Someone I Met on a Train Chapter 3

Someone I Met on a Train Chapter 3 Someone I Met on a Train Chapter 3

Status: In Progress

Genre: Romance

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Status: In Progress

Genre: Romance

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Summary

The Journey Continues

Tags

Summary

The Journey Continues

Chapter3 (v.1) - Someone I Met on a Train

Author Chapter Note

The Journey Continues

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: December 01, 2016

Reads: 228

A A A | A A A

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: December 01, 2016

A A A

A A A

'Someone I Met on a Train':

Chapter 3:

 

Although they were unable to see much, even though the moon was full that night, because the forests grew so close to the railway line, the countryside through which they were now travelling was quite a bit more even than that which they had experienced previously. This was because the journey had already weaved its way through the two mountain ranges, and they were approaching the plateau upon which Samblar, the Capital of Yesha, was situated. There were still a few hills, and more tunnels through which the train would travel, but for the most part, the land was considerably less mountainous.

 

Selena and Ernesto had decided to spend the night in his compartment. She had just finished showering when there seemed to be some sort of commotion in the next room, which happened to be her own. She peeped through a crack in the door, and saw a burly figure try and force his way into her quarters. He went inside, and then there was a racket as he appeared to lose his temper, and set about ransacking the room. Not long after that, he stormed back out again, and having stuck a piece of paper on the ruined door, headed back up the passage in the opposite direction.

 

When Selena closed the door again, she turned around, looking very pale and frightened indeed. Ernesto tried to console her, but she broke down with large gut-wrenching sobs. He attempted to ask her what was wrong, but she was so distraught that she was quite incapable of answering him, and all he could do was hold her in his arms until she eventually calmed down. Then, without saying a word, she went outside and fetched the paper the stranger had left behind. She came back into the compartment looking even more scared than before, the letter in her hand that hung limp at her side.

 

Ernesto took it from her, and began to read. It was hand-written. This is what it said: '… My dear wife. By now you should know that I have discovered your foolish attempt to escape me. Know this: You will never be beyond my reach! And yet, even now I am prepared to forgive you, as long as you will agree to return with Garshen, my servant. If you agree, then all will be forgiven. But if you do not, be assured, you will not reach your destination alive.

 

Garshen is but a messenger. Should you persist in your indolence, your next visitor will have been given instructions to bring you back by force, and kill anyone who is considered to be part of your scheme. Should he be unsuccessful, which is highly unlikely, the next will have been ordered to kill you as well. For if I cannot have you, I swear no-one else will.

 

Signed - S.N. …'

 

Ernesto was about to demand an explanation, when he saw the expression on Selena's face. It was one of utter misery. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she shook with each desperate cry. As he approached, she turned away from him, quite incapable of looking him in the face. She tried to resist as he gently made her face him, and placed his hand under her chin to lift her head.

 

She attempted to free herself from his arms, but he held her tight. At last she sobbed: “I'm sorry! I've fucked everything up, haven't I? How can I expect you to love me, now that you know that I am nothing but second-hand goods? Just when I thought that things were working out, this had to happen! Please just ...”

 

But she was unable to finish her sentence. Ernesto buried her face in his shoulder, and kissed her hair, softly saying: “It's okay. It's okay. You're with me now. I won't let anything happen to you. Hush now - you'll be okay.”

He helped her to the armchair under the window, and sat at the foot of the bed, facing her. Taking her one hand gently in his, he brushed the tears from her face, his eyes fixed on hers until she finally looked up at him once more. Although her expression was very grim, a slight twinkle had returned in her eyes. He smiled kindly at her, and she even managed a slight grin.

 

Then he said in a soft voice, so as not to cause her any more pain: “I need to know what just happened, and why. Not to hold it against you, but if I don't know what's going on, I can't help you.”

 

Selena let out a long, almost sobbing sigh, and nodded. Then she began to unburden herself: “Garshen is a servant of my soon-to-be ex-husband. It was he that wrote that letter. His name is Silas Narine, and he is a very influential man. He is also a cruel sadistic bastard! ...”

 

“Then why did you marry him?” Ernesto asked.

 

“Because I had to.” Came the reply: “My father was a doctor in Silveroaks, but he was nearing his retirement. He was afraid that he could no longer guarantee me the standard of living, to which I had become accustomed, if he were to lose his only source of income. So, just before my seventeenth birthday, he betrothed me to the only man in that town whom he thought capable of doing so. ...”

