By railroad standards, I'm still a new boy. I joined in '56 so that's what... twelve years service, this Fall.

It suits me, being a freight guard. On some railroads I'd be called a flagman or conductor, all means the same thing - I'm the guy on the train who don't have the pay and cushy life of the engineer up front! I don't mind the unsocial hours so much now there's nobody to have my supper ready when I get home. It's steady work and I don't know what else I could do now.

There's a lot more to it than just sitting drinking coffee in the caboose at the tail end of a mile of box cars. Swinging buckeyes, screwing down brakes, keeping the couplings tight as the train takes the grades, not to mention traipsing miles up and down the cinders, checking labels or securing cars or whatever - I get my share of exercise, and I get to see enjoy a goodly portion of the south-eastern part of the US of A at a sedate 25 miles per hour!

No, it's a good life, being a cinder cruncher.

In case you don't know the term, a caboose is a car or wagon placed at the end of the train, and the freight guard rides in it. The ones on our railroad are old but functional, with a desk and chair for doing your papers, a couple bunks, a cubicle with a john and washbasin, and a stove in the corner. There's a balcony at each end and a cupola, which is a sort of raised-up piece of roof so as you can climb up a small ladder inside the caboose and sit up there to look forward over the tops of the cars along the train.

It ain't luxury, especially in winter, but I can think of plenty worse places to work.

Even the bums ain't much trouble these days. I have my regulars; know where they like to hop on and off; which types of car they prefer. Side-door Pullmans, we call 'em. It's not often I have to get heavy with those guys. We mostly have an 'understanding'. OK, so there's the occasional young buck needs threatening with a pickaxe handle - mostly conscription dodgers heading North over the border now that Johnson's increased the draft again. Can't abide them myself - I had to do my spell of Service in Korea so why can't they?

Is what I say, anyways.

So I had no qualms afterwards about shifting suspicion to one of them - very subtle, like - spinning a line to the deputy when he took my statement a couple days after the girl disappeared. Looking all thoughtful and making up some crap about seeing some long-haired young dude diving under a boxcar at the loop.

Oh, Jeez, officer - you don't think he had anything to do with the girl who disappeared? If only I had chased the asshole at the time; I feel so responsible...

So this wet-behind-the-ears deputy nods and writes it all down and agrees with my theory. And I ain't heard nothing else since.

I sometimes wonder where she is right now. Only the other day, I overheard a hobo bragging to another one about her, so I got a pretty good idea.

Between you and me, she brought it on herself though - she should have been more respectful, shouldn't she?

She's learned her lesson now though! Good and proper.

These youngsters today, they don't got the manners we had when we was that age. Jeez, when I was 12, I called all grown-ups "sir" or "ma'am", and I spoke only when I was invited. And I did as I was told and if I didn't, then I expected to get a smack about the head or the belt if it was bad. Shit, we all did.

But not little miss high and mighty. Oh no. Reckoned she could talk to me like I was some piece of dirt. And her coming from some one-horse town called Nowheresville!

She won't do that no more, the little slut.

No, Sir.

Where she is now, if that hobo was telling the truth to his buddy, you don't get any lower in the pecking order: He was saying she was down Fort Worth way, chained up in some foul shack next the river, past the cripple yard, getting laid by every passing lowlife and wetback in exchange for a few scraps of food. Bet she ain't so full of herself now is she, eh?

Not that I know anything about that, mind. I seen and heard nothing. Ever.

What I'm telling you now; it's just 'tween you and me, OK?

It was an evening like any other this time of year. Hot enough to twist the rails, I can tell you. The heat had been building up real bad all day and it was like a furnace and steamy when we set out, so I was grateful for a bit of breeze when we got up on the Cumberland Plateau. But a reefer about two-thirds back was running a hot box on the descent and Dispatch pulled us off so we could cut it out. Whiteoak Loop don't get used much these days and I'd never worked a train there. Takes a lot of walking when you're cutting a car out the center of a long train and I was working up a lather tramping back and forth.

She was watching me.

Sitting on a five-bar and licking an ice lollipop. While I was sweating my nuts off down on the track.

Flimsy little gingham dress and dusty sneakers and her hair parted down the middle and pulled into two bunches, looking like Judy Garland playing Dorothy. I guessed she came from the small cluster of houses about a half mile away over the rise. Their rooftops were silhouetted by the setting sun.

"Spare a lick, Miss?" I asked her, friendly like, third time I went by.

I shalln't tell you what she said, but it weren't polite nor respectful and she screwed up her cute little face when she said it. Maybe that was what she thought was flirting - I don't rightly know, except I didn't like it.

Anyways, I ignored her and went back to throw the switch now we'd set the defective car into the blind road. Then all I had to do was couple up the two remaining sections of the train and I could signal the engineer we were ready to go. He would be having his feet up in the cab, reading the newspaper and taking full advantage of the electric fan. I'm not saying who it was on that turn, but let's just say he's one senior Eagle-Eye you don't mess with any more than you need.

She was standing right behind me. Nearly stepped back on her foot.

"Hey watch what you're doing, stupid!" she yelped.

I tried keeping cool. I told her politely to keep off railroad property and out the way of the train, but she was spoiling for a fight. Lord knows what had gotten into her that evening - never did figure it out - but for some reason known only to her, she was just determined to make a nuisance of herself. At my expense.

She had this defiant look in her eye and each time I went to get past her, she stepped in my way - she could have made cornerback, that one!

Now I don't cuss as a rule but she was taxing me sorely and I said, "For the love of Christ, girl, will you just go back home and let me do my job?"

"Phew, you stink!" she replied, stepping back, holding her nose.

We had already lost forty minutes and if I didn't get a move on, we'd be too late to get out before the 'Three States' and then we'd be stuck there 'til after ten-thirty, so I was getting somewhat cross by this stage. So I went to get past and she stuck out her tongue and I remember it was bright green from the ice popsicle. She tried blocking me again but this time she tripped on a track tie and instinctively I reached out and grabbed her before she fell and yet she didn't even acknowledge that I had saved her from tipping backwards.

"Get your filthy hands off of me, you disgusting, dirty man!"

Then she kicked me on the shin.

It didn't hurt a jot but it took me so much by surprise I let her go and at that precise moment, when we were both off-balance, she tried to pull away and she hit the dirt real hard. And her head caught the corner of the tie.

That was all I needed.

I crouched and pulled off my gloves and carefully checked her head. She was out cold but there was no blood and she was breathing. The engineer was clicking the radio impatiently and I was in no mood to try explaining to him how some dumb little girl was holding up his train.

So I picked her up and put her over my shoulder and called him to start setting back.

When the cars slammed together, I had to put her down while I sorted the brake lines but I was no nearer working out what to do. And I was so mad. I've not had much exposure to kids and if this one was typical, then I was thankful. I was fuming with the way she had behaved and, I admit, more than a tad concerned with my reputation had my macho colleagues found out how I had been given the runaround by five foot nothing of potty-mouthed girl.

Still in a quandary, I began walking back to my caboose. I glanced over towards the roofs of the houses. She was flopped over my shoulder and still unconscious. I could just leave her there but then what?

For all I knew, the stupid little bitch might have run home, making up some fantastic tale and shit, as my greasy gloves had already made a couple oily paw prints on her dress and the back of her thighs.

I took a sideways look at her. At my grimy leather glove clamped across the smooth whiteness of her smooth, skinny legs. At the thin, cheap dress pulled tight over the trim firmness of her tight ass. She stirred and gave a quiet moan, followed by a cough. I smiled.

Now I knew what I was going to do.

When I carried her up into the caboose, I pushed off her sneakers and laid her carefully down on the rough blanket of the lower bunk, her eyes were already half-open, though she was frowning and clearly not yet come round. I felt the back of her head and there was a small swelling beneath her hair but she had been lucky and not broken the skin. Though her luck had run out.

