1938 Steps on a Train

If you believe that a story is born, then KaiHavertz_29 played a part in the conception of this one. Thank you for your suggestion which I have twisted and turned out of all recognition.

Please forgive me, dear reader, if you feel that I have this in the wrong Category. I have thought long and hard about it. It has been in at least four different pigeon holes (and I'm sure that you will have your own opinion as to where it should be). I wish that there was a section solely for 'Historical Fiction'. Can I simply beg you to read it with an open mind knowing that it is never my intention to be controversial.

.........................................................

"Do you think that we will be stuck here for much longer?"

The smartly dressed young woman gazed from the carriage window. Her accent, upper class as well as educated, cut through the air in the first-class compartment.

"It does seem rather a long delay," replied the only other occupant.

"I can still hear the steam escaping from the safety valves so they haven't closed her down completely," he went on.

"Oh, you are employed by the railway company then?"

The man laughed, "Good grief no. Just a term one hears.

"I'm not that practical. More of a desk man, really."

"In the City?" she speculated.

"Government. Foreign Office," he said.

She thought for a moment before saying, "All hush hush these days, I suppose."

"Not really. True, I have been stationed in Berlin but don't ask me what Herr Hitler is up to or what the British Government is planning to do about it. I've never been too interested."

"I have no time for Mr Hitler, and all this appeasement only makes him worse," the lady said.

She returned to gazing outside.

Just then the man leapt up and threw open the compartment door. "I say, what the devil's going on? Why are we not moving? We should have been in Dorchester twenty minutes ago," he barked down the corridor at a passing man in uniform.

"Sorry for the delay, Sir. A farm tractor has decided to lose a wheel on the level crossing. They are trying to clear it off as quickly as they can. Should be on our way shortly," said the Guard as he turned and made his way back towards the gentleman.

"Oh well, that explains it." He pulled the door closed, more gently this time.

"Do you have somewhere you urgently need to be?" he asked the young woman.

She smiled and replied. "No, not urgently, just returning from visiting some distant relation. I don't need to be anywhere in particular."

The engine then hissed, the whistle blew and the train resumed its journey.

"Thank goodness!" they said simultaneously. Then they both laughed the shared laughter of those who had endured the same minor inconvenience.

..................................................

As the train pulled into Dorchester Station the woman and the man made ready to alight.

"Well, despite the circumstances, it's been nice to have met you. My name is James, James Wendover, by the way." He would have liked to have shaken her hand but that would have been too forward.

"Milicent Minstead," she said, extending a tiny gloved hand. Now he shook it briefly, grateful for her magnanimity.

He helped her with her overnight bag as she stepped onto the platform.

"Goodbye," Milicent said.

"Oh yes, goodbye," James replied as he turned and walked briskly towards the exit.

She followed on, more slowly stopping at the W H Smith kiosk to purchase a woman's magazine.

As Milicent left the station she was pleasantly surprised to see James some fifty yards or so in front of her. He appeared to be standing by the vacant cab rank.

She wondered if he was genuinely waiting for a taxi or if it was simply a ruse to continue their conversation. She found the thought that a slightly older more worldly gentleman might be attracted to her quite exciting. Milicent told herself not to be so damn conceited.

Nevertheless, she walked towards him. He saw her and turned to face her, a pleasant smile spread across his handsome face.

Just as she had halved the distance between them a Dark Green Austin Van screeched to a halt alongside him. The back doors flew open and two burly men in suits jumped out. They threw a blanket over him dragging James to the ground and were trying to lift him into the van by his arms and legs. At first he made a jolly good show of resisting but he then began to lose the battle and once he had been coshed over the head he was bundled inside.

By this time, Milicent had dashed to his aid and was now swinging her overnight bag at one of the roughians.

"Hans, Hans, hilf uns schnell! Nimm sie auch!" the man shouted.

The driver jumped out and ran round to the pavement clutching another blanket. He threw this over Milicent, wrapped his arms around her knees and lifted her off her feet. As he did so she was aware that her skirt was being pulled up over her waist. The fact that she was being manhandled and that her knickers and stocking tops were obviously on display caused the helpless young lady to scream loudly.

She felt a blow on the back of her head. Everything went black.

