A Train Ride To Remember 8

[Usual disclaimer that all characters are over 18 and not based on real people, I don't condone any of these actions, and this is all fiction.]

***

Sarah cursed and stomped her feet on the platform, her breath puffing out in front of her. She shrugged her bag higher onto her shoulder and pulled her scarf up to her nose as she leaned forward to catch a glimpse of the train departure board. The station's PA system kicked in and announced something in an unintelligible automatic voice. Probably the reason for the fifteen minute delay on her train home.

Her phone rang deep in the confines of her bag, and Sarah struggled to take off a glove to swipe to pick up the call. "Hey, where are you? I've been texting you for ages!"

"Sorry, I must not have heard it buzz," Sarah apologised. "I'm still waiting for the train, it should be here in five."

"What?! You're still at the station? I thought you were going to leave work early!"

"I know, I'm sorry - goddamn Corinne decided to change up our whole strategy for the pitch and I had to run a bunch of new analyses," Sarah sighed.

She heard her sigh echoed on the other end of the line. "Sarah, we really need to talk about your work. You're going to burn out if you're not careful. I'll see you soon."

"I -" Sarah started, but the line had already gone dead. She tried to call back but her phone ran out of battery. "Stupid cold weather," she muttered, chucking it back into her bag and pulling her glove back on to her frozen hand.

When her train finally pulled in, Sarah quickly hopped on the last carriage and slumped into a seat, setting her coat and scarf down on the seat next to her. Within a few minutes, the gentle rocking of the train had lulled her into a half-sleep.

She was pulled out of her doze when the train jolted to a screeching halt. With the lights on in the carriage, Sarah struggled to see anything out the window into the pitch black night. She cupped her hands around her face and confirmed her suspicions - they were not at a station. This was the weird part of the journey where the city fell away before reaching the suburbs, and the train travelled through what looked like fields in the middle of nowhere.

The train's PA announcement came on, and a garbled message from the conductor came through in bits and pieces. "Freaking rail network," Sarah grumbled, "nothing works, can't ever hear shit." She thought she caught the words

electrical fault

but beyond that, had no clue what the issue was.

She stood up and glanced around, noting she was alone in the carriage. She sighed and slumped back into her seat, figuring the train would move eventually.

After some time - with her phone dead, Sarah had no idea how long - she got bored, and stood up once more. The carriage was still empty, but she decided to walk through the train and hope to find someone, anyone, who knew what was going on. She headed one carriage over, and found a pair of businessmen quietly chatting in a corner, still wearing their suits and drinking from fancy flasks.

"Hi, excuse me," she said as she approached them, "do you know what's going on?"

They stopped talking and turned to her, looking unimpressed at the interruption.

"Train's stopped," one of the men announced.

"Yes, I can see that," Sarah replied. Her patience was really being tested today. "Do you know why?"

"Electrical fault," shrugged the second man. "I think."

"Great, that's just great," Sarah scoffed and threw her hands up. "I'm gonna find the train guard."

"There isn't one," the first man told her. "They run driver-only trains on this line, now. About time, too, overpaid dicks who don't do shit, just sitting in their little compartment making their announcements." He guffawed and took a sip, his friend nodding along approvingly.

"Well, clearly, this is a case for why train guards are still needed," Sarah retorted. "And I don't think the train guard who works 12 hour shifts for 40k a year is the overpaid dick, you Armani suit-wearing, Rolex-toting, capitalist pricks," she snapped.

She turned on her heel and walked away, heading back to her carriage. A twinge of guilt fluttered through her - she wasn't normally so abrasive to total strangers - but she rationalised it away. It had been a long day, she was cold and hungry and tired and just wanted to get home.

And they probably were rich pricks anyway - the Armani and Rolex thing was real, she'd spotted that as she was talking to them, and the capitalist thing... was probably also real. Although they were on a train, heading to the suburbs, instead of a private cab heading to a swanky loft in the city...

"Fuck," Sarah groaned, feeling decidedly annoyed at her outburst.

She regretted her choice to dramatically turn away and walk back to her carriage. She could have carried on and tried to head to the driver's cabin at the front of the train to get more information, but now she was stuck: there was no way in hell she was walking past them again. Otherwise she'd have to apologise, and she hated doing that.

So instead, Sarah got comfortable on her seat and took out her work laptop - without internet, all she could do was play solitaire, and the remaining battery would surely drain in less than a half hour, but they would for sure be moving by then, right?

