Inevitable Destination

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The rhythm of the train lulls, reminds, and escorts them without err. [Story Contains Spanking]

Lawrence Kinden
Age Rating:

Inevitable Destination

The passenger locomotive moved along at its own steady pace, taking all aboard to their destination without deviation. The rhythmic movement of the train car, the sounds it made as it chugged along the tracks, was enough to lull the unwary to drowsiness, particularly so late in the evening. The dining car, of course was prepared to serve until midnight, so there was no danger there, but Mary found that after her third glass of wine, no matter that she'd had a splendid meal of roast goose leg, toasted crackers, cattail spears, and a boiled goose egg, she was beginning to let that rhythm lull her to drowsy tipsiness.

"Excuse me, miss."

Mary looked up from her glass of wine, the dark red liquid rippling in rhythm with the train, to the man who'd addressed her. He was dressed in a fine, dark suit, his blond hair combed back, his eyes a piercing blue. He smiled at her.

"I'm James."

"Mary." She introduced herself with a giggle.

They chatted for a while—where are you from? where are you going? what do you do?—until they happened upon coincidence.

"I went to Dodgson Academy, a school for boys in the north, and—"

But Mary was quick to interrupt. "Dodgson? Why, I went to White Alice Academy for Girls, just across the lake!" Her excited exclamation sounded loud in the mostly empty dining car. Mary blinked and wondered how many more glasses of wine she'd drunk since meeting James.

James smiled. "Did you really? When did you graduate?"

"Only last year," Mary blushed. It felt like admitting to being just a girl.

"I graduated two years ago."

A flurry of shared memories followed. Of course, the boys and girls weren't permitted to interact without strict adult supervision, but the headmaster and headmistress of the two schools had been married and shared similar educational philosophies. And then there were the dances. James told about being a shy boy, even in his last year and the one time he got up the courage to ask a girl to dance, he'd been shut down.

Mary giggled. "Oh, you poor dear."

And Mary shared that she'd been shy herself, though the boys all wanted to dance with her. And she admitted that, as she'd gotten older, more confident, she'd played the part of the flirt, because it helped to hide her true shyness.

"Tell me," said James at a lull in the conversation, "Did you ever row across the lake?"

Mary gasped and giggled. "You know that wasn't allowed, naughty boy."

James smiled and nodded but said, "You didn't answer the question."

Mary shrugged and sipped at her wine. "There was a shallow cave that I heard boys and girls used to meet at."

"Yes," said James. "I went there once, on a dare."

Mary blushed. "So did I."

The cave was dark; it was well past curfew. There were a few flashlights, enough to cast odd shadows and imperfect light, but James knew she was here. She was a pretty girl, just a year his junior. Her auburn curls framed a pale face. She was drawn in on herself, like she didn't want to be here. She was nervous. But at the same time, she was flushed and her breathing heavy, like she was excited. An intoxicating dichotomy.

The game was simple. Whosever turn it was spun the glass bottle and whoever it pointed to, that person had to kiss. On the lips. If a boy spun the bottle and it pointed at a boy, or a girl got a girl, the bottle was respun.


So, when it was James' turn, he took a deep breath, stilled his shaking hands and prayed. It wasn't that any of the girls was ugly or that kissing them would be a chore, but he'd had his eye on the girl with the auburn curls since she'd declined him at last month's dance.

The first spin pointed to Gregory who batted his eyelashes and puckered up to peals of giggles. James joined in the laughter and spun again, only to have the bottle point to Peter, a round boy with a crude sense of humor.

"Maybe the gods are trying to tell you you're a homo," Peter said to further giggles.

James ignored him and spun again. And when this time the bottle stopped, it was pointing squarely at the girl with auburn curls. James caught his breath and his heart stopped for several moments then jumped to triple its usual speed to make up for it.

James knelt before her, searching her face. She was at once excited and terrified. But as he leaned in, she shrank back.

"Ha! She doesn't want to kiss you, James. She's worried you're a homo too."

Disappointed, James pulled back. The cave filled with laughter.

Neither of them said anything after their admission that they'd gone across the lake on a dare. There was only the sound of the train, the light off Mary's wineglass, and the murmur of a few other patrons at the other end of the dining car.

"Did you get caught?" Mary asked after the protracted silence.

James nodded. His expression turned sober as he dropped into a momentary reverie, but he shook himself from it and gave a rueful grin. "It was headmaster himself who stood at the edge of the lake to receive us. Right there at the dock he made us strip our trousers and trunks while he found a suitable switch and made us howl to humble the wolves."

Mary gasped in sympathy, but her breathing had grown heavy, like she was excited. "Oh, I'm so sorry. When I went, we didn't get caught."

James chuckled. "What a shame. I'm sure you'd make for a cute penitent."

Mary slapped his arm in mock rebuke. "It's not like I was never spanked. But I was a good girl."

James brushed her hand with his. "I know.

"You're drunk."

"Am not."

"Do you even remember where your sleeper car is?"

Mary had to admit that she did not, but continued to protest as James led her to his sleeper.

"This is entirely inappropriate. I've just met you."

James stopped at the door to his sleeper, supporting Mary's weight on one arm and fishing for a key from his pocket with his other.

"Would it be more appropriate if I left you to sleep in the hallway? Imagine what headmistress would say if she could see you in such a state?"

