Train is one of 16 stories collected in my e-book Yes – Stories of Submission, available for only $3.99 USD in my creator shop. Purchases fund the creation of new, free content. (Click here to view.)
Kitka had had a teasing, flirtatious courtship of Eric for two months. They’d kissed on the first date, she’d let him grope her tits through her shirt on the second, but up until tonight she hadn’t let him undress her, let alone fuck her. Not because she didn’t want to – but because they were both enjoying the thrill of anticipation. They knew it was going to happen – and soon.
They’d talked on video chat to arrange tonight’s dinner.
“So when are we taking it to the next level?” Eric asked.
Kitka had smiled, and bit her lip, and said, “Take me out and buy me an expensive dinner, and I think you’ll be a lucky man before the day is over.” She fiddled with the top button of her shirt, casually unbuttoning it.
His eyes were alight with interest. “Is that a promise?” he asked.
She thought about it, and then said, “Yes. I want you thinking about it all dinner. I want you imagining it. It’s the third of the month today. Take me somewhere *decadent* – *romance* me – and you’ll have your cock inside me before it becomes the fourth.”
She unbuttoned the second button of her shirt, and idly ran her fingers up and down the exposed skin – and then ended the call.
Eric lived up to his end of the bargain. He looked so good in a suit and tie that she wanted to submit to him right then and there. He took her to a restaurant that made her feel like they must have mistaken her for literal royalty just to let her in, and while he never let her see the cheque, she guessed that dinners plus drinks must have come to well over three hundred dollars. She blushed under the intensity of his attention and genuine attraction to her – *all* of her, although her risque black cocktail dress certainly pleased him – and by the time they left she was more than happy to deliver on her promise.
They decided to catch the train home. A taxi would have been easy; but she wanted the pleasure of strolling to the station with him, her arm held in his, his presence by her side.
When they reached the station, though, he turned to her, and said, “It’s eleven thirty.”
“Yes?” she said, not understanding.
“It’ll take forty minutes to reach your house. Longer for mine.”
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“If I’m not mistaken, my lady,” he said, “your promise was that I’d have my cock in you before it became the fourth.”
She blushed bright red as she took his meaning.
He looked at her with a steady gaze, grinning ever so slightly.
Kitka knew she could say no. Eric would never *make* her do anything. Rather, he liked to make her *want* to do what he wanted. If she didn’t want to go down this path, she need only ask. But she had a stubborn streak. She had made a promise; suggested a game; and she didn’t want him to see her as a woman who didn’t follow through.
“Yes,” she said, holding his gaze. “I did say that.”
He held out his hand. “Give me your panties,” he said.
She blushed again, and looked around. There were other people on the platform, though none were looking at her specifically.
“The bathrooms…” she started, but he shook his head.
“You’ll miss the train,” he said.
She was confused. Didn’t he want to fuck her, right now? Why did they need to catch the train?
And then she understood, and blushed even deeper.
Taking a deep breath – which pushed her tits forward in a way he clearly enjoyed – she reached under the hem of her cocktail dress, hooked the hem of her black lacy panties, and quickly wiggled them down her legs, hoping no one noticed. She lifted them up with one high-heeled foot, caught them in her hand, and placed them in Eric’s palm, her face bright red.
“Good girl,” he told her. Behind her she heard the hoot of an approaching train, and then the rush of air as it pulled to a stop behind her. She didn’t look. Eric was still looking at her face, and she was damned if she’d blink first.
Finally, he widened his smile, and looked past her to the train. “Get on,” he said.
They boarded the train. Late at night, it was mostly empty, but even so, Eric blessedly guided them to a seat in an empty car.
She went to sit, but Eric coughed. “On my lap,” he said. “You’re fulfilling your promise, right?”
She bit her lip, and waited for Eric to sit first. He adjusted his pants as he did. A moment later, she lowered herself down onto him – and squeaked.
He had his cock out, poking through his fly. It was rock hard, and as she sat on his lap, it slid smoothly into her naked, eager pussy. She felt it slide straight up her fucktunnel, filling her, until her groin landed on his lap with a satisfying “thud”, and she was left impaled balls-deep on his phallus.
She had to struggle not to moan at how good it felt. She hadn’t realised how *wet* she had become since Eric had reminded her of her promise – but she was soaked. She must be leaving a wet patch on Eric’s pants. She thought of all the times with a man that she’d had to fiddle to get his bits to line up with hers, and was thankful for her lubrication for making *this time* work perfectly on the first try.