***

Sarah's laptop turned off just as she was about to place her final card, the one that would have made all the remaining cards fly up into their rightful place in a satisfying flutter, and she sighed in frustration.

The sudden loss of light from her computer screen made her realise just how dark the carriage had gotten. Had the lights dimmed while she was playing? Perhaps this electrical fault was more severe than she thought.

Just as she was debating trying her luck walking past the business douchebros again, the inter-carriage door slid open. Curious, Sarah stood up and looked back.

"Speak of the devil," she thought to herself, as the two businessmen entered the carriage, holding their phones up to illuminate their way.

"Hey lady," one of them called out. "We've got news!"

Sarah stepped out into the alleyway, walking up to meet them halfway down the carriage, next to a group of seats facing each other.

"The driver came down the train to give us an update," he continued. "Electricity's out on this part of the track, something to do with the cold. The train's almost out of power, and -," the remaining lights turned off as if on cue, "scratch that, the train is

completely

out of power. Everything's out, lights, heating, CCTV..."

Sarah sighed. "Did he say how long we will be stuck here?"

"Dunno," the man shrugged. "Driver said it could be at least another hour, probably two."

Sarah groaned and rubbed at her forehead. "Fan-tastic," she muttered, "just what I need, with my phone out. Well," she looked at the men in turn, "thank you for letting me know, I appreciate it."

Sarah held out her hand, and the man who'd given her the update took it. His grip suddenly tightened and she struggled uncomfortably in his grasp.

"Name's Jack, by the way. Not, what was it? Armani-wearing, Rolex-owning asshole?" he said, his deep voice holding an edge in shocking contrast with the smile plastered on his face.

Sarah winced. "Yeah, I'm, listen, I'm sorry," she stuttered. "I've had a long day, but that was out of line."

"Damn straight, missy. Now I think you owe my partner Pete and I a proper apology," he growled.

Sarah looked over at Pete, standing a few steps back. He was holding his phone close to his face, and the torchlight blinded Sarah so she couldn't quite make out his features.

"I said I'm sorry," she muttered past gritted teeth, pain creeping into her hand, still held in Jack's vice-like grip.

He pulled her in to him roughly, and she yelped as she stumbled and fell into his chest. He brought his lips close to her ear, his breath hot on her neck. "Yeah, but I have higher expectations than that," he whispered.

He pushed her back roughly and she stumbled again, falling backwards onto the seat behind her.

"Plus I'm bored," he shrugged, "stuck here with nothing to do." He looked her over appreciatively as she pulled her legs under her and shimmied away from him, her back hitting the wall sooner than she'd like. He was still standing just a few feet away.

"Show me your tits."

Sarah was so shocked she couldn't help but laugh. Anger flashed through Jack's eyes and he ground his teeth, his fingers tensing on the back of the chair next to him.

"Don't fucking laugh at me, you worthless bitch," he said, voice low and dripping in contempt. "I said, show me your tits."

Dread slowly crept over Sarah. She'd never been in a situation like this. She didn't know what to do, how to react, how to handle this. She glanced over at Pete, but his demeanour remained stoic, giving nothing away. He didn't seem to be encouraging Jack, but... he clearly wasn't going to stop him either.

Jack took a step towards her and Sarah flinched. He held his hands up apologetically, and took a step back.

"Okay, okay, listen, I'm sorry," he said. He put his phone down on the seat, the light pointing up and casting shadows on the ceiling as he shrugged off his suit jacket and loosened his tie.

"I think we got off the wrong foot. I've also had a long day, you know," he sighed, sitting down next to Sarah who remained frozen in place. "But you really did insult me, earlier. You know, I come from nothing. I come from dirt poor, and I worked hard to get to where I am now."

Sarah nodded silently.

"And I really am bored. The service around here is terrible so I can't watch anything on my phone, and this guy," he jerked a thumb towards Pete, "has all the conversation of a wet blanket."

Sarah chuckled reflexively, sensing the joke in his tone, decades of socially-ingrained mannerisms kicking in to keep the peace.

"And you really are beautiful," Jack added, sliding closer to her and setting his hand on her thigh. "Isn't it a compliment, after all?"

Sarah swallowed past the lump that had formed in her throat. She could feel Jack's fingers tight on her leg, and now that his suit jacket was off she could see the muscles rippling under his shirt.