For my intention was to give her a good spanking. What the pastor would say, 'instilling a little respect'.

Over my knee, holding her down and tanning her cute little ass until she cried. I doubted I could get her to say she was sorry, but it would be retribution of sorts and by the time I had done it, we would be about to clear the loop and I could safely drop her off as we would be doing barely a slow walking pace by then. And a goodly dose of old-fashioned discipline should ensure she kept her mouth shut.

Yep! That's what I would do.

The radio crackled and we confirmed pressure and agreed right-away.

That gave me about four minutes to give her a quick telling off, put her over my lap and treat her to a dozen short, sharp slaps.

I was trying to think of the right words and got up to gather her off the bunk, where she was prone and blinking and now wide awake again. But she was too quick for me. Suddenly she leapt up and swung her feet over the side of the bunk and was dashing for the door to the balcony.

I just managed to close my hand around her arm as she flew by me and at that precise moment, the last coupling took the strain and the caboose jerked forwards, taking us off our feet.

Perhaps I should have given up at that point. Have let her go and allowed her to jump off and run home.

But we fell together and landed on the floor of the caboose and her dress was right up her skinny young legs and I found myself staring at the bulge of her pussy straining inside a dainty pair of powder blue panties and I felt her hot, smooth skin in my palm and saw the moment of fear in her face. And then it was too late.

Change of plan: she was going to ride the rails with me all the way down to Chattanooga.

And I wasn't going to let her off with just a little smacking.

If she had been playing some dumb game of her own up until then, she could have been in no doubt that it was now over. I wasn't in any mood for games. Yet again she had nearly got one over on me and I was mighty pissed. I grabbed her wrist and hauled her back to the bunk and pushed her down. Then I threw the bolts on the door and faced her. And now she didn't look so pleased with herself. Her big blue eyes, as bright as her cute little panties, were big and wide and getting tearful and her thin pink lips had lost the cocky sneer and the lower one was just beginning to tremble. Not surprising when she had six foot and 190 pounds of hot, angry, dusty, unsmiling man bearing down on her.

"P..please, Mister..."

She wasn't expecting the stinging slap across her pretty little face.

But it worked. She shut up then, apart from the blubbing. Then she cried out, her fear very genuine, when I pulled her back upright.

I hadn't fully decided what I was going to do, but then her dress was gaping at the side, and I caught just the slightest peek at her little pink nipple and my cock started swelling and there was no turning back.

The run down to Chattanooga was always quiet. I had nothing to do except listen to the radio and keep an eye on the brake pressure. We were mostly carrying empties and it was a clear run for about an hour and half. With a light train and a long, gentle gradient, I wasn't going to have to assist with the braking.

Plenty of time to teach some manners to a brat from Hickstown.

"OK missy - play time's over. I don't know what the heck you was thinking back there, cheeking me like that, but I ain't standing for it. You were trespassing on railroad property and you're in serious trouble."

She sat up, hunched, staring miserably at me and rubbing the back of her head. So tiny and frightened. The caboose clattered over the switch as we quit the loop and I sensed the train begin to pick up speed. I clicked the radio twice, to let the engineer know and I heard the distant wail of the horns in response.

Good. Now to business.

I meant just to pull her to her feet, but she was so small and light I picked her right up. She was alarmed to feel my strong fingers around her ribs.

But now her bravado was gone. She was a tiny, frightened kid, and having her in my hands, I felt this massive surge of an emotion I hadn't experienced for years. I set her down on her bare feet and went round the caboose, pulling down the blinds. Her eyes followed me nervously. Casually, over my shoulder as I tugged the final blind, I growled at her.

"You got ten seconds to get that dress off or I'll do it for you."

No reaction.

Until I swung round and took a step toward her.

A button popped off in her haste to wrench the dress over her head. It arced across the caboose and rolled under the small desk. I suppressed a smile.

She was terrified. My sudden anger had taken her by surprise.

And the more she tried tugging, the worse it got. The dress was stuck about her head and she was frantically trying to disentangle it from her hair. I took in her legs and those tiny little blue panties and the flat of her stomach. So young and small and smooth.

"Stand still!" I yelled. "Put your arms straight up."

She did it instantly.

I grasped the screwed-up material and eased it over her head. The stupid little kid hadn't undone the buttons in her panic. I tossed it aside. She moved to bring down her hands in a belated attempt to preserve her modesty.

"Did I tell ya you could do that?" I barked. "Get 'em back up. Now!"

She shot her hands high into the air. The caboose jinked and she wobbled and despite the stifling heat building up with the windows and blinds shut, her skin puckered into goosebumps and I could tell she was trembling beneath.

And inside my shorts, my cock was fit to burst.

Now I could take a good look at her little tits, pulled up taut, with the nipples stretched into soft, protruding oblongs of delicate rose pink. She was just about ready for a brassiere but I was delighted she wasn't wearing one. I was going to have a little fun with those little bumps.

In one of the cupboards was all I needed to restrain her properly.

I probably didn't need to. After all, the caboose door was bolted and we were trundling along well, so she wouldn't have gotten far, but I wanted to keep here where I wanted her. I had no shortage of choice. Chains and padlocks for securing boxcars; several coils of rope of various lengths and thicknesses; and even some canvas or web straps.

But I chose the leather straps from the emergency stretcher. Not dissimilar to narrow leather belts, they were ideal for the job.

Her arms were tiring. I glared at her.

"Stand there and keep your hands up above your head. Go on - right up!" I ordered.

I passed one end through the buckle and formed a loop, then took her hands and tightened the loop round her wrists, I looked down at her coldly, and as her tears dribbled down her flushed cheeks, I felt the tension in my guts and the dryness in my throat. The free end of the strap I passed around the side of the upper bunk, pulling it tight and hauling her up until she was almost suspended and each time the caboose jolted, she had to fight to keep her balance.

Again, she summoned the courage to speak. To beg for her release.

And I rounded on her and gripped her jaw in strong fingers and held her face close to mine and seethed.

"I shalln't tell ya again. Shut that goddamned mouth of yours. Or I'll shut it permanently."

She swallowed hard and her cute little face crumpled and she sobbed.

And I loved it.

"No use you crying, missy. Too late for that now."

My hands were busy. I wanted to feel those soft little tits in my palms and push the bunches of hair back from those narrow shoulders and enjoy the sweetness of her tiny waist encircled by my big old paws I slipped my fingers under the elastic of her panties. She started and our eyes met and suddenly she knew that it was more than a scare I was going to give her. More than a punishment. A glaze of horror descended over those wet, blue eyes and her mouth gaped in helpless, suppressed protest as she felt the tiny scrap of cloth being inched slowly over her ass and down her legs.

She gasped at the touch of my hand over her pussy. I edged her knees apart and snaked my fingers round under her groin and curled the middle finger into the crease of her ass and pressed the hot, sweaty indentation of her asshole. Looking her in the face as I did it. Absorbing the thrill of the gamut of emotions playing in her head.

I slid my finger upwards, pushing her soft, hairless little labia aside and seeking out the miniscule hole and slowly, deliberately, I hooked the end and wiggled and pushed and she was frozen in horror, gasping as I slid the very tip steadily up into her most private place.

She was shaking her head in silent misery, mouthing a plea that was always going to be ignored. A warm, very wet, tear landed on my forearm and I leaned over her and stuck out my tongue and scooped the salty trickle from her cheek.

Then I stood back from her and she raised her head and for a brief moment, a flicker of hope shone through the tears. Only to be replaced by the creases of fear as she realized I was unthreading the belt from the loops of my trousers.

My purposeful leer was intended to spook her and it sure did.

"No. Mister. I..."

Inside the caboose, her scream was shrill and raw, but there was no danger of its escaping the thick walls or rising above the clank of the wheels and constant rumble of steel wheel on steel rail.