“You still okay?” he asked her.
She didn’t trust herself to speak, but nodded emphatically “yes”, and made a quiet, primal, slutty sound that she hoped was encouraging.
“Good girl,” he said again. God, she loved it when he told her she was a good girl.
She expected him to start bouncing her on his lap, to fuck her, but he held still. She tried to do it herself, but he gripped her waist, holding her in place. She moaned with frustration. Being stuck there, feeling him inside her – feeling him *twitch* from time to time, flexing against her G-spot – was more maddeningly arousing than actually being fucked, it seemed.
He held her there for the entire distance to the next station. The train pulled up, the doors opened, and a few passengers got on. A cute twenty-something girl with coloured hair and a collar, listening to some unidentifiable tune on a pair of headphones, wandered over without really paying attention to their presence, and sat opposite them, not really looking at them.
Kitka had squeaked as the girl approached, and tried to get off Eric’s lap, but he held her for a moment, and whispered in her ear, “You can get up, but *I* want you to stay.” Then he had released her waist.
Kitka had considered for a moment, half raised, her face blushing – then sat back down on Eric’s lap, still impaled on his cock. She looked downward, avoiding eye contact with the girl.
As the coloured-haired girl – “Collar”, Kitka thought of her as – took her seat, Eric stared at the girl, getting her attention. Collar caught his stare, and looked at him curiously, lifting one headphone off her ear.
“It’s okay to take another seat,” Eric said. “There are plenty free. My girlfriend and I are having a moment. But it’s also okay to stay, if you like what you see.”
Collar looked the pair of them up and down, confused.
Then Eric spread his legs.
When Kitka had sat on Eric’s lap, his knees had been together, so she had draped her legs to either side of his.
When Eric spread his legs, it spread Kitka’s too.
Collar’s eyes widened as the front of Kitka’s cocktail dress rode up her thighs and bunched around her waist. She had a clear view of Kitka’s wet, shaved, lustful pussy, and Eric’s cock buried deep inside it.
Eric looked at Collar steadily.
Collar blushed, then grinned, and leaned back in her seat, eyes fixed on Kitka’s pussy.
*Then* Eric began to bounce her.
Kitka moaned in lust and humiliation. What was she doing? She was letting Eric fuck her on a public train, in front of a stranger, who could see everything. She was on display. She was acting like a slut.
“Give me permission to restrain you if you change your mind,” whispered Eric in her ear.
She didn’t need to think. They had discussed safewords, as part of their teasing flirtation. She knew the words that would make him release her, no matter what she told him now. She also knew that her stubborn streak would stop her using those words in all but the direst circumstances, even if she was humiliated, even if she was degraded, even if he ejaculated inside her in front of a crowd of her friends.
“Yes,” she moaned. “Oh, yes.”
They had both spoken quietly, but Collar had heard. Her smile deepened.
He kept fucking her, slowly, so slowly it was agonising. It was a slow build of lust, of need, deep in her cunt, but he wouldn’t let her control the pace, wouldn’t allow her to buck against him, instead keeping up a slow, rhythmic bounce, accentuated only by the occasional bump of the train on its rails.
He was still fucking her at the next stop, when more passengers got on. Collar recognised one of them – a tall, lanky goth boy. “James!” she called out. “Over here! You’ve got to see this!”
Kitka’s eyes widened, and she tried to get up again – but now Eric pulled her arms behind her, as she had told him he could, restraining her in place, spitted on his hard, warm cock. She whimpered.
The goth boy – James – did a double take as he approached. “Holy shit, is this okay? Is he restraining her?” He looked at Kitka. “Are you okay?”
Kitka nodded, blushing, and Collar said, “She told him he could. She’s a real slut.”
“Can we – “, started James, but Eric pre-empted him.
“You can watch,” he said. “It humiliates her when you watch, and she likes that. She knows how to make it stop if she needs to. Anyway, she’s been cockteasing me for two months, the little slut” – there was affection in his voice – “so I think she deserves a little humiliation, don’t you?”
“God, yes,” said Collar. Kitka could tell from her face that Collar wasn’t sure whether she was most envious of Kitka – impaled on a cock in public view – or of Eric, getting to dominate and fuck Kitka.
