I did too. Suddenly I felt a student about my height standing behind me, and I could feel his dick moving against my soft ass, and I made a bad attempt to deliberately put my ass groove against his dick.
Surprisingly, there came a violent twitching …… door opened, and I got out of the car. It feels like the air is so fresh, the original revenge can give people such a strong pleasure. Today, years later, I think it should be considered that I harassed someone else.
Oh, and to go off on a tangent, let’s do “bus stop exhibitionism.”
It always gets dark early in the north, around 7:00 p.m., there is only a touch of orange in the sky, and the dim streetlights stand by the station sign. Across the road came a man in a trench coat,continue ……
It always gets dark early in the north, around 7:00 p.m., there is only a touch of orange in the sky, and the dim streetlights stand by the station sign. Across the street came a man in a trench coat.
He came straight to me, and I looked straight at him (actually I could only see the trench coat, because my eyes had gone from 1.5 to 0.6 and I couldn’t see anything in the poor light).
Getting very close, I could finally see that underneath the trench coat was flesh colored and wearing nothing. Suddenly I had a huge curiosity about grown men’s dicks and wanted to take a closer look at what kind.
But all I could see was a black lump (it would have been nice to have had a flashlight with me at the time – hilarious to say the least), and still I didn’t get a good look. The trench coat man stood in front of me, as if there was a trace of disappointment on his face, at that time I think my expression was very calm, my heart was just curious, there was not a bit of panic and shock let alone screaming. Trench coat man bypassed me, continue to walk forward, I followed him with curiosity for a dozen steps, he suddenly stood still …… I snapped to feel that I am a seventeen or eighteen-year-old girl following a naked man with a trench coat is really ungainly, and so returned to the station sign next to the bus stop, and continue to wait for the bus.
To return to the topic at hand, that encounter a month or so before my senior year is something I will never forget. Not forgotten not because of hatred, but because it was the end.
Dozens of days before the college entrance examination, the spirit of special tension, every day carrying dozens of pounds of schoolbags, do not finish the homework, and even at night leaning on the closet can fall asleep, the repressed emotions seem to be about to explode. That day after school, walking on the road, it happened to come to a bus can sit one stop to save walking for 10 minutes, great joy.
With many students to squeeze up, a tall man and I stood face to face, I feel that he is not a good bird, but there is no way, too many people, not to mention that I am about to get off the car, bear it.
The car wobbled and slowed down, when this unlucky man actually pulled the chain of my jeans open and tried to put his hand in, I was angry and nervous and quickly blocked his hand and pulled the chain on.
The car stopped and I tried to get out, but he thought I was trying to get away from him and blocked me. Yes, he was big and tall, I couldn’t argue with this unlucky man. I can’t tell you how I felt at that moment, there was always a bit of desperation and hot blood.
I thought to myself, “Fuck, I’m one stop away from hooligans. You won’t let me off? Okay! I’m not getting off today. ！！！！
Coincidentally there was a boy in a neighboring class on one of the buses that I knew (his dad and my mom were co-workers), so I asked him in an unusually calm, even gentle tone, “* Yang, do you have a knife on you?”
Who knows he really had (maybe he did not have if I do not dare so impulsive, after all, I am the love of life of the child), and it is a pretty big and quite strong knife brightly in the dark night shining cold, he gave me also instructed me: “Do not tell your mother, do not let my father know.”
I gripped the knife so tightly that my hand seemed to have frozen. I suppressed 10 years of humiliation, 10 years of depression, 10 years of anger completely exploded at that moment, my voice was extremely loud, and I shouted out everything I wanted to curse, like a shrew cursing the street.
Previously, the so-called intimidation kill radius of at most 0.4 meters (after all, the wolf also want to face it), but this time the kill radius of 10 meters, I was hysterical, hissing, growling, cursing, I can curse, will curse a brain shouted out. Many of my classmates were scared to the front of the car by me (supposedly by the knife) as I held the knife against the tall man.
He didn’t say a word, turned his back and didn’t look at me, so I cursed, “Fuck you! You’re a wolf in human skin, playing a hooligan here! You don’t look at me now, just now touch me to fuck dick ……”
He turned his head and seemed to want to say something, so I cursed: “You fucking asshole, you dare to say something? Fuck you, if you dare say a word today, I’ll stab you to death!”
I pressed the knife against his backside, and he subconsciously took a step forward, really didn’t say anything, and gave someone else a very aggrieved look, making me even more furious.
Anyway, cursed two or three stops, I do not know what to curse, the pervert got off, I was in the car also yelled at him: “You give me to remember, the next time I see you non-castrated you! I fuck your mom ……”
When I got home, I was still in a state of extreme high spirits. Tell your parents what happened, and of course the knife, Dad said it was a military dagger ah, control knives. Mom wrapped it in several layers of newspaper and told me to return it to Yang tomorrow. Dad gave me a dagger he himself sharpened when he was young and told me to carry it with me ……
The next day, early in the morning at the same table of buddies very excitedly asked me: “I heard that you met a hooligan yesterday.”
“Yeah, bad luck.”
The fat guy at the front table turned his head and said, “I heard you said something classic yesterday ……”
“Yeah? I don’t even remember what I said. What?”
Fatty said, “Did you really forget? They said you cursed yesterday, ‘You’ve got a dick to show for it?'”
Haha a burst of laughter ……
In retrospect, this is really quite classic ah, “you grow a dick show a dick ah?” It’s in my book of quotes.
Later, I went to college in the south, hardly ever rode the bus, and never encountered any perverts.
Now, I work in a city in the south of the river, and I commute to work every day in a company car, which is safe.
I met a pervert on a bus once, but I seemed to enjoy myself, so I guess I’m really getting old.
[End of text]