It looked like she was dancing there, strung up from the top bunk by the strapping; her tiny, naked body bobbing around as the pain across the front of her thighs flashed through her.

"Nooooo, please..... arrrgggh!"

I loosed another swing, this time the two inch wide strip of leather snapped against the side of her upper leg, just below the hip. It was so good. The skin reddened so quickly. She was gasping for air and the spittle foamed on her lips. I took her by the waist and twisted her round to face the bunk and for the first time, I enjoyed the sight of her sweet ass, hard, muscular and narrow and surely begging to feel the belt.

Which it did. Again and again. Close range, designed to shock and sting more than hurt properly. But certainly nowhere near as hard as I had been thrashed when I was a boy, though I suppose I only got four or six at a time.

I wasn't settling for that; not a quick and brutal hiding. Oh no.

No- she and I deserved more than that. A prolonged session, making her suffer. To feel the pain and start wailing then just as she got her breath back, whipping her all over again.

Keeping her guessing when the next one was coming and where it was going to be. Stopping to touch her and feel her up.

And taking time out to stroke my rock-hard cock.

Over and over, I snapped the supple leather against her exposed bottom, till both cheeks glowed a rich red and the skin was raised and shiny and there were even a some spots of blood where too many strokes had landed and the edge had bitten into her skin.

Half hour? Forty minutes?

I weren't counting.

She was hanging limply from the strap. There was precious little strength left in her stick-thin legs. Her lilywhite body was glossy with sweat, tinged a ghostly blue from the stark lighting in the caboose. Her hair was matted where it clung to her shoulders and her head was bowed. She sobbed fitfully, though there were few tears left to cry and her entire body juddered and trembled. I crouched and gentled her around, so that I could take a good look. I danced my fingers over the throbbing welts at the back of her thighs and buttocks and knelt down and turned her right round until her hot little pussy was standing proud before me and I reached to it and eased apart the fleshy lips and pressed my tongue hard into the musky cleft, running my hand around her behind and pulling her against my face.

She winced and moaned and lolled. And her little girl cunt tasted just fine.

I was truly thinking some really unwholesome thoughts but with the worst possible timing, the radio chirped and I was suddenly jolted back into the real world.

Most of the guards would take a nap on the long descent from Cumberland and it was SOP for the engineer to blip the radio as a wake-up call, when the train re-entered civilization. Or what passed for that a dozen miles out of Chattanooga.

I checked my watch - we had made such good time. Of all the nights to do it! No way could I avoid my train duties now.

Placing my lips close to her ear, I whispered.

"How you feeling now, kid? Sore I hope. I don't think you'll be disrespecting any grown-ups for a while will ya?"

"I said will ya!!"

She let out a miserable, exhausted moan and tried feebly to shake her head. I couldn't resist the temptation to cup one of those hard little titties in my palm.

"Well that was just for starters, missy. That was your punishment. You still got to make amends. Think on that. Are you truly sorry?"

Again, through her haze of pain and tiredness, she willed herself to nod and groan a weak 'yes'.

"Then while I'm working, you think what you can do to show me how real sorry you are. So as I don't turn you in. Or take my belt to your sweet little ass again."

I reached up to release the strap. Her fingertips were blue-white from so long being drained of blood plus the clawing at the leather as she fought the pain of the belt. She fell against me and when I loosened the loop around her lower arms, I saw the flesh of her wrists was deep pink and chafed. I manhandled her on to the bunk, rolling her on her front and she moaned at the roughness of the blanket on her soft, glistening skin.

Too weak to move, she lay still, panting deeply, emitting the occasional moan of a wounded animal. I selected a suitable coil of rope from the restraints locker and returned to the bunk to make her nice and secure.

At first I was simply planning to bind her wrists and ankles and stuff a rag in her mouth but seeing her tiny, naked body prone on the blanket, with her ass glowing red and her hair splashed around her head, I wanted to do more.

It was going to be another hour at least before I would sign off and could get back to her, and she didn't deserve to be comfortable, waiting. So I folded her knees and bent her legs back until her dusty feet touched her ass and yanked her arms from underneath her and held them behind her at the wrist and wrapped the thin rope round her wrists and ankles, binding her like a skinny little pink piglet.

"That should keep ya out of harm's way for a while. Say, what's your name, anyway?"

Tearfully, she whispered something.

"What'd you say?" I replied, tightening the knot and tidying the loose ends.

"Ellie," she croaked.

Then I lifted her out and deposited her up on the top bunk, flipping her over so that her legs and arms were trapped under her body and she groaned at the fresh wave of pain that attacked her abused and aching young body. Her legs spread naturally, being tied like that, but for good measure I took my poncho roll and jammed it between her knees, forcing them wide aside and ensuring her inner thigh muscles were straining and her tiny pussy was fully on show.

Each time the caboose jinked and jumped, her body pressed down on her limbs and strained her knees and the tender rawness of her backside was ground into the musty, itchy blanket.

She began to blubber.

So I furled my neckerchief into a thin roll and held her jaw, pulling her teeth apart and stretching it across her mouth, tying it off nice and tight behind her head. That worked - smothering any more sounds coming from her throat.

I even picked up her sneakers and carefully rolled them into her dress to form a pillow for her bruised head. I'm all heart, me.

Job done. Great. Now to get the train to bed. Before I could finish having my fun with her.

Fortunately, this was one of the most straightforward of rosters, in that we just had to place the train in a receiving road: the switchers would work through the night to sort and place the cars - spotting it's called. I had no great concern leaving her on the bunk whilst I knocked off the buckeyes and the engineer ran the locomotive round to collect my caboose. I do my paperwork as it happens and so apart from writing up the car with the hot box that we'd left in the loop, all I had to do was sign off the consist and log and take the papers to the yard office.

I reached up and stroked the tip of my finger up and down her sweet cunny before I left.

"Hope you've come up with some great ideas on how you're going to show me exactly how sorry you are."

She groaned limply and her tear-encrusted eyes implored me to show mercy.

No way.

I locked the caboose door. Just in case.

Throughout signing off, I was cool and calm. I joined in the guys' banter in the locker room, even stopped for a smoke with my Supervisor, but declined the offer of a beer after. All the time, I was yearning to return to the caboose.

I brought my truck into the yard and weaved over the tracks, pulling up alongside the caboose. Strictly against railroad regulations but I was hardly being a good company man today was I?

Though it was now getting on for midnight, the air was still uncomfortably hot and heavy and where the sparse floodlights illuminated the yard, the heat was still shimmering up from the tracks. My caboose was stabled in the road furthest from the access track, dark and silent. I glanced about me before I hauled myself up on the balcony. I doubted there would be any other railroad staff about till dawn and even then the cars for the early turns had probably already been marshaled by the switchers.

As for the 'bo chasers, well they've mostly been laid off and the two still left never seemed to find the time to leave the Gas House once the Y.M. went home.

I could afford to take a little time. Whatever else, she was already going to be missed back home, so what difference would another hour make?

Though the caboose had its own battery electrics, I had connected the shore supply anyway and so once I had the door open, I switched on the lights. They seemed so bright after the dark of the yard. If anybody had noticed the odd shaft of light escaping from the blind, they'd automatically assume it was a guard who had decided to hay down late or early. We wouldn't be disturbed.

Ellie cocked her head, straining to see who had entered.

But even before that, she was grunting into the neckerchief and rolling from side to side, to attract attention.

Then she saw me and her look turned to horror and I smiled and bolted the door.

"Missed me, munchkin?" I taunted, ignoring her and going into the small water closet cubicle. I had already freshened up and changed back in the locker room under the yard office, and brought back a wad of towels and soap, so she could get a little cleaned up as well.

Her delicate little body was slippery with perspiration as I lifted her bodily down from the bunk, supporting her carefully under her thighs and shoulders, as she was of course still hog-tied behind her back. Her long, damp hair clung to my fresh t-shirt. It took some juggling, but I'm a pretty big guy and I managed easily enough to set her face down across my legs, with me sitting on the chair from the caboose desk.