“Can we -” started James again.
“Just watch,” said Eric. “No cameras, no touching. Kitka’s a little slut who might enjoy playing with you, but we didn’t discuss it before, and she’s thinking with her cunt now so she’s in no position to make new decisions. You can write down your contact details if you want and she’ll know how to call you if she likes you.”
Collar scribbled some numbers on the back of a train ticket and tossed it to the seat beside Eric. Eric put it in his pocket, still fucking Kitka.
Kitka couldn’t think straight. Eric was right – she was thinking with her cunt now. All she wanted was to cum, never mind that two strangers were watching her, never mind that she was in public. Whatever would make her cum was something she wanted. She wanted to kiss the cute, sexy girl with the coloured hair. She wanted goth-boy James to pinch her nipples, flick her clit, even punch her in the cunt if that was what it took for her to cum. God, the impact would feel so good…
It was just as well Eric wasn’t letting her make any more decisions.
Eric started bouncing her a little harder, and she wanted to babble her gratitude to him. She wanted to turn and kiss him, but she couldn’t, she could only look at Collar and at James and see reflected in their lustful grins what a complete whore she was being. She was so wet she thought her arousal must be puddling on the seat.
Then Eric reached into the front of her dress, and lifted her breasts out. She gasped. Her pussy was one thing, but it was only visible to people in the seat opposite. *Anyone* in the train car could see her tits. There wasn’t anyone else *in* the car, of course, but….
Then Eric started pinching her nipples, and she didn’t care anymore. She whined with need. She wanted him to pinch them harder.
He did. And then he started using them as handholds, to bounce her up and down on his dick.
The pain was exquisite. It ran through her whole body, starting with her tits as he jerked her upwards by them, then pulled her back down, and travelling through her belly and into her cunt and ending with a *thump* as her cunt slammed into his balls, and then back up to her exposed breasts for another round. Her mouth opened into a wide “O” of surprise and lust, and she couldn’t seem to close it.
Then, just as the train was pulling up to the next station, she came. She couldn’t help herself – she wailed, so loud that she must have been heard from the next carriage over, and her whole body shook.
That was all it took for Eric. She heard him groan softly, and a moment later she was aware of a warm wetness between her legs. A moment after that, he stopped bouncing her. He had cum, ejaculating inside her.
As the chemicals of arousal burned out of her, post-orgasm, the awareness of where she was and what she was doing came over her – and with it, the paralysing embarrassment and shame.
She almost wanted to cry, but then Eric whispered in her ear, “Good girl,” and it was suddenly all all right.
“Shit, this is our station,” said Collar suddenly. The two spectators sprang to their feet. “Um… thanks,” said Collar. “Really.”
“Thank *you*,” said Eric.
James and Collar awkwardly retreated. Eric helped Kitka off his cock. She was surprised to see that she hadn’t actually made that much of a mess of his pants – just a very mild dampness, and a few spots of his own cum, which he teasingly used the hem of her dress to mop up. She moved to sit next to him, her knees pressed together, trying to keep his cum inside her.
As the train started up again, Eric stroked her hair.
“It’s midnight,” he said. “You kept your promise. Did you have fun?”
She blushed. “Oh, yes.”
“Not a one,” she said. And then she looked at him, and grinned, and held his gaze.
“Want to go out again Thursday night?” she asked.
“Absolutely,” he said, smiling.
“Well,” she said, “I don’t imagine we can do an expensive dinner like that every night. But I’ll make you a deal. How about you take me out somewhere I’ve never been before, but which has *excellent* food?”
“And if I do?” he asked.
“And if you do,” she said, “I promise that you’ll have me naked, on my knees, with your cock in my mouth before the clock strikes midnight….”
“I think I can do that,” smiled Eric. “Don’t look now, but there’s a passenger who just got on, and I think he’s going to sit opposite us. I know you’re holding your legs together because you have cum dripping from your pussy like a slut, but *I* think this fellow deserves to see what a slut you are, don’t you?”
She looked at him, a rebellious, bratty look.
“Because you *like* doing what I say, don’t you?” he continued. And she knew that she did.
The man, an older gentleman in a suit, sat opposite them, and Kitka stared at him until he returned her gaze, and then she slowly, deliberately spread her legs.
“Good girl,” said Eric, quietly, and Kitka knew that she would do anything to hear him say that again, and again, and again…