 

“Silas Narine.” He said.

 

“Yes.” Selena confirmed, “I was devastated! Just before my father had made this fucking arrangement, I had fallen in love with a young student at the local university, and we had already made plans of our own. So when my dad brought me the so-called 'Good News', I thought my life had ended right there and then. Understand this: I don't blame father for doing what he did. He thought it would be better for me, and he didn't really know what kind of man this Silas really was. Nobody did! Everybody in Silveroaks spoke so highly of him. Even I was completely unaware just how nasty he really was, otherwise I would never have gone through with the whole thing.

 

Anyway, so I agreed to marry him, and at first everything seemed to be going relatively smoothly. I even thought to myself that I might even learn to love him, given time. If you don't mind me speaking absolutely plainly - even the sex was good to start off with. …”

 

At this she blushed a little, but seeing that the expression did not seem to change on his face, she continued: “... I really thought he respected me. The change came so gradually that I hardly noticed it at first. I even felt somewhat flattered when he seemed to desire me more and more. But it was not long before I realised that something was seriously fucked up!

 

He had spoken quite a lot about wanting me to have his children, which I thought was reasonable, but then he became almost obsessed with my butt. He kept on saying how irresistible and sexy my bum was. At first I was quite thrilled. As a teenager, I always thought that my hips were a little bit scrawny, and my bum too small. So when he told me this, of course I felt that it was a compliment. And then came the first time he told me that he wanted to have anal sex with me. Having never experienced this before, I felt more than a little nervous about it, but he insisted.

 

Finally, I gave in. It was a disaster! Apart from the fact that I couldn't sit properly for a week afterwards, I felt so degraded and dirty, that I wept bitterly for the rest of the day. And then I thought: 'Well, it won't happen again. Maybe he just wanted to find out what it was like, and he won't make me do it again.'

 

But man! Was I ever wrong! Almost every time we were alone together, he forced himself into my arse over and over again. And if I protested, he would hit me until I submitted to his perverted wishes. Once I lay on my back, my legs wide open, and as he lowered himself down on me, I tried to guide him into me. But he pushed my hand away, lifted my hips, and stuck that filthy cock of his into my butt once more. Once he even threatened to kill me if I didn't do what he said!

 

Two years after we got married, my father died of cancer. That was when I began to shut down emotionally. I mean it was better than hating my bastard or a husband, or living in fear of him. So I let him have his sport with me. And then one night - we were together in the bedroom - he bent me over as he always did, but this time, instead of aiming for my butt, he entered me like any other man would. He still remarked, over and over again, about just how much he loved my arse, but at least he wasn't brutalizing it like he usually did. To my dismay, I didn't feel turned on at all, only relieved that - for now at least - I was saved from my normal ordeal.

 

With a grunt, his body on top of me, he came inside of me. Then, without so much as a murmur, he withdrew again, and left me standing there with my pants torn, and my jeans around my ankles. I was enraged! The other times, as he fucked my arse until I bled, he would tell me how much he cared for me. But now, when he had almost made love to me normally, he left without saying a single fucking word!

 

Over the next three years, we had proper sex probably less times than I can count on my fingers - I don't consider anal sex as being normal. By that time, however, I felt as though I was dying inside, if not already dead. But three and a half years later, just when I thought that nothing worse could happen, I discovered that I was pregnant. How the hell we got that right, I have no fucking idea, but I thought: 'Well, perhaps he won't treat me like some cheap whore, now that I'm carrying his child.'

 

But again, I was wrong. Now he accused me of screwing around with someone else, and denied that the baby was even his. And then one night he lost it completely! He stormed into my bedroom, by that time we no longer shared a bed, and slapped me so hard that I reeled back and landed face down on the floor. Before I had time to recover, he was on top of me, his erect cock inside my butt for the last time. Despite my begging him to get off me, for the sake of our unborn child, he carried on pounding away. At last he stood up, and began jerking himself off until I felt his cum all over the small of my back.

 

All he said to me was: “You fucking slut!” And then he stormed out again! ...”

 

“Good God!” Exclaimed Ernesto, wanting to add something else, but she put her finger to his lips, and said: “Hush - I've almost finished.” And then carried on.

