Author's Note: Thanks to angel love for her excellent editing.
*
"Emma Louise Carlton! – Come to the front of the class."
Emma squirmed in her chair, her shoes clicked together nervously and she sucked in her bottom lip. She knew that to delay would only anger Sister Judith even more, but she also knew what was coming. She mustered the strength to release her white knuckle grip of the school desk and stood, as she had been taught a lady should. She began the long walk to the front with all the demure a frightened school girl could be expected to display. Eyes upon her from either side and silence but for her footsteps and heart beat; she reached Sister Judith's Desk and lifted her eyes from the floor.
Sister Judith stood for a moment and looked kind, almost loving. She took Emma's chin and lifted her face until they made eye contact. Emma imagined this might be what it would be like with a man and for one brief moment she almost leaned in to kiss her mentor. Her tormentor however, had other plans.
"Do you believe girl . . . " Emma hated it when Sister called her girl, "Do you believe that you are so much better than the rest of us, that the rules do not apply to you?"
Emma didn't know what to say, to be silent could inflame Sister's anger but to speak may be impertinent. Sister Judith saved her from the dilemma and addressed her via the class. "Do you believe that anyone here is impressed with a young harlot?"
Emma couldn't believe that Sister Judith of all people would call her that in front of the other girls. "Lipstick is the clothing of street walkers. Is that what you intend to become – GIRL!" Emma had only worn the lipstick for Sister Judith, what had she been thinking. She knew what was next but it couldn't hurt as much as the words.
This time Sister spoke softly, "Take hold of the desk child."
Later in life Emma would often remember how strange it was to be so humiliated and humbled and yet feel loved at the same time. Emma took hold of the desk, her back to the class. She felt the glare of the other girls but also the closeness of Sister Judith; almost shielding her from them. Again the paradox struck her; her tormentor was also her protector.
"Lean!"
Emma winced at the sudden sharpness of Sister's voice and felt the ruler rest on her shoulder. Guided by the ruler she instinctively leaned forward, her backside offered in a display of subjugation. She felt her skirt being lifted and carefully folded in the small of her back, her panties pulled down just to the under curve of her buttocks. Even in punishment the nuns were neat. Emma knew that in this position her puffy labia could be seen by everyone. The moisture she had felt when walking down the class had become a flood. Just hearing Judith's voice could make Emma wet but being touched by her, being undressed by her – she hoped the other girls couldn't see. She hoped Judith could. Emma felt the cool rush of air over her pussy lips and buttocks and prayed that if she moaned the girls would think it was from the pain.
Thwack! Emma awoke to the sound of the compartment door sliding open. The red desert began to roll by as the train pulled out of the station and the sound of the tracks beneath her brought her back to her senses. In the doorway stood a man, half gesticulating a request to join the carriage and half making himself at home, packing away his bag in the over head rack.
Emma could feel the pain in her lip, where she had been biting it in her sleep. She remembered being handed two tissues, one for her tears and one for the lipstick. Now as then she felt she needed another; to deal with the wet patch in her crotch. She wondered if she looked flushed, if the stranger was aware of her disposition. She straightened her skirt and sat up. She nodded her acceptance to the intrusion, as if she had any choice in the matter.
Roughly sliding the door closed, and with his baggage stowed, the man fell onto the chair diagonally opposite to her. Emma quickly turned her attention to the window. She became aware of the slight musty smell in the compartment, of her heart beat and shallow breath. Her face flushed red. How embarrassing she thought, as she bit her bottom lip.
She wasn't focused on the landscape rushing by, only her reflection and that of her new unwanted traveling companion. She studied the man's reflection for a while. He looked to be in his late twenties. Sturdy as if he worked in manual labor, black facial stubble and hair. He was wearing a canvass shirt with the sleeves slightly rolled up and faded jeans.
"Country boy," Emma thought.
He was sweating from waiting on the platform and in the air-conditioned carriage Emma could feel the heat radiate from him. She was engulfed by a wave of his scent and was surprised that far from being unpleasant it was a sweet and peppery smell that made her a little light headed. He looked at her through her reflection and their eyes met. Instantly she looked away and she flushed again.
"Hi," he said as he opened his book and settled in.
Emma, had taken this journey before. Each Summer holiday since she was thirteen, she had traveled back to her Aunt's house. The 'Indian Pacific,' a massive four and half thousand kilometer train journey from Perth to Sydney through desert, coast land and mountains. Emma had joined the train in Port Augusta the night before, roughly half the journey, and would arrive in Sydney the next morning. As always, her Aunt had only shelled out for a day/nighter seat instead of a cabin. Emma didn't care, this was the last time she would take this journey.
"One night more," she thought, "one night more of wearing this uniform and being a girl."
She had turned eighteen a few months before the end of the school year and given what had happened since then she already felt like a woman. She thought of Sister Judith and a ball of pain welled up in her chest. She felt the hot liquid in her eyes. She had said her goodbyes, she was ok with it and she knew this was how it had to be. She also knew however, that she was leaving something behind with her childhood, a love that she didn't understand. Mother, sister, lover, tormentor; Judith had been them all. Emma focused her gaze on the landscape. The low setting sun flooded the compartment with crimson red light as the desert began to give way to the Blue Mountains. Emma closed her eyes and the throaty rhythm of the tracks rocked her back to sleep.
