Through A Glass Darkly

The sleeper train from Penzance isn't built like regular trains. The first four carriages are not to be boarded externally, incase sleepy passengers are wakened by rowdy locals.

The remaining are carriages are more spacious than usual, being only three seats across as opposed to four. The seats are broader and deeper, but there's no money so all the stuffing has been knocked out of them and it's probably going to be the least comfortable sleep of your life.

Wide windows which would otherwise show picture postcard scenery are black and shiny like obsidian, racing through the dark countryside. Thin curtains can be pulled on tracks to keep the night out, but then that would ruin my fun.

Our seats are in the last coach. There doesn't appear to be any other seats reserved until Plymouth. We have some time to play with. The ticket inspector has been through once already. We won't see him again for a while: there are limited stops s on this train.

I turn to face you. You know from the glint in my eye that I've mischief in mind, and taking my head in your hand, with my hair wrapped around your fingers, you enquire just what it is I'd like to do.

I love to watch us play. The quiet carriage; the broad tables between sets of seats. From our reservations, I can see our reflections in the window. The slight tapering in the construction of the carriage gives a differing reflection in the window on the far side of the compartment. I can see you, looking at me, watching you.

Kissing you is intoxicating. That perfect cupid's bow, on the sensuous cushions of your intensely desirable lips, framed by the softest goatee bristle. Whether I nibbled at those lips like so many hungry fish, or attempt to slake my thirst with kisses as deep as the Mariana Trench, I will never get enough. I take a kiss from you now, pinning you back against the seat and inhaling your scent deeply.

You wrestle from underneath me to gain control of the situation. (There's no need to fight - I am yours, after-all.)

Standing in the aisle of the carriage and ready to brace myself against a sudden jolt of the train, I remove my knickers where I stand and cast them in your face. I know you want me, and I know you won't let this cheek go un-punished. Immediately I prostrate myself across the table and offer you my bare ass-cheeks for punishment as I lift my skirt above my waist and tuck the fabric out of the way. Straight ahead of me I can see my face reflected in the dark mirroring glass. My eyes shine with excitement, (my cunt is wet with anticipation). I look up and can see the pale moon of my ass reflected in the black Cornish countryside. I see your face, hungry with desire to punish & pleasure me.

Your furthest hand grabs purchase on my hips, steadying your body against me, and I can see from both infront and behind as you raise your free hand and swing your flat palm onto my waiting flesh. Despite being able to see what is happening, I am still surprised by the impact and make a gasp before moaning quietly. The sound of bare flesh being smacked is delicious, and my cheeks sting where you struck me. I love the intimacy of being spanked, being in such close proximity to you whilst you deliver my punishment. I want more.

You do not disappoint - but before delivering the second blow, you reach down the side of the seat and retrieve the underwear I threw at you earlier, and roughly stuff my knickers in my mouth. The dry fabric causes me to choke slightly whilst I work my new gag into a more comfortable position using just my tongue, but you have no regard for my oral comfort and land another smack across my cheeks.

I know you enjoy watching us too. I look up and our eyes connect as I stifle a scream in my pants. You love my wide-eyed bambi stare, the tears starting to brim in my eyes.

Another spank! I bite down on my knickers and you can't quite tell if the noise I make is from pleasure or pain. A quick investigation of my cunt soon reveals how much I am enjoying this.

Smack me again! I love to watch you work my ass. Intense concentration on your face making sure you hit the sweet spot on my backside, and then the mirrored glass providing the added satisfaction of enabling you to see the impact of this contact upon my face. Tears now flow freely from my eyes, and their wetness is absorbed by my gag.

This is not enough for you. Until I truly suffer for you, you won't be satisfied. The fact that we are in such a public place doesn't phase you, and as the train rattles on through the dark countryside you slip your belt through the loops in your trousers and double it into a short, hand-held strap.

Now you've got my attention! I'm used to being tied down when you use a whip or crop on me, but there are no restraints on this train. I grip the sides of the table. I don't want to watch what is about to happen but I can't help myself.

You step away from me. You have to: the leather strap extends your reach, and standing too close to me is ineffectual. I see you glance over your shoulder, ensuring that there is no sign of the ticket inspector, or anyone else, negotiating their way towards our empty carriage - and then you leather my arse with the doubled-over belt. The hard strap is unforgiving and wraps itself around my cheeks leaving wide and angry welts. I scream into my gag and tears flow freely. Without thinking, I move my hands to protect my stinging behind. The disapproving look in your eyes says all you need to, and I plead silently with you as I gingerly remove my hands and place them back on the table.

Watching you in the window infront of me, I see you raise your arm again. My gaze shifts to see the white reflection of my naked butt in the window behind me. I tense my muscles in anticipation of the blow I am about to receive. You instruct me to relax, and I try my hardest to comply with your wishes. I evidently succeed because in one swift movement you deliver another painful blow. I scream again and my body twists and bucks from the assault.

It's too much for me. I look into your eyes and you can see we've gone past my threshold: you know me so well that there's no need to use my safe-word. You also know what I need now.

Another quick check down the moving corridors of the train so make sure we won't be interrupted. Your belt is cast aside, and your trousers fall to your ankles. Freeing your rock-hard erection from your underwear, you roll on a condom and easily slip inside my sopping wet cunt. Your cock fills me up and you thrust deep inside me - your hips slamming into my bruised and battered arse, and our bodies shunt against the table. Again and again you drive home your cock. I love being fucked by you: your tight balls banging against my pussy and as the train begins to slow and the lights of a station platform come into view, I cum for you, I reach behind me grabbing your arse and forcing you deeper and harder inside my pulsating cunt until you cum too.