 

“... Two days later, I awoke with the most terrible pain I have ever had in my life. The servants came to clean my room. I was very fond of both of them, especially Camilla, who was no more than a girl. I told her to arrange for the doctor who had been looking after me since I found out that I was pregnant.

 

She saw the look on my face, and knew that it was very urgent indeed. She sped off without saying another word. Luckily the doctor's rooms were only a few blocks away, and she was able to get back to me immediately. But, by the time she arrived, I knew that I was in serious trouble. She led me to the sofa in the middle of the room, and then it happened! My waters broke!

 

 

 

 

'This can't be happening!' I cried, 'It's only just gone four months!' But it was happening! I was having a miscarriage. Despite the doctor's best attempts, the foetus came out. And then came the shock to beat all! She was already dead! Yes, the fucking bastard had killed my unborn daughter! ...”

 

Again Ernesto tried to say something, his eyes filled with tears, but again she stopped him. “That was the day when I decided that the only thing to do was to run away. Doctor Torres insisted that I remain in bed for at least four days after I lost the child. I agreed to her demands, but under one condition: That she help me escape. I knew that if I tried to do anything myself, Silas would find out and try to stop me. It took almost a month and a half for me to get over what had happened to me, but at least I was left alone for that time.

 

I was aware that this truce would not last for long, and that he would soon be back to abuse me again, as if nothing had happened. So, one afternoon, I sent my other handmaiden, whose name was Tara, on an errand. She was in her late teens, but old enough to pass as an adult. I gave her my bank-card, along with a letter of authorisation, and told her to draw out everything I had, down to my last penny. She was to go to the ticket office near the doctor's rooms, and book me a seat on this train. Destination - Cathan.

 

She said that she would try, and three days later, returned with the news that the train was fully booked for the next two months, but she had been able to reserve me a place then. I slowly recovered from the miscarriage, physically that is - I doubt whether I will ever be psychologically healed, not for a long time at least.

 

The whole incident seemed to give Silas a shock, and he was at least civil towards me, if not affectionate at times. But I could not bare to have him anywhere near me. Without him knowing - he never set foot in my room after the night that he raped me - I packed as much as I could manage in a single trip. I arranged for a cab to take me from Silveroaks to Lianthorn, and arrived two days before I was scheduled to board the train. It cost me almost the rest of my money to stay in a dingy hotel until the other day, when we met at the platform.

 

And now that bastard is pissed because I had the courage to walk out on him. Something I should have done long ago! He'll have to drag my fucking corpse back to that prison that he called home! I would rather die than ever see his smug fucking face again!”

 

By the time she had said these last words, her face had changed again. Far from being distraught and despondent, she now looked defiant and even proud once more. Her whole body shook with rage until she saw Ernesto's face soften to a smile despite his tears.

 

“Oh God - What the fuck am I going to do?” She implored, lifting his hand to her cheek as if seeking solace in its warmth.

 

He leaned forward, and said in a calm reassuring voice: “You mean: 'What are we going to do.' You're not alone any more Selena, and come hell or high water, you will never be alone. I promise you that.”

 

She looked incredulously into his young face, and was about to say something in protest. She had become so sure that he would despise her, that she found it hard to believe that he did not think of her as 'second-hand goods' at all.

 

 

 

As she looked at him, his face softened even more, and he smiled his usual disarming smile. And then, at last, she saw the truth. He still loved her, perhaps even more so now that he knew the whole story! He seemed to be able to read her thoughts, and nodded as if in agreement. Without saying another word, they both stood up, put their arms around one another, and kissed. She nestled her head under his chin, and sighed, feeling all the fear, the tension, and the sadness ebb away from her. In her heart she repeated his assuring words: “Come hell or high water, you will never be alone.”

 

They slowly headed for the bed, with his back to it. As he felt the back of his knees touch it, Selena slowly lowered her lover onto the soft mattress. She unbuttoned his shirt, and pulled down his pants until they were on the floor around his ankles. Almost in a dance, she stripped before him, until all she wore was her panties, and smiled as she saw his reaction. Then she knelt at the side of his bed, and took his already excited cock in her hand. She put it between her cleavage, and pursed her breasts together. Slowly she moved up and down the warm shaft.