.........................................

Before Milicent could focus properly she was aware of the old dank dusty odour. Slowly, her eyes grew accustomed to the late afternoon light falling from torn curtains at the one window of the room.

She was not alone.

Two of her abductors stood staring down at her.

"Ah, you have rejoined uz. So sorry that you had to get mixed up in all of zis, " said the older of the two men in a heavy teutonic accent.

He went on, "If it ver entirely up to me, I would just dump you far avay somevere. As it is, ve have to pick up our superior. He vill decide your fate ven he gets here.

"Vile we are gone you two stay ver you are," he laughed, nodding at the handcuffs which were attached to Millicent's wrist as well as to some sturdy pipework.

"Komm Hans, lass uns gehen!" he ordered the younger man as he started to leave the room.

Hans laughed and said "Vielleicht wechseln wir uns heute Abend mit ihr ab."

Now Milicent took in the rest of the scene. It appeared to be some sort of agricultural labourer's hovel. Long since abandoned, the dust and debris had thickly accumulated everywhere.

She heard a vehicle start and then drive off. Everything went silent.

She was in one corner leaning against a dilapidated kitchen unit, legs stretched out before her, skirt neatly back in place. In the opposite corner there was something covered by a blanket. A wave of dread passed over her.

"Mr Wendover, James! Is that you?

"Please don't be dead, please."

"My head!" came a voice from beneath the cover.

"Oh, thank goodness!" Milicent cried.

"I'm not too sure that I am thankful. I feel like I've been punched by Jack Petersen," said Wendover as he pulled the blanket from his face.

"Oh forgive me, are you alright. How did you get involved in all this Miss Minstead?" he went on.

"I'm not too bad, those foreign chaps only gave me a little tap on the head to keep me quiet. I suspect that they weren't as gentle with you.

"I saw them attacking you and I thought that I should try to help you. Well really, I didn't think at all, if I'm honest."

"It was frightfully kind of you but I wish you hadn't got involved. It's a messy business.

"I am restrained by one hand. Are you able to move?" James asked.

"They have handcuffed me but it doesn't feel too tight. I wonder if I could slip my hand free.

Milicent tugged and pulled on her wrist using her other hand.

"No, not quite. It just needs a little lubrication. I don't suppose that you have any soap about you, do you?" she asked flippantly.

"I'm afraid that I left my shaving equipment in my suitcase, which appears to have disappeared."

"What a shame," Milicent said.

A long silence followed.

Milicent broke it, "I have an idea."

"What is it?" enquired James.

"Oh God, this is going to be embarrassing. I need you to close your eyes and keep them closed."

He did as he was bidden.

A familiar musky womanly aroma drifted into his senses. One that he had experienced many times before.

Milicent had raised her knees and pulled her skirt up. Slipping her finger into her knickers she had inserted it well into her vagina. Pumping it in and out had had the desired effect. She then transferred some of her lubricating juices from her finger into the gap between her wrist and the handcuff.

She repeated the process several times. When Milicent felt that the conditions were perfect she took hold of the steel ring that encircled her wrist and twisted and pulled upon it.

It was painful but suddenly Mother Nature came to her rescue and her hand was free.

"That went better than I thought," she said to James, "I hope that you won't think badly of me."

"Quite the opposite, I think that you are a genius." replied James, "Can I open my eyes now?"

"Certainly, I never expected you to keep them closed once you heard the squelching. Very gentlemanly of you," giggled Milicent.

She added, "Now, how do we get you free?"

She stood up and started opening drawers, looking for some implement with which to break James' cuffs.

"I cannot find anything that will help. I suppose that I will have to resort to plan A."

Milicent approached where James was sitting and pulled the remaining blanket away. She stooped down next to him, steadying herself by holding onto the back of his neck.

"Forgive me," she said as she lifted the hem right up and slipped her free hand under her skirt. This time she pushed two fingers into herself. She was going to need as much lubrication as possible.

James felt the warm soft wetness as Milicent spread the first donation between his wrist and the cuff.

She worked quickly, back and forth between herself and his skin.

Suddenly, she paused. Her breathing became more shallow. She emitted a very gentle and shaky, "Owwwf, owwwwwf," each time she sucked air in.