She didn't know if it was the cold, or the tiredness, or the lingering guilt from her outburst earlier, but she asked, "If I show you my tits, you'll go back to your carriage?"

Jack flashed a grin at her. "Absolutely."

Sarah sighed, and before she could change her mind, reached down to tug her blouse out of her skirt and pulled it up, revealing her breasts, ensconced in a light blue lacy bra. She pulled her blouse back down and raised her eyebrows expectantly.

"No, no," Jack shook his head sadly. "I said your tits, not your bra. Try again."

Rolling her eyes, Sarah reached behind her to unclasp her bra, then lifted her blouse again, this time taking her bra with it, flashing her nipples, standing out starkly in the cold air, to the men.

Before she could pull her clothes back down, Jack had lunged forwards, taking one of her breasts in his hand, rubbing his thumb over the stiff nipple.

"Hey!" Sarah exclaimed. Jack's arm was preventing her from pulling her blouse back down, and pressed against the wall as she was she had no wiggle room for escape.

"I told you, Pete," Jack smirked, "small areolas. You owe me a Franklin."

"Yeah," Pete grunted, "fair enough."

"What the fuck?!" Sarah interrupted, trying to push Jack away.

"Yeah, see, I lied, doll," Jack said, still rubbing his nipple with his thumb, oblivious to Sarah's pressure on his shoulder. "We're not going back to our carriage. We have way too many bets to settle about your sweet little body," he smiled at her wolfishly.

"And I lied about my upbringing, too," he chuckled. He grasped her throat with his free hand and effortlessly pulled her up to him. "I'm fucking loaded. Like, none of my money is fucking legal, loaded." His tongue grazed along her neck, sending shivers down her spine, and she yelped when he bit her ear.

"So, here's your choice," he said, dropping her back without warning, her head hitting the wall behind her with a dull thud as he sat back and inspected his nails. She was too shocked to pull her clothes down, now that she was able to.

"Struggle, refuse us, and I'll make your life a living hell: I can probably get you fired, and I can definitely get you evicted. I'm sure I could dig up some dirt on you and ruin your social life too, somehow."

"Or, play along, help my buddy and I settle our bets, and I'll give you 10k." Sarah couldn't help her glare turn into a look of surprise. "Oh, this time I'm not lying," Jack said, reaching over to his suit jacket and rummaging in the pocket.

"See," he said, taking out a fistful of bills and throwing them in the air. "That's probably about 3k right there, I'm sure I've got more in there, and I reckon I'll win a few more bets and Pete here can cover me for the rest," he chuckled.

Sarah stared at the bills strewn carelessly across the floor. 10k would go a long way with her lifestyle. She could quit her horrible job, spend a couple of months retraining, then get a better one... a job with a work-life balance... she could only fantasise.

Already hating herself for what she was about to do, Sarah gritted her teeth. "What do you want me to do?"

"Hah," Pete suddenly exclaimed. "That's one for me," he chuckled, "I knew she'd go along for 10k."

Jack nodded. "For sure, though I reckon I win too with this one. Take that top off, bitch, let me see those tits again."

Sarah bristled at the B-word, but breathed through her nose and undid the buttons on her blouse, carefully folding it and setting it next to her, then placed her bra on top. She would do what she could to maintain her dignity, damn them.

Jack settled back into his seat, spreading his legs wide, and motioned to the empty space in front of him. "Come stand here," he motioned.

Sarah hesitated, and he sighed, grabbing her arm and roughly pulling her to her feet. "Come on, don't make me do it for you," he grumbled.

She stood awkwardly, unsure what to do with her arms. Hands on her hips was too open. Hands clasped behind her back would throw out her chest too much. Hands at her side felt too passive. She settled for crossing her arms under her breasts, despite the slight lift it gave them.

Without a word, Jack reached up and unzipped her skirt, hooking his thumbs in the waistband and pulling it down to her ankles, along with her tights, in one smooth motion.

"Boom, two for Jacky-boy," he laughed, "it's a thong!" Sarah blushed and looked away, shifting her weight from foot to foot.

Jack brushed his fingers across the lacy material. "And look at that, matches your bra..." he smirked, looking up at Sarah's averted gaze. "You're a real little slut aren't you?"

Anger flashed in Sarah's eyes as she flicked them back to him, putting as much disdain into her expression as she could as she looked down on Jack from her higher position.

