He moves me to the middle of the deck, then begins slowly sliding his belt off. He slaps it against his hand. He asks, “Are you trying to earn more ...xtras?” “No. No, sir.” With a gulp, I bend over and grab my ankles. Once again the feel the breeze on my tender cheeks and wonder who’s watching. Being bent over like this, my ass stretched and tight, is the worst. I feel the belt run over my poor skin. It’s leather--one I bought for him for his birthday, thinking of him applying it to my naughty. S evening and the train slowly became more and more deserted. By the time my carriage had emptied, I realised I had an hour of my commute home left. As we left the next stop, he sat in the chair opposite me, nudging my feet with his as he stretched his legs. He stuttered and apologised. I just batted my eyelashes and giggled as I told him not to worry. Over those next few minutes we exchanged seductive glances. I assumed he had just come from the gym as he was wearing jogging bottoms and a. More

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