There are legends and tales of the railroad, but somehow I doubted anything quite like this had ever occurred in a caboose. On this line anyways.

She tried squirming but there wasn't much she could do, tied like that: moving a leg pulled down on her arms and shoulders, and vice-versa. And any movement at all was bound to hurt, after all that time with her limbs squashed under her and the skin of her ass smarting and throbbing from the belting. And of course she must be nursing a sore head from when she fell over and knocked herself out. So she flopped over my thighs and moaned a bit and I just looked down at that scrawny body of hers and stroked her skin and enjoyed the feeling of having her press down on me.

I could so more or less whatever I wanted. And as I slipped my fingers down between her legs and explored the hot, damp crease of her little pussy, I reckoned the night had turned out all right in the end.

She could maybe wrap them pretty little lips round my cock for a while then I'd put her in my truck and drop her off close to home.

Yep. That would do it.

I unraveled the rope from her and she cried into the neckerchief when the tension was taken off her legs and they could straighten out and the circulation and feeling came back. I bent forward and spoke quietly to the back of her head.

"Right, missy, listen up. I'm going to set you down now, so you be real good and if you promise to behave and keep them sweet little lips of yours zipped, I'll take that out your mouth and you can go in the closet there and get yourself cleaned up. OK?"

She made a noise and nodded.

The girl was so stiff and aching that I had to help her upright. Ellie was undeniably a very pretty little thing, with slightly hollow cheeks and fine, dark eyebrows that set off her bright eyes so well.

But right now, her cheeks were red and blotchy and her face stained with tears and dribble and strands of stray hair were stuck across her face. She stood unsteadily as I removed the gag and allowed me to usher her into the closet. My eyes feasted on the soft little pointy bumps of her breasts and the delicate, delicious pout of the perfect white mound at the top of her legs.

As if in a daze, she faced the washbowl. So short was she that she hardly was able to see in the mirror. I eased her to one side and dunked a towel in the bowl and sponged the grime from her face. The cool water seemed to jolt her out of her inertia. Though she looked drained and exhausted, a hint of life twinked in those baby blue eyes. Then I remembered the thermos of cold water I had filled in the locker room and passed it to her. She snatched it from my hands and glugged it down, trickles dribbling down each side of her chin.

That's it, darlin', I was thinking - don't want your mouth all dry do we? Can't suck cock proper without raising a bit of spit!

"Use the can while you got the chance," I instructed her.

It was as if she had just woken up and realized I was there. She looked at me and frowned and then down at her own nakedness and hastily put her hands over her crotch and her elbows over her breasts. It would have been a tad amusing had she not snapped back, quite unexpectedly.

"No way! Not with you here. Let me go now!! I hate you! Gimme back my clothes and let me out of here!"

And her tantrum was entirely real and exploded instantaneously. Without further warning, she tried to duck past me, out of the closet.

I had mistakenly thought that after all she had been through, she would be both chastened and tired and so be real easy to manipulate for a quick blowjob. My compensation. Instead, I was again being screamed at by the brat from Hell. She even hit me twice in the gut as she tried to barge past!

Well I can tell you that any slack I would have cut her was now well and truly history. Ellie had crossed me one time too many.

I snatched a handful of hair and I don't mind admitting I wasn't too careful about being gentle with her any more. She yelped - the back of her scalp was sore and of course her hair was pulling at the small raised bruising where she had hit her head.

It stopped her effectively enough and I was able to lead her back into the cubicle, shoving her for effect.

"You will do as you're told, if you want to get out of here in one piece! Now I freaking told you to use the can so darned well do it."

I raised my fist and I must have looked mean because this time she glared back but nonetheless she pulled herself up on the wooden seat.

"Uh-uh," I shook my head. The nerves returning after her outburst, she looked up, worried.

I gestured and said, "knees apart.. And sit up a bit. 'Fact put you hands behind your head."

She was actually embarrassed.

I couldn't see how she could blush, with me already having pawed her snatch and whatever, but yep, as the jet of hot pee spluttered then flowed free, her face was definitely flushed, and not from her recent outburst.. She couldn't bare to see me watching her and stared at the walls of the cubicle.

"Sit still. Any more?"

Still unable to face me, Ellie shook her head.

I felt a surge of pleasure gripping my guts, having again regained control and having power over her. Watching her misery, her shame, her fear. I wanted to make her suffer.

"Don't you move a frigging muscle," I growled.

And when I had finished preparing a few things in the caboose and returned to the closet, she was obediently sitting just as I had left her, except that her chin was down on her chest and she was snuffling and sobbing very quietly to herself.

"OK. Use the towels and soap. Give yourself a good wash all over - you're all sweaty and dirty and I want you to look your best when you show me what a sorry little girl you are."

She gave me a suspicious, sideways look but resignedly climbed off the can and dutifully wet a towel and scrubbed herself, glaring at the washbowl with a sullen expression.

I had been making it all ready for her, whilst she waited in the john.

On each side of the caboose, at one end, was a raised platform about five feet off the floor and on each of these was a seat so that the guard could sit aloft and look along the train with his head up in the cupola. That's also where there was the emergency brake handle and pressure gauge. Reaching these platforms was a short stepladder, which could be moved from one side to the other. And there was a long pole reaching vertically up from the floor on each side and bending to form a safety rail for either platform. The distance between these rails, which turned to the horizontal about seven or eight feet off the floor, was just right for what I had in mind and I had already slung the rope over them, to be on hand.

There was a bit of huffing and puffing to do, but within a couple minutes, there she was, swinging the way I wanted.

Upside down, short ropes from her ankles to the safety rails, her feet ending up about three feet apart and her hands just a frustrating few inches off the floor and her hair hanging down over her face. Quite easy really: just tucked her under my arm, put a barrel hitch round each ankle, then when I let her down and judged the height off the floor was just fine and dandy, I tied off the ends to the rails.

Such a fabulous sight, hanging there, scrubbed, naked and scared half to death. That's what she needed - undignified, painful and just right for playing between her skinny young legs.

I looked at her hands, swaying just off the caboose floor. Best if they were taken care of as well, so took a ball of string from the desk drawer and wound some round the little finger of each hand and tied it off to the closest stanchion.

I let her squirm and moan and beg until she tired herself out and the rope was digging into her ankles and the strain down the muscles of her thighs was beginning to tell.

Perfect. She could move, but only a bit, and the more she did, the more it would hurt and tire her out.

She looked good from either direction. From the rear, her buns were hard and red and her buttocks had a seductive hollow at the sides where the sinews were pulled taut. Her legs, bony and smooth, were splayed and even when she stopped wriggling, the ropes were far enough apart to make every inch stretch and ache.

And from the front, her sweet little cunt was revealed to me in all its glory and her dark asshole was stretched and exposed between her cheeks. Even her stomach was a treat, firm and flat and the weight of her upper body pulled it tight, so that a neat furrow was defined from her belly button up to her chest.

I studied her tiny nipples, sticking out provocatively from the flattened humps of her baby breasts and wickedly, I went to the desk and dug around for a couple of two inch steel bulldog clips, used for holding car labels. I picked the two newest ones, whose bite would be strongest.

She yelled the way I hoped. Better even, since she nearly choked herself, sniffling and crying out.

I took my time, getting the jaws of the clips to grip right at the base of each nipple, releasing and adjusting and letting them dig in. I had to make three or four attempts each side. Plus a couple more for luck.

It was as well I had restrained her hands, for she tried to reach up and claw off the clips, but the string held firm and her fingers scrabbled in the air only a few inches from her breasts, unable to reach.

Ellie yelped a squeal of frustration.

The more she thrashed about, the more it hurt her legs as well, so there was a bonus. I let her settle down. She kept half-whispering 'Please...' but I was immune to that now.

