“Camille’s Captive”

By Arika Lee

 © 2006

Published by

 

All rights reserved. No part of this publication can be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the author.

This material is presented as adult entertainment and is not intended for any person under the age of eighteen years. While every precaution has been taken in the preparation of this work, the author assumes no responsibilities for errors or omissions, or for damages resulting from the use of information contained herein. All characters and descriptions contained herein are purely fictitious.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

1.

 

 

.

The slightest jerk signaled the train’s departure from New York’s Penn Station. Camille Andrews settled back comfortably in her private compartment. Her fear of flying was a nuisance, especially as so much of her business had become bi-coastal. It turned what should have been hours in the air into a three night long and boring cross country expedition. Still, she would be comfortable. She had made the trip several times now and the generous gratuity she always left with the steward, Washington, guaranteed she would be well looked after. He’d assured her that he would be serving her car all the way to Chicago and would make sure her luggage was shifted onto the train for Los Angeles.

 

The adjoining toilet and its tiny shower stall were not much but at least they were private and always spotless. Camille changed into a fresh blouse and freshened up. A couple of strokes with the brush set her long raven hair in place. Her smooth tan complexion and violet eyes required little make-up. The lounge and dining cars were not far and she decided that a trip for a Martini and a look at the menu might be nice.

 

She was relieved to find the car almost empty and took a window seat at a table alone. Her drink was served quickly and, to her pleasant surprise, was icy enough. Perhaps Washington had already spread the word that she was a tipper. If so, she did not mind. Camille was used to paying for what she wanted and, as long as she got it, was happy to do so.

 

The car began to fill up rather suddenly. A glance at the diamond studded face on her wrist explained it. She’d arrived just before the dinner rush. A balding fellow in a bow tie appeared and placed a pudgy hand on the back of the chair opposite her.

 

“Do you mind?”

 

He was half sitting as he asked.

 

“Yes, actually I do mind. In fact, I’ll order three extra meals before I suffer your company.”

 

It was said with irony but it arrested his descent and sent him hastily on down the aisle, muttering as he went. Camille smiled at the wrinkled pinstripes of his departing back and turned her attention back to the menu. She was just deciding that she would order something brought to her compartment instead of enduring the growing babble, when a body dropped down across from her. She looked up sharply with fresh barb on the tip of her tongue. It was never uttered though.

 

It was a young lady and a very attractive little thing as well. Suddenly, the long trip ahead held promise rather than boredom and Camille came alive in every nerve. An astute observer might have noticed the change in her as she coiled up in interest. A graceful and very intrigued cobra into whose presence a very sweet looking mouse had just ambled.

 

The girl looked up at Camille with cornflower blue eyes framed by glossy red hair in a loose pony tail. She made an apologetic face.

 

“Oh I’m sorry…I should have asked first but you are the only one sitting alone and...”

 

“No, it’s fine. I am pleased to have your company.”

 

“Ok. Thanks.”

 

Camille watched her fiddle with a backpack and come out with a pair of reading glasses. The girl looked up again and seemed a bit self-conscious to find Camille observing her.

 

“I lost a contact and haven’t been able to replace it.”

 

The explanation was defensive. Camille merely nodded and continued to watch as the girl studied the menu and then dove once more into the backpack. She took out a wallet and counted the bills in it. Camille saw only one dollar bills. It was then that the waiter appeared.

 

“We will have another pair of Martinis. After those, I think the veal cordon bleu for two and a bottle of your best white wine.” Camille declared.

 

“Yes Ma’am. Does the young lady have an I.D.?”

 

“She left it in our private compartment. If you are going to be tiresome my niece and I shall retire there and Washington can bring our dinner and receive my tip.”

 

“Oh…I’m sorry. That won’t be necessary, Ma’am. Since she is your niece I’m sure all is in order.”

 

Camille smiled graciously and the waiter departed, leaving her to wink at the girl’s startled expression.

 

“But I am only eighteen.” The girl whispered, “And besides the drink I don’t think I can afford what you ordered.”

 

“Shhh! What they don’t know won’t hurt them and as to the meal…that will be my treat. I remember what it was like to be a student with little money.”

 

“I don’t really know what to say, Ma’am. I don’t…”

 

“Just a simple thank you …and call me Camille.”

 

“Alright, then thank you…Camille. I’m Susan Parks.”

 

Camille shook the hand that was extended and enjoyed its fleeting softness.

 

“And where is Susan going to?”

 

Camille was interested but keeping the girl busy answering questions also allowed her to study her prey without her focus seeming anything other than innocent. And so it went. The drinks and meal were served and Camille skillfully drew the girl out.

