Sarah was perturbed. She had not seen anything through the train windows for a long time. Indeed, she realised, she had seen nothing during the latter part of what had been a particularly dreary and tedious train journey. Of course it was dark, it was night after all, but surely there should be some light out there - a cottage perhaps with a homely yellow window, trackside signals, the headlights of cars on a road - but there had been nothing; just the steady rumble of steel wheels on track. A monotonous regular sound. Were they crossing a particularly empty piece of moorland, were they within a long cutting, perhaps travelling through a forest or simply traversing a singularly dreary and deserted tract of country?
It was eerie, it was unearthly, it was unnerving. Sarah's black nylon clad knees held close together and she looked up and down the railway carriage but it too was strangely deserted -- deserted, that is, but for the man seated opposite.
He was not large, not small, not old, not young, not fat, not thin, not dark, not grey. The man seemed almost defined by what he was not; a man of such ordinariness that it was surprising. His voice was almost accent less but might have been Scottish.
"They'll have to come off you know."
The sound of his voice broke the hypnotic regularity of the steel wheels on the track. It was almost an intrusion into her thoughts.
Sarah was puzzled and looked puzzled. The ordinary man had not said a word the whole journey. Why now and what would have to come off?
"Sorry?"
"Your clothing. Your clothes will have to come off."
It was unexpected, such a strange thing to say out of the blue. What did he mean?
"I'm sorry?"
"Your clothes. They will have to come off if I am to examine you."
Sarah was quite taken aback. She was not in a doctor's surgery: quite the contrary, she was in a railway carriage. Should she get up and walk away?
"I really am sorry... I thought you said... are you a doctor?"
His head bent in affirmation.
"But I'm not unwell."
"Good. I would not know about that."
"But you said you wanted to examine me."
"Oh... I see, my dear, but I'm not a medical doctor."
The conversation was bizarre. Sarah thought it better to get up and move to another carriage. Outside the window was nothing; the train trundled on, making its steady way through the blackness. Inside was silence except for the steady sound of the wheels on the rails.
Sarah pressed the button but the door to the next carriage would not open. She tugged at the door but it would not budge.
The man nodded to Sarah as she walked back past him.
Diddly dum, diddly dum, diddly dum.
The door to the other carriage did not open either.
"They really will have to come off."
He was not close behind her, not even standing in the aisle but his voice carried down the carriage. Sarah turned,
"Why? If you're not a doctor why do you wish to examine me?"
There was a wrinkling of his forehead as if of puzzlement. "I enjoy the feel of the flesh of young ladies, particularly the intimate flesh and the moistness."
Perturbation! Outside the darkness slipped by. It was impossible to judge the speed of the train, all she could hear was the regular rumble of the steel wheels on the track - an almost hypnotic sound.
What he had said was so creepy and yet so true. Sarah knew it.
She knew she would have to stand as he slowly undressed her like a Barbie doll; wait patiently and permit his fingers to move carefully over her body, touching and exploring before he did other things. And all the while the train would trundle through the darkness.
So long as the wheels kept up their steady sound she was helpless. If only the driver would apply the brakes, if only she could reach the Communication Cord; not that it was a cord these days but a handle behind glass and it was quite beyond her to reach for it. She could not do that.
What had he done - or the train done - to sap her will, make her subservient to his wishes and take away the power to act on her own volition?
"Why don't you come back here?" He had stood and was looking back down the carriage at her.
She could but comply.
"I do so like tweed," the man said feeling the material of her jacket's lapels. "It drapes well." His fingers stroked down the lapels and across her breasts. "A warm material; but we are lucky - it would have been unfortunate for us if the carriage had not been well heated. It would not do for you to get cold as you undress."
It was warm but Sarah shivered. Why did she have to let him touch her? Why was she complying when he eased the jacket over her shoulders and folded it on a seat? The care he took with it surprised her - he did not simply drop it onto the seat but shook it out and carefully folded it to ensure there was not the slightest risk of a crease. His finger tips seeming to linger on the fabric before turning again and touching her blouse.
"Ah, Egyptian two fold cotton - so soft and such a pretty pale cream. You choose your clothes well. I would take great pleasure in helping you shop for clothes. A delightful day amongst the clothes racks and fitting rooms. Choosing and trying on. Decisions, decisions, decisions. A size 10 or perhaps 12? Somewhat in between, I should think, but don't they vary just so much between one label and another? And who is this blouse by? May I unbutton? But of course I may."
His chatter was in strong contrast to his earlier silence.
The first button, not the one at her collar - that button had not been done up - was undone. A little of her white lacy bra revealed; his fingers eased the next button and then the blouse was truly open, her cleavage spilling into the yellow light of the carriage; the light giving a slightly tanned look to the swell of her breasts above the cupping of the white lacy bra.
Sarah had rather expected the man's fingers to move to her breasts. She knew this would happen but it seemed the man was in no hurry as his fingers continued to carefully undo the buttons of her blouse, easing the mother of pearl through the eyelets, his nail drawing the material to one side to let a button slip through. A slight tug and the tail of one end of the blouse slipped up within her skirt followed by the other tail so the blouse swung open.
"It is surprising - perhaps - how pretty tummies and the tummy button is. Such a pointless leftover from birth but there it remains; the navel; a funny little dip perhaps useful for adorning with a jewel or drinking fine claret from - but what else? It would have been so much more sensible of nature, really, to have put the vaginal opening there rather than tucked it away between the legs don't you think?"
That thought had never occurred to Sarah any more than permitting a stranger to undress her on a railway train would have come into her mind. Outside, the dark was impenetrable; there was nothing there, her world had shrunk to the railway carriage, the man and the rolling steel wheels with their steady rhythm.