Mary shuddered. "Talk about a spanking." But at the same time, Mary was certain that headmistress wouldn't have approved of her staying in the same room as a man she'd just met.

The sleeper cars were small, with just enough room for a narrow bunk, a tiny lavatory, and a closet, but it was private space and well worth the cost. James sat on the bunk with a sigh, leaving Mary to wobble unsteadily on her own. He cleared his throat uncomfortably.

"So, you can have the bunk, and I'll make do with the floor."

"Oh, no James, I couldn't do that to you."

"Do you want to sleep on the floor?"

"Well... no."

Mary puckered her eyebrows as though trying to uncover a better solution to their problem when a sudden lurching motion caught her off balance and threw her to the floor. She landed with a thump and a shriek, but strong arms encircled her and helped her to her knees.

"I'm fine," insisted Mary.

James did not release her. He knelt, one knee raised, and Mary knelt on both knees, pressed up against his leg in the small space. In a moment, each realized the potential of the situation and the atmosphere in the sleeper car turned tense.

Mary licked her lips. "You wouldn't."

"Wouldn't what?" But James tightened his grip, pressing Mary against him.

"James, please."

"Please what?" James insisted.

"I... I don't..."

"You're drunk, Mary. A most unsuitable situation for a young lady of your upbringing, and here you are in a man's room. The headmistress would have had you over her knee in a moment, wouldn't she?"

Mary sniffled but nodded.

"Plus," said James. "There was that night in the shallow cave."

Mary swallowed hard. "So it was you? I'm sorry, I was so scared."

"Scared? Of what?"

Mary just shook her head. "Don't spank me, James. Please."

"Oh, I'm going to spank you, Mary. You've earned that much."

Despite her protests, Mary didn't struggle as James pushed her down over his thigh. When he began to raise her skirts, however, she began to try to squirm away.

"No, no, not on the bare, please James, please!"

But James was committed to his task. The voluminous skirts came up and over her hips to show off the white panties adorned with frilly lace. Mary was still squirming deliciously against him and a familiar tightness stirred in his loins.

James slapped her bottom sharply, eliciting a squeal.

"You're a naughty girl, Mary."

He spanked her again and she squealed again, but breathier this time.

"I know," she replied. "I know James. I..."

He spanked her again and the word caught in her throat, turning into a sob.

"I... I thought about that time..."

James spanked slowly, steadily, interrupting her confession with squeals and sobs.

"I always wished—owie!—wished I hadn't—ungh—I hadn't wimped out."

James smiled. When he'd spied the auburn haired beauty from across the dining car, he had never expected the situation would work out so well. He'd never have had the courage. But the few glasses of wine he'd had while they'd talked had bolstered his will. Now, here he was with the beautiful girl bent over his knee, her lacy panties on display, her bottom bouncing under his firm palm.

He paused to rub at her bottom gently. "I don't blame you for that, not really. I'm not even mad that you turned me down at the dance."

Mary gasped. "That was you too?"

James chuckled. "It was. No, the reason I'm spanking you now is because somehow you got out of one that night. You girls should have been spanked on the docks just like we were."

"Oh, James, please, you're not going to find a switch are you?"

James laughed outright, and Mary blushed, even laughing a little herself. Where on the train would he find a switch?

"No. But I am going to spank you on your bare bottom."

James grasped at the waist of her panties while Mary wailed and tried to scramble to her feet. The struggle ended with James sitting almost cross-legged on the floor of the compartment but his right leg over Mary's legs, which effectively pinned them to the floor. Mary had only managed to get bumped around and further trapped by her struggles and now, as James pulled her panties down her thighs, she could only moan in anticipation of the sting that was to come.

Three firm spanks (Ow! Ow! Owie!) started the next flurry, right at the sit spot of her right cheek. Then James peppered her poor pink bottom with a series of spanks all over her bottom, turning it from pale pink to blushing red. Mary did not protest, though the fire in her nethers was nigh unbearable. All she could do was squirm and moan and cry.

"I hope this teaches you a lesson," James said, "about sneaking out of your dormitory at night."

Though her bottom was sore, Mary couldn't help but laugh though her tears. Soon, both of them had dissolved into giggles and the spanking was over. Mary got to her knees but had her hands under her dress, massaging at her battered cheeks. James sat with his back against the narrow bunk, one knee up. Mary noticed his jacket had come off and his shirt was unbuttoned almost halfway down.

They regarded each other, stifling the occasional giggle, Mary with tears on her cheeks and each with a smolder stoked by a shared sting.

"Hold still. I owe you this." Mary leaned into him and pressed her lips firmly against his. Her breasts pressed against him and he wrapped his arms about her waist, pulling her in close. She sat in his lap, straddling him, her warm, wet sex making a damp spot on his pants that his already aroused state strained to meet.

In a tangle of clothes and limbs, bumps and grunts, awkward groping and insistent kissing, they helped each other disrobe. They collapsed onto the bed. Mary winced as her sore bottom cheeks impacted the bed but the throbbing of her soreness stoked the fire of her loins, and when James lowered himself into the embrace of her thighs, she found herself eager for him.

Hours later, Mary laughed throatily. "Perhaps we could just share the bed?"

James nodded. "Perhaps we could."

And they fell asleep in each other's arms, James with one hand resting on the swell of Mary's hip, rubbing gently until they were both asleep, while the rhythm of the train over the tracks lulled them, inexorably to their inevitable destination.

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