When she was quiet, I threaded a two pound track spike (that we used as a paperweight) on to a rubber band and hung it from a clip, pulling her little nipple away from her chest. It was a-pinching and a-pulling that little nub most effectively. It set her off wailing again, so I fumbled around looking for something similar to hang off other one. Best I could come up with was my ring of Allen keys but it did the job for a while and only fell off when I gave her the whipping later.

Shit, I was having myself some real fun at last!

I stripped to my shorts and vest. The temperature was building up again inside the car, what with no movement of air, and the lights were adding to the heat.

And I was hornier than a rhinoceros.

"How you doing down there, Ellie?" I asked her. "Not so full of yourself now are ya?"

I knelt on the floor next to her head.

"Let me tell you what I want, missy."

She blinked hard and looked at me attentively through the tousled mass of hair that cascaded about her head, hot and tickling. Her sweet face was once again flushed deep red from being strung upside down for so long, plus the yelping and protesting when I played with her titties.

"You, young lady, are going to learn to be nice to your elders and betters."

I eased down my shorts.

"There's a little fella here, needs a good licking and sucking."

My cock sprang loose. Hadn't been so hard and eager for a while. The bell end was swollen maroon and shiny with pre-cum.

I wadded the blanket from the bunk, to form a kneeling pad and lowered myself next to her, filling her view with my hairy crotch. I held the base of my cock with thumb and forefinger and steadied the end until it was an inch from her mouth. Her eyes were bulging with panic.

I ignored for now the heart-stopping vista of that fabulous pale, vulnerable young crotch, wide open in front of me, the lips of her little cunt begging to be pulled further apart and that tight, dusky asshole, all ready too for serious investigation.

For I wanted to feel her cute mouth close around my length and the nervous flitting of her inexperienced tongue over every square inch of my pubic skin.

"If you really wanted to show me how sorry you are, you'd be kissing that right now, and licking that tongue of yours all over the end."

Ellie spluttered as she tried to protest.

"Oh dear, that's a pity. I've never met such a bad-mannered girl as you. Now I'm going to have to hurt you some more, till you stop being so dumb and do what I want. Just get them pretty little lips round my cock and I might just forgive you and let you go home.

Still nada.

"You are one stupid little girl."

And still her mouth remained clamped defiantly shut.

"OK. Have it your way."

And with that I got back up and went to my jacket to light up a Marlboro.

I crouched low on the gritty deck of the caboose, so that my face was on a level with hers and let out a long, deliberate stream of smoke, blowing it gently at her button nose.

She moaned and coughed and screwed up her face.

When I had exhaled fully, I added, "I'll just take a smoke while you think about it. All you got to do is get your mouth to work..."

And I knelt up so that my cock was again almost touching her face.

Which put me back at a convenient height to enjoy her spread pussy.

I stroked the inside of her thigh and could resist no longer. Keeping the cigarette in my mouth, I used both hands to tease around her cunny, then laid my fingertips on her labia, at right-angles to her slit, and ever so gently eased her open to take a look inside.

"Don't feel no kissing yet, Ellie," I said.

The end of my cock brushed her face and for a moment I thought she had seen sense, but she was still groaning and sniveling down there, so I wet the end of my forefinger and pushed it against the hole of her vagina and her entire body snapped and rocked.

"I got to be real careful here," I informed her.

"Taking a good look at these cute little girl bits and pieces..."

I pushed until half an inch of thick brakeman's finger had insinuated itself. She was as taut as a drum, her legs rigid and the scrawny muscles flexing tensely.

"Got to watch what I do with this here cigarette too..."

I brushed with my fingernail the softest, whitest little patch of skin, right at the top of her thigh. She flinched and I grinned and puffed a stream of smoke down towards her head.

"So dainty and tender, ain't ya?"

I pressed lightly on her labia with two fingers, at the same time between them, rotating the tip of my forefinger extremely slowly in slightly increasing circles, so that she could feel it moving dangerously just inside her tiny hole.

"'Hate to have an accident here. Man, that would hurt! Getting burned on your sweet little snatch."

Suddenly I shifted my body and cried out.

"Whoops!"

it worked. Her startled half-cry, half-scream was in pure terror. I didn't even need to touch her with the Marlboro.

And half a minute later, when I had stopped chuckling and she was hanging still again, she strained to move her head forwards and at last I felt a pursed and horrified pair of young lips briefly alight on my swollen dick. I swear I could even feel them shaking.

I smiled. At freaking last!

Pinching out the stub, I ran my hands down her fabulous, skinny little body, her waist so thin I could almost wrap my fingers right round it.

I carefully avoided touching the clips on her titties, so as not to distract her, and I again steadied my cock so that her mouth reached it easily.

"Good girl. Now just you stick out that little tongue of yours and lick the big red end, just like you was doing with that popsicle when you was sitting on the gate.

"Don't be shy, lick it all over, make it all nice and shiny and wet."

I reached down, cradling the back of her head and shuffled a fraction forward. She had her eyes firmly shut and even upside down, I could see the sneer of disgust on her face, but she still lapped at the precum and my cock twitched at the delicate touch.

"OK, darling, now open your mouth nice and wide and let them lips go all floppy."

Carefully, I increased the pressure on her head, so that she had no alternative but to let the head of my dick pass between her lips and into her hot little mouth.

"Close your lips gently. That's it. Oh yeah. Get your mouth full of spit and push your lips along as far as you can. Go on, more. And more - you can do better than that. Let's see if we can't get it all in there."

I held her head and inched forward again until her tongue and roof of her mouth pressed against it and then she panicked and started choking and trying to back off, but I held her firm for a few seconds more, before pulling out in case the little bitch did something stupid like closing her teeth round it.

"OK you're fine. You're doing well, darling. Get your breath back and try it again."

I pushed the wet knob at her lips and she moaned but she no longer had any choice or any spirit to resist.

"Give it some nice big long licks first. That's it all down the sides and underneath.

"Good girl. You're a natural cocksucker!

"Oh yeah, put you mouth over and... now try sucking real gentle. Pull your head back slow. Stop! Now hold it there and push your face forward again.

"Keep licking. Give it a good old bath with that dirty little tongue. Oh yeah."

Moving my hands to the side of her head, I grasped her steady, sliding the top half of my cock slowly in and out of her captive yet obedient mouth. Each time I slipped in, she hollowed her cheeks and her firm tongue caressed and darted over the surface. I was going to explode very soon.

I studied her tiny body, strung up in front of me, so tiny and white and entirely at my mercy.

At her little girl snatch, with its crisp cleft and twinkle of moisture at her cunt, where my finger had been exercising.

At her tight asshole, deep pink and inviting between her flushed and tender cheeks. Her skinny legs, pulled tight up to the ropes around her ankles.

And her cute stomach, pulled concave, her ribs, pushing the skin white and shiny, and the harsh black bulldog clips gnawing her nipples as the weights swung and shook each time my dick entered her mouth.

I gave her no warning.

Simultaneously I let out an involuntary grunt and her body tensed and she tried to pull away, but I held her firm and push my cock deep into her, right to her throat and it pulsed and spat my load. Waves of cum, rising hotly up and shooting into her mouth, filling it with stickiness. I ached and shivered with the all-over glow of orgasm. I felt nothing else but the incredible pulsations in my groin and it seemed I would go on forever, as the pulses welled up and exploded right inside that hot little mouth, held hard over my ecstatic cock.

As I peaked, I growled, "Don't even think of spitting it out."

But she was already thrashing around at the end of the rope, choking, retching and straining to inhale, as her constant crying had made it hard to breathe through her nose, and in my moment of climax, I was unknowingly forcing the end of my dick down her throat. She must have been terrified of suffocating.