 

He found himself lost in the silkiness and tenderness of her warm skin, and her rhythmic movements, echoed by the gentle rocking of the train, made the experience even more intense. Selena watched, a dreamy smile coming over her face, as his body reacted to her attentions. His hips began to rise and fall in time with her movements, and his mouth opened as he groaned in pleasure. In vain he tried to reach out and touch her, but his arms could not stretch that far. And so, with his hands clutching the metal bars of the headboard behind him, he resigned himself to the magic of the moment.

 

Each time his eyes opened, he could see her smiling at him, her dark brown eyes gleaming in the moonlight like smouldering embers. As Selena sensed that his climax was near, she stopped. Her one hand went down and cupped his balls, while she used her other thumb to gently stroke the sensitive part just under his glans. His hips jerked off the mattress as he felt himself reach the absolute pinnacle of pleasure. Just before he came, she took him into her mouth. He groaned as he felt her warm tongue curl around his member, and his gism rush down her throat. Then she lifted her head, and smiled at him while the last shiver of pleasure rushed through his body.

 

She put her head on his tummy, and felt his breathing return to normal, while he ran his fingers through her hair. They seemed to doze off for a brief moment, and as he stirred again, he felt her mouth working up and down him once more. To his surprise, his cock responded to her attention, and fairly sprung back to life. As she looked up at him and smiled, a trickle of pre-cum came off her lips. Her eyes closed, and her smile widened.

 

Selena allowed him to move until he was properly on the bed. She stood up, and looking down at him, removed her panties. This allowed him a clear view of the tender cleft between her dark triangle of hair. As he watched, her one hand cupped her breast, while the other parted the delicate lips of that magical cleft, and she pushed her finger inside her. Slowly she lowered herself, guiding him into her as the head of his rampant organ touched her. When she felt the whole shaft fill her, she began to rise and fall in a slow, mesmerising rhythm, her hands holding him on either side of his hips.

 

His gaze moved from her tender thighs, to the strong muscles of her torso, and up until they lingered on her sensual breasts, eventually resting on that beautiful face, sensual mouth, and liquid brown eyes that sparkled as they smiled down at him. Perspiration trickled down her body, leaving glistening rivulets on her skin, and her long brown hair hung down in drenched tresses over her shoulders.

 

 

 

After some time, she stopped, turned around so that she faced in the opposite direction, pushed him inside her, and continued her movements, almost without breaking her rhythm. As he had the first time they made love, he was able to admire her strong but curvaceous butt as it rose and fell before him. Gradually her movements became somewhat erratic, and he felt her inner muscles grip his member so tightly that she could hardly move, but only rock back and forth. This pushed him to new heights of sweet rapture, and Ernesto began to groan in response, his own strong hips taking up the rhythm.

 

Breathlessly, he whispered: “Darling, I'm going to cum.”

 

This time she stopped, and allowed him to withdraw. He was only just in time, and she let out a cry of delight as his cock jerked, ejecting strand after white strand into the air, and coating her with its warm wetness. With her hand, she coaxed every last drop out of him, and only let go when his member began to go limp again.

 

They had a late shower together, and took turns washing each other. The cubicle was very small, and this made the whole thing rather difficult, but both of them felt that it was all part of the fun. They laughed together as they tried to manoeuvre around one another, and Selena cried out when a sudden jolt of the train sent the cake of soap skidding onto the wet slippery floor. Ernesto stepped back, and put his foot right on top of it. If the shower had been any bigger, he might have even hurt himself. As it was, he merely lurched forward into his lover's arms.

 

At last they were back in bed. For the moment at least, it seemed that the nightmare that they experienced earlier that evening had all but been forgotten. Tired but happy, both of them fell asleep in each other's arms as the train rumbled its steady way through the night, towards their next port-of-call, which was the city of Usanaar.

 

Although not as expansive as Samblar, Usanaar was Yesha's third largest city. It made Galan look like a small town by comparison. Selena remembered it with more than a little fondness, because she and her father had often stayed there while he was doing one of his internships or attending lectures at the university, at which some of the best doctors had graduated, including Doctor Adamar, her father. She recalled the times when he used to take her shopping, and that there was one place that she liked better than all the rest. It was an ice cream parlour that made the most delectable cones she had ever tasted, before or since.

 

Since she married Silas, she was never allowed to even leave their large home alone. Either he, or one of his servants, had to go with her, and she had to give an account of where she had been. This made her feel that she was in a prison rather than a home, and added to her misery.


© Copyright 2017 Tristan Biggs. All rights reserved.

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