Couchette

After I obtained my degree I decided to take a holiday before starting work. I had a job lined up but the company was in the process of shifting their offices, and I wouldn't actually start until the move had been completed. This gave me a month in which to bum around and I thought that it would be the ideal time to visit Europe.

With blessings from my parents (and a nice little cheque, thank you Dad) I set sail for foreign shores. Took wing, really, as I flew over. Sailing would have taken ages. I landed at Heathrow in England and started exploring. I intended to spend only a few days in each country, with France my next point of call. I wanted to go under the English Channel. Did you know that the tunnel is over thirty miles long? That's a fair way to be underground.

After the experience of going through the tunnel, France itself was a bit of a letdown. The place is nice, with plenty of history, but I found the people rather supercilious, wanting my money but not really wanting to supply service with a smile. As far as I was concerned two days there was plenty.

Another thing I wanted to experience while in Europe was the overnight trains. I think it's cool that you can get in a train, have a good night's sleep, and wake up three countries away from your starting point. I went on down to the Eurorail offices to arrange for a trip.

I promptly hit a snag getting onto that night's train. I, naturally enough, wanted to make sure I was in an all women couchette. There were no vacancies in the women only couchettes. There were some vacancies in the mixed six people couchettes. Mind you, being Paris, I couldn't be sure if this was just the typical Parisian attitude of hinder the tourist or a genuine fact. Not that it really mattered. If I wanted to catch that train it would be in a shared couchette.

"There is no need to worry about it, mademoiselle," I was assured. "It is true that in the single sex couchettes one changes into night clothes, but the mixed couchettes are larger, sleeping six, and the passengers do not change into nightwear.

"What you have on," the swine told me, giving me a very nasty once over, "is quite reasonable for nightwear."

I was wearing a very nice slacks suit at the time. The way he looked at me you'd think I was wearing baggy old flannelette pyjamas. They have the oddest notion about what is suitable female clothing here, although the women do look quite chic. I'd picked up several nice items while shopping.

Resignedly I booked into a shared couchette. Sharing the night with five strangers was not my idea of ideal but it would be an experience. I'd just have to hope that they didn't snore.

When I boarded I was pleased to find that there were mainly women in the couchette. Four, including me, with the two men being a couple of American sailors who were travelling to Germany for some reason. Everyone seemed quite cheerful. It can be the pits travelling with someone who's a grouch. Seeing that we were going to be spending the night together I made an effort to be friendly with everyone.

When we pulled in to Metz we were advised to get a meal there. The train would be there for half an hour. Being hungry I took the advice and was soon in the station diner trying out their menu. When I got back to the couchette the seats had been transformed into bunks. I just sat on the one allocated to me, not wanting to lie down yet. Shortly afterwards the two sailors rolled up and sat on their bunks.

I was still waiting for the other women to appear when the train whistle sounded and the train started moving. I looked at the three vacant bunks and must have seemed a bit startled as one of the sailors spoke up.

"The ladies were only going to Metz," he said. "That's why they're not on board."

So just like that I found I was spending the night alone with two men. At least, the couchette was fitted with a signal so I could page the conductor if required. It was already into the evening. I decided to just lie down and see if I could go to sleep.

I couldn't really get to sleep. I was lying there, just feeling drowsy, hearing the low tones of the sailors as they talked to each other, keeping their voices down out of consideration to me. After a while the lights went out, the sailors shut up and I finally nodded off.

I was woken up a very short time later to find the lights on and the sailors standing next to my bunk. Seeing that I was awake one of them spoke.

"Um, I'm Tom," he told me. "This is Angus."

My immediate thought was who the hell would call their child Angus? That was a Scottish name, not American. That thought went by the way when Tom kept on speaking.

"We're bored and not really tired yet so we thought we'd get in some nice healthy exercise before we went to bed. Are you game?"

What? Was he asking if they could have sex with me? He was, I was sure of it. I shook my head.

"No. Thank you, but no thanks."

"Pity. We were only offering out of politeness," Tom said, and although he appeared to have a nice friendly smile it didn't comfort me.

"What do you mean?"

"Just that you're going to help us exercise, willing or not," I was calmly informed.

Ye gods. He was serious. He was casually telling me that they were going to rape me. No way was I going to let that happen.