So when I released her and sat back, she instantly gasped and coughed and spluttered, making whelping noises as she sucked in the air and only when she realized she could inhale did she then crumple into a self-pitying, wailing cry, with tears flowing free and trickling down into her hair and strings of mucus and saliva and jizz dribbling over her lips and red face, mingling with the sheen of sweat. Her little body convulsed and twisted and danced on the ropes and the weights tugged the clips on her nipples and compounded her helpless misery.

I sat back on my haunches, my dick still aglow, and watched her suffering, immersed in a glorious fug of satisfaction.

"Just you enjoy yourself there, girl. Make as much noise as you want. Nobody going to disturb us."

Seeing her jiggle and writhe upside down like that, eyeing her little pussy and tits and imagining the Hell she was going through, I knew I couldn't leave it there. Even though I had just had the best freaking climax in years.

"But I wouldn't tire yourself out, if I were you, Ellie. I haven't finished with you yet."

Strands of cum clung to her lips and teeth as she sniffed pathetically, "Please let me go home."

I watched her for a few minutes, while my erection relaxed and she became more still and her breathing controlled, punctuated with the occasional sniff and sob.

I stood up, to go to the closet and wipe myself down.

And that's when I saw the two foot rule on the desk: the one I used to put over the train ledger. Inspiration!

In a moment of pure sadistic pleasure, that surprised me as much as her, I picked it up and stood before her and gave her half-a-dozen sharp strokes on the inside of her splayed legs, right at the tops of her thighs, close as I could get to her kiddy cunt yet still swing hard enough to hurt her and make her yelp and wrench her ankles in the ropes. Her arms flailed and the string tugged painfully at her fingers.

In the closet I looked at myself in the mirror, panting, and I didn't recognize the eyes that stared back.

In those short minutes, during which I had thrashed her soft young inner thighs, I had been so carried away that I had not noticed that one of the clips had at last shaken free from her nipple.

Nor that she was no longer wriggling and crying.

"Shit!" I muttered and my fingers raced to release the ropes from the guard rails. With all her shaking and twisting, the knots had become tight and I cussed and picked and tugged as hard as I could. The first came free but her limp body suddenly swung away, suspended from a single ankle and her free leg jutting across the caboose at a crazy angle. I reached down and grabbed her around the hips and lifted her body. Once more I found myself surreally intrigued at how stick-thin and light she was and I cursed myself for letting my mind wander and fought to hold her against me, under my arm, and pick at the stubborn rope.

I willed myself to concentrate and with the weight taken off the knot, my fingers managed to pick at the fibers sufficiently well to take a hold and wrench the loop of the barrel hitch loose enough to pull over her feet.

Her limp body crumpled against mine, her leg falling against the side of my head. Only then did I realize that her hands were still held by the lengths of string. Dammit! I carefully lowered her floppy little frame to the floor and dived over to fetch the clasp knife from my pants and hack her free.

That done, I scooped her up and carried her over to the chair and cradled her on my lap, her head lolling against my chest, smearing it with the sticky mess from her face.

To my great relief, she was breathing fine and actually just conscious, but her eyelids were heavy and her mouth gaped and she was little more than a sagging manikin propped against me.

I pushed the damp hair from her face and held her to me.

Her eyes flickered open and she blinked and stared at me, glazed and uncomprehending. Her face was still extremely flushed and I could feel her body trembling when I pressed her head to my shoulder and held her close.

I have no idea how long I sat there, nestling this broken, stunned little girl in my lap. She made no sound, barely moved. I gingerly removed the remaining clip from her nipple and tossed it with the spike paperweight on to the bunk and pulled her closer and stroked her tiny, soft shoulders and back.

And rocked slowly in the chair, nursing her to my chest. I wondered if I had let this all go too far.

"Please, may I go home?" she whispered.

That shook me back to my senses.

I tipped her slightly, to look in her face. Behind the grime and beads of sweat and chalky trails of tears, her colour was back to normal and her big baby-blue eyes were heavy and sad, set in tired red rims and entirely devoid of the malicious sparkle of before.

She was just a bewildered, exhausted, tiny little girl, whose body throbbed and ached literally from head to toe.

Curled in my lap, her feet reached just half way down my shins, the top of her head hardly came up to my shoulders. I felt if I bent my body, I would smother her, so small did she seem against me. He legs, thin and white, pressed hot against the hairy expanse of my thighs. Her hard little ass pushed down on my crotch. I let my hand rest on her thigh and rubbed the smooth skin with a feather light touch.

It is near enough impossible not to feel some affection towards a small girl when you've just filled her throat with cum. I turned her a little and gentled her back against my chest and played my fingers over her back, feeling and enjoying the sweet line of her vertebrae in my fingers. With the merest hint of a hug, I bent my head and kissed her tenderly on the top of her matted hair.

I nestled her protectively and pulled her even closer to my body. I may have imagined it, but I'm sure she relaxed and snuggled back.

Then I replied.

Softly, quietly, against her ear, whilst my hand slipped deftly up her thigh. My strong fingers prized her legs apart a touch, and curled over the hot peachy mound.

"Sure, darlin'. But not till I've stuck my big, hard dick right up inside your sweet little ass and pussy."

Summoning her remaining inner strength, Ellie desperately tried to pull away from me, but she had no chance.

I held her tight against my own naked body, loving the moment, my arm furled around her upper body and my hand clamped firmly over her crotch. And against the side of her buttock, my cock stirred again.

And the more she struggled and pleaded and whined, the better it got.

This tiny creature was all mine now and I was going to do whatever I wanted. And to Hell with the consequences.

I was chuckling at her, gripping her tight.

"Oh Ellie, don't go all shy on me now. You gave me such a nice blowjob; I think a sweet fuck would make our first date complete!"

Her bony hip pushed and rubbed against the sweat on my stomach as she struggled. It was stifling hot and we were both bathed in perspiration again.

After the scare with the rope, I decided to opt for something simple this time.

All I really wanted was to keep her under control whilst I had my last tease. Actually I wasn't even convinced I would do anything else at that stage. It was fun enough just letting her think so. I was making this up as I went along, and at last I was enjoying myself big-time!

Though right now, I figured we could both do with a brief spot of fresh air, to cool down before the last session.

Under the lower bunk, in the storage bin, were kept some odds and sods for jury-rigging a damaged car in an emergency. Nothing too much - a few tools and nails and the like. And a six foot length of one inch chain and padlock: just right for making a leash for slutty little girl.

When I judged she was tired out from her little outburst, I slid her down my legs.

She knelt, slumped and miserable, in the center of the caboose and I formed the chain into a noose and slipped it over her head.

"Hey girly!" I jibed, "Don't you go pulling too hard or this thing won't just hurt, it'll stop you breathing for good."

She stared silently at her knees.

I gave the chain a playful tug and she yelped and her hands instinctively shot up and grabbed at it when the loop tightened and a flash of panic took the color from her cheeks as she yanked it away from the front of her throat.

Yep. That would do the trick!

It was a blessed relief, opening the caboose door and stepping out into the still coolness of the balcony. Though there was no breeze to speak of, the air chilled my sweat. I had dragged on my pants but she was entirely naked and her eyes darted about, peering into the gloom of the marshaling yard all around.

She sucked her breath when her bare feet landed heavily on the cinders. Her bewildered and frightened eyes reflected the light from the open caboose door and she clung to the chain as I pulled her over to where I had left my truck.

I got a '62 F250 with built-up sides - ugly as sin but she runs sweet. With the tailgate down, the loadbed is plenty long enough for even me to lie out. I keep a tarpaulin rolled in the back and that's what I had come out to fetch: on the floor of the caboose I planned to spread it out so as we would have a touch of home comfort.

For her first time?

I was definitely warming to that idea.

I made her clamber up and get it. She struggled in the dark, straining to shove the heavy roll and keep the slack in the chain at the same time. I growled something threatening and I heard her grunting as she raced to slide the tarp on to the tailgate.