James felt Milicent grip the back of his neck tightly as she began to shake violently.

"Afff, Aff, Aff," went her soft breath as she recovered herself.

"Sorry, I've always been a bit sensitive down there," she said as she resumed basting James' wrist. This time the balm felt far more slippery.

Milicent took a grip of the handcuff, twisted and pulled until it popped free.

"Good girl!" exclaimed James.

"Come on! We need to get out of here quickly before they come back," shouted Milicent.

"You will need to give me a few moments to get up. I'm a bit stiff," said James.

"Oh yes, you've been sitting there for some time. Your legs must have gone to sleep."

That wasn't quite what he had meant but he rolled over slowly before standing up with his back to her.

"The door is locked but I can probably get this sash window open," said Milicent, doing just that.

She hoisted her skirt up and eased one leg out of the window before ducking her head and pulling the rest of her through.

The sight of the lily white skin between the top of her stockings and her silk knickers did little to help James' mobility but he rallied himself and followed her.

Once outside, it was apparent that the hovel was on the edge of a small coppice with a lane running alongside it. Beyond this was open country interspersed with hedgerows.

They avoided the lane and made for the cover of the nearest hedge. One that led away from both the homestead and the lane.

When they felt that they were out of sight, they fled. Sometimes running, sometimes walking quickly. His shoes were better suited to the terrain than hers but she never complained once.

Every so often they would rest and then the questions would come.

Milicent asked, "Who were those men? What did they want with you?"

"I can only suspect that it is to do with my work. Because my German is pretty good, I've been instructed by Whitehall to investigate known Nazi sympathisers in this area."

"Oh!" said Milicent.

"I don't suppose that you're a Nazi sympathiser, are you Miss Minstead? It would save me a great deal of trouble. I could interrogate you and escape their clutches at the same time," he laughed out loud, rather pleased with his own humour.

"No, I'm afraid not. Can't stand the blighters. Sorry to inconvenience you," she replied, joining in with the joke.

She added, "Considering our recent experience, do you think that we could dispense with the formalities and use our first names?"

"Certainly, Milicent," replied James. And then they were off and running again.

......................................

Meanwhile, back at the hovel the two abductors had returned.

"Well Warner, that went rather well. I don't think that she suspected anything. Your German is excellent," said the younger man.

"So is yours, Hume old chap. But I rather thought that your closing remark was a little crude though."

"Yes, too many drunken parties in Swiss Ski Resorts, I'm afraid. Some of those chalet maids can be quite obliging."

"Everything's down to Wendover now. Let's hope that he can bring Miss Minstead onside," said Warner.

........................................

As evening started to fall they reached an isolated farm building. No more than a storage shed for hay, really.

An old rusty screwdriver was all that held the hasp in place. James pulled the door open just enough for them to enter. He closed it behind the two of them.

"Not the Ritz but we will be out of sight and in the dry if it rains. It may be best to stay away from any road until morning. They could still be searching for us.

"I hope that you don't feel that your honour will be compromised," said James.

Milicent put her finger to her lips and said, "That's terribly sweet of you but I'm a big girl now. Besides, you work for the Foreign Office, I'm sure that they don't tolerate chaps molesting young ladies. Not to mention the fact that we're both bloody exhausted."

James laughed, "I'll take these bales of hay, you could take those." He took off his jacket and handed it to her.

"That's very kind of you," Milicent said, "I don't think that those chaps were simply after money. Your wallet is still in your inside pocket."

She lay down and covered her shoulders with his coat.

............................................

James awoke with a shotgun pointing straight between his eyes.

He said nothing, unsure of exactly what was going on.

"Wake up lady!" shouted the man with the gun.

Milicent rubbed her bleary eyes.

"What the hell are you doing with that thing?" she demanded of the man.

He replied, "More to the point what have you two been up to in my hay shed. Too tight to get a hotel room is he?"

"We have been up to nothing. We were lost and simply took shelter here," said Milicent.

"I only have your word for that. We've been told to be on the lookout for Fifth Columnists."

"Do we look like German spies?" asked Millicent. James said nothing. He was watching the man's face trying to deduce if he was dangerous or just a cautious old man.