He laughed again. "Ooh, contempt from someone I don't respect, how terrible," he mocked.

"Come on," grumbled Pete, "let's move this along."

Jack looked at Sarah and rolled his eyes, smirking as if they shared an inside joke, as if she was in on it, as if this was just 'Pete being Pete'. He pushed her back into the seat opposite him, grabbing her ankles as they lifted off the ground and pulling her tights off the rest of the way.

He pushed her down so she was lying across the seats, and he leaned over her, one hand next to her and one on the seatback to steady himself. "Now, this next bit might be a bit more invasive, but it shouldn't be a problem for a little slut like you."

Sarah's eyes widened in alarm, as the full implication of what she'd gotten into just dawned on her. Jack moved down towards her crotch, pulling aside her thong and exposing her pussy to the old air.

"Wait, no no no, wait," she pleaded. "Please, wait."

He waved an impatient hand at her. "You agreed to this, slut. You're literally being paid to be pretty, this is the easiest job in the world. So shut up, and take the money," he said, grabbing some of the bills from the floor and throwing them to her.

Without further discussion, Jack spread her lips and shoved a finger inside her, probing roughly at her insides. Sarah winced and tried to inch away, only to find Pete's hand pushing down on her shoulder, keeping her steady.

"Alright, she's not a virgin, that one was pretty much a given though," he said. "Sorry, Pete."

Pete shrugged. "Ah, you gave me such long odds, it was worth a shot. At least I win one for her not being fully shaved," he said, pointing to the small patch of trimmed hair on her mons pubis.

"Please," Sarah tried again, "that's it, you're done, right?"

"Shut up," Jack growled, his hand finding her throat again, "we're done when we say we're done. Speak again and I'll punch that mouth of yours to make you stop. Keep quiet from now on like the good little slut you are, and I'll throw in an extra grand."

Sarah turned her head to hide her face into the seat as best she could. This would be over soon, the lights would turn back on, the train would move again, and they'd leave. She just needed to get through this, play along until they got bored, and it would all be over.

"Move over," Pete muttered, handing his phone to Jack to illuminate Sarah's naked body. "I'm down one, and I'm pissed off," he said, unbuckling his belt and pulling his cock out. "So I'm gonna check this next one out. On your knees," he ordered Sarah.

Sarah repressed a sob, pushing herself off the seat and onto her knees. She looked up at Pete pleadingly, but now that she could see his face more clearly, she saw no trace of pity in his eyes. Pete shoved his semi-erect cock at Sarah, tapping her lips with it.

"Come on, I'm sure you know what to do... get me hard."

She reached up a tentative hand and wrapped her fingers around his shaft. He winced and pulled away. "God, your hands are fucking freezing! I'll take your tongue instead, open your mouth."

Sarah closed her eyes and opened her mouth, feeling Pete slide his cock in. He moaned and started stiffening instantly. Feeling saliva start to pool in her mouth, Sarah swallowed instinctively, her tongue pressing against the tip of Pete's cock and drawing another moan from him.

He grabbed her head and held her steady as he pulled himself out and pushed himself back into her face. Soon his cock had hardened and grown, and Sarah was struggling to avoid gagging as he poked at the back of her throat with every thrust.

"Come on, bitch, take it," he grunted as he pushed himself further on his last thrust, pushing past the resistance and entering down her throat, burying her nose in his pubes, her chin touching his balls. He held her there for what felt like an eternity, before releasing her.

She fell backwards, gasping for air, wiping the saliva dripping down her chin, as Pete whooped in delight. "Deepthroat, that's one for me!" he exclaimed, high fiving a grinning Jack.

"Please," Sarah panted, "please, no more."

Jack squatted next to her, looking deep in her eyes. "Hey. Hey, now," he cooed. "Weren't you the one going on about working for money?"

He grabbed a fistful of her hair and dragged her forwards, throwing her down in the carriage's central alleyway. "Hands and knees, slut, work for your fucking whore money."

Sarah pushed herself up onto all fours and looked up to see Jack's cock, fully erect and already out of his pants, bobbing in front of her face. He raised an eyebrow and looked down at her. "Trust me, you're going to want to lube this up for what's coming."

She whimpered and opened her mouth, her jaw already aching. She yelped as she felt Pete grab her hips from behind, and Jack pulled her head back by her hair. "Don't you fucking dare bite me, bitch," he growled at her, the same anger she'd seen earlier flashing in his eyes.