There were two other cabooses stabled against mine and I made her carry it right around the farthest one and back down the far side. She staggered and stubbed her toe climbing over the track.

"If you drop that, I'm gonna whip that red little ass of yours all over again."

She gripped the tarp hard against her chest, clawing at it when it began slipping and moaning quietly to herself as the sharp stones and cinders jabbed the soles of her feet. I kept the tension in the chain and led her along the darkened cars, back to the caboose. Slightly disappointed I hadn't thought to beat the bottoms of her feet a little before I took her outside.

A mile away, down the other end of a yard, a switcher was cutting out cars and the sharp clank of couplings punctuated the heavy heat.

"OK, get yourself back up and inside," I instructed her, taking the tarp from her and pushing her back once her foot had located the lower step to the balcony.

She looked across at my truck, not ten yards away on the other side of the caboose and shot me a hurt look and I could read her little mind and the resentment at having to carry the bundle an entirely unnecessary extra hundred yards.

I threw the tarp on to the floor.

"Make a nest," I grunted.

The dumb kid stared back questioningly and I patiently explained, "Lay it out in the middle there - just big enough for you to lie down, OK?"

She still dithered, a look of nervous suspicion in her eye, but that instantly disappeared once the chain snapped tight and tightened threateningly around her skinny little throat.

Ellie crouched and began to unfold the canvas.

My eyes feasted on her tiny pink-striped ass, bobbing around as she unrolled and arranged the tarp. I glimpsed the slit of her pussy, revealed between her legs.

Soon.

"OK. That's good enough," I said.

The caboose's first aid kit provided the remaining items I needed, and I placed them on the desk behind her.

I kicked off my boots and slipped off my pants and lowered myself beside her on the tarp. She could not help herself look between my legs and I chuckled to myself.

Oh yes, missy, I was thinking, take a look by all means: that fat old dick is getting all big and hard again just for you.

Warily, she bent her head forward to allow me to loosen the chain and lift it over her head. Sitting alongside her, I was once more taken with how small Ellie was. Tiny, fragile, as if I could snap her in half as soon as look at her.

I reached up to the desk and retrieved the hessian pack I used to carry my personal stuff; I had collected it from the truck whilst she struggled with the tarp.

"Give me your thumbs, Ellie," I said.

The girl seemed to have resigned herself to her fate, for she was no longer sniffing or crying or trying to resist. She was like an automaton, her sad eyes hooded and glazed, allowing me to position her limbs or move her at will. She held out her hands.

Reaching behind her, I felt around on the desk and located the crepe dressing. She obediently kept her thumbs crossed over as I had set them, and watched me wind the strip of bandage around. She barely acknowledged the discomfort when I pulled it as tight as I could, before tying it off.

"Good girl," I acknowledged and carefully helped her lay down on her back and placed her hands up above her head.

I stroked her breast and nipple.

Like its twin, it was swollen and distended, and shaded purple from the prolonged clamping and stretching. She winced.

"Sssh. You've been a bad girl and you've been punished. Don't make me have to teach you any more lessons."

She had drunk the last of the thermos of water and I needed a drink. Shit, I'd already busted enough company regulations already - Rule G was the last thing I cared about now. I fished in the knapsack and found it: the bottle of pilsner I keep there in case I feel like one when I'm driving home after a late turn. I knocked off the cap on the edge of the desk.

Ellie was watching.

I sat back beside her and took a swig. And then a second, though that one was for her.

I rolled against her and took her by surprise. In a split second, I had pinched her nose and was forcing my mouth to hers. Instinctively her lips parted to breathe and I pressed my mouth down hard and expelled the beer between them, holding my arm down across her collar bone to keep her steady. She stiffened immediately and I could tell her legs were thrashing about but I kept firm until she was gagging and moaning and her eyes were bulging.

"Can't have a party without a drink and a kiss!" I chuckled, sitting back, watching her splutter and gasp in the air, her mouth and chin wet and her little tits covered in a frothy golden spray of beer and spittle.

Her chest heaved and I watched her hard young stomach flex in and out.

I licked my middle finger and reached down, between her legs. Her pussy was hot and damp and my finger brushed aside the flap and made slick the glossy flesh beneath, exploring beneath her labia and teasing and touching. I lay close, kissed her shoulder and licked some droplets of beer from her nipple.

"This is nice, Ellie," I said. "Just the two of us. Me and my little white trash slut."

She tried to turn her head away, so I buried my face in her hair and caught the lobe of her sweet little ear between my teeth. I whispered.

"Bet you're looking forward to this, ain't ya? Having my big, hard cock pumping in that hot little ass of yours? Or fucking your smooth little pussy? That's what you wanted all along ain't it? Flaunting yourself about down by the tracks? Showing off them legs of yours, flashing that cute butt in your little blue panties?"

She was shaking her head softly.

I pushed and an inch of finger forced into her vagina.

"You dirty little whore. That's what you wanted isn't it?

A huge tear welled in the corner of her eye and trickled over her cheek.

"No, please," she blurted. "Don't."

I picked her up. Literally lifted her off the tarp and spun her round and set her back down on her knees and elbows, with that great little ass sticking right up in the air.

She wobbled, trying to make the position stable; though having her thumbs tied limited her options severely.

I snaked my arm up to the desk and gathered the small tin I had left at the edge. The medic kit had proved so useful - unscrewing the lid, I scooped a small amount. It was a glycerin-based skin treatment that most of us used in the winter, when the ice cold and wet soaked through your gloves and your hands could become raw from handling the frozen metal. I'm no expert, but I reckoned it should help a thick, hard cock slide nicely into a tiny, tight little asshole.

The surprise of having the cool cream pushed against her anus made her start and her arms gave way. She gasped and collapsed forward, her face on to her outstretched forearms.

Suited me fine. I didn't care so long as I had her rear.

Ellie's tiny asshole surrendered to the pressure of my slippery finger and I slid it in, quarter inch at a time, letting the sphincter relax and accept each extra length.

She was fixed rigid by her own fear.

Ellie moaned and squirmed and my finger slid out. I knelt up and took hold of her from the side, encircling her narrow waist with my arm and pulling her against me, to steady her whilst I began to open her up.

"Be still, for Christ's sake!" I grunted in exasperation.

But she still fought me and I lost my patience and my eyes settled on the twin patches of ruddy soreness and I swung back my arm and slapped my open palm hard on the furthest cheek of her backside. Instantly, I followed it up with a second stinging blow to the other buttock. She jerked and tensed and shrieked, as the pain from the raised and tender flesh seared through her. The persistent dull throbbing in Ellie's ass suddenly exploded into an all-embracing fireball of pain that flared up and set her skin afire.

I punctuated my threat with a torrent of quick, accurate slaps, evenly distributed to each side of her, but every single one landing hard down on the raw tenderness and welts from her earlier beating.

"Keep... your... freaking ... ass... still... you freaking... little cunt!"

Pinned against me, she could not avoid my spanking though she wriggled and bucked and wailed and coughed.

Each sharp slap seemed louder than the last.

It felt so good. Her tiny body so close, at my mercy. I controlled her.

I was hurting her. She was yelping and it was great and I wanted to go on and on....

Enough!

Her firm ass felt hot against my palm. I moved it slowly across the little ridges and swellings where the skin smoldered and I could almost sense the pulsating agony beneath. Ellie's crying had fallen into a breathless, juddering whimper.

She had had a dozen or more and I sat back on my heels, panting from the sudden exertion. In my arm, her body twitched and juddered as she sobbed helplessly.

I slid her off my legs and she slumped on the tarpaulin, drawing her knees into her stomach to form a protective ball.

"No you don't!" I growled and slid my hands under her hips and roughly pulled her back up into a crouched kneeling position, face to the tarp.

