The Macabre Train Part 3 by Lady Panther

The woman presses the blade harder into his base briefly and then releases it.  She nods to the sub to continue the long strokes before looking back to the Lady flogging him.  The woman with the blade drags it in an X across his chest, opening his skin as the cut now slowly seeps blood. The lady behind lands her strokes harder on his back.

“Aww, you ladies are far too nice to this poor man.” Another woman stands up and moves toward him.  She smacks his covered face with one hand while tracing the blade strokes with her fingernail, further agitating the fresh wound.  She pulls the sub off of the man and points for them to return back to their Mistress.  She turns to one of the passengers who then gives a glass of wine to her.

“Perhaps we can make this hurt more. What do you think of that?!” she states with a firm, resolute timbre to her voice. “Perhaps some acid? We need to mark you well, after all.”

The man shakes his head violently, and grunts and moans in vehement protest to the woman’s words. His panic increases as he continues to wonder what he’d done to provoke such actions from such fiendish women.  Is this a train filled with his exes?  He suddenly realizes, in his body’s greed, his other senses had betrayed him and it has seemed to recognize the voices who have spoken thus far.  He struggles to think if he’s wronged these particular women.

The woman dips a Q-tip in the glass to gather the wine.  She slowly traces the wounds with the wetness that stings him.  He feels his flesh seeming to burn away.  He recoils, his mind so convinced of the liquid being acid, trying desperately to get away from this evil woman in front of him.  He pulls his noose even tighter as he struggles.  The weakening muscles in his outstretched arms and legs begin to fail him.  He tries to summon his strength and straighten back up, but his efforts do not release the grip of the noose nor minimize the pain on his chest.

His pain, suffering, and panic so great he doesn’t even notice the strokes on his back have been replaced with soft hands rubbing him as he struggles. A new woman’s voice whispers in his ear while the wine, continuing to be traced along his knife wounds, still tricks his mind. “Easy, boy. Your suffering has its rewards. Don’t give out on us now. Surely you have more strength and will than this.” The words are encouraging and his body responds in kind.  He doubles his efforts to work through the pain.  He measures his breathing and concentrates on the soft touches and soothing voice of this new woman.

The evil acid woman moves off of her tortures of him and sits quietly while yet another lady moves in front of him.  Finding his stiffness withering, she grasps him from behind herself and slowly guides him into her supple folds.  Her sex, enwrapping only the top of his length, uses his head to massage her clitoris as she slides herself over him. Watching his increasing torture put her in such a state of wonton lust.

He moans from the pleasurable reprieve.  Feeling her heat and wetness coating him as she moves reawakens his desires to please.  He tries to move his hips to relocate himself at her entrance.  She evades teasingly.  His frustration grows in parallel to his desire to penetrate her.  To feel her so close, to hear her moans of pleasure overtakes his pain suddenly.  He feels her climax as her body stiffens over him. He feels the quivers and pulsations of her sex, yet he doesn’t dare to move, though everything in his body wants this. Satisfied, she returns to standing and facing him. “Good boy!” she says as she walks away.

 “Ladies and gentlemen, now that the appetizer had been served, time to move on to the main course,” she says with a smile. He hears the familiar sounds of the heels from earlier as they walk behind him.  He hears the “swish” of some implement and thinks ‘no, not more pain after such pleasure.’ He whimpers and hangs his head, feeling this night will never end and not knowing how much he can take of this tease and denial mixed with blood and acid.

Another lady walks behind him close while another positions herself in front of him.  The lady in the front grasps him firmly from behind herself and slides him completely into herself.  His hips move to press into her.  She presses back into him taking full control of the steady pace.  His length fills her deliciously.  Her breathing increases as her walls flutter around him.  Her moans grow louder as she continues to ride this helpless soul.

The lady behind him begins to rub his ass, feeling it flex and relax as he pleases her friend.  The lady massages his anus with her fingers, pressing, but not entering, his hole. He tenses with apprehension at a sensation of pleasure but thoughts of inexperience.  She presses her finger inside and he grunts from the thoughts swimming in his head.

His head falls back again, the pleasure of being encased into the warm depths of a woman and the pain from being penetrated. ‘Are they raping me? Not the lady in the front, of course not, but the one in the back, this is rape, I don’t want this, I’m not gay!’ his thoughts go on despite his body’s delight at every sensation.

As if reading his mind, the voice from the back of him says, “Don’t worry, you will enjoy this!” she splits his crack with thumb and forefinger of one hand while gently and slowly guiding a lubricated, vibrating dildo inside him, the vibrations turned off for now as he gets used to the sensation of it sliding further into his depths.  Slowly she lets it fill him and pulls it back out slightly then presses it back in.  Her strap on securing it to her own body allows her freedom of movement with them.

Her strokes begin to match her friend's in the front until they are all moving together.  His grunts and her moans blend so nicely with the noises of the train. The other passengers sit and watch with smiles of appreciation on their faces, their subs all wishing they were the victim at this point.

The lady in the back wraps her arms around the man, finding his wounds and rubbing them softly, recreating the pain from earlier. As he winces she moves to his nipples and, leading with her fingernails, pinches them hard, causing him to buck forward and tightening his noose even more, his breathing hard, his senses higher than he’s ever experienced before.

The lady in the front pants and rides him faster as she nears her own orgasm.  Her walls clamp down on him, quivering, pulsating, and massaging him while his prostate is being happily assaulted.  The sensations overwhelm him and drive his need to spill his seed.

Sensing this, the ladies cease suddenly, leaving him even more frustrated than before.  As they move away, one last, very patient woman walks in behind him. “You’ve had your pleasure and your pain, now you will have your death,” she threatens. His brain doesn’t even register this as it’s so drained from all he’s experienced thus far.