"That's just the point. If German spies looked like spies they would be bloody useless spies.

"For all I know, you could have parachuted in last night," said the farmer.

James spoke for the first time, "Well I can assure you that we didn't."

The man turned to Milicent and said, "If you haven't dropped from the sky, you will know exactly where you are, won't you Miss."

"No, we don't know where we are because we have no idea where we started from," she replied.

The farmer thought for a minute then an idea showed on his face.

"This your Missus?"

"No," said James.

"Girlfriend then?"

"No, not really," said James.

"Then you don't mind if I fuck her then, do you?"

"I most certainly do, you pervert."

"But you're not the one with the gun are you?" leered the farmer.

"Stand over here Miss, lift your skirt and drop your knickers," ordered the man with the gun.

"You can't do that!" exclaimed James.

The farmer waved his gun at him. "Oh yes I can. If you don't want to see him blasted, do as I say Miss."

"Don't do it!" said James to Milicent.

"I have to. I believe that he means it," replied Milicent.

The farmer took four or five paces backwards, all the time keeping the barrel trained on James, who was inclined to agree with her that the man did mean it.

"Stand between him and me, Miss. Bend over so that I can still see him."

She did as she was told.

"That's sensible. Now lift your skirt up over your waist and pull down your drawers."

James started to protest but the farmer growled at him to shut up.

Once again Millicent complied.

"Now, that's a lovely white arse," said the farmer, "spread your legs a little. Let me see the rabbit hole."

She moved her feet as far apart as her underwear would allow.

"Nice, looks a little bit tighter than I'm used to though.

The farmer thought for a moment.

"Tell you what, you turn around and let the Gent have a look."

Milicent shuffled around to bring her head towards the man with the shotgun.

The farmer said to James, "Take a good look. Have you ever seen anything so nice?"

James said, "I say................"

"Have you?" demanded the farmer.

"No," said James quietly.

"Tell you what I am going to do for you. You can shag her first. Make it easier for me, it will."

"I will not," countered James.

"Look stupid. This little beauty fires two cartridges. I could easily top you both right here, right now. Nobody would hear. Nobody would ever find the bodies once I've buried them out there somewhere.

"The way that I see it, you both belong to me. I'm telling you to put your cock in her and fuck her for all you've got.

"If I'm any judge she wants you to. Isn't that right love?"

"Please James, do as he says. I don't want to die and I don't want you to either."

"There you go, what are you waiting for? She's not going to make it any plainer than that."

Looking resigned, James undid his trousers and took his penis out. He shook it a few times but in truth it was as stiff as it had ever been before.

"I'm really sorry about this...."

"Just do it, please. I really want you to do it," pleaded Milicent.

He encountered very little resistance as he pushed the head of his penis into her. He tried to enter her slowly but she pushed back against him forcing him fully into her.

James gripped her hips and started to trust. His speed increased and soon he was pounding into Milicent as if his life depended on it. For all he knew it did.

"Good boy, give it to her hard," said the farmer, as he reached out and grasped a handful of the hair on the back of her head with his free hand. The barrel of the shotgun was only inches from James's chest.

They both grunted in unison with each trust.

"Yes, yes," cried Milicent.

"Oh no, I can't stop myself," James shouted as he convulsed and pulled himself against her.

The farmer used the end of the gun to suggest that James moved away.

"There, that didn't hurt anyone, did it?" he asked.

He gestured for James to stand still further back.

"Turn around, darling. I know that you're not the kind of girl to begrudge an old man a little treat."

Milicent shuffled about to face James. He said, "You don't have to do this."

"I'm afraid she does," said the man with the gun still pointing at James.

Milicent said, "Don't argue with him James. Let's get it over with. I probably won't feel it anyway."

The old man deftly released his cock with one hand.

James was amazed. It dwarfed his by quite a bit. Quite a big bit.

The farmer waved the gun at the back of Milicent's head and put his finger to his lips leaving James in no doubt that he should remain quiet.

"Thank you for your help, young man. I appreciate it."

He took his cock in his hand and fed it into Milicent's unsuspecting vagina. Before she could react, he grabbed the top of her girdle with his free hand and pulled himself completely into her.