"If you lay so much as one finger on me I will scream," I told them. "People will come running and you'll be arrested."

"If you scream we will tell the conductor that you tried to shake us down and screamed when we wouldn't pay you," came the reply. "The result will be that all three of us will be turned over to the police to let them sort it out. We're now in Germany and the German police are very thorough. They will probably keep the three of us locked up for three or four days while they try to sort it out, but in the end it will be our word against yours. Two witnesses will beat one."

The pair of them stood there watching me as I ran that through my mind. What he said made a horrible kind of sense. It would only be my word against theirs and we could easily find ourselves held by the police for days before it was sorted out.

"I see that you're getting the idea," said Tom, smirking at me. "Feel free to struggle while we undress you, but do try to keep the noise down. We don't want to wake up our neighbours."

With that comment Tom grabbed my leg, pulled off my shoe, and stepped back again. I'm like, "Say, what?" when Angus pounced on my other leg, took off my other shoe and then he stepped back.

"What the hell are you two doing?" I asked.

"Strip roulette," said Tom.

"What?" What the hell was strip roulette?

"We take it in turns to remove an item of clothing," Tom explained. "The person who takes off the last item wins and has first turn. You can probably work out which of us that will be, but don't tell us. We'll find out soon enough."

With that he pounced again, this time undoing my slacks and pulling them off. I wasn't letting him do it. I was wriggling and hitting and trying to kick, but the big goon held me easily while he unbuttoned, unzipped, and pulled them down and off.

That's the way it went. They didn't try to rip the clothes off me. It seemed to be a point of honour that each item should be properly undone and taken off without any damage. Not that that helped me. My clothes were still coming off. It was Tom who finally peeled my panties off, which I'd known was coming as soon as he'd explained the rules.

Now that I was naked Tom started peeling off. It was obvious that he was ready for action. Way too obvious in my opinion.

"Would you like Angus to hold you down while I take you?" Tom asked.

"Why would I want Angus to hold me down?"

"That way you can pretend that you're an unwilling victim," Tom says.

Pretend? I was an unwilling victim and he fucking knew it. I'd made it plain enough. I glared daggers at him, hoping that he'd shrivel up and die. No such luck. He just laughed at me.

"OK," said Tom. "Roll over onto your hands and knees. Let's get this show on the road."

Crunch time. Do I continue to fight or do I yield? Fighting wouldn't really get me anything but a minor satisfaction, as they were going to be able to hold me down quite easily. Still, a minor satisfaction was better than none. Right?

Wrong. Tom sensed that I was getting ready to try to fight him off and got in first.

"If you try and struggle, I'm very much afraid I would have to spank you," he said softly. "Now you don't want that, do you?"

Looking at the muscles on him I decided no, I did not want that. One spank from that great paw of his and he'd probably knock my bottom clean off. Swearing softly I rolled over onto hands and knees. (I didn't know I knew so many swear words. Maybe I was reading Tom's mind and using a sailor's vocabulary.)

One thing I found was to my advantage, in an irritating sort of way. Having the two men slowly strip me, helpless to stop them and knowing what was coming once I was naked, had got me aroused. I was wet and would probably have no problems accommodating Tom, apart from the fact that I didn't want to. So there I was, on hands and knees, feeling Tom settling onto the bunk behind me.

Good god above, it was fortunate I was already wet and aroused. Tom came plunging into me as though he'd spent half an hour arousing me and I was crying out for relief. He just drove home, with me giving a startled yelp, finding that I was indeed able to accommodate him and, fortunately, able to do it fast.

I was half stunned at the speed of Tom's attack, and he didn't slow down at all. The man had no finesse. Probably didn't even understand the meaning of the word. He was all go, go, go, driving into me as hard as he could go.

In self-defence I was trying to meet his thrusting organ, lifting my hips and pushing back against him, gasping with the shock of what was happening. In a strange kind of way the whole thing was arousing, me helpless and being thoroughly ravished, with no say in the matter at all.

I was vaguely conscious of Angus standing next to the bunk, watching the action while he waited for his turn. I flicked a glance at him and promptly wished I hadn't.