 

Susan had been a foster child in a less than pleasant home outside White Plains. By being very studious she had earned scholarship offers from several schools and had chosen a California college to get as far away from her immediate past as possible. Her foster parents had scoffed and insisted she stay and work in their cleaning business, where she had been little more than fed labor since they had gotten their hands on her. But with the little money she had squirreled away she had seized her chance and fled, leaving only a vague note of farewell.

 

Camille thought to herself that a more perfect girl for her needs could not have appeared in her dreams. The bobbing red pony tail and faint spray of freckles were fetching. The girl also had exactly the sort of tight, slender body that attracted Camille. The fact that she had showed some grit in attempting to escape such a dreary existence appealed to her as well. The bald fact was that little Susan had nothing to return to and no certainty ahead. The girl was warm, living clay to be molded.

 

By the time they had finished desert, the Martini and white wine had done their work. She had insisted Susan try a pony of Grand Marnier for good measure.

 

Camille explained to Susan that having claimed her as a niece that it would not do for her to make her way back to a coach seat. She had plenty of room in her private compartment and they could talk comfortably there. In Susan’s tipsy state, it seemed to her that this older woman she had just met was a good fairy incarnate. She happily followed Camille down the aisle.

 

Susan was in awe of the small compartment’s comfort. Never having traveled before she had no idea that trains offered more than the crowded seat she had found assigned her. While Susan was ‘oohing and ahing’, Camille rang the service bell. Washington knocked almost immediately and entered at Camille’s word.

 

“Yes, Miz Andrews?”

 

“This is my niece, Miss. Susan Parks. I thought she and I had missed one another at the station but she was able to get a coach seat at the last moment after all. Unfortunately, she has lost her ticket. She will share my compartment, so make out a new one for her with accommodations that match my own. Washington will take care of your luggage if you remember your seat number, dear?”

 

“48B…it’s only a small suitcase under the seat.”

 

“We would also like another bottle of the Riesling we had with dinner and no disturbance after that until morning.”

 

“No problem, Miz Andrews.”

 

Camille handed him her credit card and another fifty in cash. Susan was taken aback by such uncalled for generosity from a near stranger. As soon as the steward left she began to protest such a gift but Camille hushed her.

 

“Just hush and don’t be silly. I want your company.”

 

Camille’s tone was definite and Susan’s protests fell away though she did rummage out her coach ticket.

 

“Maybe if you give him this it wouldn’t cost you as much?”

 

Camille smiled and took it. She moved to the window, lowered it and tossed Susan’s coach slip to the wind.

 

“Lost is lost!” She laughed.

 

When Washington returned with Susan’s bag and new ticket Camille took charge of it and tucked it away in her bag while the wine was poured. Once the steward had again smiled his way out, Camille relaxed and sipped as she steered the conversation toward what Susan was expecting in L. A.

 

Susan confided that she did not know a soul in California. Apparently some student aide had told her that once she arrived to enroll someone from admissions would answer any questions she had. Camille decided it was almost too good to be true. This girl really was little Miss Naïve. All the drinks and the train’s jostling finally forced Susan to ask for the toilet. 

 

“Go freshen up in the washroom and when you come back out we will pass the time with a new game I shall teach you.”

 

Susan reached for her backpack but Camille placed a hand over it.

 

“Use my stuff. It is already in there and there are fresh towels.”

 

No sooner had the door closed than Camille had the backpack’s side pocket unzipped and the girl’s wallet out. She looked at the girl’s driver’s license. Susan Parks…and she really was eighteen…perfect.  She dropped the license in her pocket. Behind the license, four neatly folded one hundred dollar bills had been hidden. There were no credit cards, only a couple of school photos and a letter of award for the scholarship the girl had mentioned. Camille debated chucking the lot but decided a bluff would be enough. She added it all to the license in her pocket. She remembered Susan’s glasses and hid them away as well.

 

With Susan’s empty wallet in hand she moved to the open window. She let the outside air blow her long hair back and hummed as she waited. This would be the acid test.

 

 

2.

 

When Susan emerged from the toilet cubicle Camille turned to face her, smiling. She allowed the girl to register the wallet in her hand and then flipped it over her shoulder out the window.

 

There was a strangled cry as Susan lunged past her. She could only stare stupidly at the rush of receding track for a moment before turning her head back in. Camille met the girl’s incredulous eyes coolly.

 

Susan was still a bit addled from the unaccustomed drinks. She stared at Camille blankly as she tried to make sense of the older woman’s sudden change of attitude. Her dumbfounded dismay was replaced by a flash of anger and she started forward. She only made a half step before Camille’s palm smacked her cheek sharply. The suddenness of it halted her in mid stride.

 

Camille watched the tears well up with satisfaction. She had been correct. The girl was weaker than she. It only remained to show her that she was out in the world on a thin string.

 

“Sit down and listen!” Camille ordered.

 

Susan dropped onto the settee with her head in her hands.