Her mottled red ass was glossy from the hand cream but now I had to start over, smearing my forefinger and working it back into her asshole. This time she swayed and groaned but there was no more wriggling, no more resistance. Her rectum was smooth and hot and almost sucked my finger into her. I worked the slippery hotness, in and out, curling my finger ever so slightly and pressing against her asshole methodically in different directions, slowly opening her. A further knob of cream and some persistent pressure and I finally managed to slide my middle finger into her, alongside the other, though she grunted and whimpered, the cream made it easy to slip in and out and her anus gaped blackly.

I smeared the remaining cream on the swollen purple head of my dick. I knelt up to the right height, but my cock was so hard I couldn't stop the darn thing slipping up the crack of her ass, so I had to adopt a half-crouched stance in order to incline it towards its goal.

"Don't you freaking dare move, missy, or I'll chop you in little pieces and scatter you across the tracks."

The tip of my dick was pressing hard against the small, puckered aperture, no longer tightly pulled closed, but warm and glossy and accessible. And I pushed. Firmly, persistently, but slowly, and I watched my bell end slide between her spread cheeks and felt the delicious smooth wetness envelope it. Now partly inside her, I no longer had to hold the base to guide it and so I gripped her skinny little body over the knobbles of her hips, holding her tightly and I let my weight forward, a little at a time, and sunk my cock deeper into her.

She gasped each time I slipped more of my thick cock into her.

Ellie let out a long, miserable moan: her voice cracked and her body slumped forwards as she collapsed into a sobbing fit. I had to grasp her waist to prevent her falling off my cock.

Her face was buried in her hands. Her hair was wild and matted and shook each time I eased deeper inside her. Her rectum clasped me hotly and I could feel its caress along the whole length of my penis, now that I was able to slide freely in and out. I leaned forward, so that I covered her tiny curled-up body, her ass pulled into my crotch, and I reached a little higher up her, so that my hands were spread around the sides of her narrow waist. It felt so incredible -at last having this little kid under control, and taking every inch up into her slippery ass, over and over.

Each time I slipped inside, the physical ecstasy was doubled as I look down at Ellie's body, so small, so pliant.

She deserved it.

I deserved it.

I shuffled my knees closer to her and pulled her bodily towards me, still impaled on me. I bent over her further, my fingers firm about her waist and I held her steady and pushed and she whinnied like a pony as the head of my cock forced deep into her belly.

Any moment, I knew I was going to have to cum. To speed up and ram hard into her. Fill her little body.

I pulled right out, hoping to postpone that, to make the most of this incredible chance to fuck such a cute little girl.

Her asshole gaped impossibly. Dilated massively, obscenely, between her little abused, red buttocks. All around, she was slick with the glycerin cream; her tiny pussy glowed pink and puffy below.

So inviting. And available.

Oh fuck! I'd crossed the line so far already.

Ellie's face flashed a hopeful expression. I rolled her on to her side. Her cheeks were flushed and shiny with tears, her crisp lips quivered, strands of hair were plastered to her forehead. She was terrified. Exhausted and beaten,

A vicious shiver of evil pleasure rattled through me, seeing her like this. She was totally mine.

I smiled, licking my lips, tasting the sweat.

And as I rolled her on to her back, and straightened her arms over her head, she looked right at me and it dawned on her what was happening. I pushed her knees apart and settled between them and when I put my hands under her thighs, and lifted them, bending them back to her belly and splaying them so that her sweet little pussy was made ready, Ellie's big, wet eyes begged and she mouthed a silent plea.

But my knees were against her ass and I was leant right over her and my aching cock was already pushing at her vagina.

"You shouldn't mess with the grown ups if you can't take the consequences," I grinned down at her.

Whatever she was about to say was lost in a quavering, mournful squeal, and the first couple inches of hot, hard cock rasped into her virgin pussy.

~~ ### ~~

The sky behind the yard office was already beginning to brighten with the glow of pre-dawn.

We had lain on the tarp for a log while after, neither of us speaking, both of us breathing hard and our shared perspiration bubbling where my leg pressed down on her thighs and my hand curdled idly over her tiny, flat tit.

There was a faint chill at my groin as the mess of fluids cooled and dried.

I realized we needed to be out of there before it grew light.

What I planned to do next was put her in my truck, maybe even have some last fun with her, then take her somewhere close to home and drop her off. I was going to have to scare the shit out of her one more time and tell her to come up with some tale about hitting her head and passing out. Heck, I hadn't even worked it all out yet.

And as it happens, it didn't quite pan out that way anyways.

There was one last twist about to take us both by surprise.

I used the back road out of the yard. It wasn't an official route -a section of fence had blown down some years ago and since the Maintenance of Way guys used the gap as a short cut from their own depot, a track had formed and the fence was never likely to be repaired. And I suppose it stopped the bums cutting through the fence in other places to get to the trains. So it kinda suited everybody and tonight it was what I wanted, to avoid having to go past the gatehouse again. With a secret passenger stowed under the tarp in the back.

My cock was still glowing. Had I not wanted to keep my wits about me, I'd have put on the radio and maybe even sung along, since I was in one heck of a good mood. I'd never known a day like it, but it turned out OK in the end. A fuck like no other had been, before or since.

I was bumping along the perimeter on just my parking lights.

And for a second, out the corner of my eye, I glimpsed two pairs of eyes, reflected. Then they were gone. It was no animal. I knew exactly what I was seeing: a pair of bums ducking down in the undergrowth, waiting for me to get by, before they sneaked in the yard. Quite a few of them preferred to do it in the yard, despite the risks. They knew the schedules as well as we did and they could pick and choose an empty car and get aboard just as the train was setting out.

And just as quick as they disappeared from my sight, the idea struck me.

I pulled up and killed the engine, to give me a couple moments to think it over.

Then this big, stupid grin cracked my face. Man, it was a stroke of genius!

~~ ### ~~

Dawn proper was coming up when I finally drove home.

I had watched the tail lamp of the caboose shrink to a pinprick and then gunned the engine. She was on her way to God-Knows-Where, TX. I needed a shower and change and a couple hours shuteye before I'd have to come back for my next turn. But there would never be another day to equal this one.

That train ran pretty much non-stop all the way into Texas. In a few hours she would be a very long way from home.

I wondered what condition the girl would be in by then. They'd started with her even before the last hobo had popped up from between the cars and swung himself into an open door.

I knew this was a popular route and I had already counted five of them creeping aboard in the less than an hour I'd sat and watched the train. I also knew that they liked particular types of box car. Not the draughty cattle cars of the old days - today's hobo knows that any fool could be uncomfortable. So that's why I'd put her in that particular car: I was counting on her having a little company for her first journey.

I'd sat her up the end of the car, one wrist and one ankle tethered to grabrails with a yard of thick cord. Left her little gingham dress undone. And the neckerchief tied over her mouth. I'd cleaned her up a little back in the caboose and she looked so young and sweet and cute, tied there.

Nowhere to hide. No way to escape the intentions of any fellow passenger, who happened to pick that car for a free ride.

I hid inside a car in the parallel track and waited, hoping my hunch paid off.

And I had watched the first two scouting along the track, looking out for railroad staff and trying the doors of the cars. I even recognized one of them - he had been riding the rails longer than I had. He had his trademark bundle and swigged from a bottle in a bag. I had left the doors to her car slightly open and like flies to a cowpat, they picked that one. I can only imagine what happened when they settled inside and found her. After only a couple minutes, I fancied I heard a muffled squeal and some low, excited voices. A chuckle, and laugh, a hush. And the sound of shuffling bodies.

Out on the highway, the breeze through the side windows chilled the sweat on my forehead. I reached in my pants and mopped my face with my neckerchief.

Double take.

Surely I had left my neckerchief tied hard across the girl's mouth? I looked in my hand and roared with laughter.

In my paw, damp with my perspiration, was a tiny pair of powder blue panties.