When I'd first seen the two sailors I'd noticed Tom more than Angus. Tom was pushy while Angus held back a little. When they were undressing me I'd noticed that Angus was large and seemed to be able to handle me far more easily than Tom did. Looking at him now I noticed two other things about Angus.

He was covered in fur and looked like a shaggy rug. He was also very large, both in stature and in equipment. He was large enough that I was grateful that Tom, for all his lack of finesse, was going first. Even going second I was wondering if Angus would split me in half.

Tom was still pounding into me, going hell for leather. The best I can say for it was that it was interesting. A new experience. Yes, he was arousing me, but very slowly compared to the amount of effort he was putting into his work. I had a very nasty feeling that Tom was not going to bring me to a climax, no matter how long he laboured.

Don't you just hate it when you're right and you don't want to be right? I was warming up nicely, if crudely, when Tom gave a gasp and let fly, his run over and he was spent. Me, I was warmed up and that was all.

Then Angus was there. He wiped me down and reassured me that all would be well. If being ravished by a second man means that all's well. He flipped me over onto my back and lifted my legs high and wide so I was almost looking at myself.

"Don't worry, lass," he said. "I know your problem and I'm going to attend to it."

My main problem was that I was too small to punch Tom on the nose and break it, but I don't think that was what Angus was referring to. Whether the fact that I hadn't climaxed under Tom's gentle administrations was a problem is a debatable point, but I assume that was what Angus was referring to.

I was looking down at my pussy and Angus's organ hovering next to it and thanking god that Tom had at least stretched me somewhat. Then Angus was pressing forward. I watched with a sort of fascinated horror as he slowly sank into me. He wasn't in a hurry, just easing slowly in, filling me, stretching me even more, and then filling me some more. If I hadn't seen the damn thing sinking into me I'd never have believed that I could take him.

Angus finally settled down upon me, his shaft absolutely nailing me to the bunk. Then he started work. While I watched he pulled out, just as slowly as he'd pushed in in the first place, then he was again sinking into me.

Talk about yin yang. Tom was all haste and power. Angus had the power but he was all about leisurely gentleness, taking his time as he sank into me again and again. His slow movements were adding their own polish to the arousal that Tom had started, but the increments were tiny. Well, not really that tiny, I guess, as there was a lot of him adding those little increments. So much of him that they were adding up quite fast.

In no time flat I was breathing hard, a lovely arousal floating through me. Excitement was building and I knew that this time I'd climax. It was just going to be a case of wait a while and when Angus got going I'd go off with no problems. Something good was going to come from this unfortunate incident.

It turned out that I had another problem to surmount first. Angus had no intention of getting going, apparently quite happy to continue his leisurely thrusting, enjoying the feel of his cock in me. He just kept on going, and going, and going, slowly driving in and slowly retreating and slowly driving me wild.

"An hour," said Tom, speaking out of the blue.

"What?" I asked puzzled and momentarily distracted from Angus's careful ravishment.

"He can keep that pace up for about an hour," Tom elaborated. "We timed him once."

An hour of this? I'd die. I was already uncomfortably close to a climax, my whole body feeling wound tight. If something didn't give soon I'd just break into pieces.

Not that Angus seemed to be worried about my plight. He just kept on going, driving in, pulling out, driving in again.

I was goading him now, trying to get him to move faster. I'd managed to wrap my legs around him and was trying to pull him in while I pushed up against him, but the man was built like a gorilla and just as strong. We were doing this at his speed and if I didn't like it, bad luck, but that's how it was going to be.

He didn't take an hour but he certainly took too long. I was almost in tears with desperate need when Angus finally started to drive home more solidly. He pulled back in his usual slow fashion, paused, then drove home hard and fast and I climaxed with a shriek. I just shuddered and clung to him and my climax seemed to just go on and on while I could feel Angus letting loose inside me.

I was done and gone. I was aware that Angus was no longer on me, but I felt completely boneless, unable to move. Someone turned the lights off and I just fell asleep.

When I woke up I was still lying naked on top of the bunk. Tom and Angus weren't there. Fortunately the door was locked. Imagine someone coming in and catching me like that. I very hastily dressed.

I was at least able to scratch sleeper train journey off my list of things to do. And I made a note that I'd never be caught dead in a train. If I have to commute I'll take a bus.