 

“Stop blubbering and pay attention.”

 

Susan looked up through wet eyes and grew quiet.

 

“I told you I would be teaching you a new game. It is called pleasing Camille.”

 

“Pleasing you? You must be crazy.”

 

With a look of defiance, Susan stood back up.

 

“I’m leaving and I’m going to report this.”

 

“Go ahead. You think they will believe you over me?”

 

Although greatly sobered, Susan’s head was still fuzzy. Camille saw the uncertainty as her words hit home

 

“Now you have nothing. If I call the conductor and tell him… you will be put off the train. It will be a momentary embarrassment for me. I will say that you told me you were destitute and I lied…claiming you were my niece to help you…but that then you became problematic and not worth helping. I might even tell them that I came out of the toilet and caught you going through my purse.”

 

Camille smiled at the irony and waited for the reality of the situation to take root. Once she saw the despair settle in behind Susan’s eyes, she relaxed and sat down.

 

“You would be stuck in the middle of God knows where with no money or identification. Hell, you can’t even see to read. I might even have you arrested as a thief.”

 

Camille paused for effect while Susan searched vainly for her glasses. Realizing they were gone as well, her shoulders sagged.

 

“Of course on the other hand…I may decide you are worth helping. If I do…things could be very easy for you…Are you worth helping, Susan?”

 

“What do you want?” the girl choked out between sniffles.

 

“Since you are incapable of a simple answer, I shall decide for myself. For now just sit back down and be quiet.”

 

Camille took up a magazine and pretended to ignore the girl. She was very aware of the girl’s curled posture across from her though and knew that the little mouse’s mind was racing. Well, let her run about in the maze, she thought. She would find that all avenues led back to Camille.

 

 

3.

 

Susan’s thoughts were indeed confused. She felt as though she was trapped in a disconnected dream. One of those nightmares where despite a need to move urgently, one’s sluggish legs refuse to obey. The more she thought about it the more she became convinced that any protest to the authorities would play out just as Camille had said. She really was at this strange woman’s mercy unless some avenue of escape presented itself.

 

As soon as Camille felt enough time had passed for the girl to fully appreciate the reality of her new situation she put down her magazine and stared at her until Susan finally raised her timid eyes.

 

“Take off your jacket and blouse.”

 

Susan gave the slightest negative movement of her head. Camille leaned across from her seat and gave her a light slap on the cheek and then leaned back again.

 

The slap brought forth fresh tears but there was fear in Susan’s glistening eyes as well. She thought about defying Camille but the idea of being kicked off the train with nothing…in the midst of nowhere, scared her. The vision of herself alone and stranded, defeated her. Slowly, she complied. Shrugging out of her jacket and then fumbling with the buttons of her blouse. Camille waited patiently. Time was her friend now.

 

When Susan at last sat with her upper garments clasped to her chest, Camille spoke.

 

“Toss the blouse out the window.”

 

Almost zombie like, Susan stood and did as she was bid and remained standing looking after her departed modesty. Camille let her linger, appreciating the long lines of the girl’s back for a moment.

 

“Come here.’

 

She enjoyed Susan’s hesitant approach. Unlike Susan, Camille knew where the game was going and knew that any hurry would only dilute her pleasure.

 

“Lean down to me, Susan.”

 

Even that concession was slow, but Camille waited patiently for the girl’s breasts to reach her waiting hands. She captured the nipples through the flimsy bra and twisted. Camille kept the girl bent over and gasping for a long moment and then reached back and undid the clasp. She pulled the bra down over the girl’s shoulders and watched as a pair of orange sized breasts dropped into sight.

 

“Hands behind your head.”

 

It only took a raised hand and the threat of another slap to bring compliance. Camille toyed with the girl’s dangling nipples roughly enough to fetch out another gasp and then pushed the bra into her open mouth.

 

“Out the window with it.” She directed.

 

It was done with the same slow obedience. Camille knew that in time this new girl would jump to obey. It was always a slow dance in the beginning but each hesitant step brought its own little thrill.

 

“Now, sit back over there and keep your hands behind your head.”

 

Once the girl was again settled across from her with her little tits on display, Camille returned to the magazine and a glass of wine.

 

She let Susan suffer in silence again. Occasionally she raised her eyes to find the girl watching her fearfully, the eyes would immediately lower. After several such charades, Camille decided to go a stage further. She sat aside the wineglass.

 

“Feeling neglected?”

 

“No.”

 

The reply was a mere mumble. Again, like a striking snake, Camille’s palm shot across the compartment. This time the slap was sharp enough to leave a hand print in red on the girl’s cheek.

 

“You must learn manners. That should have been…No, Miss Camille.”

 

A stubborn silence forced Camille to raise her hand again to gain a response.

 

“No…Miss. Camille.

 

“Much Better, Susan.  Take off your tennis shoes and socks.”

 

There was a resignation to the act and it was accompanied by a new freshet of tears. Camille waited until those items had been removed.

 

“Now your jeans.”

 

It was a clumsy little performance as Susan shifted from one foot to another against the train’s sway but the denims were finally discarded. Camille was pleased to see the girl standing hunched over in a final forlorn claim to modesty.

 

“Take your seat. Hands back behind your head.”

 

Camille watched with amusement as Susan did as instructed and yet kept her knees tightly together.

 

Camille slipped the heeled pump from her right foot and slid forward on her ass. With her leg extended, she used her toes to nudge the girl’s thighs open. They parted a bit.

 

“Don’t make me work, you little slut. Open wide.” Camille hissed.

 

Susan’s legs parted. With a pleased smile, Camille wriggled her big toe into Susan’s skimpily covered crotch. She noted with amusement the acute embarrassment that accompanied each twist of her toes.

 

Satisfied for the moment, Camille left things like that and pretended to go back to her reading. Occasionally she would flex her toes and was eventually rewarded with the expected moistness. She carried on until she had manipulated Susan’s crotch to a swampy dampness and then raised her sodden, nylon clad toes to the girl’s lips.

 

There was a bit of resistance but Camille’s intent was obvious and the pressure of the toes insistent. Susan’s lips gave way and her mouth was stuffed with Camille’s toes and the first taste of herself.

 

Susan had her eyes scrunched shut and her lips remained flaccid. Camille lost patience.

 

“Lick and suck, damn you, and look at me while you do it. If you fuck with me I shall beat your ass black and blue.”

 

Certain by then that Camille was not a woman to play with, Susan started her mouth working at the toes which Camille had begun pushing in far enough to gag her.

 

When she was at last satisfied that the girl had surrendered to her foot, Camille withdrew it.

 

“Take off those cheap panties now and toss them outside as well. Then close the window.”

 

There little resistance. Susan’s mind had numbed to the point where she was just wondering if she could placate Camille long enough to reach California and escape. Listlessly, she slid off her panties. She rose to drop them out of the window and pulled it down in its tracks.

 

“Come here.”

 

Susan moved to stand before Camille with her head down, still attempting to cover herself.

 

“Turn around and bend over.”

 

No sooner had Susan fearfully complied than she was slapped hard on her inner thighs until she was spread wide enough to suit Camille.

 

”Reach back and pull your ass open.”

 

With shaking hands the girl obeyed. Even under the incandescent light Susan’s flush of shame was apparent. Camille laughed softly. Red was her favorite color. Knowing the girl would flinch, she circled Susan’s brownie with a single manicured nail just to see it clench. She hooked a finger up through the girl’s still wet slit and wiggled it until her manipulation drew a sharp intake of breath. She pressed up slowly into the girl’s cunt and found that it was slick and narrow.

 

“I see you are not totally innocent.”

 

Susan was mortified that the privacy of her most intimate parts was being so violated. She had only had sex once. It was something that had been her secret. Now it seemed even more shameful. This coupled with Camille’s mocking tone proved too much. She burst out sobbing.

 

“You dirty old dyke! Can’t you just leave me alone?’ 

 

In the wink of an eye she found herself down across the older woman’s thighs with her ass flaming as Camille’s palm laid into it. When her right hand began to sting, Camille shifted it to pull up hard on Susan’s long red pony tail and used her left to bring up a blush up on the other half of the girl’s ass. By the time she finished she was panting and the girl was sobbing. Camille knew she had not hurt the girl. It was the humiliation that had her crying.

 

“If you are going to be so difficult, I’ll give you tee shirt to go with what’s left of your clothes and we can call the conductor. We’ll each tell our story and then I’ll let him deal with you. Is that what you want?”

 

There was a long silence, broken only by Susan’s sniffles, as she weighed that discouraging option against the better, if awful, one of compliance.

 

“No…. Miss Camille.”

 

“Smart girl.”

 

Camille dismissively dumped her off of her lap onto the floor. She stood, humming softly as she undressed for bed and then pulled out the berth.

 

Susan watched Camille apprehensively from the floor. The manner in which her body had been handled had left her in turmoil. Her ass was smarting from the spanking and yet her nerves had come alive in a strange way. The combination of fear and arousal had her vibrating. If the woman touched her again she was sure she would jump out of her skin.

 

Once Camille was snuggled into the crisp sheets, she looked down at Susan. She considered pulling her captive in with her and taking her then. Playing with her had made her hungry for it, but she knew it would be way sweeter if it was surrendered rather than taken. And there were plenty enough miles ahead for her to make it happen. She tossed a blanket down and turned out the light.

 

“Sleep down there, pet.”

 

Susan heard the words in